contrary. It cost a
tremendous struggle. I think, in all my life I have done few harder
things, than it was to me then to kneel down by the side of my bed in
full blaze of the gaslights and with four curious pairs of eyes around
to look on; to say nothing of the four busy tongues wagging about
nothing all the time. I remember what a hush fell upon them the first
night; while beyond the posture of prayer I could do little. Only
unformed or half formed thoughts and petitions struggled in my mind,
through a crowd of jostling regrets and wishes and confusions, in
which I could hardly distinguish anything. But no explosion followed,
of either ridicule or amusement, and I had been suffered from that
night to do as I would, not certainly always in silence, but quite
unmolested.

I had carried over my standish to Miss Cardigan to ask her to take
care of it for me; I had no place to keep it. But Miss Cardigan was
not satisfied to see the prize; she wanted to hear the essay read; and
was altogether so elated that a little undue elation perhaps crept
into my own heart. It was not a good preparation for what was coming.

I went home in good time. In the hall, however, Mlle. Genevieve seized
upon me; she had several things to say, and before I got up stairs to
my room all the rest of its inmates were in bed. I hoped they were
asleep. I heard no sound while I was undressing, nor while I knelt, as
usual now, by my bedside. But as I rose from my knees I was startled
by a sort of grunt that came from St. Clair's corner.

"Humph!--Dear me! we're so good,--Grace and Devotion,--Christian
grace, too!"

"Hold your tongue, St. Clair," said Miss Macy, but not in a way, I
thought, to check her; if she could have been checked.

"But it's too bad, Macy," said the girl. "We're all so rough, you
know. _We_ don't know how to behave ourselves; we can't make curtseys;
our mothers never taught us anything,--and dancing masters are no
good. We ought to go to Egypt. There isn't anything so truly dignified
as a pyramid. There is a great deal of _a plomb_ there!"

"Who talked about _a plomb_?" said Miss Bentley.

"You have enough of that, at any rate, Faustina," said Lansing.

"Mrs. St. Clair's child ought to have that," said Miss Macy.

"Ah, but it isn't Christian grace, after all," persisted Faustina.
"You want a cross at the top of a pyramid to make it perfect."

"Hush, Faustina!" said Miss Macy.

"It's fair,"--said Miss Bentley.

"You ha