ust as the clock struck twelve. There were now many
other little figures hurrying in the same direction with businesslike
step, and all carrying flowers. Primroses, daisies, buttercups,
cowslips, and honeysuckle were to be seen, but there was nothing half so
beautiful as the heap of white lilac. Agnetta saw it as she passed into
the school room, and gave an astonished stare and a sniff of
displeasure: she had only brought a basket of small daisies, and had
taken no trouble about them, so that her offering was not noticed or
praised at all. Then Lilac advanced, and dropping her little curtsy
stood silently in front of Miss Ellen and Miss Alice holding out her
pinafore to its widest extent. There were exclamations of admiration
and surprise from everyone, and Agnetta stamped her foot with vexation
to hear them.

"It's _exquisite_!" said Miss Ellen at last. "Where did you get such a
beautiful lot of it?"

"Please, ma'am, I don't know," said Lilac. "I found it on the
doorstep."

Agnetta's wrath grew higher every moment. No one paid her any
attention, and here was her insignificant cousin Lilac the centre of
everyone's interest. She overheard a whisper of Miss Alice's: "She'll
make far the loveliest Queen we've ever had."

What could it be they admired in Lilac? Agnetta stood with a pout on
her lips, idle, while all round the busy work and chatter went on.

"Now, Agnetta," said Miss Ellen, bustling up to her, "there's plenty to
do. Get me some twine and some wire, and if you're very careful you may
help me with the Queen's sceptre."

It was a hateful office, but there was no help for it, and Agnetta had
to humble herself in the Queen's service for the rest of the morning.
To kneel on the floor, pick off small sprays from the bunches of lilac,
and hand them up to Miss Ellen as she wove them into garland and
sceptre. While she did it her heart was hot within her, and she felt
that she hated her cousin. The work went on quickly but very silently
inside the schoolroom. There was no time to talk, for the masses of
flowers which covered table, benches, and floor had all to be changed
into wreaths and garlands before one o'clock, for the Queen and her
court. Outside it was not so quiet. An eager group had gathered there
long ago, composed of the drum-and-fife band, which broke out now and
then into fragments of tunes, the boy with the maypole on his shoulder,
and bearers of sundry bright flags and banners. T