There was but one thing more to be done before winding-up summarily an affair that had been to her vexatious from the beginning. She had obtained plenty of evidence for the defense. Now she turned her attention to the prosecution. She had yet to hold a private word with Elsie Noble. This she resolved to do directly the freshman in question had returned to the Hall from her afternoon classes.
Elsie, on her part, had been looking forward to this very interview with a degree of sullen satisfaction. On the day following the scene in Mrs. Weatherbee's room, Marian had informed her cousin of all that had taken place. As a result, Elsie had flown into a tempestuous rage over having been dragged into the trouble by Marian.
"You've got to do as I say, Elsie. If you don't, you'll be sorry," Marian had coldly threatened. "Maiz and I will drop you. Besides, I'll tell Mrs. Weatherbee all about that register business. Then she'll believe you listened outside the dressing-room, no matter how much you may deny it."
"I'll do as I please," Elsie had furiously retorted, and flung herself out of Marian's room.
Not at all alarmed by her cousin's anger, Marian had confidently remarked to Maizie: "Elsie doesn't dare go back on us. She'll do as I tell her. She always fusses a lot, then gives in. She has no more time for those three prigs than we have."
For once she was mistaken. Elsie had changed, though she alone knew it. Her secret admiration for Norma had paved the way to better things. She now rebelled at the thought of facing this sweet, truthful-eyed girl with a lie on her own lips. Marian's threat to expose her fault had awakened her to a bitter knowledge of her cousin's unbounded malice. She experienced a belated revulsion of feeling toward Judith Stearns. Jane Allen's explanation of the gown incident, scornfully repeated to Elsie by Marian, now stood for truth in Elsie's mind.
Having gone thus far, Elsie next mentally weighed Marian's bolder accusation against Judith concerning the missing jewelry. Face to face with her cousin's utter lack of principle, for the first time it occurred to her to wonder whether Marian might not know better than anyone else the whereabouts of the missing pin and ring. She decided to do a little private investigating of her own.
When, at five o'clock on the fateful Monday afternoon, the maid brought her word that Mrs. Weatherbee wished to see her, she went downstairs to the matron's office, fully equipped for emergency. The recital which she indignantly poured into the latter's shocked ears was the climax to an eventful day for Mrs. Weatherbee.
It may be said to Elsie's credit that she did not spare herself or even attempt to palliate her own offenses. She made a frank confession of her faults and expressed an honest and sincere contrition for them which showed plainly that her feet were at last planted upon the solid ground of right. She was no longer the "ignoble Noble."
"After what I've told you, I know you won't allow me to live here at the Hall any more," she said huskily. "I deserve to be punished. I'm going to accept it, too, as bravely as I can. I've been doing wrong all year, but at last I've come to my senses. I know that for once I'm doing right and it comforts me a good deal."