"I want the girls to p.r.o.nounce my sentence."

Mr. Benjamin smiled at his wife.

"I hope thy friends will temper justice with mercy, Isabelle," he remarked with the wrinkly smile threatening. "What is thy crime?"

"It's about my father," began the culprit.

"Yes, what about thy father?"

The girls eyed her hostilely, where she stood, by the fireplace, dominating the scene.

"I've always loved beautiful people so . . ." she began intensely.

"That is no sin," encouraged Mrs. Benjamin.

"I admire big, handsome men . . ."

One of the girls sniffed. This sound let loose the flow of Isabelle's histrionic remorse.

"Oh, you must listen to me," she cried, "you cannot condemn me until I have told it all."

"That is fair," said the calm voice of Mrs. Benjamin.

"It was always a disappointment to me that my father was so little and queer."

"But, Isabelle," interrupted Mrs. Benjamin, quickly.

"Please, I have to say what I think or it isn't a true story. Wally is much the nicest person in our family, but somehow he never seemed to count with anybody."

This daring focussed their attention. Mrs. Benjamin shook her head at her husband, who was about to interrupt this performance.

"I wanted a big kind of father, who bl.u.s.tered at you and made you feel respectful. I wanted him to have adventures, like Don Quixote, and make you thrilly all up and down your spine!"

"Didst thou want him to wear a sword and scabbard?" interrupted Mr.

Benjamin, who disapproved of these heroics. But Isabelle was warmed to her subject now, and she did not hear him.

"Imagine what it meant to me to want that kind of a father, and to get Wally! You all know how I felt. It was just what you felt last night when you saw him first," she accused them. "When I was a lonely little girl I used to make up stories about the kind of parent I wanted. The made-up one got all mixed up with the real one. So when Peggy asked me if my father was handsome, I didn't stop to think which one she meant, I just said yes because the make-believe one was awf'ly good looking."

"But you only have one father, Isabelle," Peggy defended herself.

"I know I really have only one, but don't you see, I didn't _mean_ to tell a lie, even if it did turn out to be one."

"What did thee tell, Isabelle?" inquired Mrs. Benjamin.

"I told Peggy that my father was handsome, meaning my make-believe one.

The girls asked me about him, and I told them a lot of stories about him. They were always asking me to tell more."

"They were all about rescuing beautiful girls, and catching burglars, and saving children. You ought to have heard what she told us about him!" exclaimed Agnes Pollock.

"Why, Isabelle!"

"But they were true! They did happen to the other one!"

"There isn't any other one!" retorted Peggy.

"Yes, there is. I believe in him, and so do you, every one of you!"

countered Isabelle. "He was just as real as Mr. Benjamin. You said so yourselves."

"But he's only made up."

"Oh, can't you see that the things you make up are lots realer than the things that are?" cried Isabelle with such conviction that they were all silenced.

"The matter comes to this, doesn't it? Isabelle, not intending to lie, misled all of ye about her father," said Mr. Benjamin, gravely.

"Yes, and we adored him so! When that little wizened man came in, we almost died!" blurted out Peggy.

The light broke upon the Benjamins, but they tried not to smile at each other.

"Isabelle's imagination can prove a gift or a curse," Mr. Benjamin continued. "Its possession lays a great obligation upon her. If it is used to mislead, or to obscure the truth, it is a dangerous power.

Whatever the extenuating circ.u.mstances, it comes to this, that Isabelle lied to her friends. Phoebe, what does thee think about this situation?"

"I think thee is right in saying that this is a very serious matter. I agree with Isabelle, that she should be punished, if only to remind her that such misuse of a talent is a very ugly thing."

"I have been punished by the way the girls have treated me! I am punished when Mr. Benjamin says I have told a lie! But I want you to do something to hurt me! I wish Mr. Benjamin would beat me, or put me on bread and water. I hate myself. I'm just a common, mean liar! Whatever you decide to do to me is all right, and I deserve it!"

As she denounced herself, she fairly glowed with indignation; she was radiant with humility. The girls were hypnotized by her!

"I think Isabelle should miss the recreation hour for a month," said Mr.

Benjamin.

The girls gasped, for this was the extreme penalty, but Isabelle never flinched.

"I will, Mr. Benjamin. I'll go to bed alone, in the dark, for a month and pray the Lord not to let me be a liar."

"I think thee must not rely too much upon divine power, Isabelle. Set a watch upon thy tongue thyself," he said--very severely for the gentle Adam. "Thee may go to bed now."

Condemned, abased, like a prisoner en route to the gallows, Isabelle walked from among them. She was disgraced, but, Isabelle-like, she wore her shame like a rose in her hair!

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Isabelle was not forced to abrogate her reign, after all. Somehow her cleverness and her oddity always kept the spotlight focussed upon her.

Needless to state Wally did not repeat his visit, and the spring term came to its end.

With its expiration came a letter from Mrs. Bryce asking whether the Benjamins would keep Isabelle at Hill Top until the end of August, as the Bryces were going to Europe and did not wish to take her with them.

It never occurred to Mrs. Bryce to consult the girl's pleasure in the matter, but Mrs. Benjamin carried the letter to her at once.