This might be explained, she reflected, by the fact that they suspected
the mails would be watched; but this supposition attributed some truth
to the accusation that Gran'pa Jim was a fugitive from justice, which
she would not allow for an instant. Had he not told her to have faith in
him, whatever happened? Should she prove disloyal just because a brutal
officer and an irresponsible newspaper editor had branded her dear
grandfather a criminal?

No! Whatever happened she would cling to her faith in the goodness of
dear Gran'pa Jim.

There was very little money in her purse; a few pennies that she must
hoard to buy postage stamps with. Two parties for young people were
given in Beverly and at both of them Mary Louise was the only girl
boarding at the school who was uninvited. She knew that some of the
girls even resented her presence at the school and often when she joined
a group of schoolmates their hushed conversation warned her they had
been discussing her.

Altogether, she felt that her presence at the school was fast becoming
unbearable and when one of the boarders openly accused her of stealing a
diamond ring--which was later discovered on a shelf above a washstand--
the patient humility of Mary Louise turned to righteous anger and she
resolved to leave the shelter of Miss Stearne's roof without delay.

There was only one possible place for her to go--to the Conant house at
Dorfield, where her mother and grandfather were staying and where she
had already passed three of the most pleasant years of her short life.
Gran'pa Jim had not told her she could come to him, even in an