“I feel quite sure of it,” returned her teacher with a smile.
“Why didn’t they tell me you were coming?” said Betsy, aggrieved. “I wouldn’t have gone out if I had known.”
“Maybe that is why they didn’t tell,” said Miss Jewett with a little twinkle in her eye.
Betsy did not know quite how to take this, so she said nothing.
“Did you find Elizabeth better?” said Miss Jewett, somewhat formally.
“Yes, she was much better,” Betsy answered. “She will be well enough to come to school tomorrow.”
Miss Jewett did not answer. She seemed to be thinking deeply. Presently she said, “Betsy, I wonder if you can throw any light on this matter of Elizabeth and the mouse. Did she really bring it to school with her? I know she is full of fun and likes to do unusual things, but I could scarce believe my ears when she told me that she put it in her desk herself.”
“Of course she didn’t bring it to school,”—Betsy spoke indignantly. “She saw it running across a desk and she jumped up and caught it so as to prevent a disturbance. She told me all about it this evening.”
“Why, Betsy, is that true? Then why in the world didn’t she tell me?”
“I don’t know; she said she was sort of rattled; and then, you won’t be mad, Miss Jewett, she was proud and didn’t see how you could suspect her of doing it.”