The boy was only a year older than Maria. He was much larger and
taller, but although she looked a child, at that moment he looked
younger. Both of his brown hands hung at his sides, clinched like a
baby's. He had a sulky expression.

"Come along," urged the girl.

He stood kicking the ground hesitatingly for a moment, then he
followed the girl across the field. They went down the road until
they came to the school-house. Miss Slome was still there; her
graceful profile could be seen at a window.

Both children marched in upon Miss Slome, who was in a
recitation-room, bending over a desk. She looked up, and her face
lightened at sight of Maria.

"Oh, it's you, dear?" said she.

Maria then saw, for the first time, the white sparkle of a diamond on
the third finger of her left hand. She felt that she hated her.

"He wants to speak to you," she said, indicating Wollaston with a
turn of her hand.

Miss Slome looked inquiringly at Wollaston, who stood before her like
a culprit, blushing and shuffling, and yet with a sort of doggedness.

"Well, what is it, Wollaston?" she asked, patronizingly.

"I came back to ask you if--you would have me?" said Wollaston, and