“You ought to be thankful they haven’t got to mourn for you,” laughed Betty. “I can’t see how you escaped being badly hurt. Well, I won’t mention any name then, Miss Mason; only in return you must promise me never to go out of our house by such a dangerous route again.”
“I won’t,” agreed the girl. “You see I didn’t know you or Mrs. Post, and I thought you might be awfully cross at my having stayed after ten.”
“But Esther knew us,” Betty protested. “She oughtn’t to have let you try such a thing in the dark and cold unless there was a real necessity for it.”
“She had nothing to say about it, Miss Wales,” explained Helena coldly. “I’ve often—I’m not a bit afraid of a fire-escape, and I just said so and went ahead. She had nothing to do with it at all.”
The Dig was awake and waiting for Betty. She listened eagerly to the scant news that was vouchsafed her, and pointedly did not inquire Helena’s name.
“She knows who it was,” Betty guessed shrewdly.
“Let’s not say anything about it,” she suggested aloud. “It might frighten the girls about trying the new fire-escapes, and it will make this particular girl seem very absurd.”
“All right,” agreed the Dig briskly. “But such things always do get out, Miss Wales. Other people must have seen her hanging there or heard her fall and then the talking afterward.”
Betty crept up to the fourth floor, and knocked very softly on Esther Bond’s door. Instantly the door was unlocked, and Esther demanded nervously what the matter was.
“Nothing at all,” Betty quieted her, “but I thought you might know that Helena got carried down too fast on her fire-escape, so I came to tell you that she’s all right, only bruised a little and her hands are cut.”