“Do you want me this afternoon, Mother?” asked Cecilia Norbury as they sat at lunch. “If not, I thought I’d go and see my godfather. As I’m returning to St. Dorothy’s next week, it may be the last opportunity I shall have.”

“An excellent idea, Cecil. I have to go to a Mothers’ Union meeting, and so you would have had to amuse yourself alone in any case.”

“Good! Then I’ll set off directly after lunch and walk through the woods. Don’t worry if I’m late getting back, for I always find it difficult to tear myself away.”

“I’ll not worry, child. Stay as long as you like, and enjoy yourself. I am glad you like going to Treetops; so few people understand or appreciate your godfather. Frankly, I don’t, but I’m glad for his sake that you do. He must often be lonely, for there are so few things blind people can do to amuse themselves.”

“I don’t think he is often bored,” said Cecilia, thoughtfully. “You see, he still has his music, and that means everything to him.”

“I know. That was why your father called you Cecilia,” explained Mrs. Norbury, as though she had never told her daughter the reason for her Christian name before. “I much prefer Cecil; don’t you?”

“From you, darling, yes,” replied Cecilia, quickly. She did not, however, add how much she liked to hear her godfather call her Cecilia.

As she walked up the shady drive leading to Tree-tops, Cecilia looked very grave. Now that she was nearly at her journey’s end, she almost wished she had not come. She wanted to ask her godfather’s advice, and yet she dreaded telling him the whole story. She knew he would understand and help her, yet, all the same, she wished she could shirk the task ahead of her. As though fearing she might turn tail and run, she hurried up the steps and quickly rang the front-door bell. A moment later it was opened by Sir Lawrence Haversham’s man-servant.

“Hello, Clarkson! Is Sir Lawrence- out in the grounds or in his study, please?”

“He’s in, Miss Cecilia,” replied the man, with a little smile. “If I may say so, miss, I’m glad to see you. The master needs cheering up, and you’re the very one to do it.”

“He’s not ill, is he?” questioned Cecilia, anxiously.

“Oh, no, miss—just a bit down. No one else would notice it, perhaps, but me. You see, I know his little ups and downs better than he does himself. When he barks at me in his best parade style, he’s feeling fit, but when he’s gentle like and quiet, I’m anxious. ‘Tisn’t ‘im, miss, if you know what I mean.”

“I do know, Clarkson, and I understand. Don’t bother to announce me, I’ll just creep in. Then if Sir Lawrence is asleep I can wait for him to wake; if not, we can talk or perhaps have some music.”

“It’s music ‘e’s wantin’, miss, that’s what ‘tis. Hasn’t touched the piano for days. That’s always a bad sign. Get ‘im to play, miss, and he’ll be all right.”

“I’ll try,” Cecilia promised, and she tiptoed along the passage to the study. Silently she opened the heavy door, and stepped noiselessly into the room, closing it behind her.

“Come in, Cecilia. I am so glad you have come to see me,” said Sir Lawrence, before she had had time to look at him. “I’m in need of a visit from someone like you, my dear.”

“Godfather, it’s lovely to be with you,” cried Cecilia, happily, and she ran lightly across the room to kiss him. “I couldn’t go back to St. D’s without coming over.”

“Of course not. When do you return?”

“Next Tuesday.”

“And are you sorry?”

“Y-yes, in a way.”

“Go and sit in your favourite chair and tell me all about it,” said Sir Lawrence. “Pull your chair close to mine so that I can touch your hair. You know I like to do that.”

Cecilia laughed and did as she was told.

“Are you feeling awfully strong and happy and wise, Godfather?” she asked, unexpectedly.

“Why?”

“Because my story isn’t a pleasant one, and you may feel disappointed in your Cecilia.”

“Try me and see,” advised Sir Lawrence, gently. “I’ve felt like a father to you, child, ever since your father died. If I can help with understanding, sympathy, and advice, I will.”

