That beautiful book, Frank--hold up your head, my love--what did you get it for ?" FRANK (reluctantly).--"Verses, ma'am." MRS.

HAZELDEAN (with triumph).--"Verses!--there, Carry, verses!" FRANK (in a hurried tone).--"Yes, but Leslie wrote them for me." MRS.

HAZELDEAN (recoiling).--"O Frank! a prize for what another did for you--that was mean." FRANK (ingenuously).--"You can't be more ashamed, Mother, than I was when they gave me the prize." MRS.

DALE (though previously provoked at being snubbed by Harry, now showing the triumph of generosity over temper).--"I beg your pardon, Frank.

Your mother must be as proud of that shame as she was of the prize." Mrs.Hazeldean puts her arm round Frank's neck, smiles beamingly on Mrs.
Dale, and converses with her son in a low tone about Randal Leslie.
Miss Jemima now approached Carry, and said in an "aside," "But we are forgetting poor Mr.Riccabocca.