"The best thing to do is not to think it," said Erma. She laughed long and loud and merrily. "That is quite an idea. After this, I shall not think things. Perhaps my brain will never wear out. Doesn't the physiology say that every thought wears away some of the gray cellular tissue? Thank goodness, no one can blame me for destroying mine. I am sure I never thought any of mine away." As she spoke a new thought came to her. "No doubt, Helen found her pin weeks ago and you are having your tempest in a tea-pot all for nothing."
Berenice had not thought of that possibility. This was an argument, she was not equal to and was the means of causing her to say no more on the subject.
She knew from experience that she could not talk with some of the girls. They had a sense of loyalty and honor which restrained them from discussing anyone who came under the name of friend.
Berenice was unfortunate in her disposition. She was not by nature honest or sincere, and she could not conceive of another's being so. When Erma and Mellie had refused to listen to her suspicions, she attributed not to their high sense of honor, but rather that they were deceiving her and would discuss the question between themselves.
Every girl in the hall understood Berenice. They were careful of their words while in her presence and they never repeated a tale that she carried to them. Many a time had they taken her to task, but she never profited by the lessons. When the girls spoke to her plainly, she put the fault on them instead of upon herself. Gradually the girls let her go her own way, gave no credence to her words and kept a bridle on their tongues, when Berenice was within hearing.
Yet, a word dropped here and there, will spring up and bear seed even though every one about knows it to be but a poisonous weed. Berenice dropped these seeds in plenty. A word fell here and there, although the hearers repudiated it, it yet made an impression, before any one was conscious that it was so. No one could trace the source from which it sprung, but the impression was strong throughout the hall that Hester Alden had taken Helen's valuable pin and had hidden it away for months, then at the first opportunity when Helen was at Exeter, Hester had worn it home.
Hester, wholly unconscious that her action might be misjudged or that it should be judged at all, had left the pin at the cottage with Aunt Debby. She had put it away in her own tiny bedroom. A feeling of pride had restrained her from wearing it at school. The other girls wore pins which were not make-believes and Hester did not like the idea of the odd metal and cut glass.
"Aunt Debby told me it was just a cheap little pin," she said to herself as she placed it away. "I shall always keep it because it was my mother's, but I shall not wear it. I do not feel just right wearing something which pretends to be something else."
When Hester returned to school Monday morning, more than one pair of eyes looked eagerly for her coming. Erma and Mellie were hoping that she would come in with the pin boldly in evidence, and thus put to rout the rumors which had crept into the hall. Berenice, too, watched for Hester's coming with a wholly different motive.
"If Hester Alden comes in to class and wears the pin when Helen is present, then of course nothing can be said. I shall believe it then that Helen found the pin and allowed Hester to wear it. But if Hester comes back without it, I shall draw my own conclusions, and I shall feel justified in doing so."