It was Monday morning—the beginning of Blue Bonnet's fourth week at Miss North's school. Prayers were just over and Blue Bonnet had come up to her room to make her bed. She was drawing up the counterpane when there was a rap at the door and Mary Boyd entered.
"Oh, Blue Bonnet," she said, her eyes wide with excitement; "Carita's sick—real sick! Mrs. Goodwin just came to our room and took her to the Infirmary."
Blue Bonnet looked at Mary in amazement.
"Sick?" she repeated. "Sick? Why, she was all right yesterday."
Mary shook her head.
"No, she wasn't. She hasn't been well for several days; but she begged me so not to tell anybody that I didn't. I wish now I had. I'm awfully frightened about her. She's had headache for a week. Goodness knows what she's got! That's the way typhoid fever and a lot of things come. You ache all over—"
"Mary," Blue Bonnet said sternly, "it was very wrong of you not to tell me. I am responsible for Carita. If anything should happen to her here—" she paused; the thought was too dreadful to contemplate.
Blue Bonnet started out the door.
Mary caught, and held her tightly.
"Where are you going, Blue Bonnet?"