“Yes, Miss Hammersly.”
“I have called you here upon a serious matter.”
“Yes.”
“Do you know the meaning of this afternoon’s exhibition of disloyalty and bad taste on the athletic field?”
Beth did not dodge the issue. “I understand, Miss Hammersly,” she said, “that some of the girls say I am dishonest. It has something to do with Mrs. Severn. What it means, I do not know.”
Beth’s lips were quivering, but she spoke bravely. Miss Hammersly stared straight at her for fully a minute. She saw the black eyes dim, lose their sparkle, and overflow with slow tears that found their courses, one by one, down the girl’s cheeks.
The principal of Rivercliff School was not given to sentiment—as a practice. But she suddenly came close to Beth and put both arms about her in a motherly way.
“My poor child!” she said. “You are much to be pitied, I believe. I know that you are maligned. You have no knowledge at all of what this exhibition against you on the part of your schoolmates means?”
“Not at all, Miss Hammersly.”
“We will see Mrs. Severn together and find out the facts,” declared the principal.