CHAPTER XV
A GREAT DETERMINATION
The visit to the farm was long remembered by Betty Vivian. It was theone bright oasis, the one brilliant spark of intense enjoyment, in adark week. For each day the shadow of what lay before her--and of whatshe, Betty Vivian, had made up her mind to do--seemed to creep lower andlower over her horizon, until, when Thursday morning dawned, it seemedto Betty that there was neither sun, moon, nor stars in her heaven.
But if Betty lacked much and was full of grave and serious thoughts,there was one quality, admirable in itself, which she had to perfection,and that was her undoubted bravery. To make up her mind to do a certainthing was, with Betty Vivian, to do it. She had not quite made up hermind on Saturday; but on Sunday morning she had very nearly done so, andon Sunday evening she had quite done so. On Sunday evening, therefore,she knelt rather longer than the others, struggling and praying in thebeautiful chapel; and when she raised her small white face, and met theeyes of the chaplain fixed on her, a thrill went through her. He, atleast, would understand, and, if necessary, give her sympathy. But justat present she did not need sympathy, or rather she would not ask forit. She had great self-control, and she kept her emotions so absolutelyto herself that no one guessed what she was suffering. Every day, everyhour, she was becoming more and more the popular girl of the school; forBetty had nothing mean in her nature, and could love frankly andgenerously. She could listen to endless confidences without dreaming ofbetraying them, and the girls got to know that Betty Vivian invariablymeant what she said. One person, however, she avoided, and that personwas Fanny Crawford.
Thursday passed in its accustomed way: school in the morning, withrecess; school in the afternoon, followed by play, games of all sorts,and many another delightful pastime. Betty went for a walk with her twosisters; and presently, almost before they knew, they found themselvessurveying their three little plots of ground in the gardens, which theyhad hitherto neglected. While they were so employed, Mrs. Haddo quiteunexpectedly joined them.
"Oh, my dear girls, why, you have done nothing here--nothing at all!"
Sylvia said, "We are going to almost immediately, Mrs. Haddo."
And Hetty said, "I quite love gardening. I was only waiting until Bettygave the word."
"So you two little girls obey Betty in all things?" said Mrs. Haddo,glancing at the elder girl's face.
"We only do it because we love to," was the response.
"Well, my dears, I am surprised! Why, there isn't a sight of your Scotchheather! Has it died? What has happened to it?"
"We made a burnt-offering of it," said Betty suddenly.
"You did what?" said Mrs. Haddo in some astonishment.
"You see," said Betty, "it was this way." She now looked full up at hermistress. "The Scotch heather could not live in exile. So we burnt it,and set all the fairies free. They are in Aberdeenshire now, and quitehappy."
"What a quaint idea!" said Mrs. Haddo. "You must tell me more about thisby-and-by, Betty."
Betty made no answer.
"Meanwhile," continued Mrs. Haddo, who felt puzzled at the girl'smanner, she scarcely knew why, "I will tell a gardener to have thegardens well dug and laid out in little walks. I will also have the bedsprepared, and then you must consult Birchall about the sort of thingsthat grow best in this special plot of ground. Let me see, this isThursday. I have no doubt Birchall could have a consultation with you onthe subject this very minute if you like to see him."
"Oh yes, please!" said Sylvia.
But Betty drew back. "Do you greatly mind if we do nothing about ourgardens until next week?" she asked.
"If you prefer it, certainly," answered Mrs. Haddo. "The plots of groundare your property while you stay at Haddo Court. You can neglect them,or you can tend them. Some of the girls of this school have verybeautiful gardens, full of sweet, smiling flowers; others, again, donothing at all in them. I never praise those who cultivate their littlepatch of garden-ground, and I never blame those who neglect it. It isall a matter of feeling. In my opinion, the garden is meant to be adelight; those who do not care for it miss a wonderful joy, but I don'tinterfere." As Mrs. Haddo spoke she nodded to the girls, and then walkedquietly back towards the house.
"Wasn't it funny of her to say that a garden was meant to be adelight?" said Sylvia. "Oh Betty, don't you love her very much?"
"Don't ask me," said Betty, and her voice was a little choked.
"Betty," said Sylvia, "you seem to get paler and paler. I am sure youmiss Aberdeenshire."
"Miss it!" said Betty; "miss it! Need you ask?"
