“I did not get you into this,” retorted Maggie. “I know I am not blameless in the matter; but could I imagine for a moment that any girl, any girl who belonged to this college, could debase herself to steal and then throw the blame on another. Nancy Banister has told me, Rose, how cruelly you spoke to Priscilla— what agony your cruel words cost her. I did wrong, I own, but no act of mine would have tempted another girl to do what you have done. Now, stop crying; I have not brought you here to discuss your wickedness with you. I shall tell the whole circumstance to Miss Heath in the morning. It is my plain duty to do so, and no words of yours can prevent me.” With a stifled cry Rosalind Merton again fell on her knees. “Get up,” said Maggie, “get up at once, or I shall bring Miss Heath here now. Your crime, Rosalind, is known to Miss Day and to Miss Marsh. Even without consulting Miss Heath, I think I can take it upon me to say that you had better leave St. Benet’s by the first train in the morning.” “Oh, yes— yes! that would be much the best thing to do.” “You are to go home, remember.” “Yes, I will certainly go home. But, Maggie, I have no money— I have literally no money.” “I will ask Priscilla Peel to go with you to the railway station, and I will give her sufficient money to pay your fare to London— you live in London, don’t you?” “Yes, at Bayswater.” “What is your address” “19 Queen Street, Bayswater.” “Priscilla shall telegraph to your mother, when you start, and ask her to meet you at King’s Cross.” Rosalind’s face grew paler and paler. “What excuse am I to give to mother?” she asked. “That is your own affair; I have no doubt you will find something to say. I should advise you, Rosalind, to tell your poor mother the truth, for she is certain to hear all about it from Miss Heath the following morning.” “Oh, what a miserable, miserable girl I am, Maggie!” “You are a very miserable and sinful girl; It was a wretched day for St. Benet’s when a girl such as you are came to live here. But I don’t want to speak of that now, Rosalind; there is something you must do before you leave.” “What is that?” “You must go to Priscilla Peel and humbly beg her pardon.” “Oh, I cannot, I cannot! You have no idea how I hate Priscilla.” “I am not surprised; the children of darkness generally hate those who walk in the light.” “Maggie, I _can’t_ beg her pardon.” “You can please yourself about that: I certainly shall not force you; but, unless you beg Priscilla’s pardon and confess to her the wicked deed you have done, I shall lend you no money to go home. You can go to your room now, Rosalind; I am tired and wish to go to bed. You will be able to let me know your decision in the morning.”