Miss Martin, assistant to the house-mother, stood outside.
"I began to think you were not here, Miss Cross," she said. "May I come in?"
Joy opened the door.
"I was busy," she answered, dropping her eyes. "I came as quickly as I could."
Miss Martin was not long in making her business known.
"I am inspecting drawers, and I am late to-day. Things seem to have piled up so this week. Shall I begin with yours? It is quite unnecessary; they are always immaculate—but rules are rules."
She smiled pleasantly, and glancing through the drawers found them neat and orderly. She then turned to Blue Bonnet's bureau.
Under the usual pallor of Joy Cross's face a dull red mounted, dying out quickly, leaving it whiter than before.
"Miss Ashe is away, isn't she? Gone home for the week-end. She seems to be an unusually sweet, attractive girl—so unaffected and genuine. You must count yourself very lucky, Miss Cross—Why, what is this?"
She drew from its hiding-place the book that had been placed there only a moment before, and held it closer to the light.