CHAPTER IX
STRIVING FOR A DECISION
The week passed without anything very special occurring. The weather wasstill warm and perfect. September had no idea of giving up her mantle oflate summer. But September was drawing to a close, and October, withgusty winds and whirling, withered leaves, and much rain, would soontake her place. October was certainly not nearly such a pleasant monthas September. Nevertheless, the young and healthy girls who lived theirregular life at Haddo Court were indifferent to the weather. They werealways busy. Each minute was planned out and fully occupied. There wastime for work, and time for play, and time for happy, confidential talksin that bright and pleasant school. There were all kinds of surprises,too; now an unexpected tea-party with Mrs. Haddo, given to a few selectgirls; then, again, to another few who unexpectedly found themselvesselect. There were also delightful cocoa-parties in the big privatesitting-room of the upper school, as well as games of every description,outdoor and indoor. Night came all too soon in this happy family, andeach girl retired to bed wondering what could have made the day so veryshort.
But during this week Betty was not quite happy. She had received a copyof the rules, and had studied them very carefully. She was, in her heartof hearts, most anxious to become a Speciality. The higher life appealedto her. It appealed to her strong sense of imagination; to herpassionate and really unworldly nature; to that deep love which dwelt inher heart, and which, just at present, she felt inclined to bestow onMargaret Grant. But there was Rule I. The rules had been sent, asMargaret had promised, neatly copied and in a sealed envelope, toBetty's room. She had read them upstairs all alone in the Vivians'attic. She had read them while the queer, uncanny eyes of Dickie lookedat her. She certainly was not afraid of Dickie; on the contrary, sheadmired him. She and her sisters were very proud of his increasing size,and each day it was the turn of one girl or the other to take Dickie outof his cage and give him exercise. He was rather alarming in hismovements, going at a tremendous rate, and giving more than one uncannyglance at the Vivian girl who was his jailer for the time.
On this special occasion, when Betty brought the rules to the Vivianattic, she forgot all about Dickie. He was out, running round and roundthe attic, rushing up the walls, peering at Betty from over the top ofthe door, creeping as far as the ceiling and then coming down again. Hewas, as a rule, easily caught, for Sylvia and Hetty always kept his mealof raw meat till after he had had his exercise. But Betty had nowforgotten that it was necessary to have a bait to bring Dickie once moreinto the shelter of his cage. She had consequently fed him first, thenlet him free, and then stood by the small window of the attic readingthe rules of the Specialities. It was Rule I. which troubled her. RuleI. ran as follows: "Each girl gives perfect confidence to her fellowmembers, keeps no secret to herself which those members ought to know,is ready to consider each member as though she were her own sister, tohelp her in time of trouble and to rejoice with her in periods of joy."
To be quite frank, Betty did not like this rule. She was willing to givea certain amount of affection to most of the girls who belonged to theSpecialities; but as to considering even nice girls like the Bertrams asher own sisters, and Susie Rushworth (who was quite agreeable and gayand kind) in that relationship, and Olive Repton also, as she wouldSylvia and Hetty, she did not think she could do it. She could be kindto them--she would love to be kind to them; she would love to help eachand all in times of trouble, and to rejoice with them in periods of joy;but to feel that they were her sisters--that certainly _was_ difficult.She believed it possible that she could admit Margaret Grant into aspecial and close relationship; into a deep friendship which partookneither of sisterhood nor of anything else, but stood apart andalone--the sort of friendship that a young, enthusiastic girl will giveto a friend of strong character a little older than herself. But as toFanny--she could never love Fanny. From the very first moment she hadset eyes on her--away, far away, in Scotland--she had disliked her, shehad pronounced her at once in her own mind as "niminy-priminy." She hadtold her sisters frankly what she felt about Fanny. She had said in herbold, independent way, "Fanny is too good for the likes of me. She isthe sort of girl who would turn me into a bad un. I don't want to haveanything to do with her."
