“She—­ she hasn’t accused me, exactly,” returned the suffering girl.  “But she intimated that I must have taken the ring, so it’s just as bad.”

“What does the seminary management have to say about it?” asked Sam.

“They seem to think it lies between Nellie and the teacher,” answered Grace.

“In that case, how do we know the teacher didn’t take the ring herself?” broke in Tom, quickly.

“Oh, do you think that possible?” questioned Nellie, in surprise.

“It’s more reasonable to think she took it than you did.  Anyway, she hasn’t any right to accuse you,” went on Tom, bluntly.

“As I said, Tom, she hasn’t accused me—­ that is, openly; but I know what she thinks, and I know what she will make others think,” returned Nellie.  And now she showed signs of bursting into tears again.  “Oh, I feel as if I must pack up and go home!”

“Don’t you do it, Nellie.  That would make it look as if you were guilty.  You stay here and face the music.”  Then, as Nellie began to cry again, Tom took her in his arms and held her tightly.

“Come on!” said Sam, in a low tone of voice.  “I think some people at the window are listening.”  And he led the way to a distant portion of the seminary grounds.  After that, Grace told all she knew of the miserable affair, and Nellie related just how she had seen the diamond ring on the teacher’s desk.

“Was the window open at the time?” questioned the older Rover boy.

“If I remember rightly, the window was tight shut,” replied Nellie.

“Yes, it was shut when I was in the office,” put in Grace.  “I have been trying to think out some way by which the ring could have disappeared, but without success.”

The matter was talked over for some time, and then the girls questioned the boys regarding the happening at the broken bridge.  Nellie, and Grace also, wanted to know the latest news from Dick and Dora.

“So far as I know, Dora is in fine health and enjoying herself in the city,” said Tom.  “But Dick is having his hands full, and I rather think that, sooner or later, I’ll have to pack up and go to his assistance.”

“Then you’ll leave Brill for good?” questioned Nellie.

“I think so.  I can’t be breaking in on my college course every now and then as I have been doing, and pass my examinations.  More than that, I begin to believe that I was not cut out for a college man.  I am like Dick; I prefer a business career rather than a professional one.  It is Sam who is going to make the learned one of the family.”

“Oh, come now, Tom!  Don’t pile it on!” pleaded the younger brother.  And yet he looked greatly pleased; and Grace looked pleased, too.

“But if you leave Brill, you won’t be able to get here very often, Tom,” remarked Nellie, wistfully.

“That is true.  But if I have to go to New York, why can’t you go, too?”

“Oh, Tom!”