knew in a vague sort of way that if she could get one of these girls more or less into her power, she might dictate her own terms. And now her chance had come. No prickings of conscience held her back; it did not even occur to her that she was acting badly. If she thought at all, it was but to pronounce Priscilla's ideas of honour obsolete and impossible. She had little doubt that she could get Priscilla to yield to the plan which was forming itself in her own brain; and she was also pretty sure that Mabel would be even a more easy victim. Many of her school friends were fond of asking small services of Annie; for she was invariably good-natured, and had a sunny, pleasant temper. She was rather amusing, too, and to all appearance never thought of herself. Now she ran up to the elder girls' sitting-room, threw the door open wide, and entered. A tall, pale girl, with an aristocratic face was seated by an open desk busily writing. She looked annoyed when Annie entered. "Am I in your way, Constance?" asked Annie. "No, Annie. Of course you have a right to sit here, but I do hope you will keep quiet. I am busy writing my prize essay--not that I have a chance of the prize, but of course I want to do my very best. The subject interests me." Annie said nothing. She flung herself into a chair, and taking up a story-book, tried to read. But her thoughts were too busy with the scheme which was forming itself in her brain. She threw down the book, and drawing her chair to the opposite window, looked out. Constance Hadley seemed to feel her presence, for after a time she sank back in her chair with a sigh. "Finished, Constance?" cried Annie. "No; I can't manage the end. I want to do something really good, but the something won't come." "I wonder you bother," said Annie; "that is, of course, unless you are sure of the prize." "I sure of the prize!" laughed Constance. "Why, there are at least four girls in the school who will do better work than I. You, for instance, Annie; you have an audacious, smart little way of writing which very often takes." "But I can do nothing with such a subject as `Idealism,'" replied Annie, "except to laugh at it and thank my stars that I have not got it." Constance looked at her gravely. "I wonder who _will_ get the prize," she said. Annie did not reply. Constance rose, stretched herself slightly, and putting her papers together, laid them in orderly fashion in her desk. "I shall get up early to-morrow," she said, "and come down here and finish my paper. There is no time so good as before breakfast for brain-work." "Well, thank goodness, my attempt is quite finished," said Annie. "I suppose," remarked Constance, "that Priscilla will get the prize. She is the cleverest of us all." "Oh, I'm not at all sure of that," said Annie. "Priscie is clever, no doubt; but Mabel is clever too--very clever." "Mabel Lushington! What do you mean?" "What I say. She is awfully clever when she takes pains."