“I know, but I can’t make up my mind where to begin,” Cecilia said, in a low voice. “I don’t want to excuse myself, and yet . . .“

She paused, but Sir Lawrence did not speak, and she went on.

“I suppose I’m a normal enough person in most ways, but I’m abnormally shy and sensitive, and stupidly nervous if suddenly questioned. It all happened soon after I arrived at St. D’s. I had borrowed someone’s book because I could not understand how to work out a problem and was too shy to ask to have it explained. Then there was a big row about borrowing books. And everyone who had done so was told to stand up. No me else did, and so I sat still, too scared to own up. Miss Frampton, our form mistress, came round the room examining every desk, and Nadine’s book was found in mine. Naturally no one understood, and they all thought me a cheat and a liar. They—they call me ‘Lia the liar’, now.”

She stopped as her voice broke.

“What did you say and do?”

“N-nothing. What can I say or do that will alter things? I’m a sort of outcast, and it’s horrible. I hate school.”

“Didn’t you try to defend yourself?”

“How could I? What was there I could say?”

You mean you just let them think you guilty and said nothing?”

“Y-yes.”

“Hmph. Well, there is only one thing to be done, as far as I can see. When you get back to St. Dorothy’s, go to Miss Frampton and tell her what you have just told me. If she has the insight and understanding every Mistress should have, she’ll realise that you are neither a cheat nor an intentional liar. Then you must tell this Nadine and the other girls and leave them to judge you in the light of this fresh knowledge. Don’t be a coward, child. Face the thing squarely, tell them the whole truth, then prepare to live it down and forget. It’s the only way to happiness.”

“But if they don’t believe me?”

“Why shouldn’t they? I do.”

“Yes, you do, but you’re different. You know me and realise I’m not an utter rotter.”

“It’s up to you to let your schoolfellows know you and find out what you really are. Now shall we have some music?”

“Oh, please, Godfather. Play me something soothing first, and then brace me with something heroic.”

Sir Lawrence laughed. “I will,” he promised, walking without hesitation to the piano and beginning to play a lullaby of Schubert’s, which was followed by a most spirited Chopin polonaise.

WHEN Cecilia reached St. Dorothy’s the next Tuesday, her godfather’s words were ringing in her ears. He was right, of course. It was up to her to let her school fellows know what she really was. She had silently borne their accusations long enough; now she must tackle them about it and then try to live it down. She felt that Nadine might understand, she had never been actively unkind, but some of the Fourth, headed by Emily Ware, would continue to condemn her and call her Lia, an abbreviation she hated. Cecilia decided to speak to her form mistress before her courage ebbed.

She marched along to Miss Frampton’s study directly Matron had finished with her. The mistress looked faintly surprised when Cecilia entered the room, but she merely asked quietly: “You wish to speak to me about something’, Cecilia?”

“Please, Miss Frampton. if you are not too busy. I —I want to tell you something and ask your advice.”

“I can always make time for those who need me,” aid the mistress, pleasantly. “Come and sit down and tell me what is worrying you.”

“It’s about the trouble at the beginning of last term, Miss Frampton,” Cecilia began diffidently. “My godfather told me I ought to tell you everything and I realise that he is right. I shall never be happy at this school while I am labelled ‘Lia, the liar.”

Miss Frampton nodded thoughtfully, but she did not speak.

“I had no intention of cheating last term, Miss Frampton, and I just borrowed Nadine’s book to look at some back work and try to find out what methods you preferred us to use. Then you questioned us, and I was too scared to stand up and speak before all the rest. I intended coming to you afterwards and owning up, but you came and examined our desks and I couldn’t. I was too frightened to tell you this at the time, but Godfather said you’d understand if I told you everything now.”

Cecilia paused, and Miss Frampton nodded again, even more thoughtfully.

“I do understand, Cecilia, though I wish you had told me at the time. Since I’ve grown to know you better, I’ve suspected something of the sort was at the root of that unfortunate business. Shy people often find it physically impossible to do some quite simple thing, and much misunderstanding arises through their inability to speak or act. What do you intend to do now?”

