"Oh, no," exclaimed Agatha, clasping her hands in distress. "Please
don't, dear Miss Wilson. I am so sorry. I beg your pardon."

"Since you will not do what I ask, I must go myself," said Miss Wilson
sternly. "Come with me to my study," she added to the two other
girls. "If you attempt to follow, Miss Wylie, I shall regard it as an
intrusion."

"But I will go away if you wish it. I didn't mean to diso--"

"I shall not trouble you now. Come, girls."

The three went out; and Miss Wylie, left behind in disgrace, made a
surpassing grimace at Miss Lindsay, who glanced back at her. When she
was alone, her vivacity subsided. She went slowly to the window, and
gazed disparagingly at the landscape. Once, when a sound of voices above
reached her, her eyes brightened, and her ready lip moved; but the
next silent moment she relapsed into moody indifference, which was not
relieved until her two companions, looking very serious, re-entered.

"Well," she said gaily, "has moral force been applied? Are you going to
the Recording Angel?"

"Hush, Agatha," said Miss Carpenter. "You ought to be ashamed of
yourself."

"No, but you ought, you goose. A nice row you have got me into!"

"It was your own fault. You tore my dress."