"Did you notice how vexed Mrs. Weatherbee looked when she came downstairs?" was Judith's remark as the door of her room closed behind them. "I'll bet she had her own troubles with the usurper."
"First the disturber, then the usurper. You have, indeed, many names for this one poor girl," giggled Adrienne.
"Oh, I can think of a lot more," grinned Judith. "But what's the use. She has departed bag and baggage. To quote your own self, 'It is sufficient.' Now go ahead, Jane, and spin your yarn."
"It's no yarn. It's sober truth. You understand. I'm speaking in strict confidence."
With this foreword, Jane acquainted the two girls with what had taken place in the matron's office.
"Hm!" sniffed Judith as Jane finished. "She's begun rather early in the year, hasn't she?"
"I see we're of the same mind, Judy," Jane said quietly.
"I, too, am of that same mind," broke in Adrienne. "I will say to you now most plainly that it was Marian Seaton who wrote the letter."
"Of course she wrote it," emphasized Judith fiercely. "It's the most outrageous thing I ever heard of. You ought to have told Mrs. Weatherbee, Jane. Why should you shield a girl who is trying to injure you?"
"I could only have said that I suspected her of writing the letter," Jane pointed out. "I have no proof that she wrote it. Besides, I didn't care to start my sophomore year that way. When I have anything to say about Marian Seaton, I'll say it to her. I'm going to steer clear of her if I can. If I can't, then she and I will have to come to an understanding one of these days. I'd rather ignore her, unless I find that I can't."