Betty Vivian Part 20

"The boundary of my estate, dear."

"Well," said Betty, "it drove me mad. I felt I was in prison, and that the railing formed my prison bars. I vaulted over, and got into the road. I walked along for a good bit--I can't quite tell how far--but at last two dogs came bounding out of a farmyard near by. They barked at first very loudly; but I looked at them and spoke to them, and after that we were friends of course. I sat on the gra.s.s and played with them, and they--I think they loved me. All dogs do--there is nothing in that.

The farmer and his wife came out presently and seemed surprised, for they said that Dan and Beersheba were very furious."

"My dear girl--Dan and Beersheba--_those_ dogs!"

"Those were the names they called them. We call our dogs on the Scotch moors Andrew and Fritz. They are much bigger dogs than Dan and Beersheba; but Dan and Beersheba are darlings for all that. I went into the Mileses' house and had my dinner with them. It was a splendid dinner--pork and really _nice_ potatoes--and the dogs sat one on each side of me. Mrs. Haddo, I want to go to the Mileses' again some day to tea, and I want to take Sylvia and Hester with me. The Mileses don't mind about their being twins, and they'll be quite glad to see them, and Sylvia and Hester are about as fond of dogs as I am. Mrs. Miles said she was quite willing to have us if you gave leave, but not otherwise."

"Betty!" said Mrs. Haddo when the girl had ceased. She raised her head, and looked full into the wonderful, pathetic, half-humorous, half-defiant eyes, and once again between her soul and Betty's was felt that firm, sure bond of sympathy. Involuntarily the girl came two or three steps closer. Mrs. Haddo, with a gesture, invited her to kneel by her, and took one of her hands. "Betty, my child, you know why you have come to this school?"

"I am sure I don't," said Betty, "unless it is to be with you and--and Margaret Grant."

"I am glad you have made Margaret your friend. She is a splendid girl--quite the best girl in the whole school; and she likes you, Betty--she has told me so. I am given to understand that you are to have the honorable distinction of becoming a Speciality. The club is a most distinguished one, and has a beneficial effect on the tone of the upper school. I am glad that you are considered worthy to join. I know nothing about the rules; I can only say that I admire the results of its discipline on its members. But now to turn to the matter in hand. You broke a very stringent rule of the school when you got over that fence, and the breaking of a rule must be punished."

"I don't mind," said Betty in a low tone.

"But I want you to mind, Betty. I want you to be truly sorry that you broke one of my rules."

"When you put it like that," said Betty, "I do get a bit choky. Don't say too much, or perhaps I'll howl. I am not so happy as you think. I am fighting hard with myself every minute of the time."

"Poor little girl! can you tell me why you are fighting?"

"No, Mrs. Haddo, I cannot tell you."

"I will not press you, dear. Well, Betty, one of my rules is that the girls never leave the grounds without leave; and as you have broken that rule you must receive the punishment, which is that you remain in your room for the rest of the day until eight o'clock this evening, when I understand that you are due at the meeting of the Specialities."

"I will go to my room," said Betty. "I don't mind punishment at all."

"You ran a very great risk, dear, when you went into that byroad and were attacked by those fierce dogs. It was a marvel that they took to you. It is extremely wrong of Farmer Miles to have them loose, and I must speak to him."

"And please," said Betty, "may we go to tea there--we three--one evening?"

"I will see about that. Try to keep every rule. Try, with all your might and main, to conquer yourself. I am not angry with you, dear. It is impossible to tame a nature like yours, and I am the last person on earth to break your spirit. But go up to your room now, and--kiss me first."

Betty almost choked when she gave that kiss, when her eyes looked still deeper into Mrs. Haddo's beautiful eyes, and when she felt her whole heart tingle within her with that new, wonderful sensation of a love for her mistress which even exceeded her love for Margaret Grant.

CHAPTER X

RULE I. ACCEPTED

Betty's room was empty, and at that time of day was rather chill, for the three big windows were wide open in order to let in the fresh, keen air. Betty walked into the room still feeling that mysterious tingling all over her, that tingling which had been awakened by her sudden and unexpected love for Mrs. Haddo. That love had been more or less dormant within her heart from the very first; but to-day it had received a new impetus, and the curious fact was that she was almost glad to accept punishment because it was inflicted by Mrs. Haddo. Being the sort of girl she was, it occurred to her that the more severe she herself made the punishment the more efficacious it would be.

