"Of course, she let her overdo herself!" cried Henrietta triumphantly. "But you coached her too--didn't you notice either?"
"I coach the whole class. You know how busy I am. I'm afraid I left Louise a good deal to Alwynne," said Clare regretfully.
"But she's supposed to be grown up--an asset to the school, according to Miss Marsham," said Henrietta tartly. "But, I must say, if she couldn't see that the child was doing too much, she's not fit to teach----"
"Oh, my dear!" cried Clare, distressed. "You mustn't say such things. You've no idea how conscientious Alwynne is. She may have worked Louise too hard--but with the best intentions. She would be heartbroken if you suggested it."
"Oh, you are always very lenient to Miss Durand," began Henrietta, with a touch of jealousy.
"Ah! She's so young! So full of the zeal of youth. Besides, I'm very fond of her." Clare's smile took Henrietta into her confidence--confessed to an amiable weakness.
"Oh, Miss Hartill, you talk of my common sense. I wish--I wish you could see Miss Durand from my point of view for a moment." She eyed Clare, attentive and plastic in her shadows, and took courage. "This--appalling--probability----"
"Oh, but it seems terribly probable to me--only carries on my idea of Miss Durand. She is so ignorant--so inexperienced--so undisciplined--she cannot possibly have a good influence on young children----"
"She is my friend!" Clare reminded her, with gentle dignity.
"And if your suspicions are correct--if Louise's death were not accidental--if it had anything to do with her state of mind--if it were the effect of overwork--I consider--I must consider Miss Durand in some measure responsible. I feel that Miss Marsham should be told."
Clare shook her head. Her solemn, candid eyes abashed Henrietta.
"Miss Vigers--we are speaking in confidence. I should never forgive myself if anything I've said to you were repeated."
"Of course, of course!" Henrietta appeased her hastily. "But I've had my own suspicions--oh, for a long time, I assure you. I've not been blind. And I might feel it my duty--on my account, you understand--after all Miss Marsham depends on me implicitly--to speak to her--for the sake of the school----"
"That, of course--I can't prevent. But Miss Vigers--forgive me--but--don't let your sense of responsibility make you unfair. And for heaven's sake, don't let my vague uneasiness--it's really nothing more--affect your judgment. We may both be utterly mistaken. I am sure the result of the inquest will prove us mistaken after all--it will be found to have been an accident."
