"You are not more bewildered than I am," said Star; "not more bewildered nor more disappointed. But as to telling you, there is no use, Louisa. I would if I thought it would make any difference, but it won't; she is past curing."
"No one is past curing," said Louisa. "I am extremely sorry for you, Star. I think you have taken up a wrong notion altogether."
Star said nothing. Philippa and Louisa a few minutes afterwards left the room, and the four girls who had considered themselves Christian's bodyguard were alone.
"Why shouldn't you tell us?" said Angela. "It is very odd to call us together like this, and to draw two of the Sixth Form girls into the matter, and then not to confide in us."
"If I told you, you could not live in the same school with her, so I won't tell you," said Star. "I will give her just a chance, although I will have nothing to do with her; but if she goes on with her bad ways I shall certainly tell Miss Peacock."
Meanwhile a pale girl was walking swiftly down the corridor. The white chamber where Christian slept was near Star's room. Angela Goring slept in the room next to Christian's; Star's room came next, and then Jane Price's. Christian entered her room now and shut the door. It felt cold and desolate. The fog had been followed by a cold night; there was a slight frost. Christian did not even trouble to turn on the electric light; she went straight across the icy-cold chamber and flung herself, dressed as she was, on the bed. There was a warm eider-down quilt on the bed, but she did not trouble to wrap herself in it. She lay still, and the cold pierced through her body, and the iron of adversity entered into her soul. She was too much stunned, too miserable, too frightened to care. She felt as though someone had tied her up in chains that she could never get rid of again; she could never extricate herself.
There come times when such trouble visits the human heart that it can scarcely realize what has befallen it. Such a time had come to-night to Christian. Susan had got her into her trap, and those girls whom she had believed to be her friends had turned against her. She had seen Star in the distance when the girls entered the refectory for supper, and the look on Star's face, as her bright eyes fixed themselves for one moment on Christian was one which the poor child could never forget. It was impossible for Christian to eat. She could not attend to her lessons; the headache which she had endured during the early part of the day was so bad that she was glad to ask Jessie's permission to retire earlier than usual.
As she lay on her bed she heard a sound, and looking up, she noticed that she had not fastened her door properly when she entered, and that it was now a little ajar. There was a rustle of dresses as the girls went by, and then she heard the well-known, beautiful voice of Angela Goring saying:
"I never should have thought it of her, and if anyone else except Star had told me, I should not have believed her."
"But Star, with all her wildness, never exaggerates," said Lucy Norris. "Dear, dear! who would have thought it?"