"When you look like you do now you are real pretty," said Lily, not
knowing or even suspecting the truth, that she was regarding in the face
of this little ardent soul her own, as in a mirror.

However, it was after that episode that Amelia Wheeler was called
"Copy-Cat." The two little girls entered Madame's select school arm in
arm, when the musical gong sounded, and behind them came Lee Westminster
and Johnny Trumbull, surreptitiously dusting their garments, and ever
after the fact of Amelia's adoration and imitation of Lily Jennings was
evident to all. Even Madame became aware of it, and held conferences
with two of the under teachers.

"It is not at all healthy for one child to model herself so entirely
upon the pattern of another," said Miss Parmalee.

"Most certainly it is not," agreed Miss Acton, the music-teacher.

"Why, that poor little Amelia Wheeler had the rudiments of a fairly good
contralto. I had begun to wonder if the poor child might not be able at
least to sing a little, and so make up for--other things; and now she
tries to sing high like Lily Jennings, and I simply cannot prevent it.
She has heard Lily play, too, and has lost her own touch, and now it is
neither one thing nor the other."

"I might speak to her mother," said Madame, thoughtfully. Madame was
American born, but she married a French gentleman, long since deceased,
and his name sounded well on her circulars. She and her two under
teachers were drinking tea in her library.

Miss Parmalee, who was a true lover of her pupils, gasped at Madame's
proposition. "Whatever you do, please do not tell that poor child's
mother," said she.

"I do not think it would be quite wise, if I may venture to express an
opinion," said Miss Acton, who was a timid soul, and always inclined to
shy at her own ideas.

"But why?" asked Madame.

"Her mother," said Miss Parmalee, "is a quite remarkable woman, with
great strength of character, but she would utterly fail to grasp the
situation."

"I must confess," said Madame, sipping her tea, "that I fail to
understand it. Why any child not an absolute idiot should so lose her
own identity in another's absolutely bewilders me. I never heard of such
a case."

Miss Parmalee, who had a sense of humor, laughed a little. "It is
bewildering," she admitted. "And now the other children see how it is,
and call her 'Copy-Cat' to her face, but she does not mind. I doubt if
she understands, and neither does Lily, for