She stood for a minute or two, then walked slowly back to the window, out of which her schoolmistress leaned.
"I don't hear any sound whatever, Mrs. Freeman," she said, "but please don't be alarmed; Evelyn's train may have been late."
"Hark! Stop talking!" said Mrs. Freeman.
There was a sound, a commotion. Several steps were heard; eager voices were raised in expostulation and distress.
"Let me go," said the head mistress.
She stepped out of the open window, and walked rapidly across the wide gravel sweep.
Alice, Violet, and several more of the little girls were running and tumbling up the grassy slope. The moment they saw Mrs. Freeman they ran to her.
"Oh, come at once!" said Violet, "there has been an accident, and Evelyn is hurt. Bridget is with her. Come, come at once!"
The child's words were almost incoherent. Alice, who was not quite so excitable, began to pour out a queer story.
"I know we've all been awfully naughty, but we didn't think Caspar would mind the boughs. He turned sharp round and something happened to the wheels of the carriage—and—and—oh, Mrs. Freeman, do come. I think Evelyn must be dead, she's lying so still."