Fanny, however, had taken no notice of Betty's all too evidentantagonism. Fanny was, in her heart of hearts, essentially good-natured;but Betty was as impossible for her to understand as it was impossiblefor the moon to comprehend the brightness of the sun. Fanny had beenshocked at what she had witnessed when she saw Betty take the sealedpacket from the drawer. She remembered the whole thing with greatdistress of mind, and had felt a sense of shock when she heard that theVivian girls were coming to the school. But her feelings were very muchworse when her father had informed her that the packet could nowhere befound--that he had specially mentioned it to Betty, who declared thatshe knew nothing about it. Oh yes, Fanny and Betty were as the polesapart; and Betty knew now that were she to take the vows of theSpecialities fifty times over she could never keep them, as far as FannyCrawford was concerned. Then there was another unpleasant part of thesame rule: "Each girl gives perfect confidence to her fellow-members,keeps no secret to herself which those members ought to know." Bettyundoubtedly had a secret--a very precious one. She had even told a liein order to hug that secret to her breast. She had brought it away withher to the school, and now it was safe--only Betty knew where.
What puzzled her was this: was it necessary for the members to know hersecret? It had nothing to do with any of them. Nevertheless, she was anhonest sort of girl and could not dismiss the feeling from her own mindthat Rule I. was practically impossible to her. The Specialities had meton Thursday in Margaret Grant's room. The next meeting was to be held inSusie Rushworth's. Susie's room was in another wing of the building, andwas not so large or luxurious as that of Margaret. The next meetingwould, however, be quite formal--except for the admission of Betty tothe full privileges of the club, and the reading aloud of the rules toMartha West. During the course of the week the Specialities seldom ornever spoke of their meeting-day. Nevertheless, Betty from time to timecaught Fanny's watchful eyes fixed on her.
On the next Thursday morning she awoke with a slight headache. MissSymes noticed when she came downstairs that Betty was not quite herself,and at once insisted on her going back to her room to lie down and becoddled. Betty hated being coddled. She was never coddled in the graystone house; she was never coddled on the Scotch moors. She hadoccasional headaches, like every one else, and occasional colds; butthey had to take care of themselves, and get well as best they could.Betty used to shake herself with anger when she thought of any onemaking a fuss about her when she was ill, and was consequently rathercross when Miss Symes took her upstairs, made her lie down, and put awrap over her.
"You must lie down and try to sleep, Betty. I hope you will be quitewell by dinner-time. Don't stir till I come for you, dear."
"Oh, but I will!" said Betty, raising her head and fixing her bright,almost feverish eyes on Miss Symes's face.
"What do you mean, dear? I have desired you to stay quiet."
"And I cannot obey," replied Betty. "Please, Miss Symes, don't be angry.If I were a low-down sort of girl, I'd sneak out without telling you;but as I happen to be Betty Vivian, I can't do that. I want to get intothe fresh air. Nothing will take away my headache like a walk. I want toget as far as that dreadful piece of common land you have here, andwhich you imagine is like a moor. I want to walk about there for atime."
"Very well, Betty; you are a good girl to have confided in me. You haveexactly two hours. Stay quiet for one hour. If at the end of that timeyour head is no better, out for an hour; then return to your usualduties."
Betty lay very still for the whole of that hour. Her thoughts were busy.She was haunted by Rule I., and by the passionate temptation to ignoreit and yet pretend that she would keep it--in short, to be a member ofthe Specialities under false colors. One minute she was struggling hardwith the trouble which ra
ged within her, the next minute she was makingup her mind to decline to be associated with the Specialities.
When the hour had quite expired she sprang to her feet. Oh yes, her headstill ached! But what did that matter? She could not be bothered with atrifling thing like a mere headache. She ran upstairs to the Vivianattic. Dickie was in his cage. Betty remembered what terrible troubleshe had had to catch him on the day when she received a copy of therules. She shook her head at him now, and said, "Ah Dickie, you're a badboy! I am not going to let you out of your cage again in a hurry." Thenshe went out.
