he color had come
back into her face, but her hand trembled as she put it up to brush a
stray lock of hair from her forehead.

She had not really meant to incriminate Blue Bonnet Ashe, but
circumstances were against her. It had all happened so quickly--she
hadn't had time to think clearly. There had been but one thought in her
mind; she, a Senior, could not afford to be found with a book of that
character in her possession. It might mean defeat after three years'
struggle--struggle to graduate with the highest honor. She had been
cheated out of so much in Miss North's school--_that_ should not escape
her, now! No, her record must go on, clear to the end.

She took a few steps round the room and then came back to the window.
She was frightened. Her heart beat like a trip hammer and her face was
hot, burning, as if with fever. She threw the window open and let the
cold air fan her face--her hot hands. What should she do? What _could_
she do, without bringing down upon herself the gravest consequences?

A Senior in Miss North's school stood for something--was supposed to
stand for _all_ that was honorable, above board. She was trusted, looked
up to--privileged. Anything that touched her honor touched the
school,--lowered the standard of the class. A Senior stood as an
example--a pattern for juniors and younger girls, and she ... well, she
had blundered--terribly! If it became known that she was the owner of
the book--that she had lied to Miss Martin--

Visions of her father--old, silent, unforgiving--passed before her
eyes; her mother--patient, long-suffering--who had made one sacrifice
after another to keep her in this school, far beyond her means. The
vision of those faces settled Joy's mind--made a coward of her. Her
disgrace should not touch them. She would not acknowledge the book,
no matter what came! Blue Bonnet Ashe could disclaim any knowledge
of it. She was innocent--could prove that she was. If she, herself,
kept still, the storm would soon blow over. No one could prove the
book was hers. No one had seen it in her possession. She could not
explain--now. She had incriminated herself by telling an untruth.
A lie, in the eyes of Miss North, was a serious offence, and in a
Senior--intolerable--unforgivable--a malicious, willful lie that
injured another....

The gong sounded for dinner. Joy hesitated. She hated to meet Miss
Martin, at whose table she sat. She thought she would not go to dinner.
On second though