"I'm afraid that won't quite do," I said. "It would be too difficult for Mabel to explain at home without telling on you. You'd much better tell on yourself."
"I can't," said Alice, "I'm as sorry as I can be, now, that I did it—but I can't face Miss Vinton."
She looked ready to cry.
"Well, I shall have to confess too," I said. "It was partly my fault. Let us go together."
"I daren't," said Alice.
But I could see she was yielding.
"Come along," I said, taking her arm. "It's the only way out. You know you won't keep Mabel's prize, and it's as bad to keep her honour and glory. This is the only way out. Let's get it over."
She came then, but reluctantly.
Fortunately we found Miss Vinton alone in her room, and between us we managed to stammer out our confession.
Miss Vinton, I think, was not surprised. She had feared there was something not quite straight. But she was extremely severe with us both, as much with me as with Alice, and as it was to be my last interview with her I was heart-broken.