Meg did not answer.
"Will you not explain? I have come here to win your confidence. Why did you not return it before the order came for searching the boxes?"
A passing moment of temptation came to Meg to explain, to admit that certain reasons kept her silent, but she sternly repressed the impulse.
She repeated what she had said before—she had restored the jewel, was that not enough? She would say nothing more.
"Then," said Miss Reeves sternly, "I can give but one interpretation to your obstinate silence. You are guilty of an act which seems to me the meanest that ever occurred in my school. There remains but one course for me to take. I will write to your guardian. You must be removed at once. The disgrace of your presence must be removed from your comrades. You will join your schoolfellows at prayer-times only. Your meals will be brought up and served to you here. I must forbid you to address any of your schoolfellows; nor must you speak to any of your teachers except to make the small reparation of a full confession."
Miss Reeves turned and left the room with cold stateliness. Meg remained standing where she was till the prayer-bell rang. The fury of the night was over. Her mind seemed a void. She could think no more, scarcely could she suffer. When the bell ceased, she left the room. A few laggard girls were hurrying out of the dormitory. They passed her with averted faces and in silence; and they whispered with each other. There came upon Meg the first bitterness of the realization that she was an outcast from the community.
She entered the room where all were assembled, feeling dizzy. Then a sort of courage of indignation came upon her, for she was innocent. She looked in the direction of Elsie's place, eager to receive a glance that would repay her for all that she was bearing; but Elsie's eyes were carefully turned in another direction, and she appeared bent upon hiding behind another girl, as if to avoid seeing Meg. A pang of anguish shot through Meg's heart. Was that little hand lifted with the others against her? Was Elsie also thrusting her out as did all those who refused her fellowship in their lot? She felt so dazed that she remained for a moment standing, unaware of the general kneeling around her as Miss Reeves' voice was raised in prayer. Then her heart began to harden, and she looked toward Elsie no more.
When the girls were filing out she thought she would give Elsie another chance. The child must pass her in going out. Meg was conscious of her pet's approach, although she did not openly look her way. She felt if she watched Elsie and the child made an advance it would not be spontaneous. And yet, when there came no furtive touch on her hand, no whispered word as Elsie passed, Meg could not withhold from glancing toward her. Yes, Elsie had passed with eyes averted. That last link of sympathy which had given her hope gave way and broke.
Meg went up to her room, and the day passed. She sat with her chin buried in her hands looking heavily out. She felt stunned; she no longer protested or pondered over the future. At prayer-time that evening she did not look toward Elsie.
The next morning there was again a moment of forgetfulness when she awoke. Then again the horror gradually shaped itself, but this morning nature brought to her no reassurance. At the sound of the bell Meg rose with a heart like lead. She dressed herself and went down slowly. A mood of indignant bitterness had replaced the chilled misery of her bewildered heart. After prayers Miss Reeves informed her that she had received a letter from Mr. Fullbloom. He would fetch her away that afternoon. She must be prepared to leave then.