Betty Vivian Part 45

CHAPTER XXI

A RAY OF HOPE

A few minutes later the Speciality girls had left Mrs. Haddo's room.

There were to be no lessons that day; therefore they could spend their time as they liked best. But an enforced holiday of this kind was no pleasure to any of them.

Martha said at once that she was going to seek the twins. "I have left them in my room," she said. "They hardly slept all night. I never saw such dear, affectionate little creatures. They are absolutely broken-hearted. I promised to come to them as soon as I could."

"Have you asked them to trust you--to treat you as a true friend?" asked f.a.n.n.y Crawford.

"I have, f.a.n.n.y; and the strange thing is, that although beyond doubt they know pretty nearly as much about Betty's secret and about the lost packet as she does herself, poor child, they are just as reticent with regard to it. They will not tell. Nothing will induce them to betray Betty. Over and over again I have implored of them, for the sake of her life, to take me into their confidence; but I might as well have spoken to adamant. They will not do it."

"They have exactly the same stubborn nature," said f.a.n.n.y.

The other girls looked reproachfully at her.

Then Olive said, "You have never liked your cousins, f.a.n.n.y; and it does pain us all that you should speak against them at a moment like the present."

"Then I will go away," said f.a.n.n.y. "I can see quite well that my presence is uncongenial to you all. I will find my own amus.e.m.e.nts. But I may as well state that if I am to be tortured and looked down on in the school, I shall write to Aunt Amelia and ask her to take me in until father writes to Mrs. Haddo about me. You must admit, all of you, that it has been a miserable time for me since the Vivians came to the school."

"You have made it miserable yourself, f.a.n.n.y," was Susie's retort.

Then f.a.n.n.y got up and went away. A moment later she was joined by Martha West.

"f.a.n.n.y, dear f.a.n.n.y," said Martha, "won't you tell me what is changing you so completely?"

"There is nothing changing me," said f.a.n.n.y in some alarm. "What do you mean, Martha?"

"Oh, but you look so changed! You are not a bit what you used to be--so jolly, so bright, so--so very pretty. Now you have a careworn, anxious expression. I don't understand you in the very least."

"And I don't want you to," said f.a.n.n.y. "You are all bewitched with regard to that tiresome girl; even I, your old and tried friend, have no chance against her influence. When I tell you I know her far better than any of you can possibly do, you don't believe me. You suspect me of harboring unkind and jealous thoughts against her; as if I, f.a.n.n.y Crawford, could be jealous of a n.o.body like Betty Vivian!"

"f.a.n.n.y, you know perfectly well that Betty will never be a n.o.body. There is something in her which raises her altogether above the low standard to which you a.s.sign her. Oh, f.a.n.n.y, what is the matter with you?"

"Please leave me alone, Martha. If you had spent the wretched night I have spent you might look tired and worn out too. I was turned out of my bedroom, to begin with, because Sister Helen required it."

"Well, surely there was no hardship in that?" said Martha. "I, for instance, spent the night gladly with dear little Sylvia and Hester; we all had a room together in the lower school. Do you think I grumbled?"

"Oh, of course you are a saint!" said f.a.n.n.y with a sneer.

"I am not, but I think I am human; and just at present, for some extraordinary reason, you are not."

"Well, you haven't heard the history of my woes. I had to share Miss Symes's room with her."

"St. Cecilia's delightful room! Surely that was no great hardship?"

"Wait until you hear. St. Cecilia was quite kind, as she always is; and I was told that I could have a room to myself to-night. I found, to begin with, however, that most of the clothes I wanted had been left behind in my own room. Still, I made no complaint; although, of course, it was not comfortable, particularly as Miss Symes intended to sit up in order to see the doctors. But as I was preparing to get into bed, those twins--those horrid girls that you make such a fuss about, Martha--rushed into the room and put an awful spider into the center of my bed, and when I tried to get rid of it, it rushed towards me. Then I screamed out, and Susie and Olive came in. But we couldn't catch the spider nor find it anywhere. You don't suppose I was likely to go to bed with _that_ thing in the room? The fire went nearly out. I was hungry, sleepy, cold. I a.s.sure you I have my own share of misery. Then Miss Symes came in and ordered me to bed. I went, but hardly slept a wink.

And now you expect me to be as cheerful and bright and busy as a bee this morning!"

"Oh, not cheerful, poor f.a.n.n.y!--we can none of us be that with Betty in such great danger; but you can at least be busy, you can at least help others."

"Thank you," replied f.a.n.n.y; "self comes first now and then, and it does on the present occasion;" and f.a.n.n.y marched to Miss Symes's room.

Martha looked after her until she disappeared from view; then, with a heavy sigh, she went towards her own room. Here a fire was burning. Some breakfast had been brought up for the twins, for they were not expected to appear downstairs that morning. The untasted breakfast, however, remained on the little, round table beside the fire, and Sylvia and Hetty were nowhere to be seen.

"Where have they gone?" thought Martha. "Oh, I trust they haven't been so mad as to go to Betty's room!"

She considered for a few minutes. She must find the children, and she must not trouble any one else in the school about them. Dr. Ashley had paid his morning visit, and there was quietness in the corridor just outside Betty's room. Martha went there and listened. The high-strung, anxious voice was no longer heard crying aloud piteously for what it could not obtain. The door of the room was slightly ajar. Martha ventured to peep in. Betty was lying with her face towards the wall, her long, thick black hair covering the pillow, and one small hand flung restlessly outside the counterpane.

