“No, no,” said Cassandra.  “You are always in such a fidget to learn, Ruth.  Come into the garden; I want to talk to you.”

Ruth looked full round at her companion.  She saw something in Cassandra’s eye which made her slightly shiver.  Then she said: 

“Very well.”

Cassandra opened the little gate which led into the tiny fruit and vegetable garden.  There was a narrow path, bordered on each side with a box-hedge, down which the girls walked.  Presently Cassandra slipped her arm round Ruth’s waist.

“You knew, of course,” she said, “how much I love you.”

“You are awfully good to me, Cassie.”

“As a rule I am not fond of what schoolgirls call falling in love,” continued Cassandra; “but I love you.  There is nothing I wouldn’t do for you.”

“Thank you,” said Ruth again.

She wondered what Cassandra would say on Saturday.  Surely after Saturday no girl who belonged to the Great Shirley School would like to speak to her.

“Now I want to tell you something,” continued Cassandra.  “I saw Miss Ravenscroft this morning.  She told me about you and your position with the governors.”

“Oh, need we talk of that?” said Ruth coloring, stopping in her walk, and turning to face Cassandra.

“Why shouldn’t we?  I wish you would tell me everything.  Why are you going to be so obstinate?  But of course you won’t be.  You will—­you must—­change your mind.  She told me—­Miss Ravenscroft did—­because she likes you, Ruth, and she would be so terribly sorry if you got into trouble over this matter.  She said you are certain to get into most serious, terrible trouble, for the governors will on no account depart from their firm resolve to expel you from the school.  You will have defied their authority, and that is what they cannot permit.  It is on that ground they will expel you, but it is strong enough; no one can suppose for a moment that they are acting with injustice.”

“I am glad it is on that ground,” said Ruth softly.

“Then of course you will be wise, Ruth.  It is silly and quixotic, for the sake of a girl like Kathleen O’Hara, to ruin all your own prospects.”

“It is scarcely that—­and yet it is that,” said Ruth slowly.  “It is because I will not be a traitor,” she added, lowering her voice, then flinging up her head and gazing proudly before her.

“I knew you were quixotic.  I knew that was at the bottom of it,” said Cassandra.  “But you will think it over, Ruth.  It would be too terrible to see you denounced in the presence of the whole school, and sent out of the school for ever.  Think of losing your scholarship.  Think of the help you want to give your grandparents.  Think of your own future.”

“I think of them all,” said Ruth; “but I also think of what father would have said if he were alive.  You see Cassandra, before all things he was a gentleman.”

Cassandra started.  She looked full at Ruth.