This was the one peep that her sisters were permitted to get into BettyVivian's heart before the meeting of the Specialities that evening.
Olive Repton was quite excited preparing for her guests. School hadbecome much more interesting to her since Betty's arrival. Martha wasalso a sort of rock of comfort to lean upon. Margaret, of course, wasalways charming. Margaret Grant was Margaret Grant, and there nevercould be her second; but the two additional members gave undoubtedsatisfaction to the others--that is, with the exception of FannyCrawford, who had, however, been most careful not to say one wordagainst Betty since she became a Speciality.
Olive's room was not very far from the Vivians', and as Betty on thisspecial night was hurrying towards the appointed meeting-place she cameacross Fanny. Between Fanny and herself not a word had been exchangedfor several days.
Fanny stopped her now. "Are you ill, Betty?" she said.
Betty shook her head.
"I wish to tell you," said Fanny, "that, after very carefullyconsidering everything, I have made up my mind that it is not my placeto interfere with you. If your conscience allows you to keep silent Ishall not speak. That is all."
"Thank you, Fanny," replied Betty. She stood aside and motioned to Fannyto pass her. Fanny felt, for some unaccountable reason, strangelyuncomfortable. The cloud which had been hanging over Betty seemed tovisit Fanny's heart also. For the first time since her cousin's arrivalshe almost pitied her.
Olive's room was very bright. She had a good deal of individual taste,and as the gardeners were always allowed to supply the Specialities withflowers for their weekly meetings and their special entertainments,Olive had her room quite gaily decorated. Smilax hung in gracefulfestoons from several vases and trailed in a cunning pattern round thelittle supper-table; cyclamen, in pots, further added to thedecorations; and there were still some very beautiful whitechrysanthemums left in the green-house, a careful selection of which hadbeen made by Birchall that day for the young ladies' festivities.
And now all the girls were present, and supper began. Hitherto, duringthe few meetings of the Specialities that had taken place since shebecame a member, Betty's voice had sounded brisk and lively; Betty'smerry, sweet laugh had floated like music in the air; and Betty'scharming face had won all hearts, except that of her cousin. Butto-night she was quite grave. She sat a little apart from the others,hardly eating or speaking. Suddenly she got up, took a book from ashelf, and began to read. This action on her part caused the other girlsto gaze at her in astonishment.
Margaret said, "Is anything the matter, Betty? You neither eat norspeak. You are not at all like our dear, lively Speciality to-night."
"I don't want to eat, and I have nothing to say just yet," answeredBetty. "Please don't let me spoil sport. I saw this book of yours,Olive, and I wanted to find a certain verse in it. Ah, here it is!"
"What is the verse?" asked Olive. "Please read it aloud, Betty."
Betty obeyed at once.
"Does the road wind uphill all the way? Yes, to the very end. Will the day's journey take the whole long day? From morn to night, my friend."
There was a dead silence after Betty had read these few words ofChristina Rossetti. The girls glanced from one to another. For a minuteor so, at least, they could not be frivolous. Then Olive made a pertremark; another girl laughed; and the cloud, small at present as a man'shand, seemed to vanish. Betty replaced her b
ook on Olive's book-shelf,and sat quite still and quiet. She knew she was a wet blanket--not thelife and soul of the meeting, as was generally the case. She knew wellthat Margaret Grant was watching her with anxiety, that Martha West andalso Fanny Crawford were puzzled at her conduct. As to the rest of theSpecialities, it seemed to Betty that they did not go as far down intothe root of things as did Margaret and Martha.
This evening was to be one of the ordinary entertainments of the guildor club. There was nothing particular to discuss. The girls were,therefore, to enjoy themselves by innocent chatter and happyconfidences, and games if necessary.
When, therefore, they all left the supper-table, Margaret, as president,said, "We have no new member to elect to-night, therefore our six rulesneed not be read aloud; and we have no entertainment to talk over, forour next entertainment will not take place for some little time. I say,therefore, girls, that the club is open to the amusement of all themembers. We are free agents, and can do what we like. Our object, ofcourse, will be to promote the happiness of each and all. Now, SusieRushworth, what do you propose that we shall do this evening?"
Susie said in an excited voice that she would like to spend a good hourover that exceedingly difficult and delightful game of "telegrams" andadded further that she had brought slips of paper and pencils for thepurpose.
A similar question was asked of each girl, and each girl made a proposalaccording to her state of mind.
