"And yet you never said anything about it?"
"No."
"Not to anybody? Not even to Enid?"
"No, not even to Enid. I wasn't certain, and if I had been I wouldn't have told."
"I've been wretched about it!" said Muriel. "I never intended you to get blamed, but I daren't confess it was mine."
"Who gave you the book?" asked Patty.
"Horace. He used it himself once, and those were his initials in it, H. P. for Horace Pearson; and of course everyone believed it meant Patty Hirst, because the two letters were interlaced, and could be read either way."
"I'm sorry it was Horace's. I thought better of him," groaned Patty.
"I'm afraid we're neither of us as conscientious as you," said Muriel. "I used to prepare my Latin with it. I don't know how I could be so silly as to leave it lying about."
"Perhaps it's as well you did," said Patty, gravely, "or it might never have been found out."