yes of the
whole school. Even for Nan's sake she could not, she would not be great
enough for this.

Sobbing on her bed, trembling from head to foot, in an agony of almost
uncontrollable grief, she could not bring her proud and stubborn little
heart to accept God's only way of peace. No, she hoped she might be able
to influence Susan Drummond and induce her to confess, and if Annie was
not cleared in that way, if she really saved little Nan, she would
doubtless be restored to much of her lost favor in the school.

Hester had never been a favorite at Lavender House; but now her great
trouble caused all the girls to speak to her kindly and considerately,
and as she lay on her bed she presently heard a gentle step on the floor
of her room--a cool little hand was laid tenderly on her forehead, and
opening her swollen eyes, she met Cecil's loving gaze.

"There is no news yet, Hester," said Cecil; "but Mrs. Willis has just
gone herself into Sefton, and will not lose an hour in getting further
help. Mrs. Willis looks quite haggard. Of course she is very anxious both
about Annie and Nan."

"Oh, Annie is safe enough," murmured Hester, burying her head in the
bed-clothes.

"I don't know; Annie is very impulsive and very pretty; the gypsies may
like to steal her too--of course she has gone straight to one of their
encampments. Naturally Mrs. Willis is most anxious."

Hester pressed her hand to her throbbing head.

"We are all so sorry for you, dear," said Cecil gently.

"Thank you--being sorry for one does not do a great deal of good, does
it?"

"I thought sympathy always did good," replied Cecil, looking puzzled.

"Thank you," said Hester again. She lay quite still for several minutes
with her eyes closed. Her face looked intensely unhappy. Cecil was not
easily repelled and she guessed only too surely that Hester's proud heart
was suffering much. She was puzzled, however, how to approach her, and
had almost made up her mind to go away and beg of kind-hearted Miss
Danesbury to see if she could come and do something, when through the
open window there came the shrill sweet laughter and the eager,
high-pitched tones of some of the youngest children in the school. A
strange quiver passed over Hester's face at the sound; she sat up in bed,
and gasped out in a half-strangled voice:

"Oh! I can't bear it--little Nan, little Nan! Cecil, I am very, very
unhappy."

"I know it, darling," said Cecil, and she put her arms round