Part 8 (1/2)
Mrs. Haddo was silent for a minute. Then she said gently, ”Yes, very much. He is a sort of pet, I suppose?”
”He is a spider,” said Betty--”a great, enormous spider. We captured him when he was small, and we fed him--oh, not on little flies--that would be cruel--but on morsels of raw meat. Now he is very big, and he has wicked eyes. I would rather call him Demon than d.i.c.kie; but Sylvia named him d.i.c.kie when he was but a baby thing, so the name has stuck to him.
We love him dearly.”
”I will come up to your room presently, and you shall show him to me.
Have you brought other pets from the country?”
”Oh, stones and sh.e.l.ls and bits of the moor.”
”Bits of the moor, my dear children!”
”Yes; we dug pieces up the day before yesterday and wrapped them in paper, and we want to plant them somewhere here. We thought they would comfort us. We'd like it awfully if you would let one of the dogs come, too. He is a great sheep-dog, and such a darling! His name is Andrew. I think Donald Macfarlane would part with him if you said we might have him.”
”I am afraid I can't just at present, dear; but if you are really good girls, and try your very best to please me, you shall go back to Donald Macfarlane in the holidays, and perhaps I will go with you, and you will show me all your favorite haunts.”
”Oh, will you?” said Betty. Her eyes grew softer than ever.
”You are quite a dear for a head mistress,” said Sylvia. ”We've always read in books that they are such horrors. It is nice for you to say you will come.”
”Well, now, I want to say something else, and then we'll go up to your room and see d.i.c.kie. I am going to take you three girls up to town to-morrow to buy you the sort of dresses we wear in this part of the world. You can put away these most sensible frocks for your next visit to Craigie Muir. Not a word, dears. You have said I am a very nice head mistress, and I hope you will continue to think so. Now, let us come up to your room.”
CHAPTER V
THE VIVIANS' ATTIC
Mrs. Haddo was genuinely interested in d.i.c.kie. She never once spoke of him as a horror. She immediately named the genus to which he belonged in the spider tribe, and told the girls that they could look up full particulars with regard to him and his ways in a large book she had downstairs called ”Chambers's Encyclopedia.” She suggested, however, that they should have a little room in one of the attics where they could keep d.i.c.kie and his morsels of meat, and the different boxes which contained the caterpillars. She volunteered to show this minute room to the young Vivians at once.
They looked at her, as she spoke, with more and more interest and less and less dislike. Even Sylvia's little heart was melted, and Hetty at once put out her hand and touched Mrs. Haddo's. In a moment the little brown hand was held in the firm clasp of the white one, which was ornamented with sparkling rings.
As the children and Mrs. Haddo were leaving the blue room, Mrs. Haddo's eyes fell upon the deal trunks. ”What very sensible trunks!” she said.
”And so you brought your clothes in these?”
”Yes,” replied Betty. ”Donald Macfarlane made them for us. He can do all sorts of carpentering. He meant to paint them green; but we thought we'd like them best just as they are unpainted.”
”They are strong, useful boxes,” replied Mrs. Haddo. ”And now come with me and I will show you the room which shall be your private property and where you can keep your pets. By the way,” she added, ”I am exceedingly particular with regard to the neatness of the various rooms where my pupils sleep; and these bits of heather and these curious stones--oh, I can tell you plenty about their history by and by--might also be put into what we will call 'the Vivians' attic.'”
”Thank you so much!” said Betty. She had forgotten all about howling--she had even forgotten for the minute that she was really at school; for great Mrs. Haddo, the wonderful head mistress, about whom f.a.n.n.y had told so many stories, was really a most agreeable person--nearly, very nearly, as nice as dear Aunt Frances.
The little attic was presently reached; the pets were deposited there; and then--wonderful to relate!--Mrs. Haddo went out herself with the girls and chose the very best position in the grounds for them to plant the pieces of heather, with their roots and surrounding earth. She gave to each girl a small plot which was to be her very own, and which no other girl was to have anything whatever to do with. When presently she introduced them into the private sitting-room of the upper school, Betty's eyes were s.h.i.+ning quite happily; and Sylvia and Hetty, who always followed her example, were looking as merry as possible.
f.a.n.n.y Crawford, being requested to do so by Susie Rushworth, now introduced the Vivians to the Specialities. Mary and Julia Bertram shook hands with them quite warmly. Margaret Grant smiled for a minute as her dark, handsome eyes met those of Betty; while Olive Repton said in her most genial tone, ”Oh, do sit down, and tell us all about your life!”
”Yes, please--_please_, tell us all about your life!” exclaimed another voice; and Sibyl Ray came boldly forward and seated herself in the midst of the group, which was known in the school as the Specialities.
But here Margaret interfered. ”You shall hear everything presently, Sibyl,” she said; ”but just now we are having a little confab with dear f.a.n.n.y's friends, so do you mind leaving us alone together?”
Sibyl colored angrily. ”I am sure I don't care,” she said; ”and if you are going to be stuck-up and snappish and disagreeable just because you happen to call yourselves the Specialities, you needn't expect _me_ to take an interest in you. I am just off for a game of tennis, and shall have a far better time than you all, hobn.o.bbing in this close room.”