"I tell you I did. I knew her face again the moment Linthorn brought her in. She came to church with them, and sat in their pew."
"I don't believe it," coldly exclaimed an exceedingly ugly girl, with a prominent mouth. "As if Miss Fenton would admit that class of people! Glynn is playing upon our credulity; just as she did, do you remember, about that affair of the prizes. We want some more bread-and-butter, Miss Dale—may we ring?"
"Yes, if you do want it," replied Miss Dale, turning her face from Mademoiselle to speak.
"Betsey, stop a moment, I have something to ask you!" suddenly called out one dressed in mourning, leaping over the form and darting after the maid, who had come in and was departing with the plate in her hand. A whispered colloquy ensued at the door, half in, half out of it; close to me, who was seated near it.
"I say, Betsey! Do you know who the new pupil is?"
"Not exactly, Miss. Mrs. Hemson brought her!"
"Mrs. Hemson! There! Glynn said so! Are you sure?"
"I am quite sure, Miss Thorpe. Mrs. Hemson has been here several times this last week or two; I knew it was about a new pupil. And when she brought her to-night, she gave me half a crown, and told me to be kind to her. A nice lady is Mrs. Hemson as ever I spoke to."
"I daresay she may be, for her station," spoke Miss Thorpe, going back to her seat with a stalk.
"I say, girls—I have been asking Betsey—come close." And they all huddled their heads together. "I thought I'd ask Betsey: she says she does come from the Hemsons. Did you ever know such a shame?"