"Ah, then, darling, it is not your place I'll be taking to-day; sure my head is bothered entirely. But I have got all kinds of nice things about me. Do you know that I sat up late last night putting a pocket in the left side of my dress as well as the right, so now the girl on each side of me can have as many chocolates as she has a fancy for? You dive in your hand whenever you feel the least bit inclined for a sweetie, Agnes; and you do the same, Mary Davies; and, Mary, you might pass one on now and then to that poor, little, thin Katie Trafford at the other end of the class." It was certainly impossible for a girl like Kitty Malone not to be popular; and the other girls valued her, and thought themselves highly privileged to be in the same class with her, dunce as she was. Kitty had learned her lessons a little better, but the thought of the public confessions which she was about to make rested heavy on her soul. It made her restless; and her lessons, although they had been better prepared, gained her no more marks than on the previous day. "I wonder how I ought to do it," she whispered more than once to Agnes Moore. "To do what?" asked Agnes, who was a very earnest little student, and whose dream was that she might get a remove at the end of the term. "About what, Kitty? I wish you would not interrupt me." "Oh, bother it, dear. Have a chocolate, won't you? What are your lessons compared to my perplexities? What ought I to say? Ought I to drop a courtesy or go on my knees? There was an old romance which I found in the garret at home; and when the heroine did wrong she always dropped upon her knees and folded her hands, and raised her eyes toward heaven--is that the way I ought to do it?" "Don't, don't, Kitty; you'll make me laugh, and then I'll be sent down. Please, don't talk to me any more." Kitty turned her attention to Mary Davies. "Would you, Mary, go on one knee or on two? If you dip your hand down to the very bottom of my pocket, you'll find some caramels--some people like them better than chocolate creams." "You must not talk to me any more or I'll get into disgrace," whispered Mary in a low, frightened voice. "Look, Miss Worrick has come into the room. Now do open your history book, there's a dear girl." Kitty bent her curly head over her book. She was really interested in the cruel fate of the martyr-king, but at that moment she saw nothing but the picture she was conjuring up each moment before her excited imagination--the tall girl asking pardon of the little teacher. Was the girl to go on her knees? "It really would be better," thought Kitty. "I'd be lower than her then. It does seem ridiculous that the big should ask pardon of the little, and--Oh, Miss Worrick, I beg your pardon; were you speaking to me?" "I was, Kitty. Stand up; I am just going to lecture."