Sobbing on her bed, trembling from head to foot, in an agony of almost uncontrollable grief, she could not bring her proud and stubborn little heart to accept God’s only way of piece. No, she hoped she might be able to influence Susan Drummond and induce her to confess, and if Annie was not cleared in that way, if she really saved little Nan, she would doubtless be restored to much of her lost favour in the school.
Hester had never been a favourite at Lavender House; but now her great trouble caused all the girls to speak to her kindly and considerately, and as she lay on her bed she presently heard a gentle step on the floor of her room—a cool little hand was laid tenderly on her forehead, and opening her swollen eyes, she met Cecil’s loving gaze.
“There is no news yet, Hester,” said Cecil; “but Mrs Willis has just gone herself into Sefton, and will not lose an hour in getting further help. Mrs Willis looks quite haggard. Of course she is very anxious both about Annie and Nan.”
“Oh, Annie is safe enough,” murmured Hester, burying her head in the bedclothes.
“I don’t know; Annie is very impulsive, and very pretty; the gipsies may like to steal her too—of course she has gone straight to one of their encampments. Naturally Mrs Willis is most anxious.”
Hester pressed her hand to her throbbing head.
“We are all so sorry for you, dear,” said Cecil gently.
“Thank you—being sorry for one does not do a great deal of good, does it?”
“I thought sympathy always did good,” replied Cecil, looking puzzled.
“Thank you,” said Hester again. She lay quite still for several minutes with her eyes closed. Her face looked intensely unhappy. Cecil was not easily repelled, and she guessed only too surely that Hester’s proud heart was suffering much. She was puzzled, however, how to approach her, and had almost made up her mind to go away and beg of kind-hearted Miss Danesbury to see if she could come and do something, when through the open window there came the shrill sweet laughter and the eager, high-pitched tones of some of the youngest children in the school. A strange quiver passed over Hester’s face at the sound; she sat up in bed, and gasped out in a half-strangled voice—