CHAPTER XVI

A CRISIS

Fully as bewildered as the girls she had left behind her, Beverly went
quickly to Miss Woodhull's study. So far as she could recollect nothing
could be scored against her deportment unless, at this late date her wild
gallop to Kilton Hall had become known, or the presence of Athol and
Archie at the Hallowe'en frolic had been discovered. True, she had
recognized Athol and his companion as they were leaving the gymnasium
that afternoon, but she did not believe that any one else had. As to any
foreknowledge of that prank she had not had the slightest. So her
conscience was quite clear on that score anyway. She tapped at the door
and was bidden enter. Miss Woodhull's expression as she looked at Beverly
was most forbidding.

"Good-evening, Miss Woodhull. Miss Stetson said you wished to see me."

Utterly ignoring the greeting, Miss Woodhull thrust toward Beverly the
incriminating letter, at the same time demanding: "Who has had the
audacity to send such a thing as this to you while you are a pupil in my
school?"

Beverly started at sight of the lost love billet, Miss Woodhull noted the
start and a sneer curved her set lips.

"No one sent it to me, Miss Woodhull," she answered calmly.

"You will probably add that you have never seen it before."

Beverly did not reply.

"Answer me at once."

"Yes, I have seen it before."

"Where did you last see it?"

"In my English history book."

"How came it there, pray?"

"I put it there myself."

"And yet you have the temerity to tell me that it is not yours? Are you
in the habit of reading letters which are addressed to other people?"

"Was the letter addressed, Miss Woodhull? It was not even in an envelope
when it came into my possession."

"You have no doubt destroyed the envelope. Nevertheless, I must insist
upon knowing who wrote that letter."

"I cannot tell you, Miss Woodhull. I have never looked at the signature."

"How dare you resort to such fencing with me? You cannot evade a direct
answer, for I have resolved to learn the writer's name, and report him to
the principal of his school," asserted Miss Woodhull, jumping at
conclusions.

"I cannot tell you the writer's name."

"You mean that you _will_ not. But, I warn you, this obstinacy only adds
to the gravity of the situation."

"It is not obstinacy, Miss Woodhull; I do not know it."

"Yet you admit having had this open letter in your p