moment, then turned to the class
again.

"Was any other girl in this room at St. Peter's this afternoon?" she
asked. "I appeal to your honour."

Nobody answered. Hope and Blanche sat still, with eyes that dared not
raise themselves to meet those of the mistress.

"Very well; I am glad to find no others have broken the rule. For the
rest of the term the six girls who so forgot themselves will not be
allowed in the gymnasium between one and half-past two. If it is too wet
to go into the playground, they must stay in the classrooms. Any of the
six who enters the gymnasium during the prohibited time must report
herself to me at once in the library. Thank you, Miss Carter. I am sorry
to have been obliged to disturb your lesson, though more sorry still for
the cause of the interruption."

Dorothy took in very little of the remainder of the hygiene lesson. She
was in a ferment of indignation. Miss Tempest had doubted her word
before all the Form, and that rankled more than the scolding. Her
contempt for Hope and Blanche was supreme, but she was angry, all the
same, at their meanness. She was far too proud to cry like Addie Parker,
whose eyes were already red and swollen, and whose cheeks were blotched
with tears. She sat, a sullen, defiant little figure, nursing her wrath
and full of a burning sense of injustice.

Fortunately, the rest of the afternoon was devoted to drawing, and she
was able to give a mechanical attention to her copy, which made her work
just pass muster.

"Not so good as usual to-day, Dorothy," said the art mistress at the
close of the class. "I can only give you 'Fair'. I don't think you have
tried your best."

Dorothy shut her pencil box with a slam. She was in a thoroughly bad
temper, and felt that she did not much care what happened. Miss Giles
gave her a warning look, as if she were disposed to tell her to lose an
order mark; but seeing perhaps that the girl was overwrought and unlike
herself, she took no further notice, and passed on to the next drawing
board.

As Dorothy left the studio, Hope Lawson managed to edge close up to her,
and whispered in her ear: "Remember your promise! You said you wouldn't
tell a soul--not even one of the girls."

"You don't deserve it," mumbled Dorothy.

"But you promised on your honour--if you have any honour. Perhaps you
haven't."

"I've more than you," retorted Dorothy. "You and Blanche are a couple of
sneaks. There! you needn't look so aghast. I'm not