“Yes, she has,” remarked Patience; “Jane has done a great deal more than any of the rest of you have the least idea of. And now, girls,” she added, “I am going to prove my words.”
As Patience finished speaking, she abruptly left the room. She was only gone a few minutes, and when she came back, she was holding the unwilling hand of poor terrified looking Jane Bush. Jane had said good-night to Harriet, and had gone away to her own room. It so happened that the chamber in which she reposed was nowhere near Harriet’s, which, as Patience remarked, was a good thing on the present occasion; and Harriet being certain that nothing could really happen further to damage her cause, had gone safely and comfortably to bed. Little did she guess that Jane, when in the very act of preparing for her own night’s rest, was forcibly conducted to be cross-questioned by five very determined school-mothers.
As soon as Patience got into the room, she quite calmly locked the door.
“Now,” she said, looking at the others, “we shall be quite undisturbed. Sit down, Jane,” she said; “you need not be frightened, you have only just to tell the truth, and we, between us, will look after you. There is no possible way of shirking the truth, Jane Bush; you may as well out with it, sooner or later. If you tell it without difficulty and at once, you will suffer less than if you struggled to keep it to yourself: you will be less miserable afterwards than you are now, for it is only to look at your face, Jane, to know that you are a thoroughly wretched girl. Well, here you are, quite outside Harriet’s influence for the time being, and here are we five of us, all full of suspicion with regard to you, and I think,” continued Patience, glancing at the rest of the girls,—“that we have got quite as much brains as you, Jane Bush; so five sets of brains against one set of brains must win the victory, mustn’t they? That’s common-sense, isn’t it, Jane? Now then; let us begin. Which amongst us girls will begin to question Jane first?”
“I don’t want any of you to talk to me; I have nothing to say at all: I want to go back to my bed,” said Jane, who was so terribly frightened that she forgot all that remorse which troubled her, her only present desire being to fly from the presence of the dreadful five girls who had entrapped her into their power.
“Come, come,” said Patience; “there’s no good in giving way: it will be all right if you only tell us the truth. Sit down in that chair and make yourself comfy. Now then, you poor little thing, we know quite well that you are the cat’s-paw, and that your poor little paw is dreadfully burnt. But never mind, Janie, you will be out of all this misery if you will take the advice of girls who at least have a shadow of honour in their disposition.”
At these words, Jane stopped crying, raised her head, and looked with her round black eyes full into the faces of all five. It was true what they had said: they were honourable and she, if left to herself, would much rather not walk in deceit’s crooked ways. She gave a sigh deep from her heart. A memory stole over her of the little children who were really all her world—little Miriam, little Bobbie, they thought their own Jane perfect; but if they could look into her heart, would even such tiny children trust her? She shivered, and sat very still.
“You had best do the questioning, Patience,” said Frederica; “you have taken this matter in hand, and you had best pull it through.”
“Very well,” said Patience; “then I will make short work of it. It is this way, Jane. You know quite well that Harriet wants to be elected school-mother to Ralph. She wants to live here and to have all the advantages of the home Mr Durrant means to offer to the girl who is elected to the post. You know that at least, don’t you?”
Jane nodded her head.