“I thought I’d tell the girls what I’ve just told you, Miss Frampton. Surely most of them would understand. I’ll hate doing it, but my godfather assures me that it is the only way.”

“I am sure he is right, Cecilia,” agreed the mistress. “You will not regret your decision. Once you have found the courage to tell them the truth, you will find it easier to speak and act.”

“Thank you, Miss Frampton. I’m so glad you understand and forgive me.”

“Of course I do, Cecilia, and I know you won’t let me down or betray my trust.”

“I won’t, Miss Frampton, really I won’t.”

Cheered by the way the mistress had received her explanation, Cecilia went off to the common-room to tell her story once more. As she entered to find it crowded with girls, her spirits sank and she felt a wave of her old nervousness engulfing her, but she bravely fought it back and hurried across to where Nadine Chesman, the Fourth form captain, was talking to her friend, Selina Parsons.

“Nadine, there’s something I have to tell you—you and all the Fourth, and I’d like to do it now.”

There was something in Cecilia’s expression that made Nadine act quickly if not seriously.

“All right, old thing, I’ll tell ‘em to be quiet,” she said with a laugh. “Hope you haven’t any bad news for us.”

“No, it’s not bad news. it’s only—only— It’s about that beastly business last term and my nickname. I hate it.”

The tenseness of Cecilia’s voice wiped the smile from Nadine’s face.

“Sorry! I was only teasing,” she muttered.

Then she turned to the others.

“Will you all be quiet, please?” she cried, in her penetrating tones. “Cecilia Norbury wants to speak to us.’

It might have been Nadine’s request that brought almost instant silence, it might have been curiosity, but whatever it was the room was suddenly as quiet as if Miss Percival, the Headmistress, had entered as usual.

Everyone was looking at Cecilia, and she felt her courage oozing. Swiftly she sprang up on to an empty chair and began to speak.

“You all know of the beastly nickname I earned last term. I want to try and explain why I didn’t own up at once when questioned about Nadine’s book. I was too scared; that, I fear, is the only explanation. Had I been questioned alone, I should probably have told Miss Frampton what I had done and why, but when she asked in front of the whole form, I just couldn’t make myself speak. I’m a coward, if you like, but not a liar.”

Cecilia jumped down from the chair and stood there waiting to see what would happen. It was Nadine who broke the silence.

“Thanks for telling us, Cecilia. I, for one, am quite ready to forget what happened, and as it was my book, I have a right to speak. I’d also like to add that I don’t think you’re a coward. If you were, you’d not have told us what you have to-day. I suppose you can’t help being shy if you’re made that way, and I’m only sorry you’ve suffered under the stupid nickname someone gave you. Shake hands and forget it. In future I’m going to call you Cecil.”

“So will I,” chipped in Selina, “and I’d like to endorse all Nad says. I did lots of silly things when I first came to St. D’s, and I’m sure I’d have acted as Cecil did if the occasion had arisen. I vote we all forget what happened and give Cecil a square deal.”

“Thanks,” murmured Cecilia, shyly. “It’s super of you two to take it like this, and I’ll try not to let you down in future.”

“That’s all very well,” drawled Emily Ware. “I’m not so easily influenced, though. We all know ‘Lia told a lie, and we’ve only her belated explanation of why she did it. I’ll own shyness can be responsible for much, but if ‘Lia is so shy, how did she screw up the courage to talk to us now? I think I’ll wait a bit before I change my opinion. Let her prove her worth before we accept her.”

“Hear, hear,” cried one or two voices, but Nadine took up the challenge immediately.

“I think your insinuations are horrible, Emily, and I, for one, don’t believe in kicking a man when he’s down. Cecilia has confided in us, and that took courage, for she, is shy, and I’m ready to accept her explanation, as I said before. Those who agree with me, please stick up their hands.”

