"N--nothing's happened--you haven't done anything," Zara managed to say
at last.

"Surely nothing Miss Eleanor has said has hurt you, Zara? I'm certain
she'd feel terrible if she thought you were crying because of anything
she had done!"

Zara shook her head vehemently at that, but her sobs only seemed to come
harder than before.

Bessie was thoroughly puzzled. She knew that Zara, brought up in a
foreign country, did not always understand American ways. Sometimes,
when Bessie had first known her, little jesting remarks, which couldn't
have been taken amiss by any American girl, had reduced her to tears.
And Bessie thought it entirely possible that someone, either Miss
Eleanor, or her mother, or one of the Mercer servants, might have
offended Zara without in the least meaning to do so.

But Zara seemed determined to keep the cause of her woe to herself. Not
all of Bessie's pleading could make her answer the simplest questions.
Finally, seeming to feel a little better, she managed to speak more
coherently.

"Leave me alone for a little while, please, Bessie," she begged. "I'll
be all right then--really I will!"

So Bessie, reluctantly enough, had to go downstairs, since she
understood thoroughly that to keep on pressing Zara for an explanation
while she was in such a nervous state would do more harm than good.