“You are really sorry for me?” said Hester, raising her eyes to the head-mistress’s face.
“Of course, dear; need you ask?”
“Then you will have that wicked Annie Forest punished—well punished—well punished.”
“Sometimes, Hester,” said Mrs Willis very gravely, “God takes the punishment of our wrongdoings into His own hands. Annie came home with me. Had you seen her face as we drove together you would not have asked me to punish her.”
“Unjust, always unjust,” muttered Hester, but in so low a voice that Mrs Willis did not hear the words. “Please may I go to little Nan?” she said.
“Certainly, Hester—some tea shall be sent up to you presently.”
Miss Danesbury arranged to spend that night in Nan’s room. A sofa bed was brought in for her to lie on, for Mrs Willis had yielded to Hester’s almost feverish entreaties that she might not be banished from her little sister. Not a sound reached the room where Nan was lying—even the girls took off their shoes as they passed the door—not a whisper came to disturb the sick child. Little Nan slept most of the evening, only sometimes opening her eyes and looking up drowsily when Miss Danesbury changed the cold application to her head. At nine o’clock there came a low tap at the room door. Hester went to open it; one of her school-fellows stood without.
“The prayer-gong is not to be sounded to-night. Will you come to the chapel now? Mrs Willis sent me to ask.”
Hester shook her head.
“I cannot,” she whispered; “tell her I cannot come.”