Realizing at last who stood near, Evelyn sat up and flung her arms round her sister. She was in a most agitated, hysterical condition, trembling and quivering with sobs. Meta soothed her as well as she could, and requested Vivian, who had followed to see that all was right, to switch on the bedroom light, and also the one in the passage.
"Someone must have intentionally turned it off," she said, "on purpose to play this trick."
"I know I'm silly!" choked Evelyn, more reassured now that the room was no longer in darkness, "but I can't help it. I really thought it was a ghost."
"Who is responsible for this?" asked Vivian indignantly.
"Honor Fitzgerald," replied Meta, without hesitation.
"Are you sure?"
"Whoever it was ran back into No. 8. Janie Henderson would never dream of doing such a thing, so it must have been Honor."
"She certainly was pretending to be a ghost upstairs," said Vivian. "I shall go and tell her my opinion of her," and she departed with a very grim expression on her face.
Janie and Honor were half-asleep when Vivian, like an avenging angel, entered No. 8.
"Look here, Honor Fitzgerald!" she began, "if you try any more of those senseless practical jokes, I shall report you to Miss Maitland. I'm monitress here, and I don't intend to have this kind of thing going on at St. Chad's."