The wind had changed during the night, and heavy clouds were coming upfrom the north. Betty felt herself much colder than she had ever done inScotland. She shivered, and walked very fast. She passed the celebratedoak-tree where she and her sisters had hidden during their first day atschool. She went on to the place where the three little gardens weremarked for their benefit. But up to the present no Vivian had touchedthe gardens, and there were the black remains of the bonfire where thepoor Scotch heather had been burnt almost in the center of Betty'spatch of ground.
Oh, the school was horrible--the life was horrible! Oh why had she evercome here? She wanted to be a Speciality; but she could not, it was notin her. She hated--yes, she hated--Fanny Crawford more each minute, andshe could never love those other uninteresting girls as though they wereher sisters. In analyzing her feelings very carefully, she came to theconclusion that she only wanted to join the Specialities in order to beMargaret's friend. She knew quite well what privileges would be accordedto her were she a member; and she also knew--for she had been told--thatit was a rare thing to allow a girl so lately come to the school to takesuch an important position.
Betty had a natural love of power. With a slight shudder she walked pastthe little patches of ground and across what she contemptuously calledthe miserable common. This common marked the boundaries of Mrs. Haddo'sschool. There were iron railings at least six feet high guarding it fromthe adjacent land. The sight of these railings was absolute torture toBetty. She said aloud, "Didn't I know the whole place was a prison? Butprison-bars sha'n't keep me long in restraint!"
She took out her handkerchief, and, pulling up some weedy grass, put thehandkerchief on one spiked bar and the grass on the other, and thusprotecting herself, made a light bound over the fence. The exercise andthe sense of freedom did her good. She laughed aloud, and continued herwalk through unexplored regions. She could not go very fast, however;for she was hindered here by and there by a gateway, and here again by afarmstead, and yet again by a cottage, with little children runningabout amongst the autumn flowers.
"How can people live in a place like this?" thought Betty.
Then, all of a sudden, two ferocious dogs rushed out upon the girl,clamored round her, and tried to stop her way. Betty laughed softly.There was a delightful sound in her laugh. Probably those dogs had neverheard its like before. It was also possible, notwithstanding the factthat Betty was wearing a new dress, that something of that peculiarinstinct which is imparted to dogs told these desperate champions thatBetty had loved a dog before.
"Down, silly creature!" said Betty, and she patted one on the head andput her arm on the neck of the other. Soon they were fawning about herand jumping on her and licking her hands. She felt thoroughly happy now.Her headache had quite vanished. The dogs, the darlings, were her truefriends! There was a little piece of grass quite close to where they hadattacked her, and she squatted deliberately down on it and invited thedogs to stretch themselves by her side. They did so without a minute'sdelay. They were in raptures with her, and one dog only growled when shepaid too much attention to the other.
She began to whisper alternately in the shaggy ears of each. "Ah, youmust have come from Scotland! You must, anyhow, have met Andrew! Do youthink you are as brave as Andrew, for I doubt it?"
Then she continued to the other dog, "And you must have been born in thesame litter with Fritz. Did you ever look into the eyes of Fritz and seestraight down into his gallant heart? I should be ashamed of you,ashamed of you, if you were not as brave and noble as Fritz."
There was such pathos in Betty's voice that the dogs became quitepenitent and abject. They had certainly never been in Scotland, andAndrew and Fritz were animals unknown to them; but for some reason themysterious being who understood dogs was displeased with them, and theyfawned and crouched at her feet.
It was just at that moment that a sturdy-looking farmer came up. Hegazed at Betty, then at the two dogs, uttered a light guffaw, andvanished round the corner. In a very few minutes he returned,accompanied by his sturdy wife and his two rough, growing sons.
