“Bless you, dear!” replied Jasper, “and I think what I am doing for your father is well worth a shilling, so you had better give it to me.”
“I have not got it yet,” replied Sylvia. “You must live on trust, Jasper; but, oh, it is quite too funny!”
“Now, you sit down just there,” said Jasper, “and tell me what troubled you last night.”
Sylvia’s face changed utterly when Jasper spoke.
“It is about Eve,” she said. “She has done very wrong—very wrong indeed.” And then Sylvia related exactly what had occurred at school.
Jasper stood and listened with her arms akimbo; her face more than once underwent a curious expression.
“And so you blame my little Eve very much?” she said when Sylvia had ceased speaking.
“How can I help it? To get the whole school accused—to tell a lie to do it! Oh Jasper, how can I help myself?”
“You were brought up so differently,” said Jasper. “Maybe if I had had the rearing of you and the loving of you from your earliest days I might have thought with you; as it is, I think with Eve. I could not counsel her to tell. I cannot but admire her spirit when she did what she did.”
“Jasper! Jasper!” said Sylvia in a tone of horror, “you cannot—cannot mean what you are saying! Oh, please unsay those dreadful words! I was hoping—hoping—hoping that you might put things right. What is to be done? There is going to be a great fuss—a great commotion—a great trouble at Miss Henderson’s school. Evelyn can put it right by confessing; are you not going to urge her to confess?”