And when the letter was finished Olive, whose head was hot and aching, rested it for a moment on the desk upon her folded arms. When she lifted it, because of a noise nearby, Miss Katherine Winthrop was standing only a few feet away.
“I beg your pardon, I knocked at your door, Olive, but you must have failed to hear me and then I came inside, for I wanted to talk to you.”
The fact that Miss Katherine Winthrop in some remarkable fashion seemed always to know, almost before it happened, every event that transpired at Primrose Hall, with the causes that led to it, was well recognized by her pupils. So of course she now knew not only that Winifred Graham had been elected to the Junior Class presidency, but the particular reason why Jean had been defeated.
“I am sorry to have you see that I have been crying, Miss Winthrop,” Olive said, knowing that there was no use in trying to disguise the truth. “I know you think it very foolish and stupid of me.”
Miss Winthrop sat down in a big chair, beckoning the young girl to a stool near her feet. “Well, I suppose I do usually discourage tears,” she answered with a half smile; “at least, I know my girls think I am very unsympathetic about them. But I suppose now and then we women are just obliged to weep, being made that way. What I want to talk to you about is Jean’s defeat at the election this afternoon. You feel responsible for it, don’t you?”
Why be surprised at Miss Winthrop’s knowledge of her feelings, as apparently she knew everything? So Olive merely bowed her head.
“I want to ask you to tear up the letter which you have just written asking your friends to let you leave Primrose Hall because of what has happened.”
Miss Winthrop’s eyes had not apparently been turned for an instant toward the desk on which her letter lay, and even so she could not have seen inside a sealed envelope. Olive stared, almost gasped. “How could you know, Miss Winthrop?”
Miss Winthrop put her hand on Olive’s dark hair, so black that it seemed to have strange colors of its own in it. “I didn’t know about your letter, dear, I only guessed that after the experience you have passed through this afternoon, with what has gone before, you were almost sure to have written it. And I want to ask you to stay on at Primrose Hall.”
Olive shrank away, shaking her head quietly. “I have made up my mind,” she returned; “I have been thinking of it before and now I am quite determined.”