ooked down the long room--her voice had reached every
corner, and the quiet, dignified, and deeply-pained expression in her
fine eyes was plainly visible to each girl in the school. Even the little
ones were startled and subdued by the tone of Mrs. Willis' voice, and one
or two of them suddenly burst into tears. Mrs. Willis paused for a full
moment, then she repeated her question.

"I insist upon knowing the exact truth, my dear children," she said
gently, but with great decision.

"My desk has also been tampered with," said Miss Temple, in a low voice.

Every one started when Cecil spoke, and even Annie Forest glanced at her
with a half-frightened and curious expression. Cecil's voice indeed was
so low, so shaken with doubt and pain, that her companions scarcely
recognized it.

"Come here, Miss Temple," said Mrs. Willis.

Cecil instantly left her desk and walked up the room.

"Your desk has also been tampered with, you say?" repeated the
head-mistress.

"Yes, madam."

"When did you discover this?"

"To-day, Mrs. Willis."

"You kept it to yourself?"

"Yes."

"Will you now repeat in the presence of the school, and in a loud enough
voice to be heard by all here, exactly what was done?"

"Pardon me," answered Cecil, and now her voice was a little less agitated
and broken, and she looked full into the face of her teacher, "I cannot
do that."

"You deliberately disobey me, Cecil?" said Mrs. Willis.

"Yes, madam."

Mrs. Willis' face flushed--she did not, however, look angry; she laid her
hand on Cecil's shoulder and looked full into her eyes.

"You are one of my best pupils, Cecil," she said tenderly. "At such a
moment as this, honor requires you to stand by your mistress. I must
insist on your telling me here and now exactly what has occurred."

Cecil's face grew whiter and whiter.

"I cannot tell you," she murmured; "it breaks my heart, but I cannot tell
you."

"You have defied me, Cecil," said Mrs. Willis in a tone of deep pain. "I
must, my dear, insist on your obedience, but not now. Miss Good, will you
take Miss Temple to the chapel? I will come to you, Cecil, in an hour's
time."

Cecil walked down the room crying silently. Her deep distress and her
very firm refusal to disclose what she knew had made a great impression
on her schoolfellows. They all felt troubled and uneasy, and Annie
Forest's face was very pale.

"This thing, this wicked, mischievous thing has gone deeper than I
feared,"