Blue Bonnet’s spirits rose; it was going to clear—everything would come out right, after all.
But when Friday came, Mademoiselle, though better, was still unable to come to her classes.
“Mind,” Debby warned Blue Bonnet at recess, “that you take your books home at noon. We often do on Fridays, so it won’t be noticed.”
Blue Bonnet, making a pretense at studying, looked up, questioningly. “Why?”
“We only have drawing and French Friday afternoons; and we sha’n’t be coming back to our room after French to-day. One doesn’t cut class and then walk back to her place like a good little girl.”
“I suppose not,” Blue Bonnet said. She must tell them, it wasn’t fair not to. “But I am not—going to cut class.”
It was Kitty who broke the short silence that followed. “Blue Bonnet Ashe, do you mean that?”
“Yes,” Blue Bonnet answered. She—would tell them why. She couldn’t bear to have them think her—not loyal.
“Maybe,” Kitty’s gray eyes were full of scorn. “Maybe you have taken French longer than we have, but you certainly do not seem to have learned the meaning of ‘esprit de corps’! Perhaps they don’t teach that sort of thing—out in Texas!”
Blue Bonnet drew back as if struck, her face white. She would never tell them her reason now! They could think what they liked. She would never speak to Kitty Clark again!