"Nothing, I think, for the moment, but that I love you dearly, and felt that I must come to be with you. Aren't you surprised to see me, Rhoda?" "No, I don't think so. I don't feel anything. I wanted you, and then-- there you were! It seemed quite natural." "But it was rather peculiar all the same. I have been staying with Tom, and we were both asked down to D-- for a four days' visit. That is only half an hour's rail from here, as you know; so this morning when I saw the list in the paper I thought at once--`I must see Rhoda! I will go down and chance finding her at home!'" "Yes!" "So I came, and am so glad to be with you, dear. I have seen your mother, and have promised to stay to lunch. I need not go back until four o'clock." "Oh, that's nice. I like to have you. Evie, I believe it was the arithmetic. I was so ill, I could hardly think. You might as well know all now. It was my own doing. I had been working every morning before getting up, and that day I began at four. I tired myself out before the gong rang." "I guessed as much. Dorothy told me that she heard someone turning over leaves!" "Why don't you say, `I told you so!' then, and tell me that it's my own fault?" "I--don't--know! Perhaps because I do so many foolish things myself; perhaps because I haven't the heart to scold you just now, you poor dear." Rhoda's face quivered, but she pressed her lips together, and said with a gulp: "I suppose--it's a childish trouble! I suppose--when I am old--and sensible--I shall look back on to-day, and laugh to think how I worried myself over such an unimportant trial." "I am sure you will do nothing of the kind. You will be very, very sorry for yourself, and very pitiful, and very proud, too, if you can remember that you bore it bravely and uncomplainingly." "But I can't! I can't bear it at all. It gets worse every moment. I keep remembering things that I had forgotten. Miss Bruce preaching, and Miss Mott staring through her spectacles--the girls all saying they are sorry, and the--the Record Wall, where I wanted to see my name! I _can't_ bear it, it's no use." "But you will _have_ to bear it, Rhoda. It is a fact, and nothing that you can do will alter it now. You will have to bear it; but you can bear it in two ways, as you make up your mind to-day. You can cry and fret, and make yourself ill, and everyone else miserable, or you can brace yourself up to bear it bravely, and make everyone love and admire you more than they have ever done before. Which are you going to do?" "I am going to be cross and horrid. I couldn't be good if I tried. I'm soured for life!" said Rhoda stoutly, but even as she spoke a smile struggled with her tears, and Evie laughed aloud--her sweet, ringing laugh. "Poor, dear old thing! She looks so like it! I know better, and am not a bit afraid of you. You will be good and plucky, and rejoice unaffectedly in Kathleen's success." "Has Kathleen--Oh! Is Kathleen first?"