She thought of it that night as she sat in meeting.

She glanced across at a girl who went to the same school--a large, heavily built child with a coarseness of grain showing in every feature--and a sense of superiority at once exalted and humiliated her.

She said to herself that she was much finer and prettier than Lottie Sears, but that she ought to be thankful and not proud because she was.

She felt vain, but she was sorry because of her vanity.

She knew how charming her pink gingham gown was, but she knew that she ought to have asked her mother if she might wear it.