Rosamund took him into one of the sitting-rooms. She closed the door behind them and bolted it.
"Because I am not sure of things. I want to take you into my confidence, and I don't want any one to hear."
"Well, Miss Cunliffe, you must be brief."
"First of all, may I ask you what you think of little Agnes? Is she in danger?"
"Is she so much in danger that she is likely to die?"
"Unless she gets better soon, unless the strange pressure on her brain is removed, she will die," said the doctor. "The shock has been much more severe than any one could have believed possible, even from such an ugly thing occurring. But, be that as it may, she is in extreme danger of her life."
"Then you don't want to say anything more?"
"I will come in again to-night. The child's case is interesting. She is a dear little creature."
The doctor went away, and Rosamund entered the schoolroom. The girls were trying to perform their usual tasks. Irene was bending over a history-book. There was such a sadness now pervading the house, such a necessary stillness, that all life seemed to have gone out of it. The wintry weather continued, and it was as gloomy outside as in. Miss Archer was in vain explaining a rather interesting point in English history, to which no one was attending much, when Rosamund entered the room. All the girls seemed to feel that she had news.
She had. She marched up to the top of the room and stood there. Irene only raised her head; but Lucy, who was pale and had black shadows under her eyes, and Phyllis Flower, who had certainly looked far from well for the last fortnight, glanced at her with considerable interest.
"I have something to say," said Rosamund.
There was a dead silence for a moment; then Miss Archer said, "I am giving my history lecture, my dear."
"You will postpone it, for life--human life--is more precious than facts in old history," said Rosamund.
"Certainly, my dear," said Miss Archer in quite a meek voice; and she sat down and prepared to listen with as much interest as the others.
"It is this," said Rosamund. "Little Agnes Frost--I have just seen the doctor--is most dangerously ill." Phyllis Flower gave a gasp. "I won't go into the particulars of her illness; but the doctor says that unless a certain load of terror can be immediately removed from her mind she will die. Yes, she will die. Now, girls, it is quite plain to me, as it is doubtless to all of you, that a most cruel practical joke was played on little Agnes. Some people can stand practical jokes; some people cannot. But those who are cruel enough to exercise them upon little children are really too contemptible even to be spoken about. I wish this girl or that girl joy who knows that she may be the cause of the death of so sweet a child as Agnes Frost."