"We only ask for justice. Is it just," with an inflexion of passion in her voice, "to shut up a young child in a cold, dark room, without food for hours, because she cannot do the task set her? This is Emmie's only fault, Miss Titheridge."
"Miss Marriott," returned Miss Titheridge, in the freezing tone she used to refractory pupils, "you are forgetting yourself. Fraulein is witness that you are forgetting yourself, and insulting your benefactress. No further words, I beg of you, except in apology for your intemperate speech. Fraulein has sent Emmie to her room, and there she must remain. Please to return to the duties you are at present neglecting," and Miss Titheridge closed her lips rigidly, as though with the determination to speak no more.
For a moment Queenie hesitated; a passionate impulse came in the young girl's heart, a longing to tell the women before her what she thought of them, to pour out some of the scorn she felt for their cruelty and littleness, and then, shaking off the dust from that hated place, take her little sister by the hand and go forth into the wide world to seek their fortunes.
Queenie's better judgment triumphed over these wild feelings; it would only be preparing new miseries and fresh privations for Emmie to take such a step; they must endure a little longer. She did not dare trust herself to speak, but silently left the room.
CHAPTER III.
CATHY.
"She loved me for the dangers I had passed,
And I loved her that she did pity them."
Shakespeare.
"Something unseen o'er all her form
Did nameless grace impart;
A secret charm, that won the way
At once into the heart."—Rev. John Logan.
Solitary confinement was a favorite mode of punishment at Granite Lodge; visits of condolence from sympathizing friends were sternly interdicted. Nevertheless, many small culprits had been much comforted by peppermint lozenges or acid drops, surreptitiously conveyed to them in small screws of whitey-brown paper lowered down to the window. Notes hidden in the centre of a large currant-bun had even been forwarded to the unhappy prisoner; indeed, to carry provisions to the incarcerated victim was one of the chief amusements in the school.
Poor little Emmie was not a general favorite, and no relief parties had as yet charged up the garret stairs; no odd-shaped parcels had been smuggled under black silk aprons, and passed on by sleight of hand under Miss Titheridge's very nose; nevertheless, comfort was close at hand.