Haltingly Emily told her tale.  In a moment’s folly she had promised to buy a set of books from an agent and had signed a paper pledging herself to pay for it within three months.  The price was five dollars.  At the time she thought she could save enough out of her meager wages to pay it, but found that she could not.  The time was up several months ago and the agent was threatening her with a lawsuit if she did not pay up this month.  Fearing that the people with whom she lived would be angry if they heard of the affair and would turn her out of her home into the streets—­for to her a lawsuit was something vague and terrible and she thought she would have to go to jail when it was found she could not pay—­she grew desperate, and being alone in the room with the paintings for an instant she had seized the opportunity and carried one out under her middy blouse.  She intended to sell it and pay for the books.

Hinpoha’s eyes filled with tears at Emily’s distress.  She was very tender hearted and was easily touched by other people’s troubles.  “If I lent you five dollars to pay for the books, would you take it?” she asked.

Emily started up like a condemned prisoner who is pardoned on the way to execution.  “I’ll pay it back,” she cried, “if I have to go out scrubbing to earn the money.  And you won’t say anything about the picture,” she said, clasping her hands beseechingly, “if I put it back where I got it?”

“No,” said Hinpoha, with all the conviction of her loyal young nature, “I give you my word of honor that I will never say anything about it.”

“Oh, you’re an angel straight from heaven,” exclaimed Emily.

“First time I’ve heard of a red-headed angel,” laughed Hinpoha.

Emily stooped to pick up the painting and restore it to its place, when she caught her breath in dismay.  She had dropped a tear on the picture and made a light spot on the dark brown trunk of a tree.  It was conspicuously noticeable, and would be sure to call forth the strictest inquiry.  Emily covered her face with her hands.  “It’s my punishment,” she groaned, “for trying to steal.  Now I’ve ruined the honor of the school.  We promised to send those pictures back unharmed if Mr. White would let us have them.”  Her dismay was intense.

Hinpoha examined the spot carefully.  “Do you know,” she said, “I believe I could fill in that place with dark color so it would never be noticed?  The bark of the tree has a rough appearance and the slight unevenness around the edges of the spot will never be noticed.  Don’t worry, all will yet be well.”  If Hinpoha would have let her, Emily would have gone down on her knees to her.  “Come, we must make haste,” said Hinpoha.  “You go right home and I will take the picture into our club room and fix it up and then slip upstairs with it and nobody will ever be any the wiser.  It’s a good thing there’s nobody up there now.”