Part 23 (2/2)

”Oh, but mayn't I walk with you? What harm can I do? And I do admire you so immensely! And won't you take the thing out of the tree again and let me see it? I want to see it ever so badly.”

”No, I am sure I won't. You can poke for it yourself whenever you please,” said Betty. ”Now, come on, if you are coming.”

”Oh, may I come with you really?”

”I can't prevent you, Sibyl. As a matter of fact, I was going out for a walk all alone; but as you are determined to bear me company, you must.”

Betty felt seriously alarmed. She must take the first possible opportunity to get the precious packet out of its present hiding-place and dispose of it elsewhere. But where? That was the puzzle. And how soon could she manage this? How quickly could she get rid of Sibyl Ray?

Sibyl's small, pale-blue eyes were glittering with curiosity. Betty felt she must manage her. Then suddenly, by one of those quick transitions of thought, Rule VI. occurred to her. It was her duty to be kind to Sibyl, even though she did not like her. She would, therefore, now put forth her charm for the benefit of this small, unattractive girl. She accordingly began to chatter in her wildest and most fascinating way.

Sibyl was instantly convulsed with laughter, and forgot all about the old stump of tree and the bit of wood that Betty had fished out, looked at, and put back again. The whole matter would, of course, recur to Sibyl by-and by; but at present she was absorbed in the great delight of Betty's conversation.

”Oh, Betty, I do admire you!” she said.

”Well, now, listen to one thing,” said Betty. ”I hate flattery.”

”But it isn't flattery if I mean what I say. If I do admire a person I say so. Now, I admire our darling Martha West. She has always been kind to me. Martha is a dear, a duck; but, of course, she doesn't fascinate in the way you do. Several of the other girls in my form--I'm in the upper fifth, you know--have been talking about you and wondering where your charm lay. For you couldn't be called exactly pretty; although, of course, that very black hair of yours, and those curious eyes which are no color in particular, and yet seem to be every color, and your pale face, make you quite out of the common. We love your sisters too; they are darlings, but neither of them is like you. Still, you're not exactly pretty. You haven't nearly such straight and regular features as Olive Repton; you're not as pretty, even, as f.a.n.n.y Crawford. Of course Fan's a dear old thing--one of the very best girls in the school; and she is your cousin, isn't she, Betty?”

”Yes.”

”Betty, it is delightful to walk with you! And isn't it just wonderful to think that you've not been more than a few weeks in the school before you are made a Speciality, and with all the advantages of one? Oh, it does seem quite too wonderful!”

”I am glad you think so,” said Betty.

”But it is very extraordinary. I don't think it has ever been done before. You see, your arrival at the school and everything else was completely out of the common. You didn't come at the beginning of term, as most new girls do; you came when term was quite a fortnight old; and you were put straight away into the upper school without going through the drudgery, or whatever you may like to call it, of the lower school.

Oh, I do--yes, I do--call it perfectly wonderful! I suppose you are eaten up with conceit?”

”No, I am not,” said Betty. ”I am not conceited at all. Now listen, Sibyl. You are to be a guest, are you not, at our Speciality party to-night?”

”Of course I am; and I am so fearfully excited, more particularly as you are going to tell stories with the lights down. I'm going to wear a green dress; it's a gauzy sort of stuff that my aunt has just sent me, and I think it will suit me very well indeed. Oh, it is fun to think of this evening!”

”Yes, of course it's fun,” said Betty. ”Now, I tell you what. Why don't you go into the front garden and ask the gardener for permission to get a few small marguerite daisies, and then make them into a very simple wreath to twine round your hair? The daisies would suit you so well; you don't know how nice they'll make you look.”

”Will they?” said Sibyl, her eyes sparkling. ”Do you really think so?”

”Of course I think so. I have pictures of all the girls in my mind; and I often shut my eyes and think how such a girl would look if she were dressed in such a way, and how such another girl would look if she wore something else.”

”And when you think of me?” said Sibyl.

But Betty had never thought of Sibyl. She was silent.

”And when you think of me?” repeated Sibyl, her face beaming all over with delight. ”You think of me, do you, darling Betty, as wearing green, with a wreath of marguerites in my hair?”

”Yes, that is how I think of you,” said Betty.

”Very well, I'll go and find the gardener. Mrs. Haddo always allows us to have cut flowers that the gardener gives us.”

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