time I touched it. Then I might have had sense enough to leave it
where it was. I had no business to take it, and I've been ashamed--"

"No, no," he said, comfortingly. "It was the very most flattering
thing ever happen to me. It was almost my last flight before I went
to the machine-shop, and it's pleasant to think somebody liked it
enough to--"

"But I DON'T like it!" she exclaimed. "I don't even understand it
--and papa made so much fuss over its getting the prize, I just hate
it! The truth is I never dreamed it'd get the prize."

"Maybe they expected father to endow the school," Bibbs murmured.

"Well, I had to have something to turn in, and I couldn't write a
LINE! I hate poetry, anyhow; and Bobby Lamhorn's always teasing me
about how I 'keep my heart among the stars.' He makes it seem such
a mushy kind of thing, the way he says it. I hate it!"

"You'll have to live it down, Edith. Perhaps abroad and under
another name you might find--"

"Oh, hush up! I'll hire some one to steal it and burn it the first
chance I get." She turned away petulantly, moving to the door. "I'd
like to think I could hope to hear the last of it before I die!"

"Edith!" he called, as she went into the hall.

"What's the matter?"