"You don't understand, Elma. I am surprised that you should ask me. How could I break one of the strictest rules of the school?" "Oh, but you need not really break it; I mean it could be managed in this way: Would not your father lend mother the money? You need not do it at all; all you have to do is to ask him." "You must tell me everything, Elma. This is most mysterious. Why do you want money? Is it for yourself? You must tell me every single thing." "I cannot tell you, because the secret is not mine." "You say Kitty is mixed up with this?" "Yes, yes." "And you will not tell why?" "I cannot. I wish I could." "Then, Elma, I also must be firm. I cannot help you." "You will not ask your father?" "How could I? It would be a subterfuge--the whole thing would be a subterfuge. I must have nothing to do with it. I am sorry, Elma, for I see you are in great trouble; but I am powerless." "Then I am ruined," said Elma. She covered her face with her hands, and the tears trickled slowly between her fingers. "I wish I could help you," said Gwin kindly. "Is there any other way?" "No other way. I want eight pounds for a fortnight--I want it desperately. You could manage to let me have it without breaking the rules of the school, but you will not." "I am truly sorry, but--I will not." "Oh, Gwin, if you would only trust me. We were always friends, were we not?" "Yes," answered Gwin slowly. "I have always liked you, Elma." "We were friends," continued Elma, wiping the tears passionately from her cheeks; "and I did think last night, when I was in such trouble, that perhaps you could come to my aid. I thought you would trust me without my telling you everything." "I cannot, Elma," said Gwin again. "Why?" Elma now looked steadily into Gwin's face. Gwin looked gravely into hers. After a time Gwin spoke slowly: "Because," she said--"forgive me, Elma--you are not trustworthy." "Oh!" said Elma. She turned first pale and then red. "There is no use in my staying," she said, after a pause. "I am sorry I got you up so early." "Oh, that does not matter," said Gwin, in an altered tone. "I would do what I could to help you; but I cannot do the impossible." "I see that I was mistaken in you." "Not at all," replied Gwin. "You found me what I have always been. I am naturally careful. I never jump to wild conclusions; I am not impulsive. I have liked you, and I shall go on liking you in the future." "Even though I am not trustworthy?" "Yes; I shall like you for what you are. You have always been nice to me, and I wish to be nice to you. Please understand that this will make no difference." "And you won't tell what I came about?" "No, I shall never mention it. Now, must you go?" "I must," said Elma. The full morning light fell upon her face as she spoke, and Gwin noticed that it looked small, pinched, and thin. "You must have some breakfast first," she said. She walked across the room and sounded the bell. The servant appeared in a moment.