“Then hurry to Overton Hall and get it from her,” ordered Kathleen. “I’m going to send a telegram. Are you sure Miss Wharton hasn’t sent for Grace yet?”
“Yes, yes. She said she intended to send for Miss Harlowe to-morrow morning. Evidently she has a reason of her own for not sending for her to-day,” was Jean’s eager response. “But she is going to report us to President Morton and the Board within the next day or so.”
“Good-bye. I’ll be back directly.” Evelyn dashed out of the room and down the stairs on her errand.
Twenty minutes later she returned. “Here it is,” she handed it to the newspaper girl.
Kathleen had not taken off her hat since her arrival at Wayne Hall. “Come on, girls,” she said. “You must go home and have your luncheon. Just leave everything to me. I think I can promise Miss Wharton a surprise.”
“What did she say to you, Jean?” asked Evelyn as they left Kathleen at the corner, headed for the telegraph office, and went on to Harlowe House.
“What didn’t she say. She is going to send me away if she can. I told her everything, but it only made matters worse. I said over and over again that Miss Harlowe was not to blame, but she grew harder every minute. How I despise her.” Jean shuddered with disgust. “All this is merely an excuse to oust Miss Harlowe. Why she doesn’t like her, goodness knows. What is Miss West going to do, I wonder?”
“Telegraph Miss Wilder for one thing. Still, she can’t write or come here in time to save Miss Harlowe,” declared Evelyn. “Hilda knows about it. She said Miss Wharton dictated a perfectly horrid letter to Mrs. Gray, too, about Miss Harlowe this morning.”
“Oh, dear,” half sobbed Jean. “It’s dreadful, and it’s all my fault.”
Evelyn did not answer. She could not help feeling that Jean deserved this bitter moment.