CHAPTER VI
A CRISIS
The Specialities had made firm rules for themselves. Their numbers werefew, for only those who could really rise to a high ideal were permittedto join.
The head of the Specialities was Margaret Grant. It was she who firstthought of this little scheme for bringing the girls she loved best intocloser communion each with the other. She had consulted Susie Rushworth,Fanny Crawford, Mary and Julia Bertram, and Olive Repton. Up to thepresent there were no other members of the Speciality Club. These girlsmanaged it their own way. They had their private meetings, their earnestconversations, and their confessions each to make to the other. Theyswore eternal friendship. They had all things in common--that is,concealments were not permitted amongst the Specialities; and theinfluence of this small and apparently unimportant club did much towardsthe formation of the characters of its members.
Now, as poor Fanny sat alone in her pretty room she thought, andthought again, over what had occurred. According to the rules of theclub to which she belonged, she ought to consult the other girls withregard to what the Vivians had done. _The_ great rule of theSpecialities was "No secrets." Each must know all that the others knew.Never before in the annals of the school had there been a secret of suchimportance--in short, such a horrible secret--to divulge. Fanny made upher mind that she could not do it.
There was to be a great meeting of the Specialities on the followingevening. They usually met in each other's bedrooms, taking the task ofoffering hospitality turn and turn about. At these little socialgatherings they had cocoa, tempting cakes, and chocolate creams; herethey laughed and chatted, sometimes having merely a merry evening, atothers discussing gravely the larger issues of life. Fanny was the onewho was to entertain the Specialities on the following evening, and shemade preparations accordingly. Sir John had brought her a particularlytempting cake from Buzzard's, a couple of pounds of the best chocolatecreams, a tin of delicious cocoa, and, last but not least, a beautifullittle set of charming cups and saucers and tiny plates, and real silverspoons, also little silver knives. Notwithstanding her grief at partingfrom her father, Fanny was delighted with her present. Hitherto therehad been no attempt at style in these brief meetings of the friends. ButFanny's next entertainment was to be done properly.
There was no secret about these gatherings. Miss Symes had been toldthat these special girls wanted to meet once a week between nine and teno'clock in their respective bedrooms. She had carried the information toMrs. Haddo, who had immediately given the desired permission, tellingthe girls that they might hold their meeting until the great bell rangfor chapel. Prayers were always read at a quarter to ten in thebeautiful chapel belonging to Haddo Court, but only the girls of theupper school attended in the evening. Fanny would have been in thehighest spirits to-night were it not for the Vivians, were it not forthe consciousness that she was in possession of a secret--a reallyterrible secret--which she must not tell to her companions. Yes, shemust break her rule; she must not tell.
She lay down on her bed at last and fell asleep, feeling tired and verymiserable. She was horrified at Betty's conduct with regard to thelittle packet, and could not feel a particle of sympathy for the othergirls in the matter.
It was soon after midnight on that same eventful night. The great clockover the stables had struck twelve, and sweet chimes had come from theother clock in the little tower of the chapel. The whole house waswrapped in profound slumber. Even Mrs. Haddo had put away all cares, andhad laid her head on her pillow; even the Rev. Edmund Fairfax and hiswife had put out the lights in their special wing of the Court, and hadgone to sleep.
It was shortly after the clocks had done their midnight work that BettyVivian raised herself very slowly and cautiously on her elbow, andtouched Sylvia on her low, white forehead. The little girl started,opened her eyes, and was about to utter an exclamation when Bettywhispered, "Don't make a sound, silly Sylvia! It's only me--Betty. Iwant you to get very wide awake. And now you are wide awake, aren'tyou?"
"Yes, oh yes," said Sylvia; "but I don't know where I am. Oh yes, ofcourse I remember; I am in----"
"You are in prison!" whispered Betty back to her. "Now, lie as still asa statue while I waken Hester."
Soon the two little sisters were wide awake.
"Now, both of you creep very softly into my bed. We can all squeeze uptogether if we try hard."
"Lovely, darlingest Betty!" whispered Sylvia.
"You are nice, Bet!" exclaimed Hester.
