"Star Lestrange? Rather! Why, the whole school is going on about it. But I don't believe she will do it."
"I know she will. I tell you there's great trouble, and it's all caused by that horrid Christian Mitford. For my part, I shall be glad if Star ceases to be a Penwernian; but she can do us much damage. There's a lot—a great lot—of mischief afoot, and we have got to be careful. You can't imagine how bitterly and cruelly Miss Peacock spoke to me. She even said that if anything else was found out I might not be allowed to come back to the school."
"Oh, Susy!" said Maud in a shocked voice, "she couldn't have said that. That would mean to ruin you for life. She couldn't have said it, Susy."
"She did, Maud; so you needn't wonder that I am troubled. I tell you what it is: you must and shall help me."
"I will if it is in my power, and if it isn't anything very wrong, for I'm tired of doing wrong. It makes you feel so uncomfortable and ashamed of yourself."
"This is putting wrong right, so I am sure you will help me. I know I have got a cold, and there isn't the most remote chance of my being allowed to go to church to-morrow. But you will go."
"We're allowed to go, just as we please, either to the chapel here or to the church at Tregellick," said Maud. "If the weather is as bad as it is at present you will have to go to the chapel, and I dare say I shall go with you. I have a bit of a cold myself."
"But you must help me; you must go to church at Tregellick, and you must manage to convey a letter from me to Florence Dixie or to the Manners' girls. You must do it, and no one else must find out."
"But can't you post it?"
"I dare not. Florence's father might find it and open it by chance; and then—then indeed the fat would be in the fire. And it would be equally dangerous to confide a letter to the post for the Manners' girls. Besides, the sooner they know the better."