"O Miss Prue! must I? You know I never liked those bees, and now"--

"Yes, I understand all that, still I want you to go. I have reasons. You
are a King's daughter; make it one of your acts of self-denial."

Sara laughed.

"That seems odd enough, mayn't I ask your reasons?"

"No; well, yes, I believe I will tell you after all. I heard two of the
girls talking about you the other day, never mind who, and I didn't like
what they said. The fact is, Sara, they think you feel above them."

"Oh! how can they?"

"Well, they do, and perhaps they're half right; there, you needn't color
so! _I_ won't say you're not above them, but you mustn't feel so.
Did you ever think, Sara, that you might get up a circle of ten here?"

"Why, no."

"Well, why not? It wouldn't hurt the girls, nor you either," dryly.
"Anyhow, I want you to go to this quilting, wear that pretty new dress,
and be just as nice and cordial as you know how."

Sara sighed, but acquiesced. She had always obeyed Miss Prue, but this
was a trial. She wondered, all the way home, just why it should seem so.
Did she really feel above the other girls, that they failed to interest
her? Was it pride that made her long for quiet, and her books, rather