"It's no fun in the least without Linda," thought Sylvia, wandering round to the front of the house to see if she could catch a glimpse of her friend at the window. "She'll be so unhappy all alone! I wonder if——." And she ran back to the side door as quickly as she could, for a new idea had suddenly struck her.
"Mercy," she cried, meeting the monitress in the passage, "there's something I want to do if I dare. Do you think Miss Kaye would be very angry with me?"
"I can't tell you till I know what it is," said Mercy, smiling. "What do you wish to ask her?"
"Linda will be so miserable by herself this evening. Do you think Miss Kaye would let me stay with her? You see, it wasn't her fault half as much as the others', because she didn't really go with them."
"How do you know she didn't?" asked Mercy.
"Because she came back at once and said she had only been to the gate. She and I sat in the classroom talking till teatime."
"My dear child, if you knew this you ought to have told Miss Kaye about it before!"
"Ought I? I didn't dare. She looked so angry. I thought perhaps Linda had told her."
"I don't believe she did. At any rate I think we ought to make sure. If you like I'll go with you to Miss Kaye now; she's in her study."
"Oh, if you only would!" cried Sylvia, clasping Mercy in one of her affectionate hugs; "I shouldn't mind a scrap if you were there, but I'm frightened out of my wits to go alone."