absence."

Annie's face suddenly became as white as a sheet. Could the gypsy mother
have already betrayed them all?

Mrs. Willis, noticing her too evident confusion, continued in a voice
which, in spite of herself, became stern and severe.

"I shall expect the truth at any cost, my dear. Look at this
manuscript-book. Do you know anything of the handwriting?"

"Why, it is yours, of course, Dora," said Annie, who was now absolutely
bewildered.

"It is _not_ mine," began Dora, but Mrs. Willis held up her hand.

"Allow me to speak, Miss Russell. I can best explain matters. Annie,
during my absence some one has been guilty of a very base and wicked act.
One of the girls in this school has gone secretly to Dora Russell's desk
and taken away ten pages of an essay which she had called 'The River,'
and which she was preparing for the prize competition next month. Instead
of Dora's essay this that you now see was put in its place. Examine it,
my dear. Can you tell me anything about it?"

Annie took the manuscript-book and turned the leaves.

"Is it meant for a parody?" she asked, after a pause; "it sounds
ridiculous. No, Mrs. Willis, I know nothing whatever about it; some one
has imitated Dora's handwriting. I cannot imagine who is the culprit."

She threw the manuscript-book with a certain easy carelessness on the
table by her side, and glanced up with a twinkle of mirth in her eyes at
Dora.

"I suppose it is meant for a clever parody," she repeated; "at least it
is amusing."

Her manner displeased Mrs. Willis, and very nearly maddened poor Dora.

"We have not sent for you, Annie," said her teacher, "to ask you your
opinion of the parody, but to try and get you to throw light on the
subject. We must find out, and at once, who has been so wicked as to
deliberately injure another girl."

"But why have you sent for _me_?" asked Annie, drawing herself up, and
speaking with a little shade of haughtiness.

"Because," said Dora Russell, who could no longer contain her outraged
feelings, "because you alone can throw light on it--because you alone in
the school are base enough to do anything so mean--because you alone can
caricature."

"Oh, that is it," said Annie; "you suspect me, then. Do _you_ suspect me,
Mrs. Willis?"

"My dear--what can I say?"

"Nothing, if you do. In this school my word has long gone for nothing. I
am a naughty, headstrong, willful girl, but in this matter I am perfectly
innocent. I never sa