approbation of others, and therefore more anxious to please, than
Leonora; but that very vanity made her, at the same time, more apt to
offend. In short, Leonora was the most anxious to avoid what was wrong,
Cecilia the most ambitious to do what was right. Few of their companions
loved, but many were led by Cecilia, for she was often successful; many
loved Leonora, but none were ever governed by her, for she was too
indolent to govern.

On the first day of May, about six o'clock in the evening, a great bell
rang, to summon this little society into a hall, where the prize was to
be decided. A number of small tables were placed in a circle in the
middle of the hall; seats for the young competitors were raised one
above another, in a semicircle, some yards distant from the table; and
the judges' chairs, under canopies of lilacs and luburnums, forming
another semicircle, closed the amphitheatre. Every one put their
writings, their drawings, their works of various kinds, upon the tables
appropriated for each. How unsteady were the last steps to these tables!
How each little hand trembled as it laid down its claims! Till this
moment every one thought herself secure of success, but now each felt an
equal certainty of being excelled; and the heart which a few minutes
before exulted with hope, now palpitated with fear.

The works were examined, the preference adjudged; and the prize was
declared to be the happy Cecilia's. Mrs. Villars came forward smiling,
with the bracelet in her hand. Cecilia was behind her companions, on the
highest row; all the others gave way, and she was on the floor in an
instant. Mrs. Villars clasped the bracelet on her arm; the clasp was
heard through the whole hall, and a universal smile of congratulation
followed. Mrs. Villars kissed Cecilia's little hand; and "now," said
she, "go and rejoice with your companions; the remainder of the day is