Aunt Judith | Page 2

caustic little tongue. "I suppose you study the poets, Miss Irvine;
and if so, doubtless you will remember who it is that says:--
'Oh wad some power the giftie gie us To see oursels as ithers see us!'"
The mischievous child stopped for a second, and then continued: "I am
afraid you look at yourself and your various charms through
rose-coloured spectacles, certainly not with 'a jaundiced eye;'--but I beg

your pardon; were you about to speak?" and Winnie looked innocently
into the fair face of her antagonist, which was now white and set with
passion.
The blue eyes were flashing with an angry light, the pretty lips
trembling, and the smooth brow knit in a heavy frown; but only for a
few moments. By-and-by the features relaxed their fixed and stony
gaze; the countenance resumed its usual haughty expression; and,
lifting up the book which was lying on her lap, Ada opened it at the
required page, and ended the discussion by saying, "I shall consider it
my duty to inform Mrs. Elder of your charming sentiments; in the
meantime, kindly excuse me from continuing such highly edifying
conversation." With that she bent her head over the French grammar,
and soon appeared thoroughly engrossed in the conjugation of the verb
avoir, to have, while her mischievous school-mate turned away with a
light shrug of her pretty shoulders.
Winnifred Blake, the youngest daughter of a wealthy, influential
gentleman, was a bright, happy girl of about fourteen years, with a kind,
generous heart, and warm, impulsive nature. Being small and slight in
stature, she seemed to all appearance a mere child; and the quaint,
gipsy face peeping from beneath a mass of shaggy, tangled curls
showed a pair of large laughter-loving eyes and a mischievous little
mouth.
Was she clever?
Well, that still remained to be seen. Certainly, the bright, intelligent
countenance gave no indication of a slow understanding and feeble
brain; but Winnie hated study, and consequently was usually to be
found adorning the foot of the class. "It is deliciously comfortable here,
girls," she would say to her school-mates when even they protested
against such continual indolence; "you see I am near the fire, and that is
a consideration in the cold, wintry days, I assure you. Don't annoy
yourselves over my shortcomings. Lazy, selfish people always get on in
the world;" and speaking thus, the incorrigible child would nestle back
in her lowly seat with an air of the utmost satisfaction.

Ada Irvine smiled in supreme contempt over what she termed Winnie's
stupidity, and would repeat her own perfectly-learned lesson with
additional triumph in her tone; but the faultless repetition by no means
disconcerted her lazy school-mate, who was often heard to say, with
seeming simplicity, "I could do just as well if I chose; but then I don't
choose, and that, you see, makes all the difference."
Ada Irvine was an only child, and her parents having gone abroad in
the (alas, how often vain!) search after health, had left her with Mrs.
Elder, to whose care she was intrusted with every charge for her
comfort and advantage--a charge which that young lady took great care
should be amply fulfilled. She was only six months older than Winnie,
but very tall, and already giving the promise of great beauty in after
years. Talented and brilliant also, she held a powerful sway over the
minds and actions of her schoolmates, and queened in the school right
royally; but the cold, haughty pride which marred her nature failed to
make her such a general favourite as her fiery, little adversary.
In the afternoon, when the school was being dismissed for the day, Ada
sought the presence of the lady-principal; and consequently, just as
Winnie was strapping up her books preparatory to going home, a
servant appeared in the dressing-room summoning Miss Blake to Mrs.
Elder's sanctum.
"Now you're in for it, Winnie," said the girls pityingly; "Ada has kept
to her word and told. How mean!" But the child only tossed her curly
head, and with slightly heightened colour followed the maid to the
comfortable parlour where the lady-principal was usually to be found.
Mrs. Elder, seated by a small fire which burned brightly in the shining
grate, turned a face expressive of the most severe displeasure on the
defiant little culprit as she entered; while Ada, standing slightly in the
shadow of the window-curtain, looked at the victim haughtily, and
shaped her lips in a malicious smile at the lady-principal's opening
words.
"I presume you are aware of my reason for requesting your presence
here, Miss Blake," she began in icy tones; "and I trust you have come

before me sincerely penitent for your fault. I cannot express in
sufficiently strong terms the displeasure I feel at your shameful conduct
this