Cecil suddenly sprang to her feet.
“I never thought of all these things,” she said. “You are right, but it is very hard, and mine is only a suspicion. Oh, do be tender to her, and—forgive me—may I go away now?”
As she spoke, she pulled out the torn copy of Mrs Browning, laid it on her teacher’s lap, and ran swiftly out of the chapel.
Chapter Thirteen.
Talking Over The Mystery.
Annie Forest sitting in the midst of a group of eager admirers, was chatting volubly. Never had she been in higher spirits, never had her pretty face looked more bright and daring.
Cecil Temple, coming into the play-room, started when she saw her. Annie, however, instantly rose from the low hassock on which she had perched herself and, running up to Cecil, put her hand through her arm.
“We are all discussing the mystery, darling,” said she; “we have discussed it, and literally torn it to shreds, and yet never got at the kernel. We have guessed and guessed what your motive can be in concealing the truth from Mrs Willis, and we all unanimously vote that you are a dear old martyr, and that you have some admirable reason for keeping back the truth. You cannot think what an excitement we are in—even Susy Drummond has stayed awake to listen to our chatter. Now, Cecil, do come and sit here in this most inviting little armchair, and tell us what our dear head-mistress said to you in the chapel. It did seem so awful to send you to the chapel, poor dear Cecil.”