The Manor School

by L. T. Meade

Christian was asleep. She was lying on her back. Her arms were flung outside the bedclothes; the heavy, dark lashes swept her pale cheeks; her fair hair was pushed back from her broad forehead. She looked wonderfully sweet and wonderfully intellectual. Star noticed this first of all; then she saw the real, the latent nobility in the face. Whatever its faults, deceit—real deceit—could have nothing to do with it.

Star felt her heart beat. She would not wake the sick girl. She must wait quietly until Christian opened her eyes. Star sank down on the chair by the fire. The little saucepan stood on the hob. Now and then Star bent forward and stirred the chicken broth which Miss Jessie was making. What was she to do? What was she to believe?

Star had never come face to face with any really complicated case of wrong-doing. She had been attracted to Christian from the first; then she had been repelled by her; then she had been very much puzzled by her extraordinary allegiance to Susan Marsh and her set. When she saw the grocery bill in Christian's history-book she had been astonished, but scarcely inclined to blame Christian very severely. Christian did not know, she had argued, and Susan was clever and full of resources, and was absolutely sure to force the girls who were under her power to carry out her will. Yes, Star was terribly vexed, but she scarcely blamed Christian for this. She almost took Christian's part when she went up to the front attic and spoke about what she had discovered. But when on the following evening she went to the bowling-alley, and opening her purse, found that the little tell-tale bill had been removed, and when she further remembered that the purse had been in Christian's possession for over an hour, her lingering liking for the girl vanished on the spot.

"Her looks belie her," she thought. "She is bad, deceitful, unworthy of any good girl's affection. I'll give her up."

So angry was she that she had acted on impulse. She had sent for her chosen friends and for two of the most important girls in the school, and had told them that she had given Christian up. She had further said that she wished to resign her post on the committee of the secret society of the Penwernians. She had spoken with great heat and bitterness.

Then came the news of Christian's illness, and Star's interview with Miss Peacock. During that interview it seemed to the girl that she was once more forced to change her point of view. There were even yet possibilities that Christian might be innocent. Beyond doubt she was suffering. The very worst characters don't suffer when they commit sin. Christian was suffering so badly that the doctor was anxious about her. He said she was suffering from a shock. Now, what had shocked her? If her character was all that Star had imagined it to be two days ago, why should the shock of what she had done make her ill? Star determined now at any cost to keep Christian's secret.

"I don't understand things," thought the child, "but if there is a way out I will try to find it; and if there is any sort of doubt I will give Christian the benefit of it."

As she thought this she glanced again toward the bed; then she gave a start and stood up, for Christian's eyes were wide open and were fixed on her face.

Now Christian's young face was very pale. She did not look at all surprised at seeing Star. Star went up to her.

"How are you, Christian?" she said in a low voice. "Are you better?"