well with her dark brown hair and eyes, which no longer seemed
unnaturally large. Still she was not beautiful, it is true, and yet
Billy was not far from right when he called her the finest looking
girl in Chicopee; and it was for this reason, perhaps, that Mrs.
Campbell watched her with so much jealousy.

Every possible pains had been taken with Ella's education. The best
teachers had been hired to instruct her, and she was now at a
fashionable seminary, but still she did not possess one half the ease
and gracefulness of manner, which seemed natural to her sister. Since
the day of that memorable visit, the two girls had seen but little of
each other. Ella would not forgive Mrs. Mason for praising Mary, nor
forgive Mary for being praised; and as Mrs. Campbell, too pretended to
feel insulted, the intercourse between the families gradually ceased;
and oftentimes when Ella met her sister, she merely acknowledged her
presence by a nod, or a simple "how d'ye do?"

When she heard that Mary was to be a teacher, she said "she was glad,
for it was more respectable than going into a factory, or working
out." Mrs. Campbell, too, felt in duty bound to express her pleasure,
adding, that "she hoped Mary would give satisfaction, but 'twas
extremely doubtful, she was _so_ young, and possessed of so little
dignity!"

Unfortunately, Widow Perkins's red cottage stood directly opposite the
school-house; and as the widow belonged to that stirring few who
always "wash the breakfast dishes, and make the beds before any one is
up in the house," she had ample leisure to watch and report the
proceedings of the new teacher. Now Mrs. Perkins's clock was like its
mistress, always half an hour in advance of the true time and Mary had