She was holding
herself well in hand, yet when she spoke there was a slight quaver in her
voice. She was not a girl given to tears.
"I don't care for the 'honor' so much," Harriet said, "but I just can't
stand it to have the girls believing deep down in their hearts that I
could have done that awful thing. They will say it; at least some of them
will."
"I dare them to!" flamed Jane. "Just let me hear them. Oh, just let me
hear one girl saying a word about Harriet Burrell. Oh!"
"I don't want you to mix in this trouble at all, Jane," objected Harriet.
"It is bad enough as it is. If I could find out who the guilty one is----"
"What would you do if you did find out?" demanded Jane.
"I don't know. Nothing I suppose," returned Harriet with a wan smile.
"That's just it. You've got to fight if you don't want to get walked on in
this world. My dad says so. He's a fighter, he is, little one, and he has
a daughter who can take her own part and half a dozen other people's
besides. My sleeves will be rolled up all the time after this. You watch
me get into action when I discover the girl, and----"
"I think you had better leave all that to me, Miss McCarthy," advised a
voice at the door of the tent.
At the first sound of the voice Harriet thought either Patricia or Cora
had come in.
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