Most of those present responded, and a crowd of arms waved in the air, though Emily and her little clique held aloof. Cecilia, however, did not mind. Most of the form agreed with their captain, and Cecilia was content. She felt happier than she had done since her arrival at St. Dorothy’s, and she was eager to prove her worth and help the Fourth to win the end-of-term shield. This was presented every term to the form that gained the highest aggregate of marks. These marks were given not only for lessons, but for unusual things like originality, tidiness, and general conduct. Cecilia was clever, and her good marks helped the weekly totals. It was not long before little things began to occur that upset Cecilia’s efforts, however. One week she did the wrong French prep and lost all her marks in consequence. The next time she had to go for her violin lesson before the prep was given out, she decided to ask Nadine what had been set, but when she returned to the class-room the girls were all working. She found a slip of paper on her desk, with the page and number of problems to be worked written on it. She set to work. The problems were difficult, but Cecilia was very good at maths, and after several faulty starts, she worked all six out easily and correctly.

“Funny Miss Grantham gave us those much more difficult problems to do,” she remarked to Nadine after prep. “I couldn’t get away with them at all at first.”

Nadine looked puzzled.

“But they were just like the one the Biscuit worked out on the board this morning,” she declared. “I thought they were easier than usual.”

“You did write down the page and numbers for me, didn’t you, Nad?” asked Cecilia, suddenly apprehensive. “I found a slip of paper on my desk with page forty-two, numbers six, eight, eleven, twelve, seventeen and twenty on it.”

“Show me the paper,” was Nadine’s only answer.

“I left it in my desk. I’ll get it presently and show you,” Cecilia promised.

“Run and fetch it now,” urged Nadine, and Cecilia went.

Yet hunt as she certainly did, the paper was nowhere to be found, and Cecilia had to tell Nadine that she could not find it.

“I rather expected you wouldn’t,” declared the form captain, quietly. “Someone’s trying to get you into trouble. That’s why I asked you to go and look at once. Now you’ve time to slip along to the correction cupboard, retrieve your book, and do the right problems in place of the wrong ones.”

“But we’re not allowed to touch the books once they’re given in, are we?” questioned Cecilia, anxiously.

“No, but that can’t be helped. You’ll have to risk being caught. If you’re careful it should be pretty safe. Once you have the book and done the right problems, we’ll find a way to replace it. Shall I go for you?”

“Oh, no,” cried Cecilia. “I’m quite ready to do my own dirty work. I’ll bunk along now while the staff are having tea. It shouldn’t take me Long. Keep me a place at your table, if I’m late, won’t you? I’ll be as quick as possible.”

Nadine nodded and Cecilia ran off, but luck was against her. She reached the correction cupboard safely and was just looking through the Fourth’s pile of maths books for her own, when a voice behind her made her turn suddenly.

“What are you doing there, Cecilia Norbury?” demanded Miss Frampton. “Surely you know you’ve no right at that cupboard?”

“Y-yes, Miss Frampton.”

“Then why are you there?” she queried, irritably.

“I—I wanted my maths book, Miss Frampton.”

“Then you must ask Miss Grantham for it. Put back those books and go and have your tea. You will take a conduct mark for breaking rules.”

Miserably Cecilia did as she was told. Directly she entered the refectory Nadine saw something was wrong.

“What’s up, Cecil?” she whispered. “You haven’t found your book. Oh, surely you’ve not been caught?”

“Yes, Miss Frampton was there. She wouldn’t let me have my book, and I’ve got a conduct mark. I’m terribly sorry—that won’t help us to win the shield. If only I could guess who put that sheet of false numbers on my desk, I’d tell them just what I thought of them.”

“It was a rotten trick,” agreed Nadine. “I can guess who was responsible, but that’s no use without proof. You’ll have to keep your eyes skinned, Cecil, and be prepared. The Biscuit always kicks up a din if anyone makes a harmless mistake, so she’ll have something to say to you on Thursday. She’s beastly sarcastic, too.”

“Not a sugar biscuit, certainly,” replied Cecilia. “But I’ll try not to let her squash me. It’s easier to keep one’s flag flying if one has solid backing, and I have you now. That makes just all the difference.”

