"I do not remember my father, Miss Claudia," answered the boy, in a low,
half-stifled voice.
"And now you have hurt his feelings, Claudia; let him alone," whispered
the fair child, in a low voice, as the tears of a vague but deep
sympathy, felt but not understood, arose to her eyes.
Before another word could be said Mrs. Middleton entered the room.
"Ah, Bee, so your are making acquaintance with your new schoolmate! This
is my oldest daughter, Miss Beatrice, Ishmael. We call her Bee, because
it is the abbreviation of Beatrice, and because she is such a busy,
helpful little lady," she said, as she shook hands with the boy and
patted the little girl on the head.
The entrance of the teachers and the day pupils broke up this little
group; the children took their seats and the school was opened, as
before, with prayer. This morning the tutor led the exercises. Mr.
Middleton was absent on business. This day passed much as the previous
one, except that at its close there was Claudia to shake hands with
Ishmael; to tell him that he was a bright, intelligent boy, and that she
was proud of him; and all with the air of a princess rewarding some
deserving peasant.