"Wife," he said, "did you ever see the like in all your life--Dan andBeersheba crouching down at that young girl's feet? Why, they're thefiercest dogs in the whole place!"
"I heard them barking a while back," said Mrs. Miles, the farmer's wife,"and then they stopped sudden-like. If I'd known they were here I'd havecome out to keep 'em from doing mischief to anybody; but hearing no moresound I went on with my churning. Little miss," she added, raising hervoice, "you seem wonderful took with dogs."
Betty instantly rose to a standing position. "Yes, I am," she said."Please, are these Scotch, and have they come from Aberdeenshire?"
The farmer laughed. "No, miss," he said; "we bred 'em at home."
Betty was puzzled at this.
The dogs did not take the slightest notice of the farmer, his wife, orhis sons, but kept clinging to the girl and pressing their noses againsther dress.
"May I come again to see them, please?" asked Betty. "They've got thespirit of the Scotch dogs. They are the first true friends I have metsince I left Scotland."
"And may I make bold to ask your name, miss?" inquired the farmer'swife.
"Yes, you may," said Betty. "It isn't much of a name. It's just BettyVivian, and I live at Haddo Court."
"My word! Be you one of them young ladies?"
"I don't know quite what you mean; but I am Betty Vivian, and I live atHaddo Court."
"But how ever did you get on the high road, miss?" asked the farmer.
Betty laughed. "I went to the edge of what they call the common," shesaid. "I found a fence, and I vaulted over--that is all. I don't likeyour country much, farmer; there's no space about it. But the dogs, theyare darlings!"
"You're the pluckiest young gel I ever come across," said the man. "Howyou managed to tame 'em is more than I can say. Why, they are realbrutes when any one comes nigh the farm; and over and over I has said tothe wife, 'You ought to lock them brutes up, wife.' But she's rare andkindhearted, and is very fond of them, whelps that they be."
"I wonder," said the woman, "if missie would come into the house andhave a bite of summat to eat? We makes butter for the Court, miss; andwe sends up all our eggs, and many a pair of fat chickens and turkeysand other fowl. We're just setting down to dinner, and can give you somepotatoes and pork."
Betty laughed gleefully. "I'd love potatoes and pork more thananything," she said. "May Dan and Beersheba dine with us?"
"Well, miss, I don't expect you'll find it easy to get 'em parted fromyou."
So Betty entered the farmyard, and walked through, in her directfashion, without picking her steps; for she loved, as she expressed it,a sense of confusion and the sight of different animals. She had a knackof making herself absolutely at home, and did so on the presentoccasion. Soon she was seated in the big bright kitchen of thefarmhouse, and was served with an excellent meal of the best fresh porkand the most mealy potatoes she had seen since she left Scotland. Mrs.Miles gave her a great big glass of rich milk, but she preferred water.Dan sat at one side of her, Beersheba at the other. They did not ask forfood; but they asked imploringly for the pat of a firm, brown littlehand, and for the look of love in Betty's eyes.
"I have enjoyed myself," said the girl, jumping up. "I do think you arethe nicest people anywhere; and as to your dogs, they are simplyglorious. Might not I come here again some day, and--and bring mysisters with me?
They are twins, you know. Do you mind twins?"
"Bless your sweet voice!" said Mrs. Miles; "is it a-minding twins we bewhen we has two sets ourselves?"
"My sisters are very nice, considering that they are twins," said Betty,who was always careful not to overpraise her own people; "and they arejust as fond of dogs as I am. Oh, by the way, we have a lovely spider--ahuge, glorious creature. His name is Dickie, and he lives in an attic atthe Court. He's as big as this." Betty made an apt illustration with herfingers.
"Lor', miss, he must be an awful beast! We're dead nuts agen spiders atthe Stoke Farm."
Betty looked sad. "It is strange," she said, "how no one loves Dickieexcept our three selves. We won't bring him, then; but may _we_ come?"
