“I think it’s a little too bad,” said the trembling little sisters, crying and talking together; “it’s real mean, to wake us up, and frighten us so.  I mean to tell Mrs. Arlington of you to-morrow, Miss Glenn.  I know our mother won’t let us stay here to be frightened so!”

Ruth Glenn sat down on the edge of her own bed and said nothing, but Agnes noticed that she shivered, as if with cold.

“Come, Miss Glenn, lie down,” said Agnes, “and let us see if we can have quiet for the rest of the night; we shall none of us be fit for study to-morrow, I fear.”

Ruth Glenn obeyed quietly, and was soon asleep, but the others had been so agitated that it was a long time before their minds were sufficiently calmed for repose.  When startled by the rising bell, they got up tired and unrefreshed, and with no very amiable feelings towards the author of the disturbance in the night.  Miss Glenn went about dressing as quietly as usual, saying nothing to any one; till little Ella, who was a spirited little thing, just as she was leaving the room, turned about and said: 

“Now, Miss Glenn!  I am going right down to tell Mrs. Arlington about you.”

To the surprise of all, this cold silent girl sat down on the bed, and wringing her hands, and rocking back and forth, and crying most piteously, she begged little Ella not to tell of her.

“I will do anything I can for you, Ella,” said she, “I will help you in your lessons, whenever you want any help; only don’t tell Mrs. Arlington; she will send me away perhaps, and then what shall I do!” She then implored Agnes to use her influence with the little girls, and her cousins, to ensure their silence on the subject, promising not to disturb them again, if she could help it.

“I don’t know what I went to your bed for, Carrie,” she said, “I did not want to frighten you.”

“Why did you act so strangely then, Miss Glenn?” asked Agnes, “were you asleep?”

“I don’t know; I cannot tell; don’t ask me;” was all they could get from Miss Glenn, who continued to weep and wring her hands.

Though apparently very poor, Miss Glenn possessed some few rare and curious things, which she said her father, who had been a sea-captain, had brought her from other countries, and by means of some of these, she succeeded in securing the silence of the little girls.  Grace and Effie were easily induced by the remonstrances of Agnes, and partly by pity for Miss Glenn’s evident distress, to promise not to betray her.  None of the occupants of that room felt fit for study that day, except Miss Glenn.  She sat alone, as usual, and studied as perseveringly as ever.  This was only the beginning of a series of nocturnal performances, continued almost every night, with every morning a repetition of the same scene of begging and remonstrance with her room-mates, to persuade them not to betray her to Mrs. Arlington.  Sometimes, as Miss Glenn was quietly leaving her bed,