er, Cecil, are now, I firmly believe, directed by
God; they are also the result of a large experience. I have trained many
girls. I have watched the phases of thought in many young minds. Cecil,
look at me. I can read you like a book."
Cecil looked up expectantly.
"Your motive for this concealment is as clear as the daylight, Cecil. You
are keeping back what you know because you want to shield some one. Am I
not right, my dear?"
The color flooded Cecil's pale face. She bent her head in silent assent,
but her eyes were too full of tears, and her lips trembled too much to
allow her to speak.
"The girl you want to defend," continued Mrs. Willis, in that clear,
patient voice of hers, "is one whom you and I both love--is one for whom
we both have prayed--is one for whom we would both gladly sacrifice
ourselves if necessary. Her name is----"
"Oh, don't," said Cecil imploringly--"don't say her name; you have no
right to suspect her."
"I must say her name, Cecil, dear. If you suspect Annie Forest, why
should not I? You do suspect her, do you not, Cecil?"
Cecil began to cry.
"I know it," continued Mrs. Willis. "Now, Cecil, we will suppose,
terrible as this suspicion is, fearfully as it pains us both, that Annie
Forest _is_ guilty. We must suppose for the sake of my argument that this
is the case. Do you not know, my dear Cecil, that you are doing the
falsest, cruelest thing by dear Annie in trying to hide her sin from me?
Suppose, just for the sake of our argument, that this cowardly conduct on
Annie's part was never found out by me; what effect would it have on
Annie herself?"
"It would save her in the eyes of the school," said Cecil.
"Just so; but God would know the truth. Her next downfall would be
deeper. In short, Cecil, under the idea of friendship you would have done
the cruelest thing in all the world for your friend."
Cecil was quite silent.
"This is one way to look at it," continued Mrs. Willis; "but there are
many other points from which this case ought to be viewed. You owe much
to Annie, but not all--you have a duty to perform to your other
schoolfellows. You have a duty to perform to me. If you possess a clue
which will enable me to convict Annie Forest of her sin, in common
justice you have no right to withhold it. Remember, that while she goes
about free and unsuspected, some other girl is under the ban--some other
girl is watched and feared. You fail in your duty to your schoolfellows
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