“Girls of the Great Shirley School,” she said, “your head-mistress, Miss Ravenscroft, has conveyed to you a message from me and from the other governors.  The message is to the effect that if those silly girls who have allied themselves to that most ridiculous society, the Wild Irish Girls, will give the name of their leader, they shall be forgiven.  Do you accept, foundationers, or do you decline?”

Dead silence ensued.

“I presume,” said Miss Mackenzie after a pause of a full minute, “that your silence means refusal I have therefore to turn to a certain young girl in this school who was a member of the Wild Irish Girls’ Society, and who has now left it.—­Ruth Craven, have the goodness to step forward.”

Ruth had been seated in the fourth bench.  She rose slowly.  Kathleen felt a curious tremor run through her, but she did not move a muscle; only when Ruth appeared at the edge of the platform, it was with the greatest effort she could keep herself from jumping up, taking her hand, and mounting the platform by her side.

“Step up here, Miss Craven,” said Miss Mackenzie.

Ruth did so.

“Will you have the goodness to stand just here, Miss Craven?”

Ruth went to the place indicated.

“You can now face me, and your schoolfellows can also see you.—­Girls, I have requested Ruth Craven to take the prominent position she now occupies in order that you may all see her.  You all know her, do you not?  Those who know Ruth Craven, hold up their hands.”

Immediately there was a great show of uplifted hands.

“I presume that you all like her?”

Again the hands went up, and Kathleen’s was raised the highest of all.  Ruth’s little face, however, remained perfectly white and still; only her eyes were dark with emotion.  She kept thinking of her father.

“I should like that which would make me give my life if necessary,” he had said; and her grandfather had said, “Sometimes when you come out on the right side of the ledger it means giving all that you possess.”

Ruth could scarcely see the faces which rose up like a great ocean beneath her, but she remembered her father’s words very distinctly.

“You all see Ruth Craven,” continued Miss Mackenzie.  “As far as I know, she is a good girl; and I judge by your method of answering my question that she is a popular girl.  I know, alas! that she is poor.  I have heard a great deal about her intellectual endowments, and believe that this school could be of immense advantage to her.  I believe, in short, that she is the typical sort of girl of whom the founders thought when they instituted this great and noble house of learning.  Nevertheless, Ruth Craven must fall if necessary for the good of the many.—­Ruth, I wish to ask you a certain question.  You were a member of that rebellious society, the Wild Irish Girls?”

“Yes, Miss Mackenzie.”