“She knew all the time that you were planning to go to the dance, but she never said a word to any one, though it most broke her precious heart to think you would do such a thing.  Last night when she came in here after we had chased the bear, she found you gone.  Patricia was mean to her when she asked about you.  This morning when she came in to dress, you weren’t here.  She saw that your bed hadn’t been slept in.  Then she knew.  She was very unhappy.  When they asked her about you this morning at breakfast Harriet avoided the questions and gave Mrs. Livingston indirect answers.  She even brought a tray to you to keep up the deception.  Now do you realize what that means to a girl like Harriet?  The moment she gave a second thought to what she had done she was horrified.  There isn’t a more unhappy girl in the world than Harriet Burrell at this minute.”

“Oh!” exclaimed Cora weakly.

“That isn’t all.  She knows more about you than this, even if this weren’t enough.”

“What does she know?” demanded Miss Kidder with a violent start, the color leaving her face suddenly.

“She knows you and Patricia were in that hazing affair.  Then she knew something worse than that.  She knows that you were the one who spoiled the consomme and lost the ‘honor’ bead for her.”

Cora sat down heavily on the edge of the cot.  Her eyes were wide with terror.

“She—­she knows?”

“Yes.  And I shouldn’t be surprised if she knew more.  She isn’t the girl to tell all she knows.  Now, what are you going to do about it, Cora Kidder?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” moaned the unhappy girl, burying her face in the pillows, her shoulders rising and falling with her smothered sobs.

Jane watched her in silence.  There was an expression of compassion in the eyes of Crazy Jane.  Finally she rose and stepped softly to the cot.  Cora was aroused by a gentle touch on her shoulder.

“Dearie!” murmured Crazy Jane soothingly.

“Oh, what shall I do!  What shall I do?” moaned Cora.

“Go straight to Mrs. Livingston and tell her everything.  Do not spare yourself, nor Patricia, for she is the one who is to blame.  She has been using you to avenge what she thinks are her own private wrongs.  Tell it all, and set right that noble girl who has protected you, and who has gotten herself into an awful mess in doing so.  Cora will you do it?”

“I can’t, I can’t,” moaned Cora.

“Then I will do it myself,” warned Jane, withdrawing her hand sharply.

“No, no, no!  Don’t!  I’ll do it.  I’ll go.  I’ll tell her everything.  I don’t care what she does to me.  I just can’t stand this!  Oh, I never thought there were such people in the world!  I’ll go to Mrs. Livingston to-night, and——­”

“Not to-night.  Go, now, Cora.  You can’t tell what might happen between this and to-night.”

“Yes, I’ll go,” was the faint reply.  A veil seemed to fall from before the eyes of Cora Kidder.  She saw herself as she had never done before, saw her own unworthiness, saw how she had been led to commit acts that were foreign to her real nature.  She wondered how she ever could have been so blind.  Cora rose and hurriedly began doing up her hair.  Jane gave the girl an encouraging pat on the shoulder and slipped from the tent without another word.