Miss Nelson was again silent for a few minutes.
"Ermengarde," she said then, "this is not the time for me to say I am sorry for you. I have a duty to perform, and there are moments when duties must come first of all. Susan Collins's excitement, her almost unnatural desire to see you, have got to be accounted for. There is a cloud over Basil that must be explained away. There is a mystery about a little old miniature of mine: it was stolen by some one, and broken by some one. The story of that miniature somebody must tell. At the risk of your father's displeasure I took Maggie to visit Susy Collins the other night. You were away on a visit with your father, and I allowed Maggie to fetch you home. There is undoubtedly an adequate reason for this, but I must know it, for I have to explain matters to Mr. Wilton; therefore, Ermengarde, if you will not tell me fully and frankly and at once all that occurred between you and Susy yesterday, I will go myself and see the Collinses, and will learn the whole story from Susy's own lips."
"Oh, you will not," said Ermengarde, "You never could be so cruel!"
All her self-possession had deserted her. Her face was white, her voice trembled.
"I must go, Ermie. Wretched child, why don't you save yourself by telling me all you know at once?"
"I cannot, I cannot!"
Ermengarde turned her head away. Miss Nelson rose to leave the room.
"I am going to my room," she said; "I will wait there for half an hour. If at the end of half an hour you do not come to me, I must go to see the Collinses."
Ermengarde covered her face with her hands. Miss Nelson left the room.
"Ermie," said Marjorie in her gentlest voice.