“No,” said Sylvia, smiling. “And I like you both awfully. But do tell me about your school—do, please.”
“Well,” said Audrey, “there is a rather exciting thing to tell—something unpleasant, too. Perhaps you ought not to know.”
“Please—please tell me. I am quite dying to hear about it.”
Audrey then described the mysterious damage done to Sesame and Lilies.
“Miss Henderson was told,” she said, “and yesterday morning she spoke to the entire school. She is going to punish the person who did it very severely if she can find her; and if that person does not confess, I believe the whole school is to be put more or less into Coventry.”
“But how does she know that any of the girls did it?” was Sylvia’s answer. “There are servants in the house. Has she questioned them?”
“She has; but it so happens that the servants are quite placed above suspicion, for the book was whole at a certain hour the very first day we came to school, and that evening it was found in its mutilated condition. During all those hours it happened to be in the Fourth Form schoolroom.”
“Yes,” said Evelyn in a careless tone. “It is quite horrid for me, you know, for I am a Fourth Form girl. I ought not to be. I ought to be in the Sixth Form with Audrey. But there! those unpleasant mistresses have no penetration.”
“But why should you wish to be in a higher form than your acquirements warrant?” replied Sylvia. “Oh,” she added, with enthusiasm, “don’t I envy you both your luck! Should I not love to be at school in order to work hard!”
“By the way, Sylvia,” said Audrey suddenly, “how have you been educated?”