“Merely to ask you one or two simple questions,” Madame replied. “But first, Professor, may we be permitted to see the picture which you are preparing for the Academy exhibition?”
Adelaide leaned forward eagerly. Professor Waite was about to be punished for his presumption and yet she was not so glad as she fancied that she would be. Her anger had faded out and she almost pitied him. A hot blush swept up to his forehead as he felt her gaze, and silently placed the painting upon the easel. Madame examined it critically through her lorgnette; it was evidently not what she had expected to see.
Milly, who had not known of the change, could hardly believe her eyes, and seemed to fancy that a miracle had been performed to save her dear professor. Miss Noakes stood at the canvas with a look of disappointed malignity on her unattractive features.
“Is this the only picture which you intend to exhibit?” Madame asked, after a moment, during which she had assured herself that the face on the canvas was utterly unlike any of her pupils.
“It is the only one that I have had time to paint this season,” Professor Waite replied. “The face bore at one time a resemblance to Miss Armstrong’s, but I purposely destroyed that resemblance and shall send it in as you see it.”
Madame seemed somewhat relieved, but she turned toward Adelaide, who had seated herself and was staring at the picture, her heart filled with a vague regret that she had written so unkind a letter.
“Young ladies,” said Madame solemnly, “you have heard the questions which I have asked Professor Waite. Certain accusations have been made which have greatly troubled me. It has been suspected that a clandestine flirtation and correspondence has for some time been carried on between your professor and one of the members of this school. Hitherto I have paid no attention to these reports, as they rested only on suspicion, but this morning startling evidence has been produced, and before bringing it forward I call upon any young lady who has been guilty of such an indiscretion to anticipate the discovery of her fault by a full confession.” No one responded. The accusation was so much more serious than the truth, that Adelaide did not imagine that she was the suspected culprit. Dead silence, in the midst of which Madame produced the fateful letter. Adelaide started and Madame asked in awful tones:
“Will any young lady present acknowledge that she has written this letter?”
Winnie and Adelaide each rose promptly.
Madame frowned. “Have we two claimants?” she asked.