"It all depends, miss, on whether Mrs. Haddo gives you leave. 'Tain'tthe custom, sure and certain, for young ladies from the Court to comea-visiting at Stoke Farm; but if so be she says yes, you'll be heartilywelcome, and more than welcome. I can't say more, can I, miss?"
"Well, I have had a happy time," said Betty; "and now I must be goingback."
"But," said the farmer, "missie, you surely ain't going to get over thatbig fence the same way as you come here?"
"And what else should I do?" said Betty.
"'Taint to be done, miss. There's a drop at our side which makes thefence ever so much higher, and how you didn't hurt yourself is littleless than a miracle to me. I'll have the horse put to the cart and driveyou round to the front entrance in a jiffy. Dan and Beersheba canfollow, the run'll do them no end of good."
"Yes, missie, you really must let my husband do what he wishes," saidMrs. Miles.
"Thank you," said Betty in a quiet voice. Then she added, looking upinto Mrs. Miles's face, "I love Mrs. Haddo very much, and there is onegirl at the school whom I love. I think I shall love you too, for Ithink you have understanding. And when I come to see you next--for ofcourse Mrs. Haddo will give me leave--I will tell you about Scotland,and the heather, and the fairies that live in the heather-bells; and Iwill tell you about our little gray stone house, and about DonaldMacfarlane and Jean Macfarlane. Oh, you will love to hear! You aresomething like them, except that unfortunately you are English."
"Don't put that agen me," said Mrs. Miles, "for I wouldn't be nothingelse if you was to pay me fifty pounds down. There, now, I can't speaksquarer than that!"
Just at that moment the farmer's voice was heard announcing that thetrap was ready. Betty hugged Mrs. Miles, and was followed out of thefarm-kitchen by the excited dogs.
The next minute they were driving in the direction of the Court, andBetty was put down just outside the heavy wrought-iron gates. "Good-bye,Farmer Miles," she said, "and take my best thanks. I am coming again tosee those darling dogs. Good-bye, dears, good-bye."
She pressed a kiss on each very rough forehead, passed through thelittle postern door, heard the dogs whining behind her, did not dare tolook back, and ran as fast as she could to the house. She was quite latefor the midday dinner; and the first person she met was Miss Symes, whocame up to her in a state of great excitement. "Why, Betty!" she said,"where have you been? We have all been terribly anxious about you."
"I went out for a walk," said Betty, "and----"
"Did you go beyond the grounds? We looked everywhere."
"Oh yes," said Betty. "I couldn't be kept in by rails or bars oranything of that sort. I am a free creature, you know, Miss Symes."
"Come, Betty," said Miss Symes, "you have broken a rule; and you have noexcuse, for a copy of the rules of the school is in every sitting-roomand every classroom. You must see Mrs. Haddo about this."
"I am more than willing," replied Betty.
Betty felt full of courage, and keen and well, after her morning'sadventure. Miss Symes took Betty's hand, and led her in the direction ofMrs. Haddo's private sitting-room. That good lady was busy over somework which she generally managed to accomplish at that special hour. Shewas seated at her desk, putting her signature to several notes andletters which she had dictated early that morning to her secretary. Shelooked up as Betty and Miss Symes entered.
"Ah, Miss Symes!" said Mrs. Haddo. "How do you do, Betty? Sit down. Willyou just wait a minute, please?" she added, looking up into the face ofher favorite governess. "I want you to take these letters as you arehere, and so save my ringing for a servant. Get Miss Edgeworth to stampthem all, and put them into their envelopes, and send them off withoutfail by next post."
A pile of letters was placed in Miss Symes's hands. She went away atonce; and Mrs. Haddo, in her usual leisurely and gracious manner, turnedand looked at Betty.
"Well, Betty Vivian," she said kindly, "I have seen you for some time atprayers and in the different classrooms, and also at chapel; but I havenot had an opportunity of a chat with you, dear, for several days. Sitdown, please, or, rather, come nearer to the fire."
