Chapter 2 Betty Vivian by L. T. Meade
WAS FANNY ELATED?
Mrs. Haddo slept very little that night. Miss Symes, who adored the head mistress, could not help noticing that something was the matter with her; but she knew Mrs. Haddo's nature far too well to make any inquiries. The next day, however, Miss Symes was called into the head mistress's presence.
"I want to speak to you all alone," said Mrs. Haddo. "You realize, of course, Emma, how fully I trust you?"
"You have always done so, dear Mrs. Haddo," replied the young teacher, her beautiful face flushing with pleasure.
"Well, now, I am going to trust you more fully still. You noticed, or perhaps you did not, that Sir John Crawford, Fanny's father, called to see me yesterday?"
"Fanny herself told me," replied Miss Symes. "I found the poor, dear child in floods of tears. Sir John Crawford is going to India immediately, and Fanny says she is not likely to see him again for a year."
"We will cheer her up all we can," said Mrs. Haddo. "I have many schemes for next Christmas which will, I am sure, give pleasure to the girls who are obliged to stay here. But time enough for all that later on. You know, of course, Emma, that there are three vacancies in the upper school?"
"Caused by the absence of the dear young Maitlands," replied Miss Symes. "I cannot tell you how much we miss them."
"We do miss them," said Mrs. Haddo, who paused and looked attentively at Miss Symes. "I don't suppose," she continued, "that there is any teacher in the school who knows so much about the characters of the girls as you do, my dear, good Emma."
"I think I know most of their characters," said Miss Symes; "characters in the forming, as one must assuredly say, but forming well, dear Mrs. Haddo. And who can wonder at that, under your influence?"
Mrs. Haddo's face expressed a passing anxiety.
"Is anything wrong?" said Miss Symes.
"Why do you ask me, Emma? Have you--noticed anything?"
"Yes, certainly. I have noticed that you are troubled, dear friend; and Mary Arundel has also observed the same."
"But the girls--the girls have said nothing about it?" inquired Mrs. Haddo.
"No; but young girls cannot see as far into character as older people can."
"Well, now," said Mrs. Haddo, "I will be frank with you. What I say to you, you can repeat to Mary Arundel. I feel proud to call you both my flag lieutenants, who always hold the banner of high principle and virtue aloft, and I feel certain you will do so to the end. Emma, Sir John Crawford came to see me yesterday on a very important matter; and, partly to oblige him, partly because of an old memory, partly also because it seemed to me that I must trust and hope for the best in certain emergencies, I have agreed to do what I never did before--namely, to take three girls into the school--yes, into the upper school, in place of the three Maitlands. These girls are called Betty, Sylvia, and Hester Vivian. They are the nieces of that dear woman, Beatrice Vivian, who was educated at this school years ago. I expect them to arrive here on Monday next. In the meantime you must prepare the other girls for their appearance on the scene. Do not blame me, Emma, nor look on me with reproachful eyes. I quite understand what you are thinking, that I have broken a rule which I have always declared I would never break--namely, I am taking these girls without having first interviewed them. Such is the case. Now, I want you, in particular, to tell Fanny Crawford that they are coming. Fanny is their cousin. Sir John is their guardian. Sir John knows nothing whatever about their disposition, but I gather from some conversation which I had with him last night that Fanny is acquainted with them. Observe, dear, how she takes the news of their coming. If dear Fanny looks quite happy about them, it will certainly be a rest to my mind."
"Oh, I will talk to her," said Miss Symes, rising. "And now, please, dear Mrs. Haddo, don't be unhappy. You have done, in my opinion, the only thing you could do; and girls with such high credentials must be all right."
"I hope they will prove to be all that is desirable," said Mrs. Haddo. "You had better have a talk with Miss Ludlow with regard to the rooms they are to occupy. Poor children! they are in great trouble, having already lost both their parents, and are now coming to me because their aunt, Miss Vivian, has just died. It might comfort them to be in that large room which is near Fanny's. It will hold three little beds and the necessary furniture without any crowding."
