“Very true, still I can say nothing.”
“Will you let me see what I can do?”
“That would be the same as doing it myself, Mary, and then trying to sneak out of a mean act by putting it on your shoulders.”
“If you are willing to trust me, I will not tell anything definite. I will not mention your name, or tell what Miss Ainsworth has done. I shall merely make sure that she will be so warned and hedged in hereafter, that she will not dare to break the rules again. And this ought to be done, Elizabeth, both for her own sake and the sake of the college.”
“My dear infant, do you suppose for a moment that you could make the indefinite statement which you propose, to any member of the faculty, and not have a full explanation demanded at once of everything that has been done?”
“That would be true, usually, I know–”
“But–” Beth’s voice sounded a trifle impatient–“do you think you could manage the professors better than the rest of us?”
“Not all of them,” Mary returned serenely, “but I probably can Professor Newton, because, you see, she is my aunt.”
“What!” The amazement in her companions’ voices made Mary leap back and burst into laughter.
“It is true. She is Mother’s sister. I really do not know why I told no one at first. I took a notion that I didn’t want the girls to know, and Aunt Mary humored me. I am her namesake.”