"Now I want to speak," said Betty. "You know the packet?"
The two younger girls squeezed Betty's hands by way of answer.
"You know how _she_ spoke to-night?"
Another squeeze of Betty's hands, a squeeze which was almost ferociousthis time.
"Do you think," continued Betty, "that she is going to have her way, andwe are going to give it up to her?"
"Of course not," said Sylvia.
"I might," said Betty--"I _might_ have asked Mrs. Haddo to look after itfor me; but never now--never! Girls, we've got to bury it!"
"Oh Bet!" whispered Sylvia.
"We can't!" said Hester with a sort of little pant.
"We can, and we will," said Betty. "I've thought it all out. I am goingto bury it my own self this very minute."
"Betty, how--where? Betty, what do you mean?"
"You must help me," said Betty. "First of all, I am going to get up andput on my thick skirt of black serge. I won't make a sound, for thatcreature Fan sleeps next door. Lie perfectly still where you are while Iam getting ready."
The girls obeyed. It was fearfully exciting, lying like this almost inthe dark; for there was scarcely any moon, and the dim light in thegarden could hardly be called light at all. Betty moved mysteriouslyabout the room, and presently came up to her two sisters.
"Now, you do exactly what you are told."
"Yes, Betty, we will."
"I am going, first of all," said Betty, "to fetch the little spade."
"Oh Bet, you'll wake the house!"
"No," said Betty. She moved towards the door. She was a very observantgirl, and had noticed that no door creaked in that well-conductedmansion, that no lock was out of order. She managed to open the door ofher bedroom without making the slightest sound. She managed to creepupstairs and reach the Vivian attic. She found the little spade andbrought it down again. She re-entered the beautiful big bedroom andclosed the door softly.
"Here's the spade!" she whispered to her sisters. "Did you hear memove?"
"No, Bet. Oh, you are wonderful!"
"Now," said Betty, "we must take the sheets off our three beds. Thethree top sheets will do. Sylvia, begin to knot the sheets together.Make the knots very strong, and be quick about it."
Sylvia obeyed without a word.
"Hester, come and help me," said Betty now. She took the other twin'shand and led her to one of the French windows. The window happened to bea little open, for the night was a very warm and balmy one. Betty pushedit wider open, and the next minute she was standing on the balcony.
"Go back," she whispered, speaking to Hester, "and bring Sylvia out withthe sheets!"
In a very short time Sylvia appeared, dragging what looked like atangled white rope along with her.
"Now, then," said Betty, "you've got to let me down to the ground bymeans of these sheets. I am a pretty good weight, you know, and youmustn't drop me; for if you did I might break my leg or something, andthat would be horrid. You two have got to hold one end of these knottedsheets as firmly as ever you can, and not let go on any account. Now,then--here goes!"
The next instant Betty had clutched hold of one of the sheets herself,and had climbed over the somewhat high parapet of the balcony. A minutelater, still firmly holding the white rope, she was gradually lettingherself down to the ground, hand over hand. By-and-by she reached thebottom. When she did this she held up both hands, which the girls, asthey watched her from above, could just see. She was demanding thelittle spade. Sylvia flung it on t
he soft grass which lay beneath. Bettyput her hand, making a sort of trumpet of it, round her lips, andwhispered up, "Stay where you are till I return."
She then marched off into the shrubbery. She was absent for about twentyminutes, during which time both Sylvia and Hetty felt exceedingly cold.She then came back, fastened the little spade securely into the broadbelt of her dress, and, aided by her sisters, pulled herself up and up,and so on to the balcony once more.
The three girls re-entered the bedroom. Not a soul in that great househad heard them, or seen them, or knew anything about their adventure.
"It is quite safe now--poor, beautiful darling!" whispered Betty."Girls, we must smooth out these sheets; they _do_ look rather dragged.And now we'll get straight into bed."
"I am very cold," said Sylvia.
"You'll be warm again in a minute," replied Betty; "and what does alittle cold matter when I have saved _It_? No, I am not going to tellyou where it is; just because it's safer, dear, dearest, for you not toknow."
"Yes, it's safer," said Sylvia.
