Wilmot often wondered at her marvelous capacity for learning so much in so
short a space of time, for she never took home her books at night, and she
said she had plenty of time for her lessons during school hours.

With Fanny it was just the reverse. She got her lessons at home and played
all day at school! Sometimes a reprimand from Mr. Wilmot would bring the
tears into her eyes and she would wonder why it was she could not behave
and make Mr. Wilmot like her as well as he did Julia. Then she would
resolve not to make any more faces at that booby, Bill Jeffrey, for the
girls to laugh at, nor to draw any more pictures on her slate of the Dame
Sobriety, as she called Julia, and lastly, not to pin any more chalk rags
on the boys’ coats. But she was a dear lover of fun and her resolutions
were soon for gotten. Her lessons, however, were generally well-learned,
and well recited; but she could not compete with Julia, neither did she
wish to. She often wondered how her sister could learn so long lessons,
and, secretly, she had her own suspicions on the subject, but chose to
keep them to herself.

Meantime the winter was passing rapidly and, to Mr. Wilmot, very agreeably
away. He liked his boarding place much and one of its inmates had almost,
without his knowledge, wound herself strongly around his heart. For a time
he struggled against it, for his first acquaintance with Julia had not
left a very favorable impression on his mind. But since that night she had
been perfectly pleasant before him and had given out but one demonstration
of her passionate temper.

This was one evening at the supper table. Zuba, a mulatto girl, brought in
some preserves and, in passing them, very carelessly spilled them upon
Julia’s new blue merino. In the anger of the moment Mr. Wilmot and his
good opinion were forgotten. Springing up, she gave the girl a blow which