Dorothy tried to think it out. She had a way of putting her brain to work on important matters, and in this way she now went at the question seriously.
To be alone she left her room and slipped down to the chapel, which was deserted.
“I simply must think it out,” she told herself. “I must have some clear explanation to offer Mrs. Pangborn.”
Then she went over it all, from beginning to end.
Miette had suddenly become almost hysterical over the announcement made on initiation night. Then she tried to get back the note and found Nita had handed it over to Miss Bylow. This added to her anxiety. She declared she would have to leave Glenwood if the contents of the note became known. Then Dorothy learned that the charge against Miette was a mistake—that the note had been written before class time. But that was as far as Dorothy’s investigation went. Miette hinted that her friend was a working girl, but what could that matter? Dorothy had assured Miette that many of her own friends belonged to the working class.
So Dorothy pondered. The chapel was silent, and an atmosphere of devotion filled the pretty alcoved room.
“I will go directly to Mrs. Pangborn,” concluded Dorothy. “There is no use of my trying to think it out further.”
But Dorothy had not reached the office when Miette came upon her in the hall. She was excited and looking for Dorothy.
“Oh, do come to my room!” she begged. “I am in such trouble! I know of no one to go to but you,” and she took Dorothy’s hand in her own trembling palm, and drew her over to the room across the hall.
“I have had a letter,” began Miette, “from Marie—the girl the note was written to. And now I must tell you—for I do not know what to do myself.”