“I can’t bear it,” sighed Clover, with tears in her eyes.  “It is so cruel that they should say such things about you.”

“I mean that they shall say something quite different before we go away,” replied Katy, stroking her hair.  “Cousin Helen would tell us to stay, I’m pretty sure.  I was thinking about her just now, and I seemed to hear her voice in the air, saying over and over, ‘Live it down!  Live it down!  Live it down!’” She half sang this, and took two or three dancing steps across the room.

“What a girl you are!” said Clover, consoled by seeing Katy look so bright.

Mrs. Florence was surprised that morning, as she sat in her room, by the appearance of Katy.  She looked pale, but perfectly quiet and gentle.

“Mrs. Florence,” she said, “I’ve come to say that I shall not write to my father to take us away, as I told you I should.”

Mrs. Florence bowed stiffly, by way of answer.

“Not,” went on Katy, with a little flash in her eyes, “that he would hesitate, or doubt my word one moment, if I did.  But he wished us to stay here a year, and I don’t want to disappoint him.  I’d rather stay.  And, Mrs. Florence, I’m sorry I was angry, and felt that you were unjust.”

“And to-day you own that I was not?”

“Oh, no!” replied Katy, “I can’t do that.  You were unjust, because neither Clover nor I wrote that note.  We wouldn’t do such a horrid thing for the world, and I hope some day you will believe us.  But I oughtn’t to have spoken so.”

Katy’s face and voice were so truthful as she said this, that Mrs. Florence was almost shaken in her opinion.

“We will say no more about the matter,” she remarked, in a kinder tone.  “If your conduct is perfectly correct in future, it will go far to make this forgotten.”

Few things are more aggravating than to be forgiven when one has done no wrong.  Katy felt this as she walked away from Mrs. Florence’s room.  But she would not let herself grow angry again.  “Live it down!” she whispered, as she went into the school-room.

She and Clover had a good deal to endure for the next two or three weeks.  They missed their old room with its sunny window and pleasant outlook.  They missed Rose, who, down at the far end of Quaker Row, could not drop in half so often as had been her custom.  Miss Jane was specially grim and sharp; and some of the upstairs girls, who resented Katy’s plain speaking, and the formation of a society against flirting, improved the chance to be provoking.  Lilly Page was one of these.  She didn’t really believe Katy guilty, but she liked to tease her by pretending to believe it.

“Only to think of the President of the Saintly Stuck-Up Society being caught like this!” she remarked, maliciously.  “What are our great reformers coming to?  Now if it had been a sinner like me, no one would be surprised!”