“May I go with her, and see that she is covered up warm?” said Nell.

“Yes,” said Miss Davis, “certainly.”  And the two little girls left the room together, Hetty squeezing Nell’s hand in gratitude for her kindness.

When they got up to Hetty’s room Nell’s curiosity could no longer restrain itself.

“Oh, Hetty,” she said, “will you tell me what you were doing?  I can see it is a great secret.  And I won’t tell anybody.”

“Neither will I,” said Hetty laughing; “but I was not hurting anyone, nor breaking the laws.”

“Now, you are making fun of me,” said Nell; “it is too bad not to tell me.  And Phyllis will be cool with me to-night for running after you.”

“Then why did you not stay in the school-room?” said Hetty sadly.  “I don’t want to make coolness between you and Phyllis.”

“I shouldn’t mind Phyllis if you would let me have a secret with you.  It is so nice to have a secret, and it is so hard to get one.  Everybody knows all about everything.”

“I don’t agree with you; I hate secrets,” said Hetty.  “This is not much of one, I think, but it is somebody else’s affair, and I will not tell it.”

Having wrung so much as this from Hetty, Nell grew wildly excited over the matter, and was so annoyed at not having her curiosity gratified that she went away out of the room in a hurry without having seen whether Hetty was warm enough or not.  On her return to the school-room she announced that Hetty could not tell anything about how she had passed the afternoon, because it was somebody else’s secret.

“Perhaps she has been bringing some village girl or boy into the grounds,” said Phyllis quietly.

“I will talk to her myself about this,” said Miss Davis; “pray attend to your studies.”

Miss Davis on reflection thought Phyllis might be right, and that having made acquaintance with some young companion in Mrs. Kane’s cottage, Hetty might have been induced to admit her or him to the grounds so as to give pleasure.  She knew how strongly the child was influenced by her likings and lovings, and feared that this might be the case of Scamp over again, with the important difference that Hetty was now a girl in her twelfth year, and that her new favourite might prove to be a human being instead of a dog.

The next day Hetty was seriously ill.  She had caught a severe cold and lay tossing feverishly in her bed.  Miss Davis came up to see her in the afternoon and sat at her bedside for half an hour.

“Hetty,” she said, “I fear you must have been very foolish yesterday, and that your cold is the consequence.  Now that we are alone I expect you will tell me exactly all that you did.”

“I can’t indeed, Miss Davis.”

“You disappoint me exceedingly.  I had been thinking so much better of you; I conclude you were not alone yesterday.”

“Not all the time, but most of it.”

“Who was with you when you were not alone?”