nge of color.

"Next!--Sarah Rowe."

Of course Sarah had not, nor anybody else. Miss Cardrew let the matter
drop there and went on with her reading.

Gypsy sat silent and sorry, her eyes on her Testament. Joy tried to
whisper something to her once, but Gypsy turned away with a gesture of
impatience and disgust. This thing Joy had done had shocked her so that
she felt as if she could not bear the sight of her face or touch of her
hand. Never since she was a very little child had Gypsy been known to
say what was not true. All her words were like her eyes--clear as
sunbeams.

At dinner Joy did all the talking. Mrs. Breynton asked Gypsy what was
the matter, but Gypsy said "Nothing." If Joy did not choose to tell of
the matter, she would not.

"What makes you so cross?" said Joy in the afternoon; "nobody can get a
word out of you, and you don't look at me any more than if I weren't
here."

"I don't see how you can _ask_ such a question!" exploded Gypsy, with
flashing eyes. "You know what you've done as well as I do."

"No, I don't," grumbled Joy; "just 'cause I didn't tell Miss Cardrew
about that horrid old cat--I wish we'd let the ugly thing alone!--I
don't see why you need treat me as if I'd been murdering somebody and
were going to be hung for it. Besides, I said 'Over the left' to myself
just after I'd told her, and _I_ didn't want to lose my recess if you
did."

Gypsy shut up her pink lips tight, and made no answer.

Joy went out to play at recess, and Gypsy stayed in alone and studied.
Joy went home with the girls in a great frolic after school, and Gypsy
stayed shut up in the lonely schoolroom for an hour, disgraced and
miserable. But I have the very best of reasons for thinking that she
wasn't nearly as miserable as Joy.

Just before supper the two girls were sitting drearily together in the
dining-room, when the door-bell rang.

"It's Miss Cardrew!" said Joy, looking out of the window; "what do you
suppose she wants?"

Gypsy looked up carelessly; she didn't very much care. She had told Miss
Cardrew all she had to tell and received her punishment.

As for her mother, she would have gone to her with the whole story that
noon, if it hadn't been for Joy's part in it.

"What is that she has in her hand, I wonder?" said Joy uneasily, peeping
through a crack in the door as Miss Cardrew passed through the entry;
"why, I declare! if it isn't a handkerchief, as true as you
live--all--inky!"

When Miss Car