The three sisters lay down again. By slow degrees warmth returned to thehalf-frozen limbs of the poor little twins, and they dropped asleep. ButBetty lay awake--warm, excited, triumphant.
"I've managed things now," she thought; "and if every girl in the schoolasks me if I have a little packet, and if every teacher does likewise,I'll be able truthfully to say 'No.'"
Early the next morning Mrs. Haddo announced her intention to take theVivians to London. School-work was in full swing that day; and Susie,Margaret, Olive, and the other members of the Specialities rather enviedthe Vivians when they saw them driving away in Mrs. Haddo's most elegantlandau to the railway station.
Sibyl Ray openly expressed her sentiments on the occasion. She turned toher companion, who was standing near. "I must say, and I may as well sayit first as last, that I do not understand your adorable Mrs. Haddo. Whyshould she make such a fuss over common-looking girls like those?"
"Do you call the Vivians common-looking girls?" was Martha West'sresponse.
"Of course I do, and even worse. Why, judging from their dress, theymight have come out of a laborer's cottage."
"Granted," replied Martha; "but then," she added, "they have somethingelse, each of them, better than dress."
"Oh, if you begin to talk in enigmas I for one shall cease to be yourfriend," answered Sibyl. "What have they got that is so wonderful?"
"It was born in them," replied Martha. "If you can't see it foryourself, Sibyl, I am not able to show it to you."
Mrs. Haddo took the girls to London and gave them a very good day. It istrue they spent a time which seemed intolerably long to Betty in havingpretty white blouses and smartly made skirts and neat little jacketsfitted on. They spent a still more intolerable time at the dressmaker'sin being measured for soft, pretty evening-dresses. They went to ahairdresser, who cut their very thick hair and tied it with broad blackribbon. They next went to a milliner and had several hats tried on. Theywent to a sort of all-round shop, where they bought gloves, boots, andhandkerchiefs innumerable, and some very soft black cashmere and evenblack silk stockings. Oh, but _they_ didn't care; they thought thewhole time wasted. Nevertheless they submitted, and with a certaingrace; for was not the precious packet safe--so safe that no one couldpossibly discover its whereabouts? And was not Betty feeling her queer,sensitive heart expanding more and more under Mrs. Haddo's kindinfluence?
"Now, my dears," said that good lady, "we will go back to Miss Watts thedressmaker at three o clock; but we have still two hours to spare.During that time we'll have a little lunch, for I am sure you must behungry; and afterwards I will take you to the Wallace Collection, whichI think you will enjoy."
"What's a collection?" asked Sylvia.
"There are some rooms not far from here where beautiful things arecollected--pictures and other lovely things of all sorts anddescriptions. I think that you, at least, Betty, will love to look atthem."
Betty afterwards felt, deep down in her heart, that this whole day was awonderful dream. She was starvingly hungry, to begin with, and enjoyedthe excellent lunch that Mrs. Haddo ordered at the confectioners. Shefelt a sense of curious joy and fear as she looked at one or two of thegreat pictures in the Wallace Collection, and so excited and upliftedwas she altogether that she scarcely noticed when they returned to theshops and the coarse, ugly black serges were exchanged for pretty coatsand skirts of the finest cloth, for neat little white blouses, forpretty shoes and fine stockings. She did not even object to the hat,which, with its plume of feathers, gave a look of distinction to herlittle face. She was not elated over her fine clothes, neither was sheannoyed about them.
"Now, Miss Watts," said Mrs. Haddo in a cheerful tone, "you will hurrywith the rest of the young ladies' things, and send them to me as soonas ever you can. I shall want their evening-dresses, without fail, bythe beginning of next week."
They all went down into the street. Sylvia found herself casting shyglances at Betty. It seemed to her that her sister was changed--that shescarcely knew her. Dress did not make such a marked difference inHetty's appearance; but Hetty too looked a different girl.
"And now we are going to the Zoological Gardens," said Mrs. Haddo,"where we may find some spiders like Dickie, and where you will see allsorts of wonderful creatures."
"Oh Mrs. Haddo!" exclaimed Betty.
They spent an hour or two in that place so fascinating for children, andarrived back at Haddo Court just in time for supper.
