"Why, those two poor weans. It is lovely to be wanted," said Maureen.
"I thought you——" began Dominic.
"Don't say the words, Dom. For a short and most awful time there was a wicked Spirit in me, but he died at the bottom of the Peak of Desolation, and in his place there entered"—Maureen's eyes, lovely indeed now, were fixed on her companion—"the Angel of all Charity, of all Forgiveness, of Love, Love Divine. Don't let's talk any more, Dom. I'm sleepy."
She curled up close to her cousin-brother, and with her head on his shoulder dropped asleep.
How it so happened that things were not going on at all well in Felicity. Hitherto, Jane Faithful, by the aid of Miss Pinchin and some other choice teachers, had managed her little flock with, on the whole, marked success. But the Mostyns were different from any other girls who had ever come to Felicity. The Mostyns were hopelessly rebellious. The Mostyns, after the first couple of days, began to break rules and defy punishment. Miss Pinchin, clever and stern as she was, became almost afraid of the girl who had all but poisoned the horse, while Henrietta spent her entire nights in screaming, shrieking, and crying.
Daisy at last became dull and stupid, but Henrietta was decidedly reckless. She managed to get out of her small window and to sit on the extremely narrow ledge and dangle her feet in the air and shout to each girl who passed, "Hullo! who are you? I'm Henny-penny, and I'm in prison for nothing at all."
Then there came a day when Daisy refused to get up. She said it was not worth while. Her face had a terribly dull and vacant expression. Henny in despair pulled her out of bed, but she dropped in a dead, senseless lump on the floor. She had really fainted. Then Henny got out again on to the window ledge in her nightdress and, poised on this dangerous spot, shrieked the information to all who could hear that Daisy 'was kilt entirely,' and that Faithful had better send for a doctor or she would hang by the neck until she died.
This terrible information brought Dawson with Miss Pinchin, and last, but by no means least, Jane Faithful, on the scene. The girl, Daisy, was lying in a dead heap on the floor.
"I'd have put her back in bed," said Henny, "but she's too heavy. One of ye cruel ones catch her by the legs, and the other lift her round the shoulders. She's dead as sure as I'm alive. Nice sort of school this to send respectable girls to!"
"Oh, my dears, my dears," said poor Mrs. Faithful. She was in many ways a severe woman, but she had a truly kind heart. She bent over the white, unconscious girl and asked Miss Pinchin in a decidedly angry voice what she could have done to bring the girl to that pass.