“Report at Miss Woodhull’s office at nine-thirty at night?”
Consternation fell upon the revellers. The hair had snapped and Damocles’ sword had certainly fallen.
CHAPTER XVI
A CRISIS
Fully as bewildered as the girls she had left behind her, Beverly went quickly to Miss Woodhull’s study. So far as she could recollect nothing could be scored against her deportment unless, at this late date her wild gallop to Kilton Hall had become known, or the presence of Athol and Archie at the Hallowe’en frolic had been discovered. True, she had recognized Athol and his companion as they were leaving the gymnasium that afternoon, but she did not believe that any one else had. As to any foreknowledge of that prank she had not had the slightest. So her conscience was quite clear on that score anyway. She tapped at the door and was bidden enter. Miss Woodhull’s expression as she looked at Beverly was most forbidding.
“Good-evening, Miss Woodhull. Miss Stetson said you wished to see me.”
Utterly ignoring the greeting, Miss Woodhull thrust toward Beverly the incriminating letter, at the same time demanding: “Who has had the audacity to send such a thing as this to you while you are a pupil in my school?”
Beverly started at sight of the lost love billet, Miss Woodhull noted the start and a sneer curved her set lips.