For one hour Anne sat with her head held high and her fair little face flushed and burning. But she did not cry. And Tommy, bowed to the ground by his sense of guilt in the matter, did not dare to look at the patient, suffering martyr. It was thus that Launcelot Bart, coming in just before twelve o'clock to see Tommy, found her. As soon as he got Tommy outside of the schoolroom he collared him. "What's the matter with Anne?" he demanded. "She talked in school," said Tommy, doggedly. "I don't believe it." "Well, she did, anyhow." "Whose fault was it?" "Hers, I suppose." "You don't suppose anything of the kind. Anne Batcheller never broke a rule in her life willingly, and you know it, Tommy Tolliver." The children were coming out of the schoolroom in little groups of twos and threes--the girls discussing Anne's martyrdom sympathetically, the boys with hangdog self-consciousness. Inside the room, Anne, released from her ordeal, had gone to her desk and was sitting there with her head up. Her face was white now, the little lunch-basket was open before her, but the cookie and the apple were untouched. Launcelot looked in through the window. "Poor little soul," he murmured. And then Tommy blubbered. "It was really my fault, Launcelot," he confessed. "What!" Tommy explained. "And you let Anne bear it--you let Anne be punished--oh, you miserable--little--little--cur," said the indignant squire of dames, in a white heat. "Aw, what could I do?" whimpered Tommy. "Go in and tell Miss Mary," said Launcelot. "Aw--Launcelot--" "_Go in and tell Miss Mary!_" Tommy went. But Miss Mary did not wish to be bothered. "I made a rule and Anne broke it," she said, when Tommy tried to straighten things out, "and that is all there is to it. Don't talk about it any more, Tommy," and she dismissed him peremptorily. When Tommy told Launcelot the result of the interview, the big boy set his lips in a firm line, and started off down the dusty road. He went straight to town and to Judy. "Oh, oh," said Judy, when she had listened to his tale of woe, "what a mean old thing she is--I hate her--" and her dark eyes flashed. "I don't think Miss Mary is mean," said Launcelot, "but the children _are_ restless, and she isn't very strong, and when she feels badly she takes it out on the scholars." "But to punish Anne," said Judy, and her voice trembled, "dear little Anne--" "She might at least have listened to Tommy's explanation," said Launcelot. After a pause he said: "I came to you because I thought you might go and see Anne after school. It would do her a lot of good. She will be all broken up." "I will go to school and get her," cried Judy, eagerly. "Is it very far?" "I am afraid you couldn't walk," said Launcelot, doubtfully. "I'll drive over in the trap," said Judy. "Grandfather says I can use Vic whenever I want to."