She returned to the school by the same dusty highway, entered by a back door, went to her room, threw herself on her bed for five minutes, then washed her face and hands and went downstairs for afternoon school. Not a soul had seen her go; not a soul had witnessed her return. Mrs Hazlitt watched her as she took her place in class--her face flushed, her lips dry. Miss Duke raised a guilty and startled face when the girl--whose secret, if she had one, was so soon to be exposed--took her usual place and went through her usual tasks with that skill and ability which always characterised her. Mrs Hazlitt was more determined than ever to take steps to discover what she felt was wrong; but she looked in vain in the letter box. Childish productions from more than one member of the school were there, but there was no letter addressed to Miss Brenda Carlton--no letter of any sort in Penelope Carlton's upright and somewhat remarkable handwriting. What could have happened? Had the girl dared to go to that extreme of disobedience? Had she posted her letter herself? CHAPTER SIX. PREPARATIONS FOR THE VISIT. For a few days Mrs Hazlitt examined the post box, but there was no letter of any sort from Penelope. In the end, she was obliged to confess to Deborah that she had been--she supposed--quite mistaken in the girl. "I am distressed about her," she said; "for she doesn't look well or happy. But there is no doubt that she has not written anything which I ought to see. Do not make yourself unhappy therefore, Deborah dear, but let us continue our usual pleasant life and trust that my suspicions have not been justified." "Oh, I am certain they have not," said Deborah. "Meanwhile," continued Mrs Hazlitt, "we are exceedingly busy; I find the tableaux are going to be much better than I expected. The little plays too, and the garden of roses--an extravaganza--will be quite sweet. But I am really putting all my strength and energy into Tennyson's poem; I am only vexed that Honora Beverley cannot be Helen of Troy." "But what do you think of the present Helen?" enquired Miss Duke. "She is much more remarkable than I thought it possible she could be. I am most anxious to see her to-night, when we have a dress rehearsal and she will wear her costume for the first time. She is a queer girl, and not a happy one. I wonder what sort of creature that sister of hers is." "By the way," said Miss Duke, "she came to me this morning with a petition. She wants to know if she may invite her sister to the performance. It seems that Miss Brenda Carlton could take an early train from where she is now staying and reach here in time for the day's festivities; and Penelope would take it as a great favour if she might sleep in her room that night."