"Well, there is only one thing to do now, of course you understand that, Joy. You must go to Miss North immediately."
Joy raised her head; her eyes wide with terror.
"Oh, no, not that! I can't do that. I can't! I can't!"
"You will," Annabel said sternly. "Stop that crying! Haven't you any nerve at all? You will go to Miss North at once! Immediately, do you understand? or I will. An innocent girl has suffered long enough."
Annabel had drawn herself up to her full height. Her cheeks blazed. She was a fair representative of her illustrious grandsire as she stood there, her fighting blood up.
"You understand? You go at once—this minute!"
Joy staggered to her feet. Annabel watched her as she started for the door; followed her as she crossed the building to her own room and paused.
Annabel paused too, but only for a second.
"Miss North is in her office at this hour," she said. "Go immediately"—and Joy went, her limbs almost refusing to bear her to the floor below.
What transpired in that office will never be known to any one save Miss North and Joy Cross. The gong had sounded for dinner before Joy emerged, white and silent, and neither she nor Miss North appeared at the evening meal.