"Oh, yes, Miss Ruthie," said the matron. "Miss Picolet is in. You can knock."
As Ruth asked this question and received its answer she saw Mary Cox come in alone at the hall door. The Fox had not spoken to Ruth since the accident on the ice. Now she cast no pleasant glance in Ruth's direction. Yet, seeing the younger girl approaching Miss Picolet's door, Mary smiled one of her very queerest smiles, nodded her head with secret satisfaction, and marched on upstairs to her own study.
"Enter!" said Miss Picolet's soft voice in answer to Ruth's timid rap on the panel of the door.
The girl entered and found the little French teacher sewing by the window. Miss Picolet looked up, saw who it was, and welcomed Ruth with a smile.
"I hope you have had a joyful day, Miss Ruth," she said. "Come to the radiator—you are cold."
"I am going to run upstairs in a moment, Mademoiselle," said Ruth, hesitatingly. "But I have a message for you."
"A message for me?" said the lady, in surprise.
"Yes, ma'am."
"From the Preceptress, Ruth?"
"No, Miss Picolet. It—it is a letter that has been given me to be handed to you—secretly."