Chapter 10 Betty Vivian by L. T. Meade
RULE I. ACCEPTED
Betty's room was empty, and at that time of day was rather chill, for the three big windows were wide open in order to let in the fresh, keen air. Betty walked into the room still feeling that mysterious tingling all over her, that tingling which had been awakened by her sudden and unexpected love for Mrs. Haddo. That love had been more or less dormant within her heart from the very first; but to-day it had received a new impetus, and the curious fact was that she was almost glad to accept punishment because it was inflicted by Mrs. Haddo. Being the sort of girl she was, it occurred to her that the more severe she herself made the punishment the more efficacious it would be.
She accordingly sat down by one of the open windows, and, as a natural consequence, soon got very chilled. As she did not wish to catch cold and become a nuisance in the school, she proceeded to shut the windows, and had just done so--her fingers blue and all the beautiful glow gone from her young body--when there came a tap at the room door. Betty at first did not reply. She hoped the person, whoever that person might be, would go away. But the tap was repeated, and she was obliged in desperation to go to the door and see who was there.
"I, and I want to speak to you," replied the voice of Fanny Crawford.
Instantly there rose a violent rebellion in Betty's heart. All her love for Mrs. Haddo, with its softening influence, vanished; it melted slowly out of sight, although, of course, it was still there. Her pleasant time at the Mileses' farm, the delightful affection of the furious dogs, the excellent dinner, the quick drive back, were forgotten as though they had never existed; and Betty only remembered Rule I., and that she hated Fanny Crawford. She stood perfectly still in the middle of the room.
Fanny boldly opened the door and entered. "I want to speak to you, Betty," she said.
"But I don't want to speak to you," replied Betty.
"Oh, how bitterly cold this room is!" said Fanny, not taking much notice of this remark. "I shall light the fire myself; yes, I insist. It is all laid ready; and as it is absolutely necessary for us to have a little chat together, I may as well make the room comfortable for us both."
"But I don't want you to light the fire; I want you to go."
Fanny smiled. "Betty, dear," she said, "don't be unreasonable. You can't dislike me as much as you imagine you do! Why should you go on in this fashion?" As Fanny spoke she knelt down by the guard, put a match to the already well-laid fire, and soon it was crackling and roaring up the chimney.
"You are here," said Fanny, "because you broke a rule. We all know, every one in the school knows, Mrs. Haddo is not angry, but she insists on punishment. She never, never excuses a girl who breaks a rule. The girl must pay the penalty; afterwards, things are as they were before. It is amazing what an effect this has in keeping us all up to the mark and in order. Now, Betty--Bettina, dear--come and sit by the fire and let me hold your hands. Why, they're as blue as possible; you are quite frozen, you poor child!"
Fanny spoke in quite a nice, soothing voice. She had the same look on her face which she had worn that evening in Margaret Grant's bedroom. She seemed really desirous to be nice to Betty. She knew that Betty was easily influenced by kindness; this was the case, for even Fanny did not seem quite so objectionable when she smiled sweetly and spoke gently. She now drew two chairs forward, one for herself and one for Betty. Betty had been intensely cold, and the pleasant glow of the fire was grateful. She sank into the chair which Fanny offered her with very much the air of being the proprietor of the room, and not Betty, and waited for her companion to speak. She did not notice that Fanny had placed her own chair so that the back was to the light, whereas Betty sat where the full light from the three big windows fell on her face.
"Well, now, I call this real comfy!" said Fanny. "They will send up your tea, you know, and you can have a book from the school library if you like. I should recommend 'The Daisy Chain' or 'The Heir of Redclyffe.'"
"I don't want any books, thanks," said Betty.
"But don't you love reading?"
"I can't tell you. Perhaps I do, perhaps I don't."
"Betty, won't you tell me anything?"
"Fanny, I have nothing to tell you."
"Oh, Betty, with a face like yours--nothing!"
"Nothing at all--to you," replied Betty.
"But to others--for instance," said Fanny, still keeping her good temper, "to Margaret Grant, or to Mrs. Haddo?"
"They are different," said Betty.
