Grace still held Marigold's wrist in her firm clasp. She laid her other hand on the child's shoulder, and surveyed her angry face with cool, kindly eyes.
"What are you in such a fierce passion about?" she inquired.
Marigold struggled for composure in vain. Her heart was beating wildly, and her trembling lips refused to answer a word. Grace saw she was unable to speak, and appealed to her companions. "Will one of you explain? What has gone wrong? Why have these two quarrelled?"
"It is entirely Muriel's fault," began one of the girls who had looked disapproval, but had not interfered hitherto; and she proceeded to repeat all that had been said on either side. Grace listened in silence, whilst Muriel still smiled scornfully. By this time Marigold was beginning to cool down sufficiently to realise what was going on, and was trying hard to keep from crying. She was conscious that Grace was speaking.
"It seems to me a great fuss has been made about a little matter," she was saying. "I cannot speak of how one feels about a mother from experience, because mine died when I was born—" Marigold looked up quickly at the speaker with sympathy in her eyes—"but it seems to me that if one's mother had been a servant, one would love her as much as if she had been the highest lady in the land. There is no disgrace in being a servant."
"But it is not true! Mother was not a servant!" Marigold broke in.
"No, I do not suppose she was; but if she had been you need not have felt shame on that account. I think you have excited yourself without sufficient cause. As for you, Muriel Wake, you know well enough your motives for putting a false construction on what you have been told. I do not think Miss Hardcastle would be very pleased, were she to hear of your behaviour."
Muriel evidently did not think so either, for she hastily packed away her books in her desk, and left the class-room. Grace drew Marigold down on a form by her side, and pointed out to her gently and considerately how foolish and wrong she had been to lose her temper. Marigold listened attentively to all the elder girl said.
"I was silly to tell Muriel about mother," Marigold acknowledged; "but she seemed so nice and friendly, I never guessed she would repeat everything to the other girls—not that I should have minded, if she had only told the truth!"
"Of course not! Another time I would find out more about a person before becoming confidential, if I were you. Muriel is a mischief-maker, but you could not know that."