Part 29 (1/2)

”I can't quite tell you, girls; it's all new to me at present.

Everything is new and strange. Oh girls, England is a cold, cold country!”

”But it is declared by all the geography-books to be warmer than Scotland,” said Sylvia, speaking in a thoughtful voice.

”I don't mean physical cold,” said Betty, half-laughing as she spoke.

”I begin to like school,” said Hetty. ”Lessons aren't really a bit hard.”

”I think school is very stimulating,” said Sylvia. ”The teachers are all so kind, and we are making friends by degrees. The only thing that Hetty and I don't like is this, Bet, that we see so very little of you.”

”Although I see little of you I never forget you,” was Betty's answer.

”And then,” continued Sylvia, ”we sleep in the same room, which is a great blessing. That is something to be thankful for.”

”And perhaps,” said Betty, ”we'll see more of each other in the future.”

”What do you mean?”

”Oh, nothing--nothing.”

”Betty, you are growing very mysterious.”

”I hope not,” replied Betty. ”I should just hate to be mysterious.”

”Well, you are growing it, all the same,” said Hester. ”But, oh Bet, you're becoming the most wonderful favorite in the school! I can't tell you what the other girls say about you, for I really think it would make you conceited. It does us a lot of good to have a sister like you; for whenever we are spoken to or introduced to a new girl--I mean a girl we haven't spoken to before--the remark invariably is, 'Oh, are you related to Betty Vivian, the Speciality?' And then--and then everything is all right, and the girls look as if they would do anything for us. We are the moon and stars, you are the sun; and it's very nice to have a sister like you.”

”Well, listen, girls. We're going to have a real good time to-morrow, and we'll forget all about school and the lessons and the chapel.”

”Oh, but I do like the chapel!” said Sylvia in a thoughtful voice. ”I love to hear Mr. Fairfax when he reads the lessons; and I think if I were in trouble about anything I could tell him, somehow.”

”Could you?” said Betty. She started slightly, and stared very hard at her sister. ”Perhaps one could,” she said after a moment's pause. ”Mr.

Fairfax is very wonderful.”

”Oh yes, isn't he?” said Hester.

”But we won't think of him to-night or to-morrow,” continued Betty, rising to her feet as she spoke. ”We must imagine ourselves back in Scotland again. Oh, it will be splendid to have that time at the Mileses' farm!”

The rest of the evening pa.s.sed without anything remarkable occurring.

Betty, as usual, was surrounded by her friends. The younger Vivian girls chatted gaily with others. Every one was quite kind and pleasant to Betty, and f.a.n.n.y Crawford left her alone. As this was quite the very best thing f.a.n.n.y could do, Betty thanked her in her heart. But that evening, just before prayer-time, Betty crossed the hall, where she had been sitting surrounded by a group of animated schoolfellows, and went up to Miss Symes. ”Have I your permission, Miss Symes,” she said, ”not to attend prayers in chapel to-night?”

”Aren't you well, Betty dear?” asked Miss Symes a little anxiously.

Betty remained silent for a minute. Then she said, ”Physically I am quite well; mentally I am not.”

”Dear Betty!”

”I can't explain it,” said Betty. ”I would just rather not attend prayers to-night. Do you mind?”

”No, dear. You haven't perhaps yet been acquainted with the fact that the Specialities are never coerced to attend prayers. They are expected to attend; but if for any reason they prefer not, questions are not asked.”