“Something startled me so that I twirled around in my seat, and my elbow knocked the ink over. I—I am very sorry.” Her lips felt stiff. Ethelwynne watching with miserable eyes saw her moisten them. They were drooping at the corners.
“It is my fault,” she burst out hurriedly, “it is all my fault. I made her jump. I startled her on purpose. I said mean things to her because I felt like saying them. I felt like saying them because I had flunked in Latin. And I flunked in Latin because I took a p-p-pill—oh, no, no! I mean, because I caught cold from staying out on the ice too long. And I stayed out long because I wanted to. And the reason why I caught cold from staying out too long was because my digestion was upset from eating fudge when the doctor told me not to. And I ate the fudge because I wanted it. And it is all my fault. It is all because I do things just because I want to do them and not because I ought to do them or ought not to do them. I ought to leave them undone, you know. And Prexie says that most miseries in life come from that attitude of I-do-it-because-I-want-to-do-it-and- I-don’t-do-it-because-I-don’t-want-to-do-it. And now Agnes won’t have thirty dollars to send home for Christmas. And it is all my——”
“Hush!” said Agnes, “hush, now, dear! That’ll be all right. It was my fault anyhow. I should have had better control of my nerves and learned not to let myself get startled.” She smiled reassuringly across the bowed head into Professor Stratton’s concerned eyes.
“I will see what I can do about holding back the manuscript till you reproduce the drawing,” said the older woman, “it is barely possible that I can manage it.”
As the door closed softly behind her, Ethelwynne lifted her tear-wet face.
“Agnes, do you think it was the pill that did it?”
“Did what? Everything?”
“Oh, no, no! Was it the pill that made me flunk in Latin?”
“I don’t know,” she answered doubtfully, “perhaps it helped.”
“I want to say it was the pill. I want to believe it was the pill. I want to, but I won’t, because it wasn’t—not really way down underneath truly, you know. It was my own selfish self.” She reached up both arms to draw Agnes closer in a repentant hug. “Wynnie’s sorry,” she said.