“Consternation! what is the matter now?” inquired the heiress, dropping her victim, from whom general attention was now diverted.

“What is the matter, Bee? what is the matter?” inquired all the young ladies, gathering around the excited girl.

Beatrice could only sob forth the words: 

“Nothing, only Claudia vexes me.”

“Jealous little imp!” laughed Miss Merlin.

“I am not jealous, I am only vexed,” sobbed Beatrice.

“What at? what at?” was the general question.

But Beatrice only answered by tears and sobs.  This gentlest of all gentle creatures was in a passion!  It was unprecedented; it was wonderful and alarming!

“I should really like to know what is the matter with you, you foolish child!  Why are you so angry with me?  It is very unkind!” said Miss Merlin, feeling, she knew not why, a little ashamed.

“I would not be angry with you if you would treat him properly, like a young gentleman, and not like a dog!  You treat him for all the world as you treat Fido,” said this little lady of so few years, speaking with an effort of moral courage that distressed her more than her companions could have guessed, as she turned and walked away.

Ishmael stepped after her.  There were moments when the boy’s soul arose above all the embarrassments incident to his age and condition.

He stepped after her, and taking her hand, and pressing it affectionately, said: 

“Thank you, Bee!  Thank you, dear, dearest, Bee!  It was bravely done!”

She turned her tearful, smiling face towards the youth, and replied: 

“But do not blame Claudia.  She means well always; but, she is—­”

“What is she?” inquired the youth anxiously; for there was no book in his collection that he studied with so much interest as Claudia.  There was no branch of knowledge that he wished so earnestly to be thoroughly acquainted with as with the nature of Claudia.

“What is she?” he again eagerly inquired.

“She is blind, where you are concerned.”

“I think so too,” murmured Ishmael, as he pressed the hand of his little friend and left her.

Was Ishmael’s allegiance to his “elect lady” turned aside?  Ah, no!  Claudia might misunderstand, humiliate, and wound him; but she was still “his own star,” the star of destiny.  He went straight back to her side.  But before a word could be exchanged between them the bell rang that summoned the young ladies to their places in the classroom.

The long drawing room, which was opened only once or twice in the year, for large evening parties, had been fitted up and decorated for this fete.

The room being in its summer suit of straw matting, lace curtains, and brown holland chair and sofa covering, needed but little change in its arrangements.

At the upper end of the room was erected a stage; upon that was placed a long table; behind the table were arranged the seats of the examining committee; and before it, and below the stage, were ranged, row behind row, the benches for the classes, a separate bench being appropriated to each class.  The middle of the room was filled up with additional chairs, arranged in rows, for the accommodation of the audience.  The walls were profusely decorated with green boughs and blooming flowers, arranged in festoons and wreaths.