rvously.

"At last, after what seemed an age to me, though it wasn't really but
half an hour since we started, I made up my mind to bear it as well as I
could; father and mother would forgive me, I was sure, and would make
Mrs. Ferguson overlook it--when I glanced out of the car window. Little
flakes of snow were falling fast. It struck dismay to my heart. If it
kept on like this,--and after watching it for some moments, I had no
reason to expect otherwise, for it was of that fine, dry quality that
seems destined to last,--I should not be able to get back to school that
afternoon. Oh dear me! And now I began to open my heart to all sorts of
fears: the train might be delayed, the stagecoach slow in getting
through to Cherryfield. By this time I was in a fine state of nerves,
and did not dare to think further."

One of the girls stole her hand softly up to lay it on that of the
principal, forgetting that she had never before dared to do such a thing
in all her life. Miss Salisbury smiled, and closed it within her own.

There was a smothered chorus of "Oh dears!"

"I sat there, my dears, in a misery that saw nothing of the beauty of
that storm, knew nothing, heard nothing, except the occasional
ejaculations and remarks of the passengers, such as, 'It's going to be
the worst storm of the year,' and 'It's come to stay.'

"Suddenly, without a bit of warning, there was a bumping noise, then the
train dragged slowly on, then stopped. All the passengers jumped up,
except myself. I was too miserable to stir, for I knew now that I was to
pay finely for my wrong-doing in leaving the school without permission."

"Oh--oh!" the girls gave a little scream.

"'What is it--what is it?' the passengers one and all cried, and there
was great rushing to the doors, and hopping outside to ascertain the
trouble. I never knew, for I didn't care to ask. It was enough for me
that something had broken, and the train had stopped; to start again no
one could tell when."

The sympathy and excitement now were intense. One girl sniffed out from
behind her handkerchief, "I--I should have--thought you would--have
died--Miss Salisbury."

"Ah!" said Miss Salisbury, with a sigh, "you will find, Helen, as you
grow older, that the only thing you can do to repair in any way the
mischief you have done, is to keep yourself well under control, and
endure the penalty without wasting time on your suffering. So I just
made up my mind now to this; and I sat