"It was that horrid Alice Jallow giggling at her!" declared Mollie, who had come softly into the room. "I could—" she clenched her hands, and her dark eyes gleamed.
"Mollie," said Betty softly, and the threatened fit of anger passed over.
"She will come to in a moment," remarked Miss Greene, as she saw Amy's eyelids fluttering. "It was just a nervous strain. I have seen it happen before."
"Not with Amy," declared Grace, positively.
"No; but in other girls."
"I do hope Amy isn't going to be ill," said Betty. "We want her to come on the walk with us."
"I have heard of your little club," said the teacher, with a smile. "The idea is a very good one; I hope you have a pleasant time. I think it will do all of you good. I wish more of my girls would take up systematic walking. We would have better recitations, I think."
"Poor Amy!" murmured Grace. "I wonder what could have caused it?" and she looked down at her pale, little chum.
"It was because Alice laughed at her!" declared Mollie, half fiercely.
"I think not," spoke Betty, softly. "Amy has not been quite herself of late. She—"