"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 cla.s.sroom 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 have to mention the fact that she was alone in the room during recess, 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 s.p.a.ce 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 determined to sift this crime to the bottom. I shall severely 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 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 exonerated. 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 confession. I myself shall pray that she may be guided aright. If no one comes forward by that time, I must again a.s.semble 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 abeyance for the time being. At recess, however, knots of girls might be seen talking to one another in agitated 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 embroidered bag which she wore at her side, and soon had her own little coterie of followers. 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?"

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 cla.s.s. "Come and let me tell you about all the grandeur 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 subscribe amongst ourselves and give the old dragon another _Sesame and Lilies_. I don't mind subscribing. 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 inscription 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 a.s.sailed 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 for a moment a p.r.i.c.k of remorse 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 abruptly, "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's very well indeed.

Now, I scarcely thought it fair to have her name singled out in the way it was. Surely Miss Henderson could not have suspected my little cousin!"

At dinner Audrey mentioned the whole circ.u.mstance of the torn book to her parents. The girls were again dining with the Squire and Lady Frances. The Squire was interested for a short time; he then began to chat with Evelyn, who was fast, in her curious fashion, becoming a favorite of his. She was always at her best in his society, and now nestled up close to him, and said in an almost winsome manner:

"Don't let us talk about the old fuss at school."

"Whom do you call the old fuss, Evelyn?"

"Miss Henderson. I don't like her a bit, Uncle Edward."

"That is very naughty, Evelyn. Remember, I want you to like her."

"Why?"

"Because for the present, at least, she is your instructress."

"But why should I like my instructress?"

"She cannot influence you unless you like her."

"Then she will never influence me, because I shall never like her,"

cried the reckless girl. "I wish you would teach me, Uncle Edward. I should learn from you; you would influence me because I love you."

"I do try to influence you, Evelyn, and I want you to do a great many things for me."

"I would do anything in all the world for him," thought Evelyn, "except confess that I tore that book; but that I would not do even for him. Of course, now that there has been such an awful fuss, I am sorry I did it, but for no other reason. It is one comfort, however, they cannot possibly suspect me."

Lady Frances, however, took Audrey's information in a very different spirit from what her husband did. She felt indignant at Evelyn's having been singled out for special and undoubtedly unfavorable notice by Miss Henderson, and resolved to call at the school the next day to have an interview with the head-mistress. She said nothing to Audrey about her intention, and the girls went off to school without the least idea of what Lady Frances was about to do. Her carriage stopped before Chepstow House a little before noon. She inquired for Miss Henderson, and was immediately admitted into the head-mistress's private sitting-room.

There Miss Henderson a moment or two later joined her.

"I am sorry to trouble you," began Lady Frances at once, "but I have come on a matter which occasioned me a little distress. I allude to the mystery of the torn book. Audrey has told me all about it, so I am in possession of full particulars. Of course I am extremely sorry for you, and can quite understand your feelings with regard to the injury of a book you value so much; but, at the same time, you will excuse my saying, Miss Henderson, that I think your mentioning Evelyn's name in the way you did was a little too obvious. It was uncomfortable for the poor child, although I understand from my daughter that she took it extremely well."

"In a case of this kind," replied Miss Henderson quietly, "one has to be just, and not to allow any favoritism to appear."

"Oh, certainly," said Lady Frances; "it was my wish in sending both girls to school that they should find their level."

"And I regret to say," answered Miss Henderson, "that your niece's level is not a high one."

"Alas! I am aware of it. I have been terribly pained since Evelyn came home by her recklessness and want of obedience; but this is a very different matter. This shows a most depraved nature; and of course you cannot for a moment have suspected my niece when you spoke of her being alone in the room."

"Had any other girl been alone in the room I should equally have mentioned her name," said Miss Henderson. "I certainly did not at the time suspect Miss Wynford."

"What do you mean by 'did not at the time'? Have you changed your opinion?"

Lady Frances's face turned very white.

"I am sorry to say that I have."

"What do you mean?"

"If you will pardon me for a moment I will explain."

Miss Henderson left the room.