"Yes, it would do splendidly," said Miss Symes. "I will speak to Miss Ludlow. I suppose, now, I ought to return to my school duties?"
Miss Symes was not at all uneasy at what Mrs. Haddo had told her. Hers was a gentle and triumphant sort of nature. She trusted most people. She had a sublime faith in the good, not the bad, of her fellow-creatures. Still, Mrs. Haddo had done a remarkable thing, and Miss Symes owned to herself that she was a little curious to see how Fanny Crawford would take the news of the unexpected advent of her relatives.
It was arranged that the Vivians were to arrive at Haddo Court on the following Monday. To-day was Wednesday, and a half-holiday. Half-holidays were always prized at Haddo Court; and the girls were now in excellent spirits, full of all sorts of schemes and plans for the term which had little more than begun, and during which they hoped to achieve so much. Fanny Crawford, in particular, was in earnest conversation with Susie Rushworth. They were forming a special plan for strengthening what they called the bond of union in the upper school. Fresh girls were to be admitted, and all kinds of schemes were in progress. Susie had a wonderfully bright face, and her eager words fell on Miss Symes's ears as she approached the two girls.
"It's all very fine for you, Susie," Fanny was heard to say; "but this term seems to me quite intolerable. You will be going home for Christmas, but I shall have to stay at the school. Oh, of course, I love the school; but we are all proud of our holidays, and father had all but promised to take me to Switzerland in order to get some really good skating. Now everything is knocked on the head; but I suppose I must submit."
"I couldn't help overhearing you, Fanny," said Miss Symes, coming up to the girls at that moment; "but you must look on the bright side, my love, and reflect that a year won't be long in going by. I know, of course, to what you were alluding--your dear father's sudden departure for India."
"Yes, St. Cecilia," replied Fanny, looking up into Miss Symes's face; "and I am sure neither Susie nor I mind in the least your overhearing what we were talking about. Do we Susie?"
"No," replied Susie; "how could we? St. Cecilia, if you think you have been playing the spy, we will punish you by making you sing for us to-night."
Here Susie linked her hand lovingly through Miss Symes's arm. Miss Symes bent and kissed the girl's eager face.
"I will sing for you with pleasure, dear, if I have a moment of time to spare. But now I have come to fetch Fanny. I want to have a little talk with her all by herself. Fan, will you come with me?"
Fanny Crawford raised her pretty, dark eyebrows in some surprise. What could this portend? There was a sort of code of honor at the school that the girls were never to be disturbed by the teachers during the half-holiday hours.
"Come, Fanny," said Miss Symes; and the two walked away in another direction for some little distance.
The day was a glorious one towards the end of September. Miss Symes chose an open bench in a part of the grounds where the forest land was more or less cleared away. She invited Fanny to seat herself, and took a place by her side.
"Now, my dear," she said, "I have a piece of news for you which will, I think, please you very much."
"Oh, what can please me when father is going?" said Fanny, her eyes filling with tears.
"Nevertheless, this may. You have, of course, heard of--indeed, I have been given to understand that you know--your cousins, the Vivians?"
Fanny's face flushed. It became a vivid crimson, then the color faded slowly from her cheeks; and she looked at Miss Symes, amazement in her glance. "My cousins--the Vivians!" she exclaimed. "Do you mean Betty--Betty and her sisters?"
"Yes, I think Betty is the name of one of the girls."
"There are three," said Fanny. "There's Betty, who is about my age; and then there are the twins, Sylvia and Hetty."
"Then, of course, you _do_ know them, dear?"
"Yes, I know them. I went to stay with them in Scotland for a week during last holidays. My cousin--their aunt, Miss Vivian--was very ill, however, and we had to keep things rather quiet. They lived at a place called Craigie Muir--quite beautiful, you know, but very, very wild."
"That doesn't matter, dear."
"Well, why are you speaking to me about them? They are my cousins, and I spent a week with them not very long ago."
"You observed how ill Miss Vivian was?"
"I used to hear that she was ill; Sylvia used to tell me. Betty couldn't stand anything sad or depressing, so I never spoke to her on the subject."
