nd--and still
Miss Jethro refused to see it.

"There is just light enough left," she said, "to show me my way to the
door. Good-night--and good-by."

Emily caught at her dress, and stopped her. "Why won't you shake hands
with me?" she asked.

The wick of the candle fell over in the socket, and left them in the
dark. Emily resolutely held the teacher's dress. With or without light,
she was still bent on making Miss Jethro explain herself.

They had throughout spoken in guarded tones, fearing to disturb the
sleeping girls. The sudden darkness had its inevitable effect. Their
voices sank to whispers now. "My father's friend," Emily pleaded, "is
surely my friend?"

"Drop the subject."

"Why?"

"You can never be _my_ friend."

"Why not?"

"Let me go!"

Emily's sense of self-respect forbade her to persist any longer. "I beg
your pardon for having kept you here against your will," she said--and
dropped her hold on the dress.

Miss Jethro instantly yielded on her side. "I am sorry to have been
obstinate," she answered. "If you do despise me, it is after all no more
than I have deserved." Her hot breath beat on Emily's face: the unhappy
woman must have bent over the bed as she made her confession. "I am not
a fit person for you to associate with."

"I don't believe it!"

Miss Jethro sighed bitterly. "Young and warm hearted--I was once like
you!" She controlled that outburst of despair. Her next words were
spoken in steadier tones. "You _will_ have it--you _shall_ have it!"
she said. "Some one (in this house or out of it; I don't know which)
has betrayed me to the mistress of the school. A wretch in my situation
suspects everybody, and worse still, does it without reason or excuse.
I heard you girls talking when you ought to have been asleep. You all
dislike me. How did I know it mightn't be one of you? Absurd, to a
person with a well-balanced mind! I went halfway up the stairs, and felt
ashamed of myself, and went back to my room. If I could only have got
some rest! Ah, well, it was not to be done. My own vile suspicions kept
me awake; I left my bed again. You know what I heard on the other side
of that door, and why I was interested in hearing it. Your father never
told me he had a daughter. 'Miss Brown,' at this school, was any 'Miss
Brown,' to me. I had no idea of who you really were until to-night.
I'm wandering. What does all this matter to you? Miss Ladd has been
merciful; she lets me go without exposing