disgrace were to the proud spirit of Augusta for the moment, she had the good sense to acknowledge afterwards that it was well for her that her pride and over-weening vanity had been checked, before they became irremediable.

THE

PRIZE.

CHAPTER I.

ONE very cold evening, about a week before Christmas, an excessively merry party was grouped round a large blazing fire at Mr. Regstein's. He, himself, was seated in a large arm-chair, with a boy of about twelve years old on his knee; an older brother was standing by his mother, who was sitting on the other side of the fire-place, turning over the leaves of a beautifully illustrated book; and at the table sat a brother and sister, looking at the engravings in

two or three other handsomely bound books, and showing them with great delight to the girl's governess, who was sitting at work also at the table. The boys were just come home from school, and were very happily employed in showing their prizes. Mr. Regstein was in an uncommonly good humour, pleased to find what clever and promising sons he had; Mrs. Regstein was delighted; and Clara was pleased too, though she was secretly longing to be able to do likewise. The boys were of course proud and pleased to exhibit these proofs of their own prowess, and told many school tales which brought down peals of laughter from the whole party. If Mrs. Regstein did think them grown rougher and ruder since they last parted, still both parents agreed that there was no place like school for getting boys on, and that perhaps it was better for them to be a little rough, as they had to fight their own way in the world.

Clara was not quite so merry as usual that night: when she had done looking at the books, she sat down on a low footstool, with her back to the fire, and seemed lost in thought.

Her mother perceived it.

"What are you thinking of so seriously, Clara dear?" said she.

"I was thinking how nice it was to get prizes," was the reply.

"Well, you shall have your chance soon," said Mr. Regstein; "and then I dare say you'll bring home as many prizes as any of them."

Alfred laughed; Clara looked at him, but said nothing; yet that little laugh rankled in her heart, it seemed to doubt her ability, and hurt her pride so much, that she resolved, if ever she did go to school, she would bring home a prize come what would.

Clara had been brought up by a governess; but she had now reached the age of fifteen, and Mr. and