g
on in corners.
In the evening, after prayers, the principal bade us stay; and, in a
grave, sad voice, summoned forth Mariana to answer charges to be made
against her.
Mariana came forward, and leaned against the chimney-piece. Eight of the
older girls came forward, and preferred against her charges, alas, too
well-founded, of calumny and falsehood.
My heart sank within me, as one after the other brought up their proofs,
and I saw they were too strong to be resisted. I could not bear the
thought of this second disgrace of my shining favorite. The first had
been whispered to me, though the girls did not like to talk about it. I
must confess, such is the charm of strength to softer natures, that
neither of these crises could deprive Mariana of hers in my eyes.
At first, she defended herself with self-possession and eloquence. But
when she found she could no more resist the truth, she suddenly threw
herself down, dashing her head, with all her force, against the iron
hearth, on which a fire was burning, and was taken up senseless.
The affright of those present was great. Now that they had perhaps
killed her, they reflected it would have been as well, if they had taken
warning from the former occasion, and approached very carefully a nature
so capable of any extreme. After awhile she revived, with a faint groan,
amid the sobs of her companions. I was on my knees by the bed, and held
her cold hand. One of those most aggrieved took it from me to beg her
pardon, and say it was impossible not to love her. She made no reply.
Neither that night, nor for several days, could a word be obtained from
her, nor would she touch food; but, when it was presented to her, or any
one drew near for any cause, she merely turned away her head, and gave
no sign. The teacher saw that some terrible nervous affection had fallen
upon her, that she grew more and more feverish. She knew not what to do.
Meanwhile a new revolution had taken place in the mind of the
passionate, but nobly-tempered child. All these months nothing but the
sense of injury had rankled in her heart. She had gone on in one mood,
doing what the demon prompted, without scruple and without fear.
But, at the moment of detection, the tide ebbed, and the bottom of her
soul lay revealed to her eye. How black, how stained and sad. Strange,
strange that she had not seen before the baseness and cruelty of
falsehood, the loveliness of truth. Now, amid the wreck, uprose th
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