Marjorie sat opposite her, and Ruth told her story. She told it exactly as it had happened, omitting none of the details, and making no effort to excuse her motive. She called herself names—she was a traitor, a thief, and a liar. She deserved no mercy; she wanted none. Marjorie could do whatever she wanted with her; but now she could die with a clear conscience.
Marjorie listened in amazement. The story seemed too dreadful to be true; and yet, the facts linked together and explained all her former doubts. Suddenly the realization of what she had missed came over her—the party at the cabin, the overnight hike, the play rehearsals, and all the good times; the fellowship with Miss Phillips, and Doris, and the rest of her friends, and the opportunity to be with John Hadley—four months of happiness that she had lost. She had been cheated out of her rights; she felt bitter; she could not forgive Ruth. She turned to her sharply.
But before she could utter a word, a knock sounded at the door. It was Miss Phillips.
“Come in,” said Marjorie, as naturally as she could. Ruth stood up as the teacher entered, but she could not bear to salute.
“I just wanted to see whether Lily is back yet,” said Miss Phillips.
“I am sorry; but she isn’t, Miss Phillips. But won’t you sit down?”
“Only for a minute. I wanted to tell Lily—and I’ll take this chance to tell you, Ruth—that the scouts decided to-day to give up next Saturday to doing a good turn for somebody else. So I have Miss Allen’s permission to invite the twenty-four little orphans from the Mynfield Home for an outing.”
“How lovely,” said Marjorie, absently.
“Poor children; they don’t have much pleasure in their lives,” continued Miss Phillips, not noticing the girls’ preoccupation. “So when Frances suggested giving them a party next Saturday, I jumped at the idea. It’s our last Saturday together—except for the one of the play—but the girls want to use it for their troop good turn.”
Miss Phillips stayed for a few minutes and told the girls more about the little orphans. And when she rose to go, they had almost forgotten, for the time, their own tragedy.