Part 7 (2/2)

”But have you really no other dresses?”

”There's nothing wrong with these,” said Hester; ”they're quite comfortable.”

Just at that moment there came peals of laughter proceeding from several girls' throats. The room-door was burst open, and Sylvia entered first, her face very red, her eyes bright and defiant, and a tiny piece of raw meat on a plate in her hand. The girls who followed her did not belong to the Specialities, but they were all girls of the upper school. f.a.n.n.y thanked her stars that they were not particular friends of hers. They were choking with laughter, and evidently thought they had never seen so good a sight in their lives.

”Oh, this is too delicious!” said Sibyl Ray, a girl who had just been admitted into the upper school. ”We met this--this young lady, and she said she wanted to go to the kitchen to get some raw meat; and when I told her I didn't know the way she just took my hand and drew me along with her, and said, 'If you possessed a d.i.c.kie, and he was dying of hunger, you wouldn't hesitate to find the kitchen.'”

”Well, I'm not going to interfere,” said f.a.n.n.y; ”but I think you know the rules of the house, Sibyl, and that no girl is allowed in the kitchen.”

”I didn't go in,” said Sibyl; ”catch me! But I went to the beginning of the corridor which leads to the kitchen. _She_ went in, though, boldly enough, and she got it. Now, we do want to see who d.i.c.kie is. Is he a dog, or a monkey, or what?”

”He's a spider--_goose_!” said Sylvia. ”And now, please, get out of the way. He won't eat if you watch him. I've got a good bit of meat, Betty,”

she continued. ”It'll keep d.i.c.kie going for several days, and he likes it all the better when it begins to turn. Don't you d.i.c.kie?”

”If you don't all leave the room, girls,” said f.a.n.n.y, ”I shall have to report to Miss Symes.”

The girls who had entered were rather afraid of f.a.n.n.y Crawford, and thought it best to obey her instructions. But the news with regard to the newcomers spread wildly all over the house; so much so that when, in course of time, neat-looking f.a.n.n.y came down to dinner accompanied by her three cousins, the whole school remained breathless, watching the Vivians as they entered. But what magical force is there about certain girls which raises them above the mere accessories of dress? Could there be anything uglier than the attire of these so-called Scotch la.s.sies?

And was there ever a prouder carriage than that of Betty Vivian, or a more scornful expression in the eye, or a firmer set of the little lips?

Mrs. Haddo, who always presided at this meal, called the strangers to come and sit near her; and though the school had great difficulty in not bursting into a giggle, there was not a sound of any sort whatever as the three obeyed. f.a.n.n.y sat down near her friend, Susie Rushworth. Her eyes spoke volumes. But Susie was gazing at Betty's face.

At dinner, the girls were expected to talk French on certain days of the week, and German on others. This was French day, and Susie murmured something to f.a.n.n.y in that tongue with regard to Betty's remarkable little face. But f.a.n.n.y was in no mood to be courteous or kind about her relatives. Susie was quick to perceive this, and therefore left her alone.

When dinner came to an end, Mrs. Haddo called the three Vivians into her private sitting-room. This room was even more elegant than the beautiful bedroom which they had just vacated. ”Now, my dears,” she said, ”I want to have a talk with you all.”

Sylvia and Hester looked impatient, and shuffled from one ungainly clad foot to the other; but Mrs. Haddo fixed her eyes on Betty's face, and again there thrilled through Betty's heart the marvelous sensation that she had come across a kindred soul. She was incapable, poor child, of putting the thought into such words; but she felt it, and it thawed her rebellious spirit.

Mrs. Haddo sat down. ”Now,” she said, ”you call this school, and, having never been at school before, you doubtless think you are going to be very miserable?”

”If there's much discipline we shall be,” said Hester, ”and Betty will howl.”

”_Don't_ talk like that!” said Betty; and there was a tone in her voice which silenced Hetty, to the little girl's own amazement.

”There will certainly be discipline at school,” said Mrs. Haddo, ”just as there is discipline in life. What miserable people we should be without discipline! Why, we couldn't get on at all. I am not going to lecture you to-day. As a matter of fact, I never lecture; and I never expect any young girl to do in my school what I would not endeavor to do myself. Above all things, I wish to impress one thing upon you. If you have any sort of trouble--and, of course, dears, you will have plenty--you must come straight to me and tell me about it. This is a privilege I permit to very few girls, but I grant it to you. I give you that full privilege for the first month of your stay at Haddo Court. You are to come to me as you would to a mother, had you, my poor children, a mother living.”

”Don't! It makes the lump so bad!” said Betty, clasping her rough little hand against her white throat.

”I think I have said enough on that subject for the present. I am very curious to hear all about your life on the moors--how you spent your time, and how you managed your horses and dogs and your numerous pets.”

”Do you really want to hear?” said Betty.

”Certainly; I have said so.”

”Do you know,” said Hetty, ”that Sylvia _would_ bring d.i.c.kie here.

Betty and I were somewhat against it, although he is a darling. He is the most precious pet in the world, and Sylvia would not part with him.

We sent her to the kitchen before dinner to get a bit of raw meat for him. Would you like to see him?”

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