"What-what, Jasper?"

"She may not regard it as a secret that she will always keep."

"Is she that sort? Oh, the horrid, horrid thing!" said Evelyn. "Oh, to think that I should have told her! But you cannot mean it; it is impossible that you can mean it, Jasper!"

"Don't you fret, love, for I will not let her. If she dares to tell on you, why, I will leave her, and then it is pretty near starvation for the poor little miss."

"You are sure you will not let her tell? I really am in rather a nasty sc.r.a.pe. They are making such a horrid fuss at school. This evening was the limit given for the guilty person-I should not say the guilty person, but the spirited person-to tell, and the spirited person has not told; and to-morrow morning goodness knows what will happen. Miss Henderson has a rod in pickle for us all, I expect. I declare it is quite exciting. None of the girls suspect me, and I talk so openly, and sometimes they laugh, too. I suppose we shall all be punished. I do not really know what is going to be done."

"You hold your tongue and let the whole matter slide. That is my advice," said Jasper. "I would either do that or I would out with it boldly-one or the other. Say you did it, and that you are not ashamed to have done it."

"I could not-I could not," said Evelyn. "I may be brave after a fashion, but I am not brave enough for that. Besides, you know, Jasper, I did say already that I had not done it."

"Oh, to be sure," answered Jasper. "I forgot that. Well, you must stick to your colors now, Eve; and at the worst, my darling, you have but to come to me and I will shield you."

"At the worst-yes, at the worst," said Evelyn. "I will remember that.

But if I want to come to you very badly how can I?"

"I will come every night to this stile at nine o'clock, and if you want me you will find me. I will stay here for exactly five minutes, and any message you may like to give you can put under this stone. Now, is not that a 'cute thought of your dear old Jasper's?"

"It is-it is," said the little girl. "Perhaps, Jasper, I had better be going back now."

"In a minute, darling-in a minute."

"And how are you getting on with Sylvia, Jasper?"

"Oh, such fun, dear! I am having quite an exciting time-hidden from the old gentleman, and acting the gipsy, and pretending I am feeding him with old fowls when I am giving him the tenderest chicken. You have not, darling, a little sc.r.a.p of money to spare that you can help old Jasper with?"

"Oh! you are so greedy, Jasper; you are always asking for things. Uncle Edward makes me an allowance, but not much; no one would suppose I was the heiress of everything."

"Well dear, the money don't matter. I will come here again to-morrow night. Now, keep up your p.e.c.k.e.r, little Eve, and all will be well."

Evelyn kissed Jasper, and was about to run back to the house when the good woman remembered the light shoes in which she had come out.

"I'll carry you back," she said. "Those precious little feet shall not touch the frosty ground."

Jasper was very strong, and Evelyn was all too willing. She was carried to within fifty yards of the side entrance in Jasper's strong arms; then she dashed back to the house, kissed her hand to the dark shadow under a tree, and returned to her own room. Read had seen her, but Evelyn knew nothing of that. Read had had her suspicions before now, and determined, as she said, to keep a sharp lookout on young miss in future.

CHAPTER XXIII.-ONE WEEK OF GRACE.

There never was a woman more distressed and puzzled than Miss Henderson.

She consulted with her sister, Miss Lucy; she consulted with her favorite teacher, Miss Thompson. They talked into the small hours of the night, and finally it was resolved that Evelyn should have another chance.

"I must appeal to her honor; it is impossible that any girl could be quite dest.i.tute of that quality," said Miss Henderson.

"I am sure you are doing right, sister," said Miss Lucy. "Once you harden a girl you do for her. Whatever Evelyn Wynford's faults may be, she will hold a high position one day. It would be terrible-more than terrible-if she grew up a wicked woman. How awful to have power and not to use it aright! My dear Maria, whatever you are, be merciful."

"I must pray to G.o.d to guide me aright," answered Miss Maria. "This is a case for a right judgment in all things. Poor child! I pity her from my heart; but how to bring her to the necessary confession is the question."

Miss Henderson went to bed, but not to sleep. Early in the morning she arose, having made up her mind what to do.

Accordingly, when Audrey and Evelyn arrived in the pretty little governess-cart-Audrey with a high color in her cheeks, looking as sweet and fresh and good and nice as English girl could look, and Evelyn tripping after her with a certain defiance on her white face and a look of hostility in her brown eyes-they were both greeted by Miss Henderson herself.

"Ah, Audrey dear," she said in a cheerful and friendly tone, "how are you this morning?-How do you do, Evelyn?-No, Audrey, you are not late; you are quite in nice time. Will you go to the schoolroom, my dear? I will join you presently for prayers.-Evelyn, can I have a word with you?"

"Why so?" asked Evelyn, backing a little.

"Because I have something I want to say to you."

Audrey also stood still. She cast a hostile glance at Miss Henderson, saying to herself:

"After all, my head-mistress is horribly unfair; she is doubtless going to tell Evelyn that she suspects her."

"Evelyn," said Audrey, "I will wait for you in the dressing-room if Miss Henderson has no objection."

"But I have, for it may be necessary for me to detain your cousin for a short time," said Miss Henderson. "Go, Audrey; do not keep me any longer."

Evelyn stood sullenly and perfectly still in the hall; Audrey disappeared in the direction of the schoolrooms. Miss Henderson now took Evelyn's hand and led her into her private sitting-room.

"What do you want me for?" asked the little girl.

"I want to say something to you, Evelyn."

"Then say it, please."

"You must not be pert."

"I do not know what 'pert' is."

"What you are now. But there, my dear child, please control yourself; believe me, I am truly sorry for you."

"Then you need not be," said Evelyn, with a toss of her head. "I do not want anybody to be sorry for me. I am one of the most lucky girls in the world. Sorry for me! Please don't. Mothery could never bear to be pitied, and I won't be pitied; I have nothing to be pitied for."

"Who did you say never cared to be pitied?" asked Miss Henderson.

"Never you mind."

"And yet, Evelyn, I think I have heard the words. You allude to your mother. I understand from Lady Frances that your mother is dead. You loved her, did you not?"

Evelyn gave a quick nod; her face seemed to say, "That is nothing to you."

"I see you did, and she was fond of you."

In spite of herself Evelyn gave another nod.