"Oh, I am so hot!" said Betty.
"Well, loosen your jacket and take off your hat. Now, what is thematter? Before we refer to pleasant things, shall we get the unpleasantones over? What has gone wrong with you, Betty Vivian?"
"But how can you tell that anything has gone wrong?"
"I know, dear, because Miss Symes would not bring you to my privatesitting-room at this hour for any other reason."
"Well, I don't think anything has gone wrong," said Betty; "but MissSymes does not quite agree with me. I will tell you, of course; I amonly longing to."
"Begin, dear, and be as brief as possible."
"I had a headache this morning, and went to lie down," began Betty."Miss Symes wanted me to stay lying down until dinner-time, butafterwards she gave me leave to go out when I had been in my room for anhour. I did so. I went as far as that bit of common of yours."
"Our 'forest primeval'?" said Mrs. Haddo with a gracious smile.
"Oh, but it isn't really!" said Betty.
"Some of us think it so, Betty."
Betty gave a curious smile; then with an effort she kept back certainwords from her lips, and continued abruptly, "I got to the end of thecommon, and there was a railing----"
"The boundary of my estate, dear."
"Well," said Betty, "it drove me mad. I felt I was in prison, and thatthe railing formed my prison bars. I vaulted over, and got into theroad. I walked along for a good bit--I can't quite tell how far--but atlast two dogs came bounding out of a farmyard near by. They barked atfirst very loudly; but I looked at them and spoke to them, and afterthat we were friends of course. I sat on the grass 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, forthey 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 Scotchmoors Andrew and Fritz. They are much bigger dogs than Dan andBeersheba; but Dan and Beersheba are darlings for all that. I went intothe Mileses' house and had my dinner with them. It was a splendiddinner--pork and really _nice_ potatoes--and the dogs sat one on eachside of me. Mrs. Haddo, I want to go to the Mileses' again some day totea, and I want to take Sylvia and Hester with me. The Mileses don'tmind about their being twins, and they'll be quite glad to see them, andSylvia and Hester are about as fond of dogs as I am. Mrs. Miles said shewas 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 feltthat firm, sure bond of sympathy. Involuntarily the girl came two orthree steps closer. Mrs. Haddo, with a gesture, invited her to kneel byher, and took one of her hands. "Betty, my child, you know why you havecome to this school?"
"I am sure I don't," said Betty, "unless it is to be with you and--andMargaret Grant."
"I am glad you have made Margaret your friend. She is a splendidgirl--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 havethe honorable distinction of becoming a Speciality. The club is a mostdistinguished one, and has a beneficial effect on the tone of the upperschool. I am glad that you are considered worthy to join. I know nothingabout the rules; I can only say that I admire the results of itsdiscipline on its members. But now to turn to the matter in hand. Youbroke 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 youbroke one of my rules."
"When you put it like that," said Betty, "I do get a bit choky. Don'tsay too much, or perhaps I'll howl. I am not so happy as you think. I amfighting 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 thegirls never leave the grounds without leave; and as you have broken thatrule you must receive the punishment, which is that you remain in yourroom for the rest of the day until eight o'clock this evening, when Iunderstand 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 andwere attacked by those fierce dogs. It was a marvel that they took toyou. It is extremely wrong of Farmer Miles to have them loose, and Imust speak to him."
"And please," said Betty, "may we go to tea there--we three--oneevening?"
"I will see about that. Try to keep every rule. Try, with all your mightand main, to conquer yourself. I am not angry with you, dear. It isimpossible to tame a nature like yours, and I am the last person onearth to break your spirit. But go up to your room now, and--kiss mefirst."
Betty almost choked when she gave that kiss, when her eyes looked stilldeeper into Mrs. Haddo's beautiful eyes, and when she felt her wholeheart tingle within her with that new, wonderful sensation of a lovefor her mistress which even exceeded her love for Margaret Grant.