"I want to speak to you by yourself," said Janet; "it is of great importance—the very greatest. Please talk to me before you say anything to Mrs. Freeman."
"Come to my private room," said Miss Delicia, taking Janet's hand in her own. "Come quickly before Patience sees us. Miss Patience is very curious; she will wonder what is up. Ah, here we are with the door shut; that is a comfort. Now, my dear, begin. Your manner quite frightens me."
"I have something most important to say. I am very glad—very, very glad—that it is to you, Miss Delicia, that I have got to say this thing. Your kindness is—is well known. Each girl in the school is well aware of the fact that you would not willingly hurt anyone."
"My dear, none of us would do that, I hope." Miss Delicia drew her little figure up. "We are Pickerings; my sister, Mrs. Freeman, is a Pickering by birth; and the Pickerings have been in the scholastic line from time immemorial. Those who guide the young ought always to be tolerant, always kind, always forbearing."
"Yes, yes," interrupted Janet, "I know that, of course, but some people are more forbearing than others. Mrs. Freeman, Miss Patience, and you are loved and respected by us all; but you are loved the most, for you are the kindest."
Miss Delicia's little face flushed all over.
"I am gratified, of course," she said, "but if this is the general feeling, I shall be most careful to keep the knowledge from my sisters Henrietta and Patience. Now, Janet, what is it you want to say to me?"
"I want to speak to you about Bridget O'Hara."
Miss Delicia felt the color receding from her cheeks.