are _almost_ perfect now. A little more study, and she will easily be at the head of the class."

It was announced that day at school that Captain John Atherton had offered a prize for the best average, and Sprite gasped when the teacher said;

"The prize is well worth working for. It is a large prize for any boy or girl to win. It is fifty dollars in gold! Now work for it! You will all gain by trying, for while but one can win the prize, every scholar who works for it, has higher scholarship, and has acquired more knowledge than if he had not entered the competition."

The pupils were greatly interested, and it was evident that many intended to strive for the prize. Harry Grafton, on the way home from school, turned quickly to look at Rob as he asked;

"What's Gwen Harcourt doing these days?"

"I've no idea," Rob answered in a careless manner, and if he had spoken his thoughts, he would have said that he did not greatly care.

"Well, she's not going to school, and what is queerer than that, she isn't coming over here to tell us all about it," Harry said.

There were other matters of greater interest to be talked of, and the two boys soon forgot Gwen.

Gwen Harcourt never allowed herself to be long forgotten, and one bright afternoon, she decided to run off by herself and have a little fun of the kind that she liked best.

She stopped first at Aunt Judith's cottage.

She could not have told why she chose first to call there. Aunt Judith and the little maid had gone down to the parsonage for a call, and Gwen knocked until she was tired, then paused on the step, trying to decide where next she would call.

"Stupid that everyone is in school, and won't be out for an hour!" she said.

Then her eyes brightened.

"I know where I'll go!" she cried.

She turned from the avenue into a pretty street, and ran along until she reached a house that set a little farther back than the others.

"There's a lady who lives here who looks pleasant, and I've always meant to see the inside of her house," thought Gwen. "I can stay a little while there, and be just in time to meet the other girls when they come out of school."

She rang the bell.

No one came to the door. After waiting a few moments she rang again.

Again she waited, listening for approaching footsteps. Then she stooped, and tried to peep through the keyhole. She turned, a crafty light in her eyes, and she nodded until her curls danced as she softly said;

"What if the door isn't locked? And what if I should walk right in, and sit down? What would happen?"

She looked elfish as she asked the questions, a smile parting her lips.

Carefully she turned the knob and then, a gentle push opened the door, and on tiptoe, she entered, making her way along the hall to a room where the sunlight streamed across the floor.

The hall had been dark, and coming suddenly upon the broad band of sunlight, Gwen was almost blinded, and for a few seconds, she did not see other objects in the room. A chair stood near the door, and she climbed upon it, squirming around, and sitting down as if it were exactly what she had come intending to do.

She wondered why the house was so still.

She also wondered where the pleasant faced lady was. She felt strangely nervous, and a bit afraid.

She could not have told why she felt afraid to move, and so sat absolutely still. Her eyes roved from one object to another, first looking at the pictures on the wall, then the ornaments upon the mantel, then the lamp upon the table just before her, then,--

Between the lamp, and a tall vase that stood near it, a pair of eyes were looking sharply at her.

Gwen clutched the arms of her chair, caught her breath in terror, and then screamed.

"Strange that I can't read without being interrupted by a child who knows no better than to poke her impudent little nose in here, uninvited!"

The voice low and angry made her tremble with fear, and she slid from the chair, raced out through the hall, ran down the street, never once looked behind her.

"I won't _ever_ go _anywhere_ again, unless somebody asks me to," she said to herself. Who that ever had known Gwen would believe that she could refrain from doing just the same thing, the first time that her curiosity prompted her? She had been frightened, and, for the moment, would have promised anything.

The man, a studious, quiet man, with an unpleasant disposition, had been annoyed when Gwen had interrupted his reading.

Knowing little of children, he had not dreamed that he would frighten her, and when she ran out, he simply turned another page, and continued reading.

He had wished her to fully realize that she was an intruder, and when she turned and ran, he felt that she understood.

The first person that she met was the private teacher who, for the past few weeks had been endeavoring to have at least a few hours each day devoted study.

Gwen had refused to look at a lesson book in the forenoon, and when afternoon had arrived, she had left the house to escape instruction.

"Miss Gwen, I've been looking everywhere for you, and your mamma is really quite nervous, because you've been gone so long. Where have you been?" the young woman asked.

"I don't _have_ to tell you," Gwen replied rudely, "but I will because I want to. I made some calls, and the last one was funny, and queer too. I was frightened _some_, and I ran out of the house where a cross man just shouted at me!"

"Was he a neighbor?" the teacher asked, looking curiously at Gwen.

"Of course not," cried Gwen. "What fun would it be to call on neighbors? I'd rather go to houses where I _don't know_ the people, just for the sake of seeing what they look like, and how their houses look."

The young teacher was not surprised. That very morning, soon after breakfast, upon returning to her room, she had found Gwen on her knees searching her trunk. Gwen had neither blushed, nor looked abashed.

"I wanted to know how many dresses you brought with you," she had said coolly, "and I don't see but one in the closet, two in this trunk, and one you have on. Is that all you have?"

Mrs. Harcourt passing the door, looked in to smile at Gwen.

"You mustn't mind if my little daughter examines your belongings in your trunks or bureau drawers. She's only deeply interested in you," she said.

The young governess felt like saying that she did not enjoy the sort of interest that made a child feel free to handle and examine the property of others, but she said nothing.

She knew that Mrs. Harcourt considered Gwen faultless.

* * * * * * * *

Weeks had passed since the little pupils had commenced to strive to win the prize. Now there was great excitement. At the end of the afternoon session the name of the winner was to be announced, and in the evening the Holiday party at Sherwood Hall was to be enjoyed.

Of all the boys and girls at school, Sprite Seaford was surely the most restless.

At one time her cheeks would be hot, and soon after the color would leave them.

She had worked very, _very_ hard to win the prize.

Oh, whose was it to be?

She clasped, and unclasped her nervous hands.

And when at last the teacher went to the board just back of her desk and wrote:

"Sprite Seaford, Prize winner," Sprite leaned back in her seat, pale, and almost breathless. For a moment not a sound broke the silence.

Sprite stared at the written words as if half stunned with surprise.

"Three cheers for Sprite Seaford!" shouted Rob Lindsey, forgetting that he was in school, and the teacher laughed outright.

"Give them, every one of you," she cried, and they gave them with a will.

* * * * * * * *

Evening had come, starlight, moonlight in the great garden at Sherwood Hall, and a blaze of light indoors, where little feet kept time to sweet music, and sweeter voices laughed and talked in merry mood.

Princess Polly in white with silver spangles, a silver bandeau holding her powdered curls in place, looked like a little lady of the time of