"And you--you liked your cousins? You appreciated them, did you not, Fanny?"
"I didn't know them very well," said Fanny in a slightly evasive voice.
Miss Symes felt her heart sink within her. She knew Fanny Crawford well. She was the last girl to say a word against another; at the same time she was exceedingly truthful.
"Well, dear," said Miss Symes, "your father came here yesterday in order to----"
"To see me, of course," interrupted Fanny; "to tell me that he was going to India. Poor darling dad! It was a terrible blow!"
"Sir John came here on other business also, Fanny. He wanted to see Mrs. Haddo. You know that poor Miss Vivian is dead?"
"Oh, yes," said Fanny. Then she added impulsively, "Betty will be in a terrible state!"
"It may be in your power to comfort her, dear."
"To comfort Betty Vivian! What do you mean?"
"It has just been arranged between Mrs. Haddo and your father, who is now the guardian of the girls, that they are all three to come here as pupils in the school. They will arrive here on Monday. You are glad, are you not, Fan?"
Fanny started to her feet. She stood very still, staring straight before her.
"You are glad--of course, Fanny?"
Fanny then turned and faced her governess. "Do you want the truth, or--or--a lie?"
"Fanny, my dear, how can you speak to me in that tone? Of course I want the truth."
"Then I am not glad."
"But, my dear, consider. Those poor girls--they are orphans almost in a double sense. They are practically alone in the world. They are your cousins. You must have a very strong reason for saying what you have said--that you are not glad."
"I am not glad," repeated Fanny.
Miss Symes was silent. She felt greatly disturbed. After a minute she said, "Fanny, is there anything in connection with the Vivians which, in your opinion, Mrs. Haddo ought to know?"
"I won't tell," said Fanny; and now her voice was full of agitation. She turned away and suddenly burst out crying.
"My dear child! my dear child! you are upset by the thought of your father's absence. Compose yourself, my love. Don't give way, Fanny, dear. Try to have that courage that we all strive to attain at Haddo Court."
Fanny hastily dashed away her tears. Then she said, after a pause, "Is it fixed that they are to come?"
"Yes, it is quite fixed."
"Miss Symes, you took me at first by surprise, but when the Vivians arrive you will see that I shall treat them with the affection due to cousins of my own; also, that I will do my utmost to make them happy."
"I am sure of it, my love. You are a very plucky girl!"
"And you won't tell Mrs. Haddo that I seemed distressed at the thought of their coming?"
"Do you really wish me not to tell her?"
"I do, most earnestly."
"Now, Fanny, I am going to trust you. Mrs. Haddo has been more or less driven into a corner over this matter. Your dear, kind father has been suddenly left in sole charge of those three young girls. He could not take them to India with him, and he had no home to offer them in this country. Mrs. Haddo, therefore, contrary to her wont, has agreed to receive them without the personal interview which she has hitherto thought essential."
Fanny smiled. "Oh, can I ever forget that interview when my turn came to receive it? I was at once more frightened and more elated than I believed it possible for any girl to be. I loved Mrs. Haddo on the spot, and yet I shook before her."
"But you don't fear her now, dear?"
"I should fear her most frightfully if I did anything wrong."
"Fanny, look down deep into your heart, and tell me if, in keeping something to yourself which you evidently know concerning your cousins, you are doing right or wrong."
"I will answer your question to-morrow," replied Fanny. "Now, may I go back to the others; they are waiting for me?"
"Yes, you may go, dear."
"The Vivians come here on Monday?" said Fanny as she rose.
"Yes, dear, on Monday. By the way, Miss Ludlow is arranging to give them the blue room, next to yours. You don't object, do you?"
"No," said Fanny. The next minute the girl was out of sight.
Miss Symes sat very still. What was the matter? What was Fanny Crawford trying to conceal?
That evening Mrs. Haddo said to Miss Symes, "You have told Fanny that her cousins are coming?"
"Yes."
"And how did she take it?"
"Fanny is very much upset about her father's absence," was Miss Symes's unexpected answer.
Mrs. Haddo looked attentively at the English teacher. Their eyes met, but neither uttered a single word.