Sister Helen saw Martha, and with a wave of her hand, beckoned the girl not to come in. Martha retreated to the corridor. Sister Helen followed her.

"What do you want, dear?" said the nurse. "You cannot possibly disturb Betty. She is asleep. Both the doctor and I most earnestly hope that she may awake slightly better. Dr. Jephson is coming to see her again this evening. If by that time her symptoms have not improved he is going to bring another brain specialist down with him. Dr. Ashley is to wire him in the middle of the day, stating exactly how Betty Vivian is. If she is the least bit better, Dr. Jephson will come alone; if worse, he will bring Dr. Stephen Reynolds with him. Why, what is the matter? How pale you look!"

"You think badly of Betty, Sister Helen?"

Sister Helen did not speak for a moment except by a certain look expressed in her eyes. "Another nurse will arrive within an hour," she said, "and then I shall be off duty for a short time. What can I do for you? I mustn't stay whispering here."

"I have come to find dear Betty's little sisters."

"Oh, they left the room some time ago."

"Left the room!" said Martha. "Oh, Sister Helen, have they been here?"

"Yes, both of them, poor children. I went away to fetch some hot water.

Betty was lying very quiet; she had not spoken for nearly an hour. I hoped she was dropping asleep. When I came back I saw a sight which would bring tears to any eyes. Her two little sisters had climbed on to the bed and were lying close to her, one on each side. They didn't notice me at all; but as I came in I heard one of them say, 'Don't fret, Bettina; we are going now, at once, to find it.' And then the other said, 'And we won't come back until we've got it.' There came the ghost of a smile over my poor little patient's face. She tried to speak, but was too weak. I went up to one of the little girls and took her arm, and whispered to her gently; and then they both got up at once, as meekly as mice, and said, 'Betty, we won't come back until we've found it.' And poor little Betty smiled again. For some extraordinary reason their visit seemed to comfort her; for she sighed faintly, turned on her side, and dropped asleep, just as she is now. I must go back to her at once, Miss--Miss----"

"West," replied Martha. "Martha West is my name."

The nurse said nothing further, but returned to the sickroom. Martha went very quickly back to her own. She felt she had a task cut out for her. The twins had in all probability gone out. Their curious reticence had been the most painful part of poor Martha's night-vigil. She had to try to comfort the little girls who would not confide one particle of their trouble to her. At intervals they had broken into violent fits of sobbing, but they had never spoken; they had not even mentioned Betty's name. By and by, towards morning, they each allowed Martha to clasp one arm around them, and had dropped off into an uneasy slumber.

Now they were doubtless out of doors. But where? Martha was by no means acquainted with the haunts of the twins. She knew Sibyl Ray fairly well, and had always been kind to her; but up to the present the younger Vivian girls had not seemed to need any special kindness. They were hearty, merry children; they were popular in the school, and had made friends of their own. She wanted to seek for them now, but it never occurred to her for a single moment where they might possibly be discovered.

The grounds round Haddo Court were very extensive, and Martha did not leave a yard of these grounds unexplored, yet nowhere could she find the twins. At last she came back to the house, tired out and very miserable.

She ran once more to her own room, wondering if they were now there. The room was quite empty. The housemaid had removed the breakfast-things and built up the fire. Martha had been told as a great secret that the Vivians possessed an attic, where they kept their pets. She found the attic, but it was empty. Even d.i.c.kie had forsaken it, and the different caterpillars were all buried in their chrysalis state. Martha quickly left the Vivians' attic. She wandered restlessly and miserably through the lower school, and visited the room where she had slept, or tried to sleep, the night before. Nowhere could she find them.

Meanwhile Sylvia and Hester had done a very bold deed. They were reckless of school rules at a moment like the present. Their one and only desire was to save Betty at any cost. They knew quite well that Betty had hidden the packet, but where they could not tell. Betty had said to them in her confident young voice, "The less you know the better;" and they had trusted her, as they always would trust her as long as they lived, for Betty, to them, meant all that was n.o.ble and great and magnificent in the world.

It flashed now, however, through Sylvia's little brain that perhaps Betty had taken the lost treasure to Mrs. Miles to keep. She whispered her thought to Hester, who seized it with sudden rapture.

"We can, at least, confide in Mrs. Miles," said Hetty; "and we can tell the dogs. Perhaps the dogs could scent it out; dogs are such wonders."

"We will go straight to Mrs. Miles," said Sylvia.

Betty had told them with great glee--ah, how merry Betty was in those days!--how she had first reached the farm, of her delightful time with Dan and Beersheba, of her dinner, of her drive back. Had not they themselves also visited Stoke Farm? What a delightful, what a glorious, time they had had there! That indeed was a time of joy. Now was a time of fearful trouble. But they felt, poor little things! though they could not possibly confide either in kind Martha West or in any of their school-friends, that they might confide in Mrs. Miles.

Accordingly they managed to vault over the iron railings, get on to the roadside, and in course of time to reach Stoke Farm. The dogs rushed out to meet them. But Dan and Beersheba were sagacious beasts. They hated frivolity, they hated unfeeling people, but they respected great sorrow; and when Hetty said with a burst of tears, "Oh, Dan, Dan, darling Dan, Betty, your Betty and ours, is so dreadfully ill!" Dan fawned upon the little girl, licked her hands, and looked into her face with all the pathos in the world in his brown doggy eyes. Beersheba, of course, followed his brother's example. So the poor little twins, accompanied by the dogs, entered Mrs. Miles's kitchen.