Mrs Drummond drove over from Edinburgh in a luxurious motor-car and took her daughter away, promising to send her back to the school on the following Monday morning.
Margaret devotedly loved her mother, and was not long in her presence before the entire story of the ghost and her part therein was revealed. Mrs Drummond was a most severe Calvinist, a puritan of the narrowest type. She was shocked beyond measure with her daughter's narrative. She sat down at once and read her a long chapter out of the Holy Book on all liars and their awful fate.
Margaret shivered as she listened to her mother's words.
'My dear,' said Mrs Drummond, 'if you do not confess and get that wicked Hollyhock--what a name!--into the trouble she deserves, you have your share with those of whom I'm reading. I'll come with you on Monday morning, and you 'll stand up in front of the entire school and tell what you and Hollyhock did. Mrs Macintyre will lose her school if such a thing is allowed.'
'But, oh, mother, I do love Hollyhock. Is there no other way out?'
'Having sinned,' said Mrs Drummond, 'you must repent. Having done the wicked thing, you must tell of it. Mrs Macintyre will be very shocked, but I think nothing of that. It is my lassie I have to think of. It was Providence sent me to fetch you home to-day! There's no other way out. Confession--full confession--is the only course. You must stand up and do your part, and that wicked girl will as likely as not be expelled.'
Hollyhock did not exactly know how she felt during that visit to the dearly beloved old Garden. Besides the unwelcome presence of Aunt Agnes, there was a fear over her which was wholly and completely moral, for Hollyhock had, as may well be remarked, no physical fear whatsoever. She was the sort of girl, however, to keep even moral fears to herself, and she returned to the Palace of the Kings on Monday morning, hoping for the best. So far everything seemed to be all right.
Leucha rushed to her friend, clasped her and kissed her, said how deeply she had missed her, and how she had longed beyond words during the latter half of Saturday and on Sunday for Hollyhock's return.
Meg, then, had been better than Hollyhock expected. When all was said and done, Meg was good and true. Hollyhock made up her mind to be specially good to Meg in future, to compensate her for her late neglect--in short, to soothe her ruffled feelings and to feel for her that love and admiration which the Scots girl had given to her in the past. But where was Meg?