The next day, after school, Fanny went up to Miss Symes. "I have been thinking over everything," she said, "and my conscience is not going to trouble me; for I know, or believe I know, a way by which I may help them all."
"It is a grand thing to help those who are in sorrow, Fanny."
"I will do my best," said the girl.
That evening, to Miss Symes's great relief, she heard Fanny's merry laugh in the school. The girls who formed the Specialities, as they were called, had met for a cheerful conference. Mary and Julia Bertram were in the highest spirits; and Margaret Grant, with her beautiful complexion and stately ways, had never been more agreeable. Olive Repton, the pet and darling of nearly the whole of the upper school, was making the others scream with laughter.
"There can be nothing very bad," thought Miss Symes to herself. "My dear friend will soon see that the charitable feeling which prompted her to receive those girls into the house was really but another sign of her true nobility of character."
Meanwhile Fanny, who was told not to keep the coming of the Vivians in any way a secret, was being eagerly questioned with regard to them.
"So you really saw them at their funny home, Craigie Muir?" exclaimed Olive.
"Yes; I spent a week there," said Fanny.
"And had a jolly good time, I guess?" cried Julia Bertram.
"Not such a very good time," answered Fanny, "for Miss Vivian was ill, and we had to be very quiet."
"Oh! don't let's bother about the time Fanny spent in that remote part of Scotland," said Olive. "Do tell us about the girls themselves, Fan. It's so unusual for any girls to come straight into the upper school, and also to put in an appearance in the middle of term. Are they very Scotch, to begin with?"
"No, hardly at all," replied Fanny. "Miss Vivian only took the pretty little cottage in which they live a year ago."
"I am glad they are not too Scotch," remarked Susie; "they will get into our ways all the sooner if they are thoroughly English."
"I don't see that for a single moment," remarked Olive. "For my part, I love Scotch lassies; and as to Irish colleens, they're simply adorable."
"Well, well, go on with your description, Fan," exclaimed Julia.
"I can tell you they are quite remarkable-looking," replied Fanny. "Betty is the eldest. She is a regular true sort of Betty, up to no end of larks and fun; but sometimes she gets very depressed. I think she is rather dark, but I am not quite sure; she is also somewhat tall; and, oh, she is wonderfully pretty! She can whistle the note of every bird that ever sang, and is devoted to wild creatures--the moor ponies and great Scotch collies and sheep-dogs. You'll be sure to like Betty Vivian."
"Your description does sound promising," remarked Susie; "but she will certainly have to give up her wild ways at Haddo Court."
"What about the others?" asked Olive.
"Sylvia and Hetty? I think they are two years younger than Betty. They are not a bit like her. They are rather heavy-looking girls, but still you would call them handsome. They are twins, and wonderfully like each other. Sylvia is very tender-hearted; but Hetty--I think Hetty has the most force of character. Now, really," continued Fanny, rising from her low chair, where her chosen friends were surrounding her, "I can say nothing more about them until they come. You can't expect me, any of you, to overpraise my own relations, and, naturally, I shouldn't abuse them."
"Why, of course not, you dear old Fan!" exclaimed Olive.
"I must go and write a letter to father," said Fanny; and she went across the room to where her own little desk stood in a distant corner.
After she had left them, Olive bent forward, looked with her merry, twinkling eyes full into Susie Rushworth's face, and said, "Is the dear Fan _altogether_ elated at the thought of her cousins' arrival? I put it to you, Susie, as the most observant of us all. Answer me truthfully, or for ever hold your peace."
"Then I will hold my peace," replied Susie, "for I cannot possibly say whether Fan is elated or not."
"Now, don't get notions in your head, Olive," said Mary Bertram. "That is one of your faults, you know. I expect those girls will be downright jolly; and, of course, being Fan's relations, they will become members of the Specialities. That goes without saying."
"It doesn't go without saying at all," remarked Olive. "The Specialities, as you know quite well, girls, have to stand certain tests."
"It is my opinion," said Susie, "that we are all getting too high and mighty for anything. Perhaps the Vivians will teach us to know our own places."