Grace’s eyes were immediately fixed on her in mute question.
“The news of the sale traveled to Miss Wharton, as I was afraid it would,” began Emma. “Miss Brent wasn’t here when first the dean heard of it. She had gone home with Miss Parker for Christmas. Evelyn Ward wasn’t here, either. She and Kathleen West and Mary Reynolds went to New York. Mary and Kathleen to work on the paper, and Evelyn to work for two weeks in that stock company of Mr. Forrest’s. You knew about that, of course. It was the day after Christmas that Miss Wharton heard about the sale. She sent for Miss Brent and was greatly displeased to find her gone. However, she had had permission from the registrar, a fact that Miss Wharton couldn’t overlook. Then Miss Wharton sent for me. She said the sale was a disgrace to Overton, and that she was amazed to think you allowed such a proceeding. I explained to her that you knew nothing of it, that you were away at the time it took place, and she said you had acted most unwisely in placing your responsibilities on the shoulders of others even for a day. Your place was at Harlowe House every day of the college year. You had no business to assume such a responsible position if you did not intend to live up to it.
“That’s about the extent of all she said. I was so angry I could scarcely control myself, but I managed to say quietly that President Morton and Miss Wilder had never questioned your absences from Harlowe House, and that I was sure you would lose no time in taking up the matter with her when you returned. Now you know what you may expect. I don’t know whether she has sent for Miss Brent since she came from New York. If she hasn’t, then mark my words, the summons will come to-morrow.”
Emma proved to be a true prophet. The nine o’clock mail next morning brought two letters written on the stationery used by the Overton faculty. One was addressed to Grace, the other to Jean Brent. If the two young women had compared them they would have discovered that each one contained the same curt summons to the dean’s office. Both appointments were for half-past four o’clock that afternoon.
Grace stopped at Jean’s table at luncheon that day and said softly. “Will you come to my office after you have finished your luncheon, Miss Brent?”
Jean turned very pale. She bowed her acquiescence, and Grace went on to her own place.
“I have been requested to call on Miss Wharton at half-past four o’clock this afternoon, Miss Brent,” informed Grace as, later, Jean stood before her. “I noted that you also received a letter written on the business stationery of Overton. Am I right in guessing that you have received the same summons?”
For answer Jean opened the book she held under her arm and took from it an envelope. In silence she drew from it a letter, spread it open and handed it to Grace.
“Just as I thought.” Grace returned the letter. “Miss Wharton has learned of your sale, Miss Brent. She is very indignant. Are you prepared to tell her what you confided to me?” Grace eyed the girl squarely.
“Why should I, Miss Harlowe?” burst forth Jean. “No; I will tell Miss Wharton nothing.”