“Jane, what were the girls saying about Clematis at the table?”
Jane hung her head. She did not like to repeat such awful things about Clematis, for she really liked her, though it was hard to teach her to work.
“Tell me, Jane. Miss Rose wants to know.”
“The girls were saying she stole something.”
“Stole something? Why, what did she steal, Jane?”
“I don’t know. I just heard them saying she had stolen something. She looked just as if she had.”
“Very well. Thank you, Jane.”
Jane went down to the school room, where all the girls were eager to know what Clematis had stolen. But Jane could tell them nothing.
“She just asked me what you said,” Jane declared.
“That’s just like Jane,” cried Sally. “She knows all the time, only she won’t tell.”