“I will hear her out.  I must hear the thing out,” she kept saying to herself.  “Afterwards—­afterwards—­But I must hear the whole thing out.”

Miss Mackenzie turned, and in a very emphatic voice began to question.

“You are prepared to reply to the following questions?” she said.

Ruth’s very steady eyes were raised; she fixed them on Miss Mackenzie.  Her lips were firmly shut.  Nothing could be quieter than her attitude; she did not show a trace of emotion.  Always pale, she looked a little paler now than her wont.  Her darks eyes seemed to darken and grow full of intense emotion; otherwise no one could have told that she was suffering or feeling anything in particular.

“But I know what she is going through,” thought Kathleen.  She clenched her hands so tightly that the nails went into the delicate flesh.  She was glad of the pain; it kept her from screaming aloud.

“The first question I have to ask,” said Miss Mackenzie, “is this:  How many of the foundation girls have joined the rebels?”

Ruth came a step nearer.

“How many?  I can’t quite hear you.”

“I am sorry,” said Ruth then, “but I can’t tell you.”

Miss Mackenzie, without any show of emotion, immediately entered Ruth’s answer in a little book which she held in her hand.

“Oh, don’t, Miss Mackenzie!  Don’t be harsh,” gasped little Mrs. Naylor.

Miss Mackenzie, as though she had not heard the voice of her sister governor, proceeded: 

“What is the name of the founder of the society?”

“I am not prepared to say,” replied Ruth.

Again this answer was recorded.

“Can you give me an exact account of the rules of the society, its motives, its bearing generally?”

The same negative reply was the result of this question.

“Do you know anything whatever of the disgraceful escapade which took place last night, when a certain number of the members of this society went to London and returned by themselves at midnight?”

Ruth’s face cleared a little at this question.

“I cannot answer because I know nothing,” she said.

A slight look of relief was visible on the faces of the unfortunate girls who had gone to town with Kathleen on the preceding night.  A few more questions were asked, Ruth replying on every occasion in the negative.  “I can’t say,” or “I will not say,” were the only words that were wrung from her lips.

“In short,” said Miss Mackenzie very quietly, “you have decided, Ruth Craven—­you, an ignorant, silly little girl—­to defy the governors of this school.  All justice has been dealt out to you, and all patience.  The consequence of your mad action has been explained to you with the utmost fullness.  You have been given time—­abundant time—­to consider.  You have chosen, from what false motives it is impossible to say—­”

“My dear,” interrupted Mrs. Naylor, “the child means well, I am assured.”