"We have had a happy day, have we not?" said Mrs. Haddo, looking intoBetty's face and observing the brightness of her eyes.
"Very happy, and it was you who gave it to us," answered the girl.
"And to-morrow," continued Mrs. Haddo, "must be just as happy--just ashappy--because lessons will begin; and to an intelligent and clever girlthere is nothing in the world so delightful as a difficulty conqueredand knowledge acquired."
That evening, when the Vivian girls entered the room where supper wasserved, every girl in the upper school turned to look at them. Thechange in their appearance was at once complete and arresting. Theywalked well by nature. They were finely made girls, and had not a scrapof self-consciousness.
"Oh, I say, Fan," whispered Susie in her dear friend's ear, "yourcousins will boss the whole school if this sort of thing goes on. To befrank with you, Fan, I have fallen in love with that magnificent Bettymyself. There is nothing I wouldn't do for her."
"You ought not to whisper in English, ought you?" was Fanny's verysignificant response, uttered in the German tongue.
Susie shrugged her shoulders. The Specialities generally sat close toeach other; and she looked down the table now, and saw that Margaret,and the Bertrams, and Olive Repton were equally absorbed in watching theVivian girls. Nothing more was said about them, however; and when themeal came to an end Miss Symes took them away with her, to give thembrief directions with regard to their work for the morrow. She alsosupplied them with a number of new books, which Betty received withrapture, for she adored reading, and hitherto had hardly been able toindulge in it. Miss Symes tried to explain to the girls something of theschool routine; and she showed each girl her own special desk in thegreat schoolroom, where she could keep her school-books, and herdifferent papers, pens, pencils, ink, etc.
"I cannot tell until to-morrow what forms you will be in, my dears; butI think Betty will probably have a good deal to do with me in her dailytuition; whereas you, Sylvia, and you, Hester, will be under the chargeof Miss Oxley. I must introduce you to Miss Oxley to-morrow morning. Andnow you would like, I am sure, to go to bed. Mrs. Haddo says that youneedn't attend prayers to-night, for you have had a long and tiring day;so you may go at once to your room."
The girls thanked Miss Symes, and went. They heard voices busilyconversing in Fanny's room--eager voices, joined to occasional peals ofmerry laughter. But they were too tired, too sleepy, and, it may beadded, too happy, to worry themselves much over these matters. They werevery quickly in
bed and sound asleep.
Meanwhile Fanny was much enjoying the unstinted praise which her friendswere bestowing on the beautiful tea-set which her father had given her.
"Oh, but it is perfectly lovely!" exclaimed Olive. "Why, Fan, you are inluck; it's real old Crown Derby!"
"Yes," said Fanny; "I thought it was. Whenever father does a thing hedoes it well."
"We'll be almost afraid to drink out of it, Fanny!" exclaimed JuliaBertram. "Fancy, if I were to drop one of those little jewels of cups!Don't the colors just sparkle on them! Oh, if I were to drop it, and itgot broken, I don't think I'd ever hold up my head again!"
"Well, dear Julia, don't drop it," said Fanny, "and then you will feelall right."
Cocoa was already prepared; the rich cake graced the center of theboard; the chocolate creams were certainly in evidence; and the girlsclustered round, laughing and talking. Fanny was determined to chokeback that feeling of uneasiness which had worried her during the wholeof that day. She could not tell the Specialities what her cousins haddone; she could not--she would not. There must be a secret between them.She who belonged to a society of whom each member had to vow not to havea secret from any other member, was about to break her vow.
The girls were in high spirits to-night, and in no mood to talk"sobersides," as Mary Bertram sometimes called their graver discussions.
But when the little meal of cocoa and cake had come to an end, Margaretsaid, "I want to make a proposal."
"Hush! hush! Let the oracle speak!" cried Olive, her pretty face beamingwith mirth.
