blackboard to
write out a sentence. At her feeble effort which resulted in a
crooked scrawl, there was a subdued titter from the others. For one
moment the new scholar stood, her cheeks flaming, then with defiant
face she turned to Miss Dorothy. "I can spell it every word," she
said, "if I can't write it."

Miss Dorothy smiled encouragingly, for she understood the situation.
"That is more than many little girls of your age can do," she said.
"Suppose you spell it for us, then."

With clenched hands Marian faced her schoolmates. "Separate
syllables, and enunciate with distinct emphasis," she finished
triumphantly, without looking at the book.

"That is a very good test," said Miss Dorothy; "you may take your
seat. Now, Alice, I will give out the next sentence, and you may
spell it without the board," and the day was saved for Marian.

After this she triumphantly gave the boundaries of several
countries, told without hesitation the dates of three important
events in history, carried to a correct finish a difficult example
in long division, and when the hour came for school to close she had
won her place. Yet the matter of writing was uppermost in her mind
as she walked home, and she said shamefacedly to Miss Dorothy,
"Isn't it dreadful for a girl of my age not to know how to write?"

"It isn't as if it were a thing that couldn't be learned," Miss
Dorothy told her for her encouragement, "but you must hurry up and
conquer it. You might practice at home between times, and you will
be surprised to find how you improve. Have you never written letters
to your father?"

Marian shook her head. "Not really myself. Grandma always writes
them for me," then she added, "so of course she says just what she
pleases; I'd like to say what I please, I think."

"I am sure your father would like it better if you did. I know when
my father was away from home the letter that most pleased him was
written by my little sister Patty when she was younger than you."

"How old is she now?" asked Marian.

"Just about your age. She can write very well, but you can distance
her in spelling and arithmetic."

"I'll catch up with her in writing," decided Marian, "and maybe she
will catch up with me in the other things."

"I'll tell her what you say," said Miss Dorothy; "that will be an
incentive to you both. I should like you to know our Patty. She is
our baby, and is a darling."

"I should like to know her," returned Marian warmly.

"I'