Betty was about the fourth girl to be asked. She rose to her feet andsaid gravely, "I would propose that Susie Rushworth and the othermembers of the Specialities have their games and fun afterwards; but Ihave a short story to tell, and I should like to tell it first, if thosepresent are agreeable."
Margaret felt that the little cloud as big as a man's hand had returned,and that it had grown much bigger. A curious sense of alarm stole overher. Martha, meanwhile, stared full at Betty, wondering what the girlwas going to do. Her whole manner was strange, aloof, and mysterious.
"We will, of course, allow you to speak, Betty dear. We are alwaysinterested in what you say," said Margaret in her gentlest tone.
Betty came forward into the room. She stood almost in the center,unsupported by any chair, her hands clasped in front of her, her eyesfixed on Margaret Grant's face. Just for a minute there was a deadsilence, for the girl's face expressed tragedy; and it was impossiblefor any one to think of "telegrams," or frivolous games, or of anythingin the world but Betty Vivian at the present moment.
"I have something to say," she began. "It has only come to me verygradually that it is necessary for me to say it. I think the necessityfor speech arose when I found I could not go to chapel."
"My dear Betty!" said Margaret.
"There were one or two nights," continued Betty, "when I could notattend."
"Betty," said the voice of Fanny Crawford, "don't you think this room isa little hot, and that you are feeling slightly hysterical? Wouldn'tyou rather--rather go away?"
"No, Fanny," said Betty as she almost turned her back on the other girl.Her nervousness had now left her, and she began to speak with her oldanimation. "May I repeat a part of Rule No. I.: 'Each girl who is amember of the Specialities keeps no secret to herself which the othermembers ought to know'?"
"That is perfectly true," said Margaret.
"I _have_ a secret," said Betty. After having uttered these words shelooked straight before her. "At one time," she continued, "I thought I'dtell. Then I thought I wouldn't. Now I am going to tell. I could havetold Mrs. Haddo had I seen enough of her--and you, Margaret, if ever youhad drawn me out. I could have told you two quite differently from themanner in which I am going to tell that which I ought to speak of. Istand now before the rest of you members of the Speciality Club asguilty, for I have deliberately broken Rule No. I."
"Go on, Betty," said Margaret. She pushed a chair towards the girl,hoping she would put her hand upon it in order to steady herself.
But Betty seemed to have gathered firmness and strength from herdetermination to speak out. She was trembling no longer, nor was herface so deadly pale. "I will tell you all my secret," she said. "BeforeI came here I had great trouble. One I loved most dearly and who was amother to me, died. She died in a little lonely house in Scotland. Shewas poor, and could not do much either for my sisters or myself. Beforeher death she sent for me one day, and told me that we should be poor,but she hoped we would be well-educated; and then she said that she wasleaving us girls something of value which was in a small, brown, sealedpacket, and that the packet was to be found in a certain drawer in herwriting-table. She told me that it would be of great use to us threewhen we most needed it.
"We were quite heartbroken when she died. I left her room feelingstunned. Then I thought of the packet, and I went into the littledrawing-room where all my aunt's treasures were kept. It was dusk when Iwent in. I found the packet, and took it away. I meant to keep itcarefully. I did keep it carefully. I still keep it carefully. I don'tknow what is in it.
"I have told you as much as I can tell you with regard to the packet,but there is something else to follow. I had made up my mind to keep thepacket, being fully persuaded in my heart that Aunt Frances meant me todo so; but when Sir John Crawford came to Aberdeenshire, and visitedCraigie Muir, and spent a night with us in the little gray housepreparatory to bringing us to Haddo Court, he mentioned that he hadreceived, amongst different papers of my aunt's, a document or letter--Iforget which--alluding to this packet. He said she was anxious that thepacket should be carefully kept for me and for my sisters, and he askedme boldly and directly if I knew anything about it. I don't excusemyself in the least, and, as a matter of fact, I don't blame myself. Itold him I didn't know anything about it. He believed me. You see,girls, that I told a lie, and was not at all sorry.
