the rest of the class moved away to their seats.

"What's the matter, dear?" she asked. "Aren't you well? You look
pale and ill! What is it, Tillie?"

Tillie's overwrought heart could bear no more. Her head fell on
Miss Margaret's shoulder as she broke into wildest crying. Her
body quivered with her gasping sobs and her little hands clutched
convulsively at Miss Margaret's gown.

"You poor little thing!" whispered Miss Margaret, her arms about
the child; "WHAT'S the matter with you, honey? There, there, don't
cry so--tell me what's the matter."

It was such bliss to be petted like this--to feel Miss Margaret's
arms about her and hear that loved voice so close to her!--for the
last time! Never again after this moment would she be liked and
caressed! Her heart was breaking and she could not answer for her
sobbing.

"Tillie, dear, sit down here in my chair until I send the other
children out to recess--and then you and I can have a talk by
ourselves, "Miss Margaret said, leading the child a step to her
arm-chair on the platform. She stood beside the chair, holding
Tillie's throbbing head to her side, while she tapped the bell
which dismissed the children.

"Now," she said, when the door had closed on the last of them and
she had seated herself and drawn Tillie to her again, "tell me
what you are crying for, little girlie."