"Well, did you take notice of Agnes Hosking as you said you would?" Ann asked Violet, later. "Was I not right in thinking her changed?"
"Quite right," Violet agreed; "she is looking very miserable, but it's nothing to do with us if she is—I'm certainly not going to trouble about her."
But Violet thought about Agnes a great deal during the next few days, and one afternoon she was surprised into speaking to her.
It happened thus. She was waiting for Ann, who was having her music lesson, when Agnes appeared in the class-room, where Violet was alone looking over one of her lessons for the next day, and took a chair exactly opposite to her at the table where she was seated. At first Violet did not look up from her book, but by-and-by she stole a furtive peep at her companion and saw that she had opened an exercise book over which she was poring, but not writing, though she held a pen in her hand. Violet turned her attention to her own work after that one momentary glance; but presently she looked at Agnes again, and this time her gaze became rivetted on the other's downcast face which struck her as a picture of misery, so full was it of unhappy thought; then, obeying a sudden impulse, born of curiosity, she asked:—
"Agnes, what is it? Are you in trouble?"
Agnes glanced up quickly, but she did not answer. Her eyes were full of tears, and one rolled down her cheek unheeded. Violet's face softened involuntarily, and she exclaimed:—
"Yes, I see you are! Can I help you? Oh, what is amiss?"
Still Agnes made no response; she simply covered her face with her hands and burst into a passion of sobs and tears. Violet watched her with a sensation of mingled astonishment and dismay till she had somewhat regained her composure, then continued:—
"I don't know the cause of your unhappiness, but I am really sorry—"
"Sorry?" interrupted Agnes, "do you mean it?" She uncovered her crimson, tear-stained countenance, and looked doubtfully at Violet. "Are you indeed really sorry?" she asked.