“Never you fash yourself,” replied John.  “The girl’s got her head, that’s a’; but her heart’s i’ the right place.  Ye’ll see she’ll put her strength to whatever there’s to be done.  She’ll be a master hand at teachin’, I’ll wager!”

“You always did think she was perfection,” replied the mother, in a crisp but not ill-natured tone, “an’ I’m not gainsayin’ that she’s not as near it as is often seen; but I’m main uneasy to see her carryin’ herself so positive.”

If John thought in his heart that Bel had come through direct heredity on the maternal side by this “carryin’ herself positive,” he knew better than to say so, and his only reply was a good-natured laugh, with:  “You’ll see!  I’m not afraid.  She’s a good child, an’ always was.”

Bel passed her examination triumphantly, and got the Wissan Bridge school; but she got only a contingent promise of the five-pound supplement.  It went sorely against her will to waive this point.  Very keenly Mr. Allan, who was on the Examining Board, watched her face as she modestly yet firmly pressed it.

The trustees did not deny that the Wissan Bridge school was a difficult and unruly one; that to manage it well was worth more money than the ordinary school salaries.  The question was whether this very young lady could manage it at all; and if she failed, as the last incumbent had,—­failed egregiously, too; the school had broken up in riotous confusion before the end of the year,—­the canny Scotchmen of the School Board did not wish to be pledged to pay that extra five pounds.  The utmost Bel could extract from them was a promise that if at the end of the year her teaching had proved satisfactory, the five pounds should be paid.  More they would not say; and after a short, sharp struggle with herself Bel accepted the terms; but she could not restrain a farewell shot at the trustees as she turned to go.  “I’m as sure o’ my five pounds as if ye’d promised it downright, sirs.  I shall keep ye a good school at Wissan Bridge.”

“We’ll make it guineas, then, Miss Bel,” cried Mr. Allan, enthusiastically, looking at his colleagues, who nodded their heads, and said, laughing, “Yes, guineas it is.”

“And guineas it will be,” retorted Little Bel, as with cheeks like peonies she left the room.

“Egad, but she’s a fine spirit o’ her ain, an’ as bonnie a face as I’ve seen since I remember,” cried old Mr. Dalgetty, the senior member of the Board, and the one hardest to please.  “I’d not mind bein’ a pupil at Wissan Bridge school the comin’ term myself.”  And he gave an old man’s privileged chuckle as he looked at his colleagues.  “But she’s over-young for the work,—­over-young.”

“She’ll do it,” said Mr. Allan, confidently.  “Ye need have no fear.  My wife’s had the training of the girl since she was little.  She’s got the best o’ stuff in her.  She’ll do it.”