“Because—I want Susan to take it. She would do better than I.”
“Have you only just discovered that, Dreda?”
The question was put in a tone which Dreda had never heard before from Miss Drake’s lips—a tone so tender, so gentle and conciliatory, that it startled as much as the words themselves. Dreda stared, the colour paling on her cheeks, her hands clenched at the back of her chair. What did it mean? Susan had volunteered her services, and Miss Drake had deliberately rejected them in favour of herself, and now she said, she implied— The girl’s lips quivered as she spoke again:
“You chose me!”
“Why?” asked Miss Drake once more, in the same gentle voice. “Why, Dreda? Think a moment! Does it not occur to you, dear, that I might have chosen you, not because the work needed you, but because you needed the work? Your duties called for patience, and perseverance, and method, and punctuality, and neatness, and tact—all qualities which needed development in your case; while in Susan’s—”
“You would rather have had Susan! You didn’t really want me at all!”
The bitter disappointment in the girl’s voice went to the hearer’s heart. It was one of the hardest tasks which she had ever had to perform to answer truthfully, and so give another pang to the sensitive young heart. The colour rose on her cheeks and her brows twitched nervously, but she would not allow herself to prevaricate.
“Yes, Dreda, dear. For the sake of the work I should have preferred Susan, but I wanted to help you to get the better of your failings. I wanted it so much that I was prepared to undertake the extra work which your carelessness might involve, for the magazine could not be allowed to suffer. I am afraid it is painful to you, dear, to hear this, but if your vanity is wounded, you can comfort yourself with the remembrance that I was so much interested in you, so anxious for your improvement, that I rejected a most capable helper on your account.”
“Thank you!” sighed Dreda faintly. There was not a sign of irritation or resentment in her manner, and her thanks were evidently genuine. She might have posed as an image of humility and abasement as she stood with bowed head and downcast eyes before the desk. The swing of the pendulum had brought her into the valley of humiliation, and in characteristic fashion she felt a melancholy pleasure in playing her part as thoroughly as possible. “Thank you. You are very good. I am very grateful. We have to learn our lessons in life, I suppose, but it’s hard at the time. It’s been a great shock, but it’s good for me, I suppose. I can never be careless again. I’ve read in books about something happening and finishing the girl’s youth. I feel like that now! You meant me to learn, and I have learnt, so there’s no need to go on. You can have Susan, and no more bother—”
Miss Drake’s lips twitched in a smile which fortunately Dreda did not see.