Part 3 (1/2)

”f.a.n.n.y is very much upset about her father's absence,” was Miss Symes's unexpected answer.

Mrs. Haddo looked attentively at the English teacher. Their eyes met, but neither uttered a single word.

The next day, after school, f.a.n.n.y went up to Miss Symes. ”I have been thinking over everything,” she said, ”and my conscience is not going to trouble me; for I know, or believe I know, a way by which I may help them all.”

”It is a grand thing to help those who are in sorrow, f.a.n.n.y.”

”I will do my best,” said the girl.

That evening, to Miss Symes's great relief, she heard f.a.n.n.y's merry laugh in the school. The girls who formed the Specialities, as they were called, had met for a cheerful conference. Mary and Julia Bertram were in the highest spirits; and Margaret Grant, with her beautiful complexion and stately ways, had never been more agreeable. Olive Repton, the pet and darling of nearly the whole of the upper school, was making the others scream with laughter.

”There can be nothing very bad,” thought Miss Symes to herself. ”My dear friend will soon see that the charitable feeling which prompted her to receive those girls into the house was really but another sign of her true n.o.bility of character.”

Meanwhile f.a.n.n.y, who was told not to keep the coming of the Vivians in any way a secret, was being eagerly questioned with regard to them.

”So you really saw them at their funny home, Craigie Muir?” exclaimed Olive.

”Yes; I spent a week there,” said f.a.n.n.y.

”And had a jolly good time, I guess?” cried Julia Bertram.

”Not such a very good time,” answered f.a.n.n.y, ”for Miss Vivian was ill, and we had to be very quiet.”

”Oh! don't let's bother about the time f.a.n.n.y spent in that remote part of Scotland,” said Olive. ”Do tell us about the girls themselves, Fan.

It's so unusual for any girls to come straight into the upper school, and also to put in an appearance in the middle of term. Are they very Scotch, to begin with?”

”No, hardly at all,” replied f.a.n.n.y. ”Miss Vivian only took the pretty little cottage in which they live a year ago.”

”I am glad they are not too Scotch,” remarked Susie; ”they will get into our ways all the sooner if they are thoroughly English.”

”I don't see that for a single moment,” remarked Olive. ”For my part, I love Scotch la.s.sies; and as to Irish colleens, they're simply adorable.”

”Well, well, go on with your description, Fan,” exclaimed Julia.

”I can tell you they are quite remarkable-looking,” replied f.a.n.n.y.

”Betty is the eldest. She is a regular true sort of Betty, up to no end of larks and fun; but sometimes she gets very depressed. I think she is rather dark, but I am not quite sure; she is also somewhat tall; and, oh, she is wonderfully pretty! She can whistle the note of every bird that ever sang, and is devoted to wild creatures--the moor ponies and great Scotch collies and sheep-dogs. You'll be sure to like Betty Vivian.”

”Your description does sound promising,” remarked Susie; ”but she will certainly have to give up her wild ways at Haddo Court.”

”What about the others?” asked Olive.

”Sylvia and Hetty? I think they are two years younger than Betty. They are not a bit like her. They are rather heavy-looking girls, but still you would call them handsome. They are twins, and wonderfully like each other. Sylvia is very tender-hearted; but Hetty--I think Hetty has the most force of character. Now, really,” continued f.a.n.n.y, rising from her low chair, where her chosen friends were surrounding her, ”I can say nothing more about them until they come. You can't expect me, any of you, to overpraise my own relations, and, naturally, I shouldn't abuse them.”

”Why, of course not, you dear old Fan!” exclaimed Olive.

”I must go and write a letter to father,” said f.a.n.n.y; and she went across the room to where her own little desk stood in a distant corner.