the head. One--two--
three--begin!"

The music played. Bridget was intensely nervous, but through it all she
felt a perverse pleasure in irritating Miss Tasker, so she performed
some grotesquely uncouth steps which raised a smile on almost every
face.

"Again, if you please."

It was done again, and if possible worse than before.

"You may return to your seat."

Which Bridget did with swift ungainly strides, feeling covered with
disgrace, and as she passed, an unfortunate whisper from one of the
visitors reached her ear:

"What a windmill of a child to be sure!"

She plunged into her seat, her eyes wet with tears of mortification, but
no one saw them except Bobbie, who sat next her. He did not understand
the full extent of her distress, but he looked up in her face and put
his small hand in hers. It was a sympathetic but sticky clasp, for
Bobbie always carried sweets in his pockets for solace at odd moments,
yet it comforted Bridget a little, and she gave it a silent squeeze in
return.

But, hurt and sore and angry as she felt, the cup was not quite full
until that evening, when Mrs Watson came into the school-room while the
children were having tea. After her usual little chat with them she
said just before going away:

"I am sorry to hear from Miss Tasker that Bridget does not seem to think
it worth while to take pains with her dancing, though she knows how
anxious I am about it."

She looked at Bridget, who blushed hotly, but made no answer; and,
indeed, she could not, for she felt as though Bobbie's largest ball were
sticking in her throat.

"I know," continued her mother, "that you cannot all do the same things
equally well, but you can at least try to do your best, however much you
may dislike any particular lesson. I should be more pleased to know
that Bridget tried to hold herself upright and took pains with her
dancing, than to hear that she had said all her lessons quite perfectly,
because I know one is a difficulty to her and the other none."

Mother looked very grave, and she so seldom reproved any of the
children, that they felt this to be a solemn occasion, and their little
serious faces were all turned upon Bridget.

She could not bear it. As her mother left the room she started up
abruptly, upsetting her cup and saucer, and, heedless of Miss Tasker's
warning voice, rushed out into the garden blinded with her tears.

She must go somewhere and cry alone, and her steps turned inst