Part 13 (1/2)

”What does this mean?” said Julia.

”I can't understand it a bit,” said Margaret. Then she added after a pause, ”I suppose, girls, you fully recognize that the Speciality Club is supposed to be a club without prejudice or favor, and that, as the 'ayes' have carried the day, Miss Betty Vivian is to be invited to join?”

”Of course she must be invited to join,” replied Susie; ”but it is very unpleasant all the same. I cannot make out what can ail f.a.n.n.y Crawford.

She hasn't been a bit herself since those girls arrived.”

The Specialities chatted a little longer together, but the meeting was not convivial. f.a.n.n.y's absence prevented its being so; and very soon the girls broke up, leaving the pretty cups and saucers and the remains of the feast behind them. The chapel bell rang for prayers, and they all trooped in. But f.a.n.n.y Crawford was not present. This, in itself, was almost without precedent, for girls were not allowed to miss prayers without leave.

As each Speciality laid her head on her pillow that night she could not but reflect on f.a.n.n.y's strange behavior, and wondered much what it meant. As to f.a.n.n.y herself, she lay awake for hours. Some of the girls and some of the mistresses thought that she was grieving for her father; but, as a matter of fact, she was not even thinking of him. Every thought of her mind was concentrated on what she called her present dilemma. It was almost morning before the tired girl fell asleep.

At half-past six on the following day the great gong sounded through the entire upper school. Betty started up in some amazement, her sisters in some alarm.

By-and-by a kind-looking woman, dressed as a sort of housekeeper or upper servant, entered the room. ”Can I help you to dress, young ladies?” she said.

The girls replied in the negative. They had always dressed themselves.

”Very well,” replied the woman. ”Then I will come to fetch you in half-an-hour's time, so that you will be ready for prayers in chapel.”

Perhaps Betty Vivian never, as long as she lived, forgot that first day when she stood with her sisters in the beautiful little chapel and heard the Reverend Edmund Fairfax read prayers. He was a delicate, refined-looking man, with a very intellectual face and a beautiful voice. Mrs. Haddo had begged of him to accept the post of private chaplain to her great school for many reasons. First, because his health was delicate; second, because she knew she could pay him well; and also, for the greatest reason of all, because she was quite sure that Mr.

Fairfax could help her girls in moments of difficulty in their spiritual life, should such moments arise.

Prayers came to an end; breakfast came to an end. The Vivians pa.s.sed a very brisk examination with some credit. As Miss Symes had predicted, Betty was put into her special form, in which form Susie Rushworth and f.a.n.n.y Crawford also had their places. The younger Vivians were allowed to remain in the upper school, but were in much lower forms. Betty took to her work as happily (to use a well-known expression) as a duck takes to water. Her eyes were bright with intelligence while she listened to Miss Symes, who could teach so charmingly and could impart knowledge in such an attractive way.

In the middle of the morning there was the usual brief period when the girls might go out and amuse themselves for a short time. Betty wanted to find her sisters; but before she could attempt to seek for them she felt a hand laid on her arm, and, glancing round, saw that f.a.n.n.y Crawford was by her side.

”Betty,” said f.a.n.n.y, ”I want to speak to you, and at once. We have only a very few minutes; will you, please, listen?”

”Is it really important?” asked Betty. ”For, if it is not, I do want to say something to Sylvia. She forgot to give d.i.c.kie his raw meat this morning.”

”Oh, aren't you just hopeless!” exclaimed f.a.n.n.y. ”You think of that terrible spider when--when----Oh, I don't know what to make of you!”

”And I don't know what to make of you, f.a.n.n.y!” retorted Betty. ”What are you excited about? What is the matter?”

”Listen!--do listen!” said f.a.n.n.y.

”Well, I am listening; but you really must be quick in getting out whatever's troubling you.”

”You have heard of the Specialities, haven't you?” said f.a.n.n.y.

”Good gracious, no!” exclaimed Betty. ”The Specialities--what are they?”

”There is nothing _what_ about them. They are people--girls; they are not things.”

”Oh, girls! What a funny name to give girls! I haven't heard of them, f.a.n.n.y.”

”You won't be long at Haddo Court without hearing a great deal about them,” remarked f.a.n.n.y. ”I am one, and so is Susie Rushworth, and so are the Bertrams, and so is that handsome girl Margaret Grant. You must have noticed her; she is so dark and tall and stately. And so, also, is dear little Olive Repton----”

”And so is--and so is--and so is--” laughed Betty, putting on her most quizzical manner.