much of what Ellen was to have done; and the parts were distributed
among the children. There were still wanting, however, the opening
address and a dialogue, both of which Ellen had completed.

"Oh, dear," cried Marion, "that address of Ellen's is so pretty and
appropriate! If she would only let us have it! As we planned it
together, if I write one the principal ideas will be the same; and
then, likely as not, she will say I copied from hers. How shall I
manage?"

Ellen remained on her dignity. She would have nothing to do either
with Marion or the drama, and kept aloof from her classmates generally.

The intelligence had spread through the school that the two graduates
had differed over the May piece. The exact point in dispute was not
known, however: for Marion wished to keep her design a secret, and
Ellen would not condescend to explain. In fact, she did not clearly
understand it herself; for she had been too vexed at the proposal to
change the plan to listen to what Marion said upon the subject.

During this state of affairs poor Abby was very unhappy. She felt that
she was the cause of all the trouble; and it seemed hard that what she
had done with the best of intentions should have made so much
ill-feeling. This disastrous occurrence was followed by another, which
made her think herself a very unfortunate little girl.

As has already been explained, it was Larry's delight to keep always a
few fresh blossoms in his pretty vase before the beloved statue of the
Blessed Virgin. This he attended to himself, and no one ever
interfered with the vase. On the day referred to Abby had been
rehearsing with Marion, and thus it happened that they walked part of
the way home together. Marion stopped at a florist's stand and bought
a little bunch of arbutus.

"Here, put this on your altar," she said, giving it to Abby. She had
heard all about the oratory.

When the little girl reached the house Larry had not yet come in, and
the flowers had not been renewed that day.

"I'll surprise him," she said to herself. "How pleased he will be to
see this nice little bouquet!"

She took the vase, threw away the withered violets it contained,
replaced them with the May-flowers, and put it back. But, alas! being
taken up with admiring the delicate pink arbutus, and inhaling its
fragrance, she did not notice that she had set the vase in an unsteady
position. The next moment it tipped over, fell to the floor, and la