"We came here. I put the packet away into a safe hiding-place. Then,somehow or other, you all took me up and were specially kind to me, andI think my head was a bit turned; it seemed so charming to be aSpeciality and to have a great deal to do with you, Margaret, and indeedwith you all more or less. So I said to myself, I haven't broken RuleNo. I., for that rule says that 'no secret is to be kept by oneSpeciality from another if the other ought really to know about it.' Itried to persuade myself that you need not know about the packet--thatit was no concern of yours. But, somehow, I could not go on. There wassomething about the life here, and--and Mrs. Haddo, and the chapel, andyou, Margaret, which made the whole thing impossible. I have not beenone scrap frightened into telling you this. But now I have told you. Ido possess the packet, and I did tell a lie about it. That is all."
Betty ceased speaking. There was profound stillness in the room.
Then Margaret said very gently, "Betty, I am sure that I am speaking inthe interests of all who love you. You will tell this story to-morrowmorning to dear Mrs. Haddo, and it will rest with her whether you remaina member of the Specialities or not. Your frank confession to us,although it is a little late in the day, and the peculiar circumstancesattending your gaining possession of the packet, incline us to belenient to you--if only, Betty, you will now do the one thing left toyou, and give the packet up--put it, in short, into Mrs. Haddo's hands,so that she may keep it until Sir John Crawford, who is your guardian,returns."
Betty's face had altered in expression. The sweetness and penitence hadgone. "I have told you everything," she said. "I should have told youlong ago. I blame myself bitterly for not doing so. But I may as welladd that this story is not for Mrs. Haddo; that what I tell you inconfidence you cannot by any possibility relate to her--for that,surely, must be against the rules of the club; also, that I will notgive the packet up, nor will I tell any one in this room where I havehidden it."
If Betty Vivian had looked interesting, and in the opinion of some ofthe girls almost penitent, up to this moment, she now looked so nolonger. The expression on her face was bold and defiant. Her curiouseyes flashed fire, and a faint color came into her usually pale cheeks.She had never looked more beautiful, but the spi
rit of defiance was inher. She was daring the school. She meant to go on daring it.
The girls were absolutely silent. Never before in their sheltered andquiet lives had they come across a character like Betty's. Such acharacter was bound to interest them from the very first. It interestedthem now up to a point that thrilled them. They could scarcely containthemselves. They considered Betty extremely wicked; but in their heartsthey admired her for this, and wondered at her amazing courage.
Margaret, who saw deeper, broke the spell. "Betty," she said, "will yougo away now? You have told us, and we understand. We will talk thismatter over, and let you know our decision to-morrow. But, first, justsay once again what you have said already--that you will not give thepacket up, nor tell any one where you have hidden it."
"I have spoken," answered Betty; "further words are useless."
She walked towards the door. Susie Rushworth sprang to open it for her.She passed out, and walked proudly down the corridor. The remaininggirls were left to themselves.
Margaret said, "Well, I am bewildered!"
The others said nothing at all. This evening was one of the mostexciting they had ever spent. What were "telegrams" or any stupid gamescompared to that extraordinary girl and her extraordinary revelation?
Margaret was, of course, the first to recover her self-control. "Now,girls," she said, "we must talk about this; and, first, I want to ask aquestion: Was there any member of the Specialities who knew of this--Iam afraid I must call it by its right name--this crime of BettyVivian's?"
"I knew," said Fanny. Her voice was very low and subdued.
"Then, Fanny, please come forward and tell us what you knew."
"I don't think I can add to Betty's own narrative," said Fanny, "only Ihappened to be a witness to the action. I was lying down on the sofa inthe little drawing-room at Craigie Muir when Betty stole in and took thepacket out of Miss Vivian's writing-table drawer. She did not see me,and went away at once, holding the packet in her hand. I thought itqueer of her at the time, but did not feel called upon to make anyremark. You must well remember, girls, that I alone of all theSpecialities was unwilling to have Betty admitted as a member of theclub. I could see by your faces that you were surprised at my conduct.You were amazed that I, her cousin, should have tried to stop Betty'sreceiving this extreme honor. I did so because of that packet. Theknowledge that she had taken it oppressed me in a strange way at thetime, but it oppressed me much more strongly when my father said to methat there was a little sealed packet belonging to Miss Vivian whichcould not be found. I immediately remembered that Betty had taken away asealed packet. I asked him if he had spoken about it, and he said hehad; in especial he had spoken to Betty, who had denied all knowledge ofit."
"Well," said Margaret, "she told us that herself to-night. You have notadded to or embellished her story or strengthened it in any way, Fanny."
