"Is that so? I'm so glad!" exclaimed Jane, "for if she is capable at math she ought to pull through her other work. How strange I never heard anyone mention her talent?"
Sally shook her head and smiled. "She is so odd and defiant, but under it all I believe the girl is just a big-hearted, untamed creature. That is why, Miss Allen, I have kept as near to her as she would allow me to come. She is too honest even to affect changes."
"Capable at math?" Jane repeated, trying to believe it. "I am so glad, Sally. I can't tell you what it means to me that this student is not wholly—dull."
"I can guess," replied Sally simply, and Jane wondered then if she knew about the scholarship.
"Why did the girls abandon their plans for the ghost show?" asked
Jane suddenly. "I thought they were all so keen about it."
"Perhaps I am to blame," faltered Sally timidly. "But you see, Miss Allen—well, there was a complication there—and—" she stumbled piteously. Jane tried to rescue her.
"But it would only have been a lark, and the freshmen have had no
Barnstorm this season!"
"I know," said Sally helplessly, "but Shirley was so sick and—we have given the idea up."
Jane had to be content with that, but the veiled explanation only whetted her curiosity.
Few accidents were recorded in Wellington's history, and the mishap of Shirley ran its course in intense interest. Then presently the patient was again defending herself just as before, scorning even the humblest sympathy offered.