The class to which Lilias belonged was next in order. As
Mrs. Bellamy arose, Lilias perceived she held in her hand two themes,
while before her on the table lay a small box. Addressing Laura Graham,
who sat with an air of conscious superiority at the head of the class,
Mrs. Bellamy said,
"Of the two themes I hold in my hand, the one written by you, Miss
Graham, and the other by Miss Lilias Tracy, I am _sorry_ to say that
_yours_ is best."
Lilias could scarce restrain her tears, as she saw Laura advance,
proudly, towards Mrs. Bellamy, and bend her head as if to receive the
riband that suspended the glittering prize; but what was her surprise,
when Mrs. Bellamy, instead of offering it to Laura, in the usual manner,
handed her a small box, closely sealed.
"As the best French scholar, Miss Graham," said she, "I am compelled to
bestow on you the medal which you will find enclosed in a box; but, as
an act of justice, and a proper punishment for your want of integrity,
(Mrs. B. having casually overheard what passed in the garden), I forbid
you to wear, or exhibit it, for twelve months."
"Come hither," said Mrs. B. to Lilias, as Laura, pale and trembling, and
drowned in tears, hurried in shame and sorrow from the room. Lilias,
scarcely less overwhelmed than her guilty fellow-pupil, advanced with
faultering step, and Mrs. Bellamy, suspending from her neck a small and
highly-finished locket, said:
"I can give but one medal in each class for improvement in French, and
had not Miss Graham been in your class, yours, Miss Tracy would have
been the best; I cannot, however, allow this opportunity to pass without
some lasting memorial of your merit.
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