see them."

"Don't you think, Mrs. Willis," said Cecil, "that Annie made rather a
brave confession this morning?"

"I admit, my dear, that Annie spoke in somewhat of her old impulsive way;
she blamed herself, and did not try to screen her misdemeanors behind her
companions. In this one particular she reminded me of the old Annie who,
notwithstanding all her faults, I used to trust and love. But as to her
confession being very brave, my dear Cecil, you must remember that she
did not _confess_ until she was obliged; she knew, and so did all the
other girls, that I could have got the truth out of old Betty had they
chosen to keep their lips sealed. Then, my dear, consider what she did.
On the very night that I was away she violated the trust I had in
her--she bade me 'good-bye' with smiles and sweet glances, and then she
did this in my absence. No, Cecil, I fear poor Annie is not what we
thought her. She has done untold mischief during the half-year, and has
willfully lied and deceived me. I find, on comparing dates, that it was
on the very night of the girls' picnic that Dora's theme was changed.
There is no doubt whatever that Annie was the guilty person. I did my
best to believe in her, and to depend on Mr. Everard's judgment of her
character, but I confess I can do so no longer. Cecil, dear. I am not
surprised that you look pale and sad. No, we will not give up this poor
Annie: we will try to love her even through her sin. Ah! poor child, poor
child! how much I have prayed for her! She was to me as a child of my
own. Now, dear Cecil, I must ask you to leave me."

Cecil went slowly out of her governess' presence, and, wandering across
the wide stone hall, she entered the play-room. It happened to be a wet
night, and the room was full of girls, who hung together in groups and
whispered softly. There were no loud voices, and, except from the little
ones, there was no laughter. A great depression hung over the place, and
few could have recognized the happy girls of Lavender House in these sad
young faces. Cecil walked slowly into the room, and presently finding
Hester Thornton, she sat down by her side.

"I can't get Mrs. Willis to see it," she said very sadly.

"What?" asked Hester.

"Why, that we have got our old Annie back again; that she did take the
girls out to that picnic, and was as wild, and reckless, and naughty as
possible about it; and then, just like the old Annie I have always known,
the moment the fun