“Lay them down,” said Maggie. “Do you think I could touch that coral? Oh, Rosalind,” she added, a sudden rush of intense feeling coming into her voice, “I pity you! I pity any girl who has so base a soul.”
Rosalind began to sob freely. “You don’t know how I was tempted,” she said. “I went through a dreadful time, and you were the cause—you know you were, Maggie. You raised the price of that coral so wickedly, you excited my feelings. I felt as if there was a fiend in me. You did not want the sealskin jacket, but you bid against me, and won it. Then I felt mad, and, whatever you had offered for the coral, I should have bidden higher. It was all your fault; it was you who got me into debt. I would not be in the awful, awful plight I am in to-night but for you, Maggie.”
“Hush!” said Maggie. The pupils of her eyes dilated curiously; she put her hand before them.
“The fruits of my bad half-hours,” she murmured under her breath. After a long pause, she said—
“There is some truth in your words, Rosalind; I did help you to get into this false position. I am sorry; and when I tell Miss Heath the whole circumstance—as I must to-morrow—you may be sure I shall not exonerate myself.”
“Oh, Maggie, Maggie, you won’t tell Miss Heath! If you do, I am certain to be expelled, and my mother—my mother will die; she is not over strong just now, and this will kill her. You cannot be so cruel as to kill my mother, Maggie Oliphant, particularly when you yourself got me into this.”
“I did not get you into this,” retorted Maggie. “I know I am not blameless in the matter; but could I imagine for a moment that any girl, any girl who belonged to this college, could debase herself to steal, and then throw the blame on another. Nancy Banister has told me, Rose, how cruelly you spoke to Priscilla—what agony your cruel words cost her. I did wrong I own, but no act of mine would have tempted another girl to do what you have done. Now, stop crying; I have not brought you here to discuss your wickedness with you. I shall tell the whole circumstance to Miss Heath in the morning. It is my plain duty to do so, and no words of yours can prevent me.”
With a stifled cry, Rosalind Merton again fell on her knees.
“Get up,” said Maggie, “get up at once, or I shall bring Miss Heath here now. Your crime, Rosalind, is known to Miss Day and to Miss Marsh. Even without consulting Miss Heath, I think I can take it upon me to say that you had better leave St. Benet’s by the first train in the morning.”
“Oh, yes—yes! that would be much the best thing to do.”