Love is Triumphant Read Online Free Page B

to conceal it in her sleeve, before Miss Baxter arrived with several other mistresses behind her.
    "Great heavens! What has happened?" she cried.
    "There has been a terrible accident," Rosina said calmly. It was strange how calm she could be now that she had made her decision. "Miss Draycott fell from her balcony. Someone should send for a doctor."
    Nobody seemed to find it strange that she should be giving orders. At that moment there was a natural authority about her, and Miss Baxter immediately did as she suggested.
    Rosina looked down at her night-dress, now stained with blood.
    "I'll go and get changed," she said.
    She sped away before anyone could ask her questions. Upstairs she hurried to Miss Draycott's room and went straight to the drawer in her dressing-table where she had kept Arthur Woodward's letters.
    There they still were, wrapped up in blue ribbon. And there were the few trifling little gifts he had given her, and which she had treasured so much. Rosina seized them all.
    There was one last thing to do. Beside the bed she found Miss Draycott's purse where she had kept her beloved Arthur's picture. Going through it swiftly, Rosina found the picture and removed it.
    At the door she stopped and looked back at the room where she had known so many happy times.
    "I've done my best for you," she whispered.
    There was the noise of someone approaching. Quickly Rosina closed the door and returned to her own room. There she hid everything in her wardrobe, until she could find a better place. Nobody would be allowed to find those pathetic remnants of her friend's life. Her reputation would remain intact.
    "It's the last thing I can do for her," she said fervently. "She also asked me to protect his reputation. I wonder if I'll be able to force myself to do that."
    But the next moment she told herself,
    "Of course I can do it. I promised her. I said that I was her friend, and that's what I will be. Whatever it takes."
    She changed out of her night dress into the plainest day clothes she possessed. Then she drew her hair back severely against her head, and tied it in place.
    The person who looked back at her from the mirror was a stranger to her, no longer a school girl but a bitter, angry woman, driven by grim determination.
    From the window she looked down at the stones below. A doctor had arrived and Miss Draycott's body was being lifted and carried away.
    Taking a deep breath, Rosina left her room and went downstairs to where the Headmistress was standing, distraught.
    "The doctor has just pronounced Miss Draycott dead," she wept.
    "I know," Rosina said. "She was dead before I left her."
    "Ah yes, you were there first to reach her, weren't you? But how?"
    "I was taking a little fresh air in the garden. I saw everything."
    "You saw her fall?" Miss Baxter asked eagerly. "It was an accident, wasn't it?"
    "Yes, it was an accident," Rosina replied quietly. "She cried out and tried to save herself, but was unable to do so."
    "Thank heavens!" Miss Baxter declared fervently. "I mean that it was an accident. A scandal would be so terrible for the school."
    "And for poor Miss Draycott," Rosina reminded her coldly. "Think of her reputation."
    "She is dead and cannot be harmed now. People would never forget a scandal, but, with luck, they will forget Miss Draycott."
    She hurried away, full of agitation, leaving Rosina standing there.
    'I will not forget her', she thought. 'Ever. And I will avenge her. I don't know how, but I swear that I will.'
    A noise outside drew her to the window just in time to see a rider galloping out of the school grounds. She threw herself onto her bed and lay listening.
    Presently there were footsteps outside and the door of Miss Draycott's room was opening. Somebody was going inside to look for clues to the tragedy.
    'But you won't find any,' Rosina thought exultantly. 'At least I have protected her that much.'
    But she knew that was all she could do for the poor heart-broken woman.
    As that realisation