"I know that," said Fanny. "But I have to add now that I did not wishher to join the club, and did my very utmost to dissuade her. When I sawthat it was useless I held my tongue; but you must all have noticedthat, although she is my cousin, we have not been special friends."
"Yes, we have noticed it," said Olive gloomily, "and--and wondered atit," she continued.
"I am sorry for Betty, of course," continued Fanny.
"It was very fine of her to confess when she did," said Margaret.
"It would have been fine of her," replied Fanny, "if she had carried herconfession to its right conclusion--if what she told us she had told toMrs. Haddo and given up the packet. Now, you see, she refuses to doeither of these things; so I don't see that her confession amounts toanything more than a mere spirit of bravado."
"Oh no, I cannot agree with you there," said Margaret. "It is my opinion(of course, not knowing all the circumstances) that Betty's sinconsisted in telling your father a lie--not in taking the little packet,which she believed she had a right to keep. But we need not discuss hersins, for we all of us have many--perhaps many more than poor dear BettyVivian. What we must consider is what we are to do at the present time.The Specialities have hitherto kept constantly to their rules. I greatlyfear, girls, that we cannot keep Betty as a member of the club unlessshe changes her mind with regard to the packet. If she does, I think Imust put it to the vote whether we will overlook this sin of hers andkeep her as one of the members, for we love her notwithstanding hersin."
"Yes, put it to the vote--put it to the vote!" said Susie Rushworth.
Again all hands were raised except Fanny's.
"Fan--Fanny Crawford, you surely agree with us?" said Margaret.
"No, I do not," said Fanny. "I think if the club is worth anything weought not to have a girl in it who told a lie."
"Ah," said Margaret, "don't you remember that very old story: 'Let himwho is without sin among you cast the first stone'?" Then she continued,speaking in her sweet and noble voice, "I will own there is somethingabout Betty which most wonderfully attracts me."
"That sort of charm is fatal," said Fanny.
"But," continued Margaret, taking no notice of Fanny's remark, "thatsort of charm which she possesses, that sort of fascination--call itwhat you will--may be at once her ruin or her salvation. If weSpecialities are unkind to her now, if we don't show her all duecompassion and tenderness, she may grow hard. We are certainly bound byevery honorable rule not to mention one word of this to Mrs. Haddo or toany of the teachers. Are we, or are we not, to turn our backs on BettyVivian?"
"If she confesses," said Fanny, "and returns the packet, you havealready decided by a majority of votes to allow her to retain herposition in the club."
"Yes," said Margaret, "that is quite true. But suppose she does notconfess, suppose she sticks to her resolve to keep the packet and nottell any one where she has hidden it, what then?"
"Ah, what then?" said they all.
Olive, the Bertrams, Susie, Martha, Margaret herself, looked full oftrouble. Fanny's cheeks were pink with excitement. She had never likedBetty. In her heart of hearts she knew that she was full of uncharitablethoughts against her own cousin. And how was it, notwithstanding Betty'signoble confession, the other girls still loved her?
"What do you intend to do, supposing she does not confess?" said Fannyafter a pause.
"In that case," answered Margaret, "having due regard to the rules ofthe club, I fear we have no alternative--she must resign her membership,she must cease to be a Speciality. We shall miss her, and beyond doubtwe shall still love her. But she must not continue to be a Specialityunless she restores the packet."
Fanny simulated a slight yawn. She knew well that Betty's days as aSpeciality were numbered.
"She was so brilliant, so vivid!" exclaimed Susie.
"There was no one like her," said Olive, "for suggesting all kinds oflovely things. And then her story-telling--wasn't she just glorious!"
"We mustn't think of any of those things," said Margaret. "But I thinkwe may all pray--yes, pray--for Betty herself. I, for one, love herdearly. I love her notwithstanding what she said to-night."
"I think it was uncommonly plucky of her to stand up and tell us whatshe did," remarked Martha, speaking for the first time. "She needn'thave done it, you know. It was entirely a case of conscience."
"Yes, that is it; it was fine of her," said Margaret. "Now, girls,suppose we have a Speciality meeting to-morrow night? You know by ourrules we are allowed to have particular meetings. I will give my roomfor the purpose; and suppose we ask Betty to join us there?"
"Agreed!" said they all; and after a little more conversation theSpecialities separated, having no room in their hearts for games or anyother frivolous nonsense that evening.