had been excused just before recess, as her black mammy had arrived with
a note from Mrs. Hayes. The other girls were gathered in a little group
about Elinor, who was evidently telling them something of great
interest. Sylvia walked slowly along toward a little summer-house where
Miss Patten sometimes had little tea-parties. She hoped Grace would not
stay long with Miss Patten. The other girls were between Sylvia and the
arbor, and none of them moved to let her pass; nor did any of them speak
to her, as she paused with a word of greeting.

"Now, girls," she heard Elinor say; and the others, half under their
breath, but only too distinctly for Sylvia, called out: "Yankee,
Yankee!" Then like a flock of bright-colored birds they ran swiftly into
the summer-house.

For a moment Sylvia stood quite still. She realized that Elinor meant to
be hateful; but she remembered that her father had said that all
Americans were called "Yankees," and she was not a coward. She went
straight on to the arbor. Elinor Mayhew stood on the steps.

"You are just as much a Yankee as I am. And you ought to be proud of
it," declared Sylvia, facing the older girl.

"Hear that, girls!" called Elinor to the group about her. There was a
little angry murmur from the others.

"Don't you dare say that again, Miss Boston," called May Bailey, who
stood next to Elinor.

Sylvia was now thoroughly angry. She knew of no reason why these girls
should treat her in so unkind a fashion. She felt very desolate and