Susan, I
must be all the more observant of her myself. Good-night."

Marion said "Good-night" faintly; certainly this was a very different
reception from what she had expected. "She wants me to be perfect,"
she said to herself fretfully, "and she knows that I never can be;
then Susan! What have I done? Oh, dear! dear! I wish I had never
thought about a prayer-meeting."

So far she had only dimly seen where her motives had been wrong, but
she felt their check.

Fraeulein Sausmann met her on her way to her room.

"Why, Marione!" she said, drawing her little self erect, and trying to
look very dignified, "I am astonish! I am regret! You am very onright.
You am to be gone to Fraeulein Ashton next day and say you regret; I
determine on it! Marione, you stand-under?"

"I have just come from Miss Ashton," said Marion gravely.

"You has just come! Very bad. You _schlecht Fraeulein_! What you for
done?"

"Nothing, Fraeulein. At least," correcting herself as she remembered
Susan, "I hope nothing _schlecht_."

"You do not say right, Marione; I shame you German speak so
_schlecht_." Then the Fraeulein laughed merrily, and standing on the
tips of her little toes she kissed Marion on both cheeks.

The kisses went right to Marion's heart, cheered and comforted her so
her face had a less troubled look as she entered her room.

Susan was sitting at the table studying, and the searching glance she
gave her made the color rush into Marion's face.

"She's gone and told of me, the ugly, mean, old thing," thought Susan.
"I knew she would sooner or later. Now I'm in for it!"

In vain she tried to fasten her attention on her book again. Over and
over the consequences of the disclosure she went with beating heart.
"Oh, if I had never, never, never done it!" she said to herself in the
helpless, hopeless way that attends a wrong action. The short-lived
celebrity the story had given her had all died away, nothing remained
but this dreadful regret, and fear of what was to come.

When she saw Marion go into her bedroom, she had almost a mind to
follow her and confess the truth. Then she thought Marion knew it
already, had perhaps told Miss Ashton, and a better thing to do would
be to go to Miss Ashton and make the confession; to go at once, this
very night, before she had a chance to tell the whole school: perhaps
if she did, Miss Ashton would be merciful, would scold and forgive
her. She looked at the clock; if she made haste there