of you to say that, Mary," remarked one of the girls.
"Well," she continued, "I suppose it is all settled, and poor Annie, to
say the least of it, is not a lady. For my own part, I always thought her
great fun, but if she is proved guilty of this offense I wash my hands of
her."
"We all wash our hands of her," echoed the girls, with the exception of
Susan Drummond, who, as usual, was nodding in her chair.
"What do you say, Susy?" asked one or two; "you have not opened your lips
all this time."
"I--eh?--what?" asked Susan, stretching herself and yawning, "oh, about
Annie Forest--I suppose you are right, girls. Is not that the tea-gong?
I'm awfully hungry."
Hester Thornton went into the tea-room that evening feeling particularly
virtuous, and with an idea that she had distinguished herself in some
way.
Poor foolish, thoughtless Hester, she little guessed what seed she had
sown, and what a harvest she was preparing for her own reaping by-and-by.
CHAPTER XV.
ABOUT SOME PEOPLE WHO THOUGHT NO EVIL.
A few days after this Hester was much delighted to receive an invitation
from her little friends, the Misses Bruce. These good ladies had not
forgotten the lonely and miserable child whom they had comforted not a
little during her journey to school six weeks ago. They invited Hester to
spend the next half-holiday with them, and as this happened to fall on a
Saturday, Mrs. Willis gave Hester permission to remain with her friends
until eight o'clock, when she would send the carriage to fetch her home.
The trouble about Annie had taken place the Wednesday before, and all the
girls' heads were full of the uncleared-up mystery when Hester started on
her little expedition.
Nothing was known; no fresh light had been thrown on the subject.
Everything went on as usual within the school, and a casual observer
would never have noticed the cloud which rested over that usually happy
dwelling. A casual observer would have noticed little or no change in
Annie Forest; her merry laugh was still heard, her light step still
danced across the play-room floor, she was in her place in class, and
was, if anything, a little more attentive and a little more successful
over her lessons. Her pretty piquant face, her arch expression, the
bright, quick and droll glance which she alone could give, were still to
be seen; but those who knew her well and those who loved her best saw a
change in Annie.
In the play-room she devoted h
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