CHAPTER XXIV
"WHO IS THE TATTLE-TALE?"
The next day the whole school were at their books again--the shortThanksgiving recess was ended. It had been just a breathing space forthe girls who really were anxious to stand well in their classes atBriarwood Hall. Those who--like some of the Upedes--desired nothing somuch as "fun," complained because the vacation had been so short, anddawdled over their books again.
But there was no dawdling in Duet Two, West Dormitory. Had Helen beeninclined to lapse occasionally, or Ruth sunk under the worriment ofmind which had borne her down since the day of the skating party onTriton Lake, Mercy Curtis kept the two chums to the mark.
"No shirking, you young ones!" commanded the crippled girl, in hersharp way. "Remember the hare would have won the race easily if hehadn't laid down to nap beside the course. Come! some tortoise willbeat you in French and Latin yet, Helen, if you don't keep to work.And go to work at that English composition, Ruthie Remissness! You'dboth be as lazy as Ludlum's dog if it wasn't for me."
And so she kept them up to the work, and kept herself up, too. Therewasn't much time for larking now, if one wished to stand well at theend of the term. The teachers watched for shirkers more closely, too.Even Mary Cox and her friends next door showed some signs of industry.
"Although it does seem as though we were always being worked to death,"groaned Heavy, one day, to Ruth. "I feel as though my constitution wasactually breaking down under the strain. I've written to my fatherthat if he wants to see even a shadow of my former self at Christmas,he had better tell Mrs. Tellingham not to force me so!"
She sighed breezily and looked so hard at the piece of cocoanut piebeside Ruth's plate (having eaten her own piece already) that Ruthlaughed and pushed it toward her.
"Have it if you like, Heavy," she said. "I am not very hungry."
"Well, there isn't quite so much of you to nourish, my dear," declaredJennie Stone, more briskly. "I really _do_ feel the need of an extrapiece. Thank you, Ruth! You're a good little thing."
"Miss Picolet will see you, Ruth," whispered Helen, on her other side."She is disgusted with Heavy's piggishness. But Miss Picolet, afterall, won't say anything to you. You are her pet."
"Don't say that, Helen," replied Ruth, with some sadness. "I am sorryfor Miss Picolet."
"I don't see why you need be. She seems to get along very well,"returned her chum.
But Ruth could not forget how the little French teacher had looked--howfrightened she was and how tearful--the afternoon when Ruth had toldher of the incident aboard the _Minnetonka_, and of her loss of themysterious letter sent by the harpist. The little French woman hadbegged her not to blame herself for the loss of the letter; she hadonly begged her to say nothing to a soul about either the man or theletter. And Ruth had kept the secret.
Nearly a fortnight had passed since the occurrence, and it lacked notmany days to the close of the term, when one evening, after a meetingof the S. B.'s in their usual room over the dining hall, Ruth had beendelayed a bit and was hurrying out alone so as not to be caught out ofthe dormitory after warning bell, when old Tony Foyle hailed her.
"I was a-goin' to the West Dormitory to ax Miss Scrimp for to call ye,Miss Ruthie," said the old Irishman, who--like most of the help aboutthe school--was fond of the girl from the Red Mill. "Ye're wanted,Miss."
"Wanted?" asked Ruth, in surprise. "Who by?"
"The Missus wants ye--Missus Tellingham. Ye're ter go straight to herstudy, so ye are."
Much disturbed--for she feared there might be bad news from home--Ruthran to the main building and knocked on Mrs. Tellingham's door. At herpleasantly spoken "Come in!" the girl entered and found the Preceptressat her desk, while the old doctor, quite as blind and deaf toeverything but his own work as usual, was bent over his papers at theend of the long table. But at this hour, and in the privacy of theplace, he had cocked the brown wig over one ear in the most comicalway, displaying a perfectly bald, shiny patch of pate which made hisnaturally high forehead look fairly enormous.
"Nothing to be frightened about, Miss Fielding," said Mrs. Tellingham,instantly reading aright what she saw in Ruth's countenance. "You neednot be disturbed. For I really do not believe you are at fault in thismatter which has been brought to my notice."
"No, Mrs. Tellingham?" asked Ruth, curiously.
"I have only a question to ask you. Have you lost something--somethingthat might have been entrusted to you for another person? Some letter,for instance?"
The color flashed into Ruth's face. She was always thinking about thenote the harpist had given to her on the steamboat to take to MissPicolet. She could not hide her trouble from the sharp eyes of Mrs.Tellingham.
"You _have_ lost something?"
"I don't know whether I should tell you. I don't know that I have aright to tell you," Ruth stammered.
Mrs. Tellingham looked at her sharply for a minute or so, and thennodded. Then she said:
"I understand. You have been put on your honor not to tell?"
"Yes, Mrs. Tellingham. It is not my secret."
"But there is a letter to be recovered?"
"Ye-es."
"Is this it?" asked Mrs. Tellingham, suddenly thrusting under Ruth'seye a very much soiled and crumpled envelope. And it had beenunsealed, Ruth could see. The superscription was to "MademoisellePicolet."
"It--it looks like it," Ruth whispered. "But it was sealed when I hadit."
"I do not doubt it," said Mrs. Tellingham, with a shake of her head."But the letter was given to me first, and then the envelope. The--theperson who claims to have found it when you dropped it, declared it tobe open then."
"Oh, I do not think so!" cried Ruth.
"Well. Enough that I know its contents. You do not?"
"Indeed, no, Mrs. Tellingham. I may have done wrong to agree todeliver the letter. But I--I was so sorry for her----"
"I understand. I do not blame you in the least, child," said Mrs.Tellingham, shortly. "This letter states that the writer expects moremoney from our Miss Picolet--poor thing! It states that if the moneyis not forthcoming to an address he gives her before to-day--to-day,mind you, is the date--he will come here for it. It is, in short, athreat to make trouble for Miss Picolet. And the person finding thisletter when you dropped it has deliberately, I believe, retained ituntil to-day before bringing it to me, for the express purpose ofletting the scoundrel come here and disturb Miss Picolet's peace ofmind."
"Oh, how mean!" gasped Ruth, involuntarily.
"Mean indeed, Ruth," said the Preceptress, gravely. "And you haveyourself experienced some ill-usage from the person who has played spyand informer in this matter, since you have come to Briarwood Hall. Iunderstand--you know that little can go on about the school that doesnot reach my ears in one way or another--that this same person hascalled you a 'tattle-tale' and tried to make your friends among thegirls believe that you played traitor to them on a certain occasion. Ihave told Miss Cox exactly what I think of her action in this case,"and she tapped the letter before her. "She has shown plainly," saidMrs. Tellingham, with sternness, "that she is a most sly andmean-spirited girl. I am sorry that one of the young ladies ofBriarwood Hall is possessed of so contemptible a disposition."