rl's eyes were still hard and forbidding and their steady stare made
her uncomfortable. So she did not speak to the invalid and was
promptly retreating when Gwendolyn suddenly asked, yet with apparent
effort:

"Mamma, will you please go away for a few minutes? I've--I've got to
speak to Dorothy--alone."

"Why, certainly, dearest, if you think you're strong enough. But
wouldn't you better wait another day? Wouldn't I be able to talk for
you?"

"No, no. Oh! no, no. Nobody but I can--Please go--go quick!"

"'Stand not upon the order of your going but go at once!'" quoted Lady
Jane, jestingly.

But she failed to make her daughter smile and went away, warning:

"Don't talk of that accident again to-night, girls."

"That's exactly what I must talk about, Mamma, but you mustn't care."

Lady Jane's heart was anxious as she closed the door behind her and
she would have been amazed had she heard Gwendolyn's exclamation:

"I've been a wicked girl! Oh, Dorothy! I've been so mean to you! And
all the time you show me kindness. Are you trying to 'heap coals' on
my head?"

"'Heap coals?'" echoed Dolly, at first not comprehending; then she
laughed. "I couldn't do that. I have none to 'heap' and I'd be horrid
if I tried. What do you mean?"

"It began the night you came. I made up things about you in my mind
and then told them to our 'set' for facts. I'd--I'd had trouble with
the 'set' because they would not remember about--about keeping
ourselves apart from those who hadn't titles. I felt we ought to
remember; that if our England had made 'classes' we ought to help her,
loyally. That was the first feeling, way down deep. Then--then I don't
get liked as I want to be, because I can't help knowing things about
other girls and if they break the rules I felt I ought to tell the
teachers. Somehow, even they don't like that; for the Lady Principal
about as plain as called me 'tale-bearer.' I hate--oh! I do hate to
tell you all this! But I can't help it. Something inside me makes me,
but I'm so miserable!"

She looked the fact she stated and Dorothy's sympathy was won, so that
she begged:

"Don't do it, then. Just get well and--and carry no more tales and
you'll be happy right away."

"It's easy to talk--for you, maybe. For me, I'd almost rather die than
own I've been at fault--if it wasn't for that horrid, sick sort of
feeling inside me."

In spite of herself the listener laughed, for Gwendolyn had laid her
hands upon her s