Honor became aware of the hostile feeling against her. All
eyes were turned in her direction, but there was recognition or welcome
in none. It was a terrible thing to meet the cool stare of nearly forty
companions, and feel herself thus pilloried for general contempt, yet
not for a moment did she flinch. White to the lips, but with her head
held up in silent self-justification, she moved slowly down the room,
running the gauntlet of public disdain. Did I say all had abandoned
her? No, there was one who remained faithful, one who was, not merely a
fair-weather friend, but ready to believe in her and stand by her
through the severest ordeal. Janie, the shyest girl at St. Chad's, who
never as a rule raised her voice to venture an opinion or a criticism
on any subject, came boldly to the rescue now. Stepping across to
Honor, she took her firmly by the arm; then, almost as white and
haggard as her friend, she turned and faced the rest.

"I think you will be very sorry for this afterwards," she began, in a
voice that astonished even herself by its assurance. "It is not right
to convict anybody without a trial, and Honor has not yet been proved
guilty. I'm absolutely certain she is innocent, and that in time she'll
be able to establish her good name. We've known her for a whole term
now at St. Chad's, and she has gained a reputation for being perfectly
truthful and 'square'. The charge against her is so entirely opposite
to her character that I wonder anyone can credit it."

"Let her clear herself, then!" replied Maisie Talbot. "It ought to be
easy enough, if she is really innocent. In the meantime, the honour of
St. Chad's is being trailed through the dust!"

Excited comments and indignant accord greeted these words. All
evidently were in agreement with Maisie, and determined to blackball
Honor as a vindication of their zeal for the credit of their house. The
supper-bell fortunately put an end to the unpleasant scene, and nobody
was surprised when Honor, instead of walking into the dining-hall with
the others, marched straight upstairs to her cubicle. Miss Maitland
noticed her empty place at table, but made no remark. Perhaps, like the
girls, she felt her absence to be a relief.

When Janie went to No. 8 at nine o'clock she found her friend already
in bed, and feigning sleep with such persistence that she evidently did
not wish to be disturbed. Always tactful and thoughtful, Janie drew the
curtain again without attempting