“You have no reason to. I will not interfere with you if you, on your part, leave those I love alone. Cicely and Merry are coming to the school because I am there, because my aunt recommends the school, because it is a good school. Leave off doing wrong, and join us, Maggie, in what is noble and high; but continue your present course at your peril. You would do anything for power; you go too far. You have influenced one or two girls adversely already. I am convinced that Mrs. Ward does not trust you. If you interfere with Cicely or Merry, Mrs. Ward will have good reason to dislike you, for I myself shall open her eyes.”
“You will be an informer, a tell-tale?”
“You can call me any names you like, Maggie; I shall simply do what I consider my duty.” 76
“Oh, but––I hate you!” said Maggie again.
“I am sorry you hate me, for it isn’t necessary; and if I saw you in the least like others I should do all in my power to help you. Now, will you give me your promise that you won’t interfere with Cicely and Merry?”
“But does this mean—does this mean,” said Maggie, who was almost choking with rage, “that I am to have nothing to do with the Cardews?”
“You are on no account to draw the Cardews into the circle of your friends, who are, I am thankful to say, limited. If you do, you know the consequences, and I am not the sort of girl to go back when I have firmly made up my mind on a certain point.”
Maggie suddenly clutched hold of her companion’s arm.
“I am miserable enough already,” she said, “and you make my life unendurable! You don’t know what it is to have a mother like mine, and to be starvingly poor.”
“I am very sorry you are poor, Maggie, and I am very sorry for you with regard to your mother, although I do not think you ought to speak unkindly of her. But your father was a very good man, and you might live up to his memory. I saw you and Merry together to-day. Beware how you try to influence her.”