She accordingly sat down by one of the open windows, and, as a natural consequence, soon got very chilled. As she did not wish to catch cold and become a nuisance in the school, she proceeded to shut the windows, and had just done so--her fingers blue and all the beautiful glow gone from her young body--when there came a tap at the room door. Betty at first did not reply. She hoped the person, whoever that person might be, would go away. But the tap was repeated, and she was obliged in desperation to go to the door and see who was there.

"I, and I want to speak to you," replied the voice of f.a.n.n.y Crawford.

Instantly there rose a violent rebellion in Betty's heart. All her love for Mrs. Haddo, with its softening influence, vanished; it melted slowly out of sight, although, of course, it was still there. Her pleasant time at the Mileses' farm, the delightful affection of the furious dogs, the excellent dinner, the quick drive back, were forgotten as though they had never existed; and Betty only remembered Rule I., and that she hated f.a.n.n.y Crawford. She stood perfectly still in the middle of the room.

f.a.n.n.y boldly opened the door and entered. "I want to speak to you, Betty," she said.

"But I don't want to speak to you," replied Betty.

"Oh, how bitterly cold this room is!" said f.a.n.n.y, not taking much notice of this remark. "I shall light the fire myself; yes, I insist. It is all laid ready; and as it is absolutely necessary for us to have a little chat together, I may as well make the room comfortable for us both."

"But I don't want you to light the fire; I want you to go."

f.a.n.n.y smiled. "Betty, dear," she said, "don't be unreasonable. You can't dislike me as much as you imagine you do! Why should you go on in this fashion?" As f.a.n.n.y spoke she knelt down by the guard, put a match to the already well-laid fire, and soon it was crackling and roaring up the chimney.

"You are here," said f.a.n.n.y, "because you broke a rule. We all know, every one in the school knows, Mrs. Haddo is not angry, but she insists on punishment. She never, never excuses a girl who breaks a rule. The girl must pay the penalty; afterwards, things are as they were before.

It is amazing what an effect this has in keeping us all up to the mark and in order. Now, Betty--Bettina, dear--come and sit by the fire and let me hold your hands. Why, they're as blue as possible; you are quite frozen, you poor child!"

f.a.n.n.y spoke in quite a nice, soothing voice. She had the same look on her face which she had worn that evening in Margaret Grant's bedroom.

She seemed really desirous to be nice to Betty. She knew that Betty was easily influenced by kindness; this was the case, for even f.a.n.n.y did not seem quite so objectionable when she smiled sweetly and spoke gently. She now drew two chairs forward, one for herself and one for Betty. Betty had been intensely cold, and the pleasant glow of the fire was grateful. She sank into the chair which f.a.n.n.y offered her with very much the air of being the proprietor of the room, and not Betty, and waited for her companion to speak. She did not notice that f.a.n.n.y had placed her own chair so that the back was to the light, whereas Betty sat where the full light from the three big windows fell on her face.

"Well, now, I call this real comfy!" said f.a.n.n.y. "They will send up your tea, you know, and you can have a book from the school library if you like. I should recommend 'The Daisy Chain' or 'The Heir of Redclyffe.'"

"I don't want any books, thanks," said Betty.

"But don't you love reading?"

"I can't tell you. Perhaps I do, perhaps I don't."

"Betty, won't you tell me anything?"

"f.a.n.n.y, I have nothing to tell you."

"Oh, Betty, with a face like yours--nothing!"

"Nothing at all--to you," replied Betty.

"But to others--for instance," said f.a.n.n.y, still keeping her good temper, "to Margaret Grant, or to Mrs. Haddo?"

"They are different," said Betty.

f.a.n.n.y was silent for a minute. Then she said, "I want to tell you something, and I want to be quite frank. You have made a very great impression so far in the school. For your age and your little experience, you are in a high cla.s.s, and all your teachers speak well of you. You are the sort of girl who is extremely likely to be popular--to have, in short, a following. Now, I don't suppose there is in all the world anything, Betty Vivian, that would appeal to a nature like yours so strongly as to have a following--to have other girls hanging on your words, understanding your motives, listening to what you say, perhaps even trying to copy you. You will be very difficult to copy, Betty, because you are a rare piece of original matter. Nevertheless, all these things lie before you if you act warily now."

"Go on," said Betty; "it is interesting to hear one's self discussed. Of course, Fan, you have a motive for saying all this to me. What is it?"

"I have," said f.a.n.n.y.

"You had better explain your motive. Things will be easier for us both afterwards, won't they?"

"Yes," said f.a.n.n.y in a low tone, "that is true."

"Go on, then," said Betty.