“Will you tell me the truth, Susan?” she said. But Susan did not answer; she only burst into a fit of hysterical sobbing, and after waiting a few moments in vain for it to subside, Miss Ashton added, “You had better go to your room now. I hope you will come soon to me, and tell me the whole truth.”
Susan rose slowly, lifting her swollen and discolored face up to Miss Ashton with an entreating look the kind principal found it hard to resist; but she did. She held the door open for Susan to pass out, and watched her go down the corridor with a troubled heart.
CHAPTER XXXV.
FAREWELL WORDS.
There was little difficulty when the time came in deciding the four essays to be chosen. Kate Underwood’s was in most respects the best, and would take the place usually filled by the valedictory. Dorothy Ottley’s was the next strongest, and by far the most thoughtful. To no one’s surprise as much as to her own, Gladys Philbrick’s was the most brilliant, and Edna Grant’s, the best scholar in English literature, the most scholarly.
So the important question was settled a week before commencement, and the young ladies were given their choice, either to read their pieces or to speak them.
Greatly to the surprise of the teachers they all chose to speak them, and the elocution teacher was at once put to drilling them for the occasion.
The choice was pleasantly accepted by the school. Every one of the four were favorites, and whatever disappointment the rejected essayists felt, they kept wisely to themselves.