"You will tell us, my child, all that you know about this; it is your duty to your companion, to us, and to yourself. On your frankness depends to a large extent the punishment I shall deem it necessary to impose; you may lighten it very appreciably, by telling the truth--but if you hesitate, if I understand that you are withholding anything, it will be the worse for both of you." Mère Perpétua's interruption had been brief, but illuminating. Ragna felt that her way was made clear, it was with a steady eye and a firm, if slightly unnatural voice, that she answered: "Reverend Mother, the letters are mine; I gave them to Astrid to keep for me." The effect was electrical. Astrid gasped and her jaw dropped; Mère Perpétua stared at Ragna with the expression of one who has cherished a viper in her bosom, and only just found it out. Soeur Angélique gave a cry that was almost a sob. Ragna was her favourite, and she could have wept with disappointment. Only the Superior showed no surprise; her hands clasped the Book of Hours a little more tightly, and her keen eyes fixed on Ragna's face seemed trying to penetrate her very soul, that was all. Ragna returned her gaze without wavering. "How long has this been going on?" "Three months." "Why did you not keep the letters yourself?" "I was afraid of being found out!" "Oh!" said the Reverend Mother, and laughed a little. Her eyes went from Ragna, straight and proud, to Astrid, trembling violently, and gazing anxiously at her friend. "And did you answer the letters?" "Yes." "Who posted them for you?" Silence. "Come, who posted them for you?" "I will not tell," said Ragna. "I will tell anything that I have done myself, but I refuse to tell on others--besides, the blame is mine in any case." The Superior nodded her head. "I shall not press the point now, we can return to it later if need be. Are you aware of the result of this, of what you have done? No punishment can be too severe for the girl who deceives her friends and teachers so disgracefully, who sets so deplorable an example to her fellow-pupils. What will your parents say to this?" Ragna went pale: "Oh Reverend Mother," she pleaded, "do anything to me you like, but don't let them know of it! Oh, I know I have done wrong, punish me as much as you please, but don't tell them!" Astrid gathered herself together for a supreme effort; her cowardly little soul, shamed by her friend's generosity, rose to her lips. With tightly clasped hands, she stepped forward and began: "Reverend Mother!"--but Ragna interrupted her quickly. She must do the thing thoroughly or not at all; having put her hand to the plough, she would not turn back. "Reverend Mother, it has been very wrong of me, and I am sorry and ashamed. Punish me however you like. I am to blame, but don't punish Astrid, or hurt my parents; it is no fault of theirs."