"She will come in after tea," said Phebe--still no Bessie.

"She will be here at supper-time, sure enough," said Mrs. Colston.

Supper-time came, but no Bessie.

"She must be unwell, surely," thought Phebe; but Bessie's high voice overheard on Monday morning proved that to be quite a mistake.

All Monday pa.s.sed, but no Bessie came. On Tuesday morning Mrs. Colston sent her a message: "Why do you not come in? Have you forgotten what we are expecting?" To Phebe she said: "No doubt the superintendent was not present on Sunday, but at least she ought to have come in and told us so. I don't hold with girls being so thoughtless."

Bessie's answer was: "I'll come in this evening."

Poor Bessie! When she did come--and she made it as late as ever she could--she looked as if she had just made the acquaintance of the ducking-stool.

"I know you wanted to hear what that superintendent said, and that's just why I didn't want to come in," she blurted out.

"Poor old Bessie!" said Phebe, quite pained to see the change in her, "but don't fret about it, whatever it was."

"But I can't help it! It is a downright big shame."

"What dreadful thing did he say?"

"He's going to take the cla.s.s himself, but I can't stay any longer, mother will want me."

"Bessie," said Phebe, laying her hand firmly on her arm, "there is something else troubling you."

"The girls don't want a man to teach them--but I really must be going."

"Bessie," Phebe forced her into a chair, and stood over her, "you are to tell me right out what is troubling you. Surely there are to be no secrets between us! Tell me just what the superintendent said."

[Ill.u.s.tration: "'BESSIE, YOU ARE TO TELL ME RIGHT OUT WHAT IS TROUBLING YOU.'"]

"That he should take it himself"--putting her hands over her face to hide the tears.

"What else?"

"That you were not suitable."

"And what else? Why was I not suitable?"

But Bessie could not answer for crying.

"Tell me this"--and Phebe's voice was very strained--"was it because my husband had left me?"

Bessie looked up at her with her tear-stained face; words would not come, but a little nod told all that was needed.

The blow Phebe had feared so long had come. It was a fact, then, that her good name was tarnished. She went over to the fire, standing with her back to Bessie, to try to calm herself, to pray for strength to bear such a cruel blow. The sound of Bessie's sobbing was very painful to hear, but at last the girl roused herself, and coming and standing by Phebe she whispered, "I would have given anything to have kept it from you. You do believe me, don't you?"

"Of course I do. Do not fret, dear; all will come right"--her breath was caught--"in time."

"To think that I should have brought this on you."

"But you did not--it is better for me to know how--people regard me.

Now, go home, dear, and do what you have to do. I shall be feeling all right in the morning."

It was a comfort when Phebe reached her own room to be alone, save for the sleeping child--and the unseen angels.

And Bessie, too, was glad to be alone. She was thankful the whole affair had come out, having felt a.s.sured it was bound to do so, but her whole being was filled with indignation at the thought of the indignity her friend had been made to suffer. "If only I had never asked her till it was all settled it wouldn't have been so bad! What can I tell the girls?

_I_ shan't let out all the reason, but _he_ will, I dare say. Wish I could be upsides down with him, that I do! What a mess I do make of everything, to be sure. If mother knew she'd say it was just like me. I feel perfectly wretched. I wonder how I could pay that man out for his meanness!"

And then another bright idea struck Neighbour Bessie, and by the time she had worked her plan out she was fast asleep.

The next day, during the minutes she could s.n.a.t.c.h from work, twenty dainty little notes were written, addressed to the twenty girls who had signed the pet.i.tion. Each was supposed to be a private note, inviting the receiver to accompany Bessie next Sunday afternoon to some special meeting going on in the town, and to meet her at 2.45 by the market-pump.

Not being very flush with pocket-money--she never was--the notes could not be posted, but during the next three evenings were all delivered by hand. Twelve favourable replies were received, some of the girls expressing appreciation of this marked token of Bessie's favour, Bessie being really a very popular member; four declined on the plea of colds or previous engagements; and four were blanks, but Bessie found out, in some way or other, that these were away from home.

"That's just splendid," she said to herself, surveying the pile of a.s.sorted notepaper, "perfect."

"I say, Bess, are you going to give a party?" asked her brother, happening to catch sight of the notes.

"Yes."

"When?"

"I'll tell you when it's all over."

At 2.45 on Sunday afternoon twelve girls met round the market-pump, each greatly surprised to see all the others.

"I came here to meet Bessie Marchant," said one.

"And so did I," said another.

"And so did I," said they all; and then they all laughed, for they were a good-natured set of girls.

"We'll make her answer for this when she turns up," said some of them.

"What do you mean by this, Miss Bessie Marchant?" three or four called out all at once when at last she made her appearance puffing and blowing through hurrying.

"Dreadfully sorry, girls, to be so late; really couldn't help it. Mean?"

looking ever so solemnly sweet, "mean? You were all such dears I couldn't leave one of you out," and taking hold of the two girls she had the least confidence in marched off, all the others following.

She told the whole story the same evening to Nanna, alone. "You would have died of laughing if you'd seen the faces of those girls as they cuddled round that pump, that you would. Some were hanging on to the handle, they felt that took back like. But I got them all to the meeting."

"But what did you do it for?"

"That's just what they wanted to know, and not one guessed. I told them after they came out, though."

"Well, what was your reason?"

"To pay that man out, of course. He pretended he wanted the cla.s.s for himself, and I thought at least for one Sunday he shouldn't have that pleasure. It was splendid fun just to picture how he would look when he went into the room and found no one there. It did tickle the girls, I can tell you."