With the wonderful powers of recuperation which natures like Molly’s have, on Sunday morning she was up and dressed, almost dancing about her room in the infirmary, long before it was time for Dr. McLean to call and grant her permission to leave.

It was good to be up and well again; it was good to be at college, for she had been homesick for Wellington since she had been shut up in the hospital, and better still, it was good to have friends, such friends as she had.

As for the emerald ring—a shadow darkened her face. The thought of the emerald ring would push its way into her mind.

“I believe it will come out all right,” she said to herself. “I believe it—I believe it! I couldn’t help losing it, and if it isn’t found, I can’t help that, either. I just won’t be miserable, that’s all. I feel too happy and too well.”

“Are you at home to visitors this morning, Miss Brown?” asked a sharp unmusical voice at the door.

“Oh, yes; do come in,” answered Molly, rising to meet Miss Steel, who had walked up the uncarpeted steps and along the echoing corridor without making a sound, as usual.

Molly’s manners were unfailingly cordial to visitors, and when she shook hands with Miss Steel and insisted on making her take the armchair, that flint-like person visibly softened a little and faintly smiled. Molly wondered why the sanitary inspector had called on her, but she appreciated attentions from anybody and was as grateful for being popular as if it were something entirely new and strange to her.

She showed Miss Steel her flowers and pinned a lovely pink rose on the inspector’s granite-colored cloth coat. She made light of her illness, and rejoiced that she was returning in a few hours to dear old Queen’s. She was, in fact, so wonderfully sweet and charming that Sunday morning that it must have been very difficult even for the stony inspector to touch on the real business of her visit.

At last, however, Miss Steel buckled on her armor of decision, averted her eyes for a moment from Molly’s glowing face and plunged in.

“I don’t suppose, Miss Brown, you suspected my title of ‘Dormitory Inspector’ here was merely a nominal one, and that I had another motive in being at Wellington College?”

Molly hardly liked to tell her that they had long considered her a spy and detested her for that reason. She said nothing, therefore, and sat in her favorite position when listening intently with her hands clasping one knee and her shoulders drooping; a very wrong position indeed, considering that it would eventually make her round-shouldered and hollow chested; but Molly was never more graceful or comfortable than when she adopted this unhealthful attitude.

“I am an inspector,” went on the other, “but I am an inspector of police, that is, a detective. Doubtless you have heard of certain mysterious things that have happened at Wellington this autumn; the attempt to burn the gymnasium, which we now believe was only a practical joke to frighten the sophomore class; the cutting of the electric wires one night, and there are a few other things you have not heard; for instance, Miss Walker has received lately several anonymous letters—two of them about you——”

Molly started.

“About me?” she exclaimed.

“Yes,” said Miss Steel, watching her closely. “But they were not disagreeable letters, strange to say, since anonymous letters usually are. They expressed the most ardent admiration for you. They mentioned that you had enemies who were trying to ruin your reputation.”

“How absurd!” exclaimed Molly indignantly. She detested anything deceitful and underhand with all her soul. “When did these letters come?”

“Just since you have been at the Infirmary.”

“They must be about the emerald ring,” broke in Molly.

“Exactly,” answered the inspector. “You have lost a valuable emerald ring belonging to another girl who is making it disagreeable for you.”

“But I didn’t want to take care of her ring,” protested Molly. “She insisted on it. It was too big for my finger, and when I fainted it must have slipped off. I’ve done everything I could to find it, but she needn’t worry. She’ll be paid for it, if two acres of good apple orchard that were to have paid my college expenses have to go.”

“Nonsense, child!” exclaimed Miss Steel, suddenly melting into a human being. “I’m going to find that ring for you if it takes the rest of this winter.”

Molly seized her hand joyfully. By one of those swift flashes of insight which come to us when we least expect them, it was revealed to Molly that she had made a friend of the inspector.

“I have been here almost a month,” continued Miss Steel, giving the girl’s hand a little vicelike squeeze, which was her way of expressing cordiality, “and I have found out a great many things. A girls’ college is a strange place. There is a good deal of wire-pulling and petty jealousy among a certain class of girls, and yet I have reason to know that the code of honor here is exceedingly high, and I find myself growing more and more interested in the girls and their lives. Nowhere but in college could such devoted friendships be formed. They are elevating and fine, especially for selfish girls, who learn how to be unselfish by example. The girls develop each other. Your G.F. Society, for instance, has had a remarkably refining and, shall I say, quieting effect on Miss Andrews——”

Molly started. She was amazed at the inspector’s insight into the college life.

“Which brings me to the point I have been aiming to reach. Since I have been here I have taken pains to learn the history of Miss Andrews as well as to study her character. She is a strange girl. Doubtless you know the incident of last year?”

Molly shook her head.

