"I do not know the name of the person who wrote that letter. I never received it. I can not tell you the meaning of the contents because I do not know them. I have never held any clandestine meetings with Athol or Archie, and so far as I knew until after the game today they had been in this school but once. At that time I knew they were coming and we did it partly for a lark and partly because I wanted so terribly to see Athol." A little catch came into her voice just there. Miss Woodhull wholly misinterpreted the reason for it and murmured sarcastically: _"Athol."_ "Yes, my twin brother, Miss Woodhull. I do not expect _you_ to understand what we have always been to each other. As to their presence here this afternoon, I knew absolutely nothing of it until Athol pitched his muff into the air and gave our old yell of victory at the end of the game," and Beverly nearly laughed at the recollection of her start when the old familiar sound fell upon her ears, and the memory of the way in which that muff had hurtled into the air. "Your mirth is most ill-timed, Miss Ashby. This is by no means a facetious occasion, please understand. I do not lightly tolerate the infringement of my rules, as you will learn to your cost. If, as you state, you are ignorant of the contents of this letter you may now read it aloud in my presence. Perhaps that may refresh your memory and enable you to answer _truthfully_ the other questions." Miss Woodhull held the letter toward Beverly. The girl did not stir. "Did you understand my command?" "I did, Miss Woodhull. I have already told you the entire truth, but I must decline to read that letter because it is not mine." "Decline! Decline!" almost shrieked the infuriated principal. "Do you dare defy my commands?" "I do not wish to defy your orders, Miss Woodhull, but I can not read someone else's letter." Beverly's voice was trembling partly from nervousness, partly from outraged pride. "You shall read that letter to me whether it is yours or not though I have not the slightest doubt that it is yours, and that you are trying to shield yourself behind some purely fictitious person. You seem to possess a lively imagination." Beverly stood rigid. Miss Woodhull waited. "Perhaps you will be good enough to give a name to your fictitious being?"