She could not go to sleep, but she lay awake reflecting upon the events of the preceding day, and forming resolutions for the future; at the same time, considering that she had resolved, and resolved without effect, she wished to give her mind some more powerful motive; ambition she knew to be its most powerful incentive.

“Have I not,” said she to herself, “already won the prize of application, and cannot the same application procure me a much higher prize?  Mrs. Villars said that if the prize had been promised to the most amiable it would not have been given to me; perhaps it would not yesterday—­perhaps it might not to-morrow; but that is no reason that I should despair of ever deserving it.”

In consequence of this reasoning, Cecilia formed a design of proposing to her companions that they should give a prize, the first of the ensuing month (the first of June), to the most amiable.  Mrs. Villars applauded the scheme, and her companions adopted it with the greatest alacrity.

“Let the prize,” said they, “be a bracelet of our own hair;” and instantly their shining scissors were procured, and each contributed a lock of her hair.  They formed the most beautiful gradation of colours, from the palest auburn to the brightest black.  Who was to have the honour of plaiting them was now the question.

Caroline begged that she might, as she could plait very neatly, she said.

Cecilia, however, was equally sure that she could do it much better, and a dispute would inevitably have ensued, if Cecilia, recollecting herself just as her colour rose to scarlet, had not yielded—­yielded with no very good grace indeed, but as well as could be expected for the first time.  For it is habit which confers ease; and without ease, even in moral actions, there can be no grace.

The bracelet was plaited in the neatest manner by Caroline, finished round the edge with silver twist, and on it was worked, in the smallest silver letters, this motto, to the most amiable.  The moment it was completed, every body begged to try it on.  It fastened with little silver clasps, and as it was made large enough for the eldest girls, it was too large for the youngest; of this they bitterly complained, and unanimously entreated that it might be cut to fit them.

“How foolish!” exclaimed Cecilia.  “Don’t you perceive that, if you win it, you have nothing to do but to put the clasps a little further from the edge? but if we get it, we can’t make it larger.”

“Very true,” said they, “but you need not to have called us foolish, Cecilia!”

It was by such hasty and unguarded expressions as these that Cecilia offended; a slight difference in the manner makes a very material one in the effect.  Cecilia lost more love by general petulance than she could gain by the greatest particular exertions.

How far she succeeded in curing herself of this defect, how far she became deserving of the bracelet, and to whom the bracelet was given, shall be told in the history of the first of June.