Apparently, Marjorie read her thought. “Miss Farnham,” she broke in, her soft voice ringing with purpose, “if you do not answer Miss Archer truthfully, I, at least, will.”
That settled it. Nevertheless, Rowena determined that Marjorie should pay for her interference. “If you must know,” she said sullenly, “I did glance over them. You had no business to leave them on the desk. Miss Dean saw me do it, too, but she didn’t seem to mind. I even showed her that problem in quadratics and told her I couldn’t do it. So she did it for me.”
“Is this true?” To the distressed listener Miss Archer’s amazed question came as a faint and far-off sound. Driven into a corner by Rowena’s spiteful misrepresentation, Marjorie determined to clear herself of the opprobrium. “I saw Miss Farnham with the papers,” she affirmed. “She pointed out to me the one she couldn’t do and I solved it for her. I thought——”
“That will do.” Never to Marjorie’s recollection had Miss Archer’s voice carried with it such unmeasured severity. For once she was too thoroughly displeased to be just. Only that morning Marjorie had earnestly proclaimed her innocence. Brought face to face with Rowena, she had renigged, or so it now seemed to the affronted principal. Abhoring deceit and untruthfulness, she rashly ticketed her hitherto favorite pupil with both faults.
“But Miss Archer,” pleaded Marjorie desperately, “won’t you allow me to——”
“It strikes me that too much has already been said that might better have been left unsaid,” cut in the principal coldly. “You two young women are guilty of a most despicable bit of work. If it lay within my power I would expel both of you from the school you have disgraced. This matter will be taken up by the Board of Education. All I can do is to send you both home, there to await the decision of those above me. Your parents shall be informed at once of what has taken place. As for you, Miss Farnham, in case the Board decides to give you another chance you will be obliged to take an entirely new set of examinations. In a measure I hold myself responsible for this. I should have locked my desk. I have always trusted my pupils. Dishonesty on the part of two of them is a severe blow. You may both leave the school at once. You, Miss Dean, need not return to the study hall.”
Rowena Farnham received her dismissal with an elaborate shrug that plainly indicated how little she cared. Without deigning a reply she strolled out of the office, apparently as self-possessed as when she had entered. Marjorie, however, remained rooted to the bench on which she sat. She could not believe the evidence of her own ears. Neither could she credit the principal’s sudden unjust stand.
“Miss Archer,” she faltered, “won’t you——”
“The subject is closed, Miss Dean. Kindly leave my office.” Miss Archer refused to meet the two pleading eyes that persistently sought hers. This self-revelation of the girl’s guilt had dealt her a hurt which she could not soon forget. To uncover treachery and dishonesty in a friend is an experience which carries with it its own bitterness. The very fact that it is unexpected makes it infinitely harder to bear. Miss Archer’s disappointment in Marjorie was so great as to obscure her usually clear insight into matters. She had trusted her so implicitly. She felt as though she could not endure her presence in the office. Now she kept her gaze resolutely fixed on her desk, nor did she alter it until the echo of the misjudged lieutenant’s light footfalls had entirely died away.