Part 35 (1/2)
We are all fond of Betty. We think her wonderful.”
f.a.n.n.y was silent.
”'Tis good of you, Fan, to let me walk with you!”
”I have something to say to you, Sibyl; but before I begin you must promise me most faithfully that you won't repeat anything I am going to say.”
”Of course not,” said Sibyl. ”As if I could!”
”I don't suppose you would dare. You see, I am one of the older girls of the school, and have been a Speciality for some little time, and it wouldn't be at all to your advantage if you did anything to annoy me. I should find out at once, for instance, if you whispered a syllable of this to Martha West, Margaret Grant, or any other member of the Speciality Club.”
”I won't! I won't! You may trust me, indeed you may,” said Sibyl.
”I think I may,” answered f.a.n.n.y, looking down at Sibyl's poor little apology of a face. ”I think you are the sort who would be faithful.”
Sibyl's small heart swelled with pride. ”Betty was kind to me too,” she said; ”and she did make me look nice--didn't she?--when she suggested that I should wear the marguerites.”
”To tell you the truth, Sibyl, you were a figure of fun that night.
Betty was laughing in her sleeve at you all the time.”
Sibyl colored, and her small light-blue eyes contracted. ”Betty laughing at me! I don't believe it.”
”Of course she was, child. We all spoke of it afterwards. Why, you don't know what you looked like when you came into the room in that green dress, with that hideous wreath on your head.”
”I know,” said Sibyl in a humble tone. ”I couldn't make it look all right; but Betty took me behind a screen, and managed it in a twinkling, and put a white sash round my waist, and--oh, I felt nice anyhow!”
”I am glad you felt nice,” said f.a.n.n.y, ”for I can a.s.sure you it was more than you looked.”
”Oh f.a.n.n.y, don't hurt me! You know I can't afford very pretty dresses like you. We are rather poor at home, and there are so many of us.”
”I don't want to hurt you, child; only, haven't you a grain of sense?
Don't you know perfectly well why Betty wanted you to wear the wreath of marguerites?”
”Just because she was sweet,” said Sibyl, ”and she thought I'd look really nice in them.”
”That is all you know! Now, recall something, Sibyl.”
”Yes?”
”Do you remember when you saw Betty stoop over that broken stump of the old oak and take something out?”
”Of course I do,” said Sibyl. ”It was a piece of wood. I found it the next day.”
”Well, it wasn't a piece of wood,” said f.a.n.n.y.
”What can you mean?” asked Sibyl. She stood perfectly still, staring at her companion. Then she burst into a sort of frightened laugh. ”But it was a piece of wood, really,” she added. ”You are mistaken, f.a.n.n.y. Of course you know a great deal, but even you can't know more than I have proved by my own eyesight. It looked in the distance like a small brown piece of wood; and I asked Betty if it was, and she admitted it.”
”Just like her! just like her!” said f.a.n.n.y.
”Well, then, the very next day,” continued Sibyl, ”several girls and I went to the old stump and poked and poked, and found it; so, you see----”