"Oh Olive, don't be so ridiculous!" said Margaret. "You know perfectlywell I am no oracle; but I have a notion in my head. It is this: whyshould not those splendid-looking girls, the Vivians, join theSpecialities? They did look rather funny, I will admit, yesterday; buteven then one could see that clothes matter little or nothing to them.But now that they're dressed like the rest of us, they give distinctionto the whole school. I don't think I ever saw a face like Betty's. Fan,you, of course, will second my proposal that Betty Vivian, even if hersisters are too young, should be asked to become a Speciality?"
Fanny felt that she was turning very pale. Susie Rushworth gazed at herin some wonder.
"I propose," exclaimed Margaret Grant, "that Miss Betty Vivian shall beinvited to join our society and to become a Speciality. I furtherpropose that we ask her to join our next meeting, which takes place thisday week, and is, by the way, held in my room. Now, who will second mysuggestion?"
"You will, of course, Fan," said Susie. "Betty is your cousin, so youare the right person to second Margaret's wish."
Fanny's face grew yet paler. After a minute she said, "Just becauseBetty is my cousin I would rather some one else seconded MargaretGrant's proposal."
All the girls looked at her in astonishment.
"Very well; I second it," responded Susie.
"Girls," said Margaret, "will you all agree? Those who do _not_ agree,please keep their hands down. Those who _do_ agree, please hold uphands. Now, then, is Betty Vivian to be invited to join theSpecialities? Which has it--the 'ayes' or the 'noes'?"
All the girls' hands, with one exception, were eagerly raised in favorof Betty Vivian. Fanny sat very still, her hands locked one inside theother in her lap. Something in her attitude and in the expression of herface caused each of her companions to gaze at her in extreme wonder.
"Why, Fanny, what is the meaning of this?" asked Margaret.
"I cannot explain myself," said Fanny.
"Cannot--and you a Speciality! Don't you know that we have no secretsfrom one another?"
"That is true," said Fanny, speaking with a great effort. "Well, then,I will explain myself. I would rather Betty Vivian did not join ourclub."
"But why, dear--why?"
"Yes, Fanny, why?" echoed Susie.
"What ridiculous nonsense you are talking!" cried Olive Repton.
"The most striking-looking girl I ever saw!" said Julia Bertram. "Why,Fan, what is your reason for this?"
"Call it jealousy if you like," said Fanny; "call it any name under thesun, only don't worry me about it."
As she spoke she rose deliberately and left the room, her companionslooking after her in amazement.
"What does this mean?" said Julia.
"I can't understand it a bit," said Margaret. Then she added after apause, "I suppose, girls, you fully recognize that the Speciality Clubis supposed to be a club without prejudice or favor, and that, as the'ayes' have carried the day, Miss Betty Vivian is to be invited tojoin?"
"Of course she must be invited to join," replied Susie; "but it is veryunpleasant all the same. I cannot make out what can ail Fanny Crawford.She hasn't been a bit herself since those girls arrived."
The Specialities chatted a little longer together, but the meeting wasnot convivial. Fanny's absence prevented its being so; and very soon thegirls broke up, leaving the pretty cups and saucers and the remains ofthe feast behind them. The chapel bell rang for prayers, and they alltrooped in. But Fanny Crawford was not present. This, in itself, wasalmost without precedent, for girls were not allowed to miss prayerswithout leave.
As each Speciality laid her head on her pillow that night she could notbut reflect on Fanny's strange behavior, and wondered much what itmeant. As to Fanny herself, she lay awake for hours. Some of the girlsand some of the mistresses thought that she was grieving for her father;but, as a matter of fact, she was not even thinking of him. Everythought of her mind was concentrated on what she called her presentdilemma. It was almost morning before the tired girl fell asleep.
At half-past six on the following day the great gong sounded through theentire upper school. Betty started up in some amazement, her sisters insome alarm.
By-and-by a kind-looking woman, dressed as a sort of housekeeper orupper servant, entered the room. "Can I help you to dress, youngladies?" she said.
The girls replied in the negative. They had always dressed themselves.
"Very well," replied the woman. "Then I will come to fetch you inhalf-an-hour's time, so that you will be ready for prayers in chapel."