“To begin at the beginning: Miss Andrews’ parents were rather strange people. Her father is a city politician who never made any secret of his grafting methods. Her mother was an actress and is dead. Frances hadn’t been brought up to any code of honor. She had been allowed to do as she chose, and had all the money she wanted to spend. If she is vulgar and pretentious, it isn’t really her fault. Last year she offended her class by telling a falsehood. She was under honor, according to the custom here when a student leaves the premises, to be back from some visit by ten o’clock Sunday night. She missed the ten o’clock train and took the train which arrived at midnight. However, as luck would have it, the ten o’clock train was delayed by a washout and drew into Wellington station just in front of the train Frances was on. She, of course, found this out immediately, and taking advantage of it, she gave out that she had been on the earlier train, which saved all unnecessary explanations. It must have been a great temptation for a girl brought up as she had been. But truth always comes to the top, sooner or later, and as the President of her own class happened to have been on the earlier train, she was found out. She was summoned by the Student Council, tried and found guilty. Then she was treated, I imagine, something in the same way that a French soldier is expelled from the army. Figuratively speaking, her sword was broken and her epaulettes torn from her uniform!”

“How terrible!” exclaimed Molly.

“Yes; it was pretty severe. But she was very defiant, and said dreadful things, denounced her class and college. Few girls would have had the courage to return to college next year, but she came back, hoping to live her dishonor down, and when she found her class to a member ignored her very existence, she became almost insane with bitterness and rage, and having studied her character closely, I judge that for a while, until your secret society took her in hand, she was hardly responsible for her actions.

“Now, Miss Walker is very sorry for Frances Andrews; but she considers her a dangerous element in college, and at mid-years she would like some definite reason for asking her not to come back. I am speaking plainly, because Miss Walker is convinced that you know a definite reason and through some mistaken idea of kindness, you keep it to yourself. In fact, Miss Brown, Miss Walker is convinced that you and you alone saw Frances Andrews cut the wires in the gymnasium that night.”

“But I didn’t,” cried Molly, much excited; “or, rather, it wasn’t Miss Andrews.”

Miss Steel looked at her in surprise, so sure was she that Molly would confirm her suspicions.

Molly sat down again and clasped her knees with her long arms. Her cheeks were crimson and her eyes blazing.

“Who was it, then?” asked the inspector.

“I can’t tell you that, Miss Steel. If I should give you the girl’s name I should be dishonored all my life. I have been brought up to believe that the one who tells is as low as the one who did the deed. When we were children, my mother would never listen to a telltale. I do think it was a wicked, mischievous thing to have done—a contemptible thing; but I’d rather you found out the name of the girl in some other way than through me, especially right now——”

“Why right now?”

But Molly would not reply.

Miss Steel could see nothing but truth in the depths of Molly’s troubled blue eyes. She took the girl’s hand in her’s and looked at her gravely.

“You are a fine girl, Miss Brown,” she said, “and if you tell me that the girl who cut the wires was not Miss Andrews, I believe you implicitly. Of course, Miss Walker would never tell Miss Andrews not to return to Wellington without something very definite and tangible on which to base her dismissal. Luke Andrews, the girl’s father, is as hot-headed and high tempered as his daughter, and he would probably make a great deal of trouble and cause a great deal of publicity if Frances were asked to leave college quietly.”

“I’m sorry for her,” said Molly. “I think she might have been helped if she had had just a little more time. After all, the worse thing about her is her bringing up.”

“And this other girl whom you are shielding, Miss Brown, does she deserve so much generosity from you?”

Molly closed her lips firmly.

“That isn’t the question with me, Miss Steel,” she said at last. “The question is: could I ever show my face again if I told.”

“But no one need ever know, that is, no one but the President and me.”

“You don’t understand,” said Molly wearily. “It’s with me, you see. I could never be on comfortable terms with myself again. I should always be thinking that I hadn’t behaved—well, like a gentleman.”

Then the inspector did a most surprising thing. She went over and kissed Molly.

“I wouldn’t for worlds keep you from being true to yourself, my child,” she exclaimed. “It’s a rare quality, and one which will make you devoted friends all your life, because people will always know they can trust you.”

Molly looked at the inspector, and lo and behold, a strange transformation had taken place in that inscrutable, expressionless face. The cold gray eyes were softened by a mist of tears and the thin lips were actually quivering. She looked almost beautiful at that moment, and Molly suddenly put her arms around her neck and laid her head on the flat, hard chest.

“You’ll forgive me, won’t you, Miss Steel?”

“I will, indeed, dear,” answered the other, patting Molly’s cheek. “And now, don’t bother about all this business. Get well and strong. Don’t overwork, and I promise to find that ring for you if I have to turn the college upside down to do it.”

Then she gave Molly a warm, motherly squeeze, kissed her on the forehead and took her departure as quietly as she had come.