“Elizabeth,” she asked, “didn’t you understand yesterday afternoon that you were to remain after school?”
A shiver of something like apprehension ran through Blue Bonnet. “Please, Miss Rankin—” she began.
“Did you, or did you not, understand, Elizabeth?”
Blue Bonnet hated the hushed stillness of the room. “Yes, Miss Rankin,” she said, “I understood—but—”
“You may take your explanation to Mr. Hunt, Elizabeth.”
CHAPTER VIII
MR. HUNT
Mrs. Clyde, sitting at her sewing in her own room, started in surprise as the front door was slammed violently, followed by a quick rush of feet on the stairs.
That the commotion could only be caused by Elizabeth was probable, but what was she doing home from school at this hour?
Going to Blue Bonnet’s room to inquire, she found her tossing the things about in her upper drawer in a wild search for something.