Nora had a real talent for mimicry; she convulsed her audience with imitations of some of the High School teachers.

When it came Miriam's turn she sat down at the piano with a queer look on her face.
"I believe she means mischief," thought Grace to herself, as she watched the girl curiously.
Miriam ran a brilliant scale up the piano, for music was another of her many accomplishments.

Then she paused and turned to the others.
"I won't sing," she said, "unless Miss Pierson promises to recite us something first, Poe's 'Raven,' for instance." Grace flushed angrily and was about to interfere when, to her surprise, Anne herself replied: "I shall be glad to if that is the poem you like best.

I always preferred 'Annabel Lee.'" Miriam was too amazed to answer.

She could never form an idea of what it cost Anne in self-control to acquiesce; but the young girl had gained a new strength that day.