When Elsie had begun speaking, Mrs. Weatherbee had been on the point of checking her. She refrained, however, because she realized suddenly that Marian deserved this arraignment. She had manufactured trouble out of whole cloth; now she fully merited her cousin's plain speaking. "You have said a good deal about injustice, Mrs. Weatherbee. I think it very unfair that I should be accused of something which I don't in the least understand," began Marian, with a fine pretense of injured innocence. "I should like to see the letter you accuse me of writing." From underneath the pile of papers on the table, the matron drew forth a typed letter. She handed it to Marian without a word. Marian read it, then laughed disagreeably. "No wonder Elsie knew of it," she sneered. "This is some of her work. She was crazy to get into Madison Hall with us. She knew there would be no vacancies. I had told her that. She listened to what I had said about Miss Allen, every word of it's true, too, by the way, and had someone type this letter. After that she applied for admission. Very clever indeed, Elsie, but you mustn't lay it to me. The signature is certainly not in my handwriting." It was now Marian's turn to look triumphant. "The whole trouble with Elsie is that I threatened to expose her for eavesdropping," she continued. "She has made me all this fuss simply to be even. She knows that she is responsible for this letter. The fact that she mentioned it to you, Mrs. Weatherbee, is proof enough, I should say. Certainly you have no proof that I had anything to do with it, beyond what she says. Her word counts for nothing." A breathless silence followed Marian's bold turning of the tables. Elsie gave a sharp gasp of pure consternation. "Oh, I didn't do it!" she stammered, casting an appealing glance about her. "I--hope--you--don't--believe----" "Here is the proof that you didn't," broke in Jane Allen's resolute tones. She had resolved to come to the defense of the girl who had so sturdily defended Judith. From her blouse she had drawn Eleanor's letter and the carbon copy of the letter which Mrs. Weatherbee had received. When the latter had finished examining both, she looked up and said in a dry, hard voice: "This is the most dishonorable affair I have ever known to happen at Wellington. I shall certainly take it up with Miss Rutledge. There is now no room left for doubt regarding the authorship of this letter. It is undeniably your work, Miss Seaton. It remains yet to be discovered what part Miss Gilbert played in it." Without further preliminary, the incensed matron read aloud Eleanor's letter. Marian Seaton turned from red to pale as she listened. Maizie kept her eyes resolutely on the floor. This last bit of evidence was too overwhelming to be disputed. It could not be explained away. "What have you to say to this?" demanded Mrs. Weatherbee of Marian. "Nothing," was the muttered reply.