“Yes, if I could I would choose both of you,” said Louisa, “but you know I can only choose which I like the best.” “If you mean, my dear Louisa,” said Leonora, “that you like me the best, I am very much obliged to you, for, indeed, I wish you to love me; but it is enough for me to know it in private. I should not feel the least more pleasure at hearing it in public, or in having it made known to all my companions, especially at a time when it would give poor Cecilia a great deal of pain.” “But why should it give her pain?” asked Louisa; “I don’t like her for being jealous of you.” “Nay, Louisa, surely you don’t think Cecilia jealous? She only tries to excel, and to please; she is more anxious to succeed than I am, it is true, because she has a great deal more activity, and perhaps more ambition. And it would really mortify her to lose this prize—you know that she proposed it herself. It has been her object for this month past, and I am sure she has taken great pains to obtain it.” “But, dear Leonora, why should you lose it?” “Indeed, my dear, it would be no loss to me; and, if it were, I would willingly suffer it for Cecilia; for, though we seem not to be such good friends as we used to be, I love her very much, and she will love me again—I’m sure she will; when she no longer fears me as a rival, she will again love me as a friend.” Here Leonora heard a number of her companions running along the gallery. They all knocked hastily at the door, calling “Leonora! Leonora! will you never come? Cecilia has been with us this half-hour.” Leonora smiled. “Well, Louisa,” said she, smiling, “will you promise me?” “Oh, I am sure, by the way they speak to you, that they won’t give you the prize!” said the little Louisa, and the tears started into her eyes. “They love me, though, for all that,” said Leonora; “and as for the prize, you know whom I wish to have it.” “Leonora! Leonora!” called her impatient companions; “don’t you hear us? What are you about?” “Oh, she never will take any trouble about anything,” said one of the party; “let’s go away.” “Oh, go, go! make haste!” cried Louisa; “don’t stay; they are so angry.” “Remember, then, that you have promised me,” said Leonora, and she left the room. During all this time, Cecilia had been in the garden with her companions. The ambition which she had felt to win the first prize—the prize of superior talents and superior application—was not to be compared to the absolute anxiety which she now expressed to win this simple testimony of the love and approbation of her equals and rivals.