Honor sighed. Tidiness was not her strong point. She admired it, but found it difficult to attain. She was usually in a hurry, and her things had a fatal way of catching on knobs and hooks. Suppose that (as actually happened several times) she straightened her top-drawer to admiration: collars in their box, handkerchiefs in their case, ribbons folded neatly. The very first time thereafter that she came to get a handkerchief, her cuff-button would catch--say, in the fringe of her blue scarf. With her quick, bird-like motion, out came the scarf, dragging after it ribbons, belts, gloves; pell mell went all in a heap on the floor. It was supper time--or class time, or bed-time; back went everything pell mell, into the drawer, and off flew La Moriole, with never another thought. Accordingly, her top drawer was apt to resemble rather the nest of a field-mouse, said Soeur Séraphine severely, than the drawer of a pupil of the Pension Madeleine. Honor was truly sorry. She would try; she _did_ try, whenever she could bring her mind to such things as bureau drawers. But with the History Prize to be really studied for--not so much for its own sake as to please the dear Professor, and for love of the study itself--and with her other lessons, and the visits to Mrs. Damian and the daily practicing for the Race--how _could_ she remember her top drawer? And even if she should have the most perfect drawer in the world, it would be too mean to take the prize away from poor old Maria, when it was the only prize she could ever get.
There had been some doubt in the minds of the Ladies whether Honor ought to be allowed to run in the race for the golden apples. It would break her heart not to do so, but was her ankle strong enough? The doctor was anxiously consulted. After a thorough examination, he decided that she might run if two weeks of daily practice produced no ill effect. The ankle was upon probation. Every day Honor ran so many times along the _allée_; every evening the probationary member was rubbed and kneaded, to the accompaniment of a running fire of questions.
“Here, my child, there is no pain? You are positive? How when I press on _this_ spot?” etc., etc. But there never was any pain, and with every practice run, Honor declared she felt stronger and stronger.