Perhaps Betty Vivian never, as long as she lived, forgot that first daywhen she stood with her sisters in the beautiful little chapel and heardthe Reverend Edmund Fairfax read prayers. He was a delicate,refined-looking man, with a very intellectual face and a beautifulvoice. Mrs. Haddo had begged of him to accept the post of privatechaplain to her great school for many reasons. First, because his healthwas delicate; second, because she knew she could pay him well; and also,for the greatest reason of all, because she was quite sure that Mr.Fairfax could help her girls in moments of difficulty in their spirituallife, should such moments arise.
Prayers came to an end; breakfast came to an end. The Vivians passed avery brisk examination with some credit. As Miss Symes had predicted,Betty was put into her special form, in which form Susie Rushworth andFanny Crawford also had their places. The younger Vivians were allowedto remain in the upper school, but were in much lower forms. Betty tookto her work as happily (to use a well-known expression) as a duck takesto water. Her eyes were bright with intelligence while she listened toMiss Symes, who could teach so charmingly and could impart knowledge insuch an attractive way.
In the middle of the morning there was the usual brief period when thegirls might go out and amuse themselves for a short time. Betty wantedto find her sisters; but before she could attempt to seek for them shefelt a hand laid on her arm, and, glancing round, saw that FannyCrawford was by her side.
"Betty," said Fanny, "I want to speak to you, and at once. We have onlya very few minutes; will you, please, listen?"
"Is it really important?" asked Betty. "For, if it is not, I do want tosay something to Sylvia. She forgot to give Dickie his raw meat thismorning."
"Oh, aren't you just hopeless!" exclaimed Fanny. "You think of thatterrible spider when--when----Oh, I don't know what to make of you!"
"And I don't know what to make of you, Fanny!" retorted Betty. "What
areyou excited about? What is the matter?"
"Listen!--do listen!" said Fanny.
"Well, I am listening; but you really must be quick in getting outwhatever's troubling you."
"You have heard of the Specialities, haven't you?" said Fanny.
"Good gracious, no!" exclaimed Betty. "The Specialities--what are they?"
"There is nothing _what_ about them. They are people--girls; they arenot things."
"Oh, girls! What a funny name to give girls! I haven't heard of them,Fanny."
"You won't be long at Haddo Court without hearing a great deal aboutthem," remarked Fanny. "I am one, and so is Susie Rushworth, and so arethe Bertrams, and so is that handsome girl Margaret Grant. You musthave noticed her; she is so dark and tall and stately. And so, also, isdear little Olive Repton----"
"And so is--and so is--and so is--" laughed Betty, putting on her mostquizzical manner.
"You must listen to me. The Specialities--oh, they're not like any othergirls in the school, and it's the greatest honor in the world to beasked to belong to them. Betty, it's this way. Margaret Grant is thesort of captain of the club--I don't know how to express it exactly; butshe is our head, our chief--and she has taken a fancy to you; and lastnight we had a meeting in my bedroom----"
"Oh, that was what the row was about!" exclaimed Betty. "If we hadn'tbeen hearty sleepers and girls straight from the Scotch moors, you wouldhave given us a very bad night."
"Never mind about that. Margaret Grant proposed last night that youshould be asked to join."
"_I_ asked to join?"
"Yes, you, Betty. Doesn't it sound absurd? And they all voted foryou--every one of them, with the exception of myself."
"And it's a great honor, isn't it?" said Betty, speaking very quietly.
"Oh yes--immense."
"Then, of course, you wouldn't vote--would you, dear little Fan?"
"Don't talk like that! We shall be returning to the schoolroom in a fewminutes, and Margaret is sure to talk to you after dinner. You areelected by the majority, and you are to be invited to attend the nextmeeting. But I want you to refuse--yes, I do, Betty; for you can'tjoin--you know you can't. With that awful, awful lie on your conscience,you can't be a Speciality. I shall go wild with misery if you join.Betty, you must say you won't."
Betty looked very scornfully at Fanny. "There are some people in theworld," she said, "who make me feel very wicked, and I am greatlyafraid you are one. Now, let me tell you plainly and frankly that if youhad said nothing I should probably not have wished to become thatextraordinary thing, a Speciality; but because you are in such a mortalfunk I shall join your club with the utmost pleasure. So now you know."