Clare gave a little natural laugh.

"Oh, my dear woman--I'm all nerves just at present. Of course I'm not suggesting anything. One gets absurd ideas into one's head. I'm only too relieved to hear you laugh at me. Your common sense is always a real support to me, you know. I've grown to depend on it all these years. I'm afraid I've got into the way of taking it too much for granted."

She gave a charming little deprecatory shrug.

Henrietta flushed: she felt herself warming unaccountably to Clare Hartill. She wondered why she had never before taken the trouble to draw her out.... She was evidently a woman of heart as well as brain. She felt vaguely that she must constantly have been unjust to her. But these sensations only whetted her eager curiosity. She pulled in her chair to the hearth.

"But what ideas, Miss Hartill? If you will tell me--I should be the last person to laugh. I have far too much respect for--I wish you would tell me what is worrying you. Does anything make you think it was not an accident?"

Clare was the picture of reluctance.

"Impressions--vague ideas--is it fair to formulate them? Even if Louise were unbalanced--but, of course, I did not see much of her out of cla.s.s.

I confess I thought her manner strained at times. But I teach. I have nothing to do with the supervision of the younger children."

"That is Miss Durand's business," remarked Henrietta crisply.

"Oh, but if she had noticed anything----" began Clare. Then, lamely, "Obviously she didn't----"

"It was her business to. She should have reported to me. Why, she coached Louise, didn't she?"

"Of course, if Louise had really overworked--badly----" reflected Clare, with the distressed air of one on whom unwelcome ideas are dawning. "One hears of cases--in Germany--but it's impossible!"

Henrietta looked genuinely shocked, but none the less she was excited.

"She failed in that exam.----" she adduced.

"Yes! Miss Durand coached her for that, you know. Poor Miss Durand! How she slaved over her! She was dreadfully disappointed," said Clare indulgently.

"Of course, she let her overdo herself!" cried Henrietta triumphantly.

"But you coached her too--didn't you notice either?"

"I coach the whole cla.s.s. You know how busy I am. I'm afraid I left Louise a good deal to Alwynne," said Clare regretfully.

"But she's supposed to be grown up--an a.s.set to the school, according to Miss Marsham," said Henrietta tartly. "But, I must say, if she couldn't see that the child was doing too much, she's not fit to teach----"

"Oh, my dear!" cried Clare, distressed. "You mustn't say such things.

You've no idea how conscientious Alwynne is. She may have worked Louise too hard--but with the best intentions. She would be heartbroken if you suggested it."

"Oh, you are always very lenient to Miss Durand," began Henrietta, with a touch of jealousy.

"Ah! She's so young! So full of the zeal of youth. Besides, I'm very fond of her." Clare's smile took Henrietta into her confidence--confessed to an amiable weakness.

Henrietta brooded.

"Oh, Miss Hartill, you talk of my common sense. I wish--I wish you could see Miss Durand from my point of view for a moment." She eyed Clare, attentive and plastic in her shadows, and took courage.

"This--appalling--probability----"

"Possibility----" Clare deprecated.

"Oh, but it seems terribly probable to me--only carries on my idea of Miss Durand. She is so ignorant--so inexperienced--so undisciplined--she cannot possibly have a good influence on young children----"

"She is my friend!" Clare reminded her, with gentle dignity.

"And if your suspicions are correct--if Louise's death were not accidental--if it had anything to do with her state of mind--if it were the effect of overwork--I consider--I must consider Miss Durand in some measure responsible. I feel that Miss Marsham should be told."

Clare shook her head. Her solemn, candid eyes abashed Henrietta.

"Miss Vigers--we are speaking in confidence. I should never forgive myself if anything I've said to you were repeated."

"Of course, of course!" Henrietta appeased her hastily. "But I've had my own suspicions--oh, for a long time, I a.s.sure you. I've not been blind.

And I might feel it my duty--on my account, you understand--after all Miss Marsham depends on me implicitly--to speak to her--for the sake of the school----"

Clare considered.

"That, of course--I can't prevent. But Miss Vigers--forgive me--but--don't let your sense of responsibility make you unfair. And for heaven's sake, don't let my vague uneasiness--it's really nothing more--affect your judgment. We may both be utterly mistaken. I am sure the result of the inquest will prove us mistaken after all--it will be found to have been an accident."

Henrietta closed her lips obstinately.

Clare rose in her place.

"It was an accident!" she cried pa.s.sionately. "In my heart I am sure. I wish I'd never said anything to you. I'd no right to be suspicious.

Think of what Miss Durand's feelings would be if she realised----" She flung out her hands appealingly. "Oh, we're two overwrought women, aren't we? Sitting in the dusk and scaring ourselves with bogies. It was an accident, Miss Vigers--a tragic accident! Make yourself think so!

Make me think so too!" Her beautiful eyes implored comfort.

Henrietta, quite touched, patted her awkwardly on the arm. She enjoyed her transient superiority.

"Of course, of course, we'll try to think so. Now you must go home. You are quite overwrought. It will be a trying day for us all to-morrow. I shall go to bed early too. Won't you go home now?"

Clare nodded, mute, grateful. She went to her peg, and took down her hat and jacket.

"Have you finished with Miss Durand? She was going home with me."

"Oh! Miss Durand!" Henrietta's tone grew crisper. "Yes, of course. I'll see if she has done. I'll send her to you. And you mustn't let yourself worry, Miss Hartill. Leave it all to me. These things are more my province. Good-night!" said Henrietta cordially.

She left the room.

Clare, pinning on her hat, stared critically at herself in the inadequate mirror.

"I think," she said confidentially, "we did that rather well."

She smiled. The cynical lips smiled back at her.

"You beast!" cried Clare, with sudden pa.s.sion. "You beast! You beast!"

She was still staring at herself when Alwynne came for her.