This was something no one had counted upon. Amanda, her triumphant smile gone at last, quaked as she heard again the excited buzz of the girls about her.
Miss Walters’ voice rose over the murmur, clear and very grave.
“Miss Arbuckle thinks she has made a discovery,” she said. “She will be back in a moment, and until then I must ask that there be absolute silence in the room.”
Miss Sara Walters possessed that rare gift of authority that needed no raising of the voice or undue emphasis to command obedience.
Instantly the murmuring stopped and the girls waited in breathless silence for Miss Arbuckle’s return.
They did not have to wait long. A moment later the teacher reëntered the room, holding a book in her hand, the sight of which made Amanda’s craven heart sink in consternation.
The book looked like an exact copy of the one from which she had copied her “original” prize composition!
“Miss Walters,” said Miss Arbuckle in a voice which indignation made vibrant, “I am sorry to have to admit that one of the students of Three Towers Hall has been guilty of so disgraceful an act. But the composition that I have just read, the essay that was handed in as original by Amanda Peabody, has been copied word for word from this book.
“It is an old book that has been in my possession for years—was my father’s before it was mine—and doubtless the girl thought herself perfectly safe in copying from it. Here is the passage.” She had been marking a place with her finger, and now she opened the book at the place and handed it to Miss Walters to read.
What a hideous minute for Amanda! If she had been awaiting a death sentence she could hardly have felt more terrified.