On the following morning Audrey and Evelyn started off for school. On the way Audrey turned to her companion.  
“I wonder if anything has been discovered with regard to the injured book?” she said.
 
“Oh, I wish you would not talk so continually about that stupid old fuss!” said Evelyn in her crossest voice.
 
“It is useless to shirk it,” was Audrey’s reply. “You do not suppose for a single moment that Miss Henderson will not get to the bottom of the mischief¹? For my part, I think I could understand a girl doing it just for a moment in a spirit of revenge, although I have never yet felt revengeful to any one—but how any one could keep it up and allow the school to get into trouble is what puzzles me.”
 
“Were you ever at school before, Audrey?” was Evelyn’s remark.
 
“No; were you?”
 
“I wish I had been; I have always longed for school.”
 
“Well, you have your wish at last. How do you like it?”
 
“I should like it fairly well if I were put into a 265 higher form, and if this stupid fuss were not going on.”
 
“Why do you dislike the subject being mentioned so much?”
 
Evelyn colored slightly. Audrey looked at her. There was no suspicion in Audrey’s eyes; it was absolutely impossible for her to connect her cousin with anything so mean and low. Evelyn had a great many objectionable habits, but that she could commit what was in Audrey’s opinion a very grave sin, and then tell lies about it, was more than the young girl could either imagine or realize.
 
The pretty governess-cart took them to school in good time, and the usual routine of the morning began. It was immediately after prayers, however, that Miss Henderson spoke² from her desk to the assembled school.
 
“I am sorry to tell you all,” she began, “that up to the present I have not got the slightest clue to the mystery of the injured book. I have questioned, I have gone carefully into every particular, and all I can find out is that the book was left in classroom No. 4 (which is usually occupied by the girls of the Fourth Form); that it was placed there at nine o’clock in the morning, and was not used again by Miss Thompson until school was over—namely, between five and six o’clock in the evening. During that time, as far as I can make out, only one girl was alone in the room. That girl was Evelyn Wynford. I do not in any way accuse Evelyn Wynford of having committed the sin—for sin it was—but I 266 have to mention the fact that she was alone in the room during recess³, having failed to learn a lesson which had been set her. During the afternoon the room was, as far as I can tell, empty for a couple of hours, and of course some one may have come in then and done the mischief. I therefore have not the slightest intention of suspecting a girl who only arrived that morning; but I mention the fact, all the same, that Evelyn Wynford was alone in the room for the space of twenty minutes.”
 
While Miss Henderson was speaking all eyes were turned in Evelyn’s direction; all eyes saw a white and stubborn face, and two angry brown eyes that flashed almost wildly round the room and then looked down. Just for an instant a few of the girls said to themselves, “That is a guilty face.” But again they thought, “How could she do it? Why should she do it? No, it certainly cannot be Evelyn Wynford.”
 
As to Audrey, she pitied Evelyn very much. She thought it extremely hard on her that Miss Henderson should have singled her out for individual notice on this most painful occasion, and out of pity for her she would not once glance in her direction.
 
Miss Henderson paused for a moment; then she continued:
 
“Whoever the sinner may be, I am determined⁴ to sift⁵ this crime to the bottom. I shall severely⁶ punish the girl who tore the book unless she makes up her mind to confess to me between now and to-morrow evening. If she confesses before school is over 267 to-morrow evening, I shall not only not punish but I shall forgive her. It will be my painful duty, however, to oblige her to confess her sin before the entire school, as in no other way can the rest of the girls be exonerated⁷. I give her till to-morrow evening to make up her mind. I hope she will ask for strength from above to enable her to make this very painful confession⁸. I myself shall pray that she may be guided aright. If no one comes forward by that time, I must again assemble the school to suggest a very terrible alternative.”
 
Here Miss Henderson left the room, and the different members of the school went off to their respective duties.
 
School went on much as usual. The girls were forced to attend to their numerous duties; the all-absorbing theme was therefore held more or less in abeyance⁹ for the time being. At recess, however, knots of girls might be seen talking to one another in agitated¹⁰ whispers. The subject of the injured book was the one topic on every one’s tongue. Evelyn produced chocolates, crystallized fruits, and other dainties from a richly embroidered¹¹ bag which she wore at her side, and soon had her own little coterie¹² of followers¹³. To these she imparted her opinion that Miss Henderson was not only a fuss, but a dragon; that probably a servant had torn the book—or perhaps, she added, Miss Thompson herself.
 
“Why,” said Evelyn, “should not Miss Thompson greatly dislike Miss Henderson, and tear the outside page out of the book just to spite her?” 268
But this theory was not received as possible by any one to whom she imparted it. Miss Thompson was a favorite; Miss Thompson hated no one; Miss Thompson was the last person on earth to do such a shabby thing.
 
“Well,” said Evelyn crossly, “I don’t know who did it; and what is more, I don’t care. Come and walk with me, Alice,” she said to a pretty little curly-headed girl who sat next to her at class. “Come and let me tell you about all the grandeur¹⁴ which will be mine by and by. I shall be queen by and by. It is a shame—a downright shame—to worry a girl in my position with such a trifle as a torn book. The best thing we can all do is to subscribe¹⁵ amongst ourselves and give the old dragon another Sesame and Lilies. I don’t mind subscribing¹⁶. Is it not a good thought?”
 
“But that will not help her,” said Alice; while Cherry, who stood near, solemnly shook her head.
 
“Why will it not help her?” asked Evelyn.
 
“Because it was the inscription¹⁷ she valued—the inscription in her brother’s writing; her brother who is dead, you know.”
 
Evelyn was about to make another pert remark when a memory assailed¹⁸ her. Naughty, heartless, rude as she was, she had somewhere a spark of feeling. If she had loved any one it was the excitable and strange woman she had called “mothery.”
 
“If mothery gave me something and wrote my name in it I’d be fond of it,” she thought; and just 269 for a moment a prick¹⁹ of remorse²⁰ visited her hard little heart.
 
No other girl in the whole school could confess the crime which Evelyn had committed, and the evening came in considerable gloom and excitement. Audrey could talk of nothing else on their way home.
 
“It is terrible,” said Audrey. “I am really sorry we are both at the school; it makes things so unpleasant for us. And you, Evelyn—I did pity you when Miss Henderson said to-day that you were alone in the room. Did you not feel awful?”
 
“No, I did not,” replied Evelyn. “At least, perhaps I did just for a minute.”
 
“Well, it was very brave of you. I should not have liked to be in your position.”
 
Evelyn turned the conversation.
 
“I wonder whether any one will confess to-morrow,” said Audrey again.
 
“Perhaps it was one of the servants,” remarked Evelyn. Then she said abruptly²¹, “Oh, do let us change the subject!”
 
“There is something fine about Evelyn after all,” thought Audrey; “And I am so glad! She took that speech of Miss Henderson&rsqu............