“It’s a shame, honey,” Laura whispered in her ear, generously forgetting her own disappointment in Billie’s. “But never mind, you got the second prize anyway—which was more than the rest of us did,” she added, with a little stab of regret at her own failure. “And you would have won the first prize if it hadn’t been for that cat,” added Vi fiercely. Billie pressed their hands gratefully and glanced for the first time at her prize. “I’d like to throw it away!” she cried fiercely. “Sh-h,” whispered Vi, for Miss Walters was making an interesting announcement. “The winning compositions will now be read,” she said. “Miss Arbuckle has volunteered to give us that pleasure.” There was a great clapping of hands as Miss Arbuckle stepped on the platform and smiled down at them. For the little teacher was a great favorite with the girls. “We will read Amanda’s composition first,” she said, “as it has had the distinction of winning the first prize.” Again there was tense silence in the Hall. The girls were agog with curiosity to hear this wonderful composition which had been written by one of the notoriously stupid girls of the school. As for Amanda, she had not foreseen this event. She had not expected to hear her stolen composition read aloud, and before all this assembly of stern young critics. The prospect made her a trifle nervous, but her smile was as proudly triumphant as ever. Her chief concern was with Eliza. For the girl was so white and scared that she threatened to give the deception away. Amanda gave her a sharp nudge with her elbow. “Cheer up, will you?” she muttered fiercely. “You’re not at a funeral.” Miss Arbuckle began to read, and as she read the well-rounded phrases, the telling metaphors, the girls became more than ever stupefied with astonishment. “Could it be,” they asked themselves incredulously, “that Amanda had remarkable literary ability that they had never suspected? Could she really have written a thing like that?” The same thought seemed to be in Miss Arbuckle’s mind, for as she read on her brow became clouded and she paused now and then as though she were trying to recollect something. Finally she stopped altogether, looked across at Amanda for a thoughtful moment, then laid the manuscript down and turned to Miss Walters. She said something that the girls could not catch, then hurried from the room. This was something no one had counted upon. Amanda, her triumphant smile gone at last, quaked as she heard again the excited buzz of the girls about her. Miss Walters’ voice rose over the murmur, clear and very grave. “Miss Arbuckle thinks she has made a discovery,” she said. “She will be back in a moment, and until then I must ask that there be absolute silence in the room.” Miss Sara Walters possessed that rare gift of authority that needed no raising of the voice or undue emphasis to command obedience. Instantly the murmuring stopped and the girls waited in breathless silence for Miss Arbuckle’s return.