Poor Cecilia needed all the support she could get when Miss Grantham stalked into the Fourth form-room the next afternoon. It was easy to see that the mistress was angry. She glared at the girls, and opened her mark book with determination.

“I wish to know,” she began, “why ten girls in the form have less than half marks for a perfectly simple set of problems?”

No one answered.

“I also wish to know,” went on the mistress, coldly, “why you, Emily Ware, gave in no work at all?”

Emily looked bewildered.

“But I did, Miss Grantham. I did the problems and handed in my -book with the rest.”

“Does anyone remember Emily giving in her book?” asked the mistress.

“I do, Miss Grantham,” answered Selina, with a frown. “I was collecting the books, and I’m sure Emily’s was there when I put them in the correction cupboard. I remember so well, because it was the top book of the pile.”

“Thank you, Selina. Has anyone touched Emily’s book since it was given in?”

A murmured denial was the only answer.

“I believe Miss Frampton told me one of you went to the cupboard last night without permission. Am I right?”

“Yes, I did, Miss Grantham,” owned Cecilia.

“Did you touch Emily’s book?” -

“No, Miss Grantham. I had only just reached the cupboard when Miss Frampton caught me and sent me away.”

“Very well. I will make further enquiries. Emily. Now we will proceed with the lesson. By the way, Cecilia, why did you do the wrong problems?”

“I—I made a mistake, Miss Grantham. I’m sorry. Shall I do the right ones?”

“No, I don’t think you need as you are more advanced than most of the Fourth. But I cannot give you any marks for wrong work.”

Directly Miss Grantham left the class-room Cecilia sensed a feeling of hostility and noticed that some of the girls were looking at her curiously. Nadine noticed it, too, and she went out of her way to be nice to Cecilia.

“Don’t worry, Cecil,” she advised. “There’s no need to take any notice of sheep who follow the wrong leader.”

“You may be form captain, Nadine Chesman,” said Emily with a snort, “but that doesn’t give you the right to criticise everyone. I know ‘Lia says she didn’t touch my book, but we’ve only her word for it, and you know what that was worth before.”

“I’ve admitted I was a coward and told a fib then,” said Cecilia, quietly, “but I’m not this time. I neither saw nor touched your book, Emily.”

“I’d like to ask who put a wrong list of numbers for our maths prep on Cecil’s desk?” burst out Selina. “That was a cad’s trick. What do you know about that, Emily Ware?”

“Me? Nothing,” denied Emily, swiftly. “Why didn’t ‘Lia ask someone if she wasn’t sure? Not that she need worry. Being a favourite with the staff has its compensations. If anyone else had made that mistake they’d have got into a terrific row. Not so our dear Cecilia.”

“I lost my marks,” cried Cecilia, “and that’s pretty rotten. I want to help to win the shield if you don’t,” she added with spirit.

The next day Miss Frampton sent for Cecilia. The mistress looked very worried when Cecilia entered her study, but she greeted her quite kindly.

“I don’t want you to be afraid of answering my questions,” began the mistress. “Have you at any time borrowed a Latin key-book from my study?”

“No, Miss Frampton, I most certainly have not. Why should I? I do not find the Latin we are doing difficult.”

“That is what I thought,” said the mistress. “But I found my key-book in your desk this morning. Can you explain its presence there?”

“In my desk?” gasped Cecilia in horror. “Oh, Miss Frampton, who could have put it there?”

“I have no idea, Cecilia, but I intend to find out. Have you any enemies?”

“No one who would do a thing like that, I’m sure,” Cecilia answered quickly. “I mayn’t be popular, but surely no girl would try to implicate another in such a beastly way? There must be some mistake somewhere.”

“Where, Cecilia?”

“I—I don’t know. You don’t suppose, do you, Miss Frampton, that I walk in my sleep and do things I don’t know anything about?”

