It was now Marian's turn to look triumphant.
"The whole trouble with Elsie is that I threatened to expose her for eavesdropping," she continued. "She has made me all this fuss simply to be even. She knows that she is responsible for this letter. The fact that she mentioned it to you, Mrs. Weatherbee, is proof enough, I should say. Certainly you have no proof that I had anything to do with it, beyond what she says. Her word counts for nothing."
A breathless silence followed Marian's bold turning of the tables. Elsie gave a sharp gasp of pure consternation.
"Oh, I didn't do it!" she stammered, casting an appealing glance about her. "I—hope—you—don't—believe——"
"Here is the proof that you didn't," broke in Jane Allen's resolute tones. She had resolved to come to the defense of the girl who had so sturdily defended Judith. From her blouse she had drawn Eleanor's letter and the carbon copy of the letter which Mrs. Weatherbee had received.
When the latter had finished examining both, she looked up and said in a dry, hard voice:
"This is the most dishonorable affair I have ever known to happen at Wellington. I shall certainly take it up with Miss Rutledge. There is now no room left for doubt regarding the authorship of this letter. It is undeniably your work, Miss Seaton. It remains yet to be discovered what part Miss Gilbert played in it."
Without further preliminary, the incensed matron read aloud Eleanor's letter.
Marian Seaton turned from red to pale as she listened. Maizie kept her eyes resolutely on the floor. This last bit of evidence was too overwhelming to be disputed. It could not be explained away.
"What have you to say to this?" demanded Mrs. Weatherbee of Marian.