ody at Seaforth had been talking about when she stayed there in
June. She knew her home was at Watersham, and could tell me that she
was dark and pretty, for she had sat next to her at a concert, one
afternoon, on the pier. To make quite sure, I asked Aldred if she lived
at Watersham, and if she had been at Seaforth in June; so when she
answered 'Yes' to both questions, I was certain that Cousin Marion must
be right."

"Aldred was brave!"

"Yes, and she showed such particularly nice, delicate feeling
afterwards. It's a privilege to have such a girl at the school! Although
she mayn't want us to say anything about it, she can't help our
honouring her for it. I shall always feel quite different towards her
for the sake of this."

In the shelter of the book cupboard Aldred had overheard every word.
Mabel's account almost took her breath away. It was all a mistake. She
had certainly never been in a fire, or risen to any such pitch of
heroism. She remembered the circumstances, which had occurred just
before her visit to Seaforth, and she had been struck at the time with
the fact that the author of the deed bore the same surname as herself.
The latter's name was, however, spelt with a W instead of a U, and the
two families were not related, nor even acquainted. Aldred had not,
indeed, been aware that the Lawrences lived at Watersham.

[Illustration: ALDRED OVERHEARS A SURPRISING STORY]

So this was the explanation of Mabel's violent attachment! She had been
attracted, not by Aldred's real personality, but by qualities which she
believed her to possess. What would she think, when she learnt that
Aldred was not the girl she imagined? Suppose she were to drop the
friendship as suddenly as she had taken it up? She might possibly prefer
to have her bedroom to herself once more, and would feel no further
interest in one who had not done anything particularly worthy of
admiration. Aldred turned quite cold at the idea. If such a catastrophe
occurred, all her popularity in the school would be lost. She was shrewd
enough to realize that it depended entirely upon Mabel's goodwill, and
that her position really resembled that of a Court favourite. It would
be worse, far worse, to have to fall again into comparative obscurity
than if she had never been thus made much of. Her pride could not
tolerate the thought of being once more a nonentity in her class. To be
held in high repute by her companions was the salt of life to her.

She k