“Have you ever walked in your sleep?”

was a bit worried yesterday, and worry is supposed to induce sleepwalking, isn’t it?”

“Sometimes, but I think your parents would have told us if you were troubled in that way. Still, we can easily make certain. Who shares your dormitory?”

“Nadine, Selina and Mary Strafford,” Cecilia answered.

“Good. They are all thoroughly sensible girls who can be relied on to keep their counsel. Unknown to any but those three, you will sleep in the san for a little while, Cecilia. Then if any further attempt to implicate you occurs, we shall know that you are innocent, and that we must look elsewhere for the culprit. I will make the necessary arrangements with Matron. Don’t worry, child. I intend to solve the mystery. I believe you when you say you know nothing, and frankly I do not think you sleepwalk.”

For the next week nothing happened, and then Miss Grantham lost a maths key-book. It was found by Miss Frampton in Cecilia’s desk. Cecilia denied all knowledge of it, and most of the girls believed her. Miss Frampton said little.

“I can only accept your word, Cecilia, and I shall ask Miss Grantham to take no further steps this time. Should anything else be found in your desk, I shall take the whole matter to Miss Percival.”

Although Cecilia knew her form mistress believed in her, she was worried. More of the girls went over to Emily’s way of thinking, too, and ignored Cecilia.

“Perhaps she put it there in. her sleep,” suggested one girl with a sneer.

“Pity you didn’t suggest that to Miss Frampton, Elsie,” said Emily. “Sleepwalkers are dangerous.”

“Cecilia doesn’t walk in’ her sleep,” cut in Nadine. “She could not very well without one of us knowing it when we’re in the same dorm. Oh, this is a beastly term!”

A few days later Miss Frampton warned the Fourth that she intended to give them a test.

“I shall set the questions to-night, girls, and so I advise you to do your revision very thoroughly. No one with less than half marks will be allowed to go to the picnic on Saturday. Too many of you are playing instead of working this term, and it must stop.”

That night the mistress, with the help of the science mistress baited her trap carefully. She felt sure the thief who had stolen things from her study before would come to-night, and this time she would know who that someone was.

Directly their form mistress entered the class-room the next morning the Fourth knew something was wrong. She did not keep them long in suspense.

“Girls, the test questions I prepared for you last night have been stolen from my study. Which of you is guilty of this latest theft?”

No one spoke.

“For the last time I appeal to the guilty girl to own up and save herself from expulsion.”

Still no one spoke.

With a few swift steps the mistress crossed the room and flung up the lid of Cecilia’s desk. Most of the girls half expected the missing papers to be there, and they were not surprised when she found what she was looking for.

“You know nothing about these papers, Cecilia?

“No, Miss Frampton.”

“Let me see your hands.”

Cecilia showed her hands, and the mistress was satisfied.

“I shall now inspect the hands of every girl in the room,” said Miss Frampton sternly. “The girl who has green stains on her fingers is the liar and thief. These papers were so prepared that anyone who touched them would be marked with an indelible green stain. I need hardly tell you that Cecilia’s hands are unstained and that she is innocent. What is it, Emily?”

“Please, Miss Frampton, I feel terribly sick. May I be excused?”

“Show me your hands first. Ah! It is as I feared. Even pumice could not quite remove the stains, could it? What have you to say, Emily?”

“Nothing,” Emily cried, wildly. “It was Cecilia who stole your papers. I went to her desk this morning, and must have touched them accidentally then.”

“Why did you go to her desk?”

“I—I wanted something.”

“Don’t lie any more, Emily,” said Miss Frampton sternly. “Miss Percival will deal with you. I will take you to her now. The rest of you will go on quietly with your work until I return.”

Later that day all the girls who had doubted Cecilia apologised. Once Emily had been sent away, they seemed to realise how foolish they had been, and were honestly sorry that they had ever doubted Cecilia.

It was not long before the old hated nickname was completely forgotten, and a happy, popular Cecilia, who worked untiringly for the School she now loved, became generally and affectionately known as “C. of St. D. ‘s.”