Fanny was silent for a minute. Then she said, "I want to tell you something, and I want to be quite frank. You have made a very great impression so far in the school. For your age and your little experience, you are in a high class, and all your teachers speak well of you. You are the sort of girl who is extremely likely to be popular--to have, in short, a following. Now, I don't suppose there is in all the world anything, Betty Vivian, that would appeal to a nature like yours so strongly as to have a following--to have other girls hanging on your words, understanding your motives, listening to what you say, perhaps even trying to copy you. You will be very difficult to copy, Betty, because you are a rare piece of original matter. Nevertheless, all these things lie before you if you act warily now."
"Go on," said Betty; "it is interesting to hear one's self discussed. Of course, Fan, you have a motive for saying all this to me. What is it?"
"I have," said Fanny.
"You had better explain your motive. Things will be easier for us both afterwards, won't they?"
"Yes," said Fanny in a low tone, "that is true."
"Go on, then," said Betty.
"I want to speak about the Specialities."
"Oh, I thought you were coming to them! They are to meet to-night, are they not, in Susie Rushworth's room?"
"That is correct."
"And I am to be present?" said Betty.
"You are to be present, if you will."
"Why do you say 'if you will?' You know quite well that I shall be present."
"Martha West will also be there," continued Fanny. "She will go through very much the sort of thing you went through last week, and she will be given a week to consider before she finally decides whether she will join. Betty, have you made up your mind what to do? You might tell me, mightn't you? I am your own--your very own--cousin, and it was through my father you got admitted to this school."
"Thanks for reminding me," said Betty; "but I don't know that I do feel as grateful as I ought. Perhaps that is one of the many defects in my nature. You have praised me in a kind way, but you don't know me a bit. I am full of faults. There is nothing good or great about me at all. You had best understand that from the beginning. Now, I may as well say at once that I intend to be present at the Specialities' meeting to-night."
"You do! Have you read Rule I.?"
"Oh, yes, I have read it. I have read all the rules."
"Don't you understand," said Fanny, speaking deliberately, "that there is one dark spot in your life, Betty Vivian, that ought to preclude you from joining the Specialities? That dark spot can only be removed by confession and restitution. You know to what I allude?"
Betty stood up. Her face was as white as death. After a minute she said, "Are you going to do anything?"
"I ought; it has troubled me sorely. To tell you the truth, I did not want you to be admitted to the club; but the majority were in your favor. If ever they know of this they will not be in your favor. Oh, Betty, you cannot join because of Rule I.!"
"And I will join," said Betty, "and I dare you to do your very worst!"
"Very well, I have nothing more to say. I am sorry for you, Betty Vivian. From this moment on remember that, whatever wrong thing you did in the past, you are going to do doubly and trebly wrong in the future. You are going to take a false vow, a vow you cannot keep. God help you! you will be miserable enough! But even now there is time, for it is not yet four o'clock. Oh, Betty, I haven't spoken of this to a soul; but can you not reconsider?"
"I mean to join," said Betty. "Rule I. will not, in my opinion, be broken. The rule is that each member keeps no secret to herself which the other members ought to know. Why ought they know what concerns only me--me and my sisters?"
"Do you think," said Fanny, bending towards her, and a queer change coming over her face--"do you think for a single moment that you would be made a Speciality if the girls of this school knew that you had told my father a _lie_? I leave it to your conscience. I will say no more."
Fanny walked out of the room, shutting the door carefully behind her. Miss Symes came up presently. It was the custom of St. Cecilia to be particularly kind to the girls who were in disgrace. Often and often this most sweet woman brought them to see the error of their ways. Mrs. Haddo had told her about Betty, and how endearing she had found her, and what a splendid nature she fully believed the girl to possess. But when Miss Symes, full of thoughts for Betty's comfort, entered the room, followed by a servant bringing a little tray of temptingly prepared tea, Betty's look was, to say the least of it, dour; she did not smile, she scarcely looked up, there was no brightness in her eyes, and there were certainly no smiles round her lips.
"The tray there, please, Hawkins," said Miss Symes. The woman obeyed and withdrew.
"I am glad you have a fire, Betty, dear," said Miss Symes when the two were alone. "Now, you must be really hungry, for you had what I consider only a snatch-dinner. Shall I leave you alone to have your tea in comfort, or would you like me to sit with you for a little?"
"Oh, thanks so much!" replied Betty; "but I really would rather be alone. I have a good deal to think over."
"I am afraid, my dear child, you are not very well."
"On the contrary, I never was better," was Betty's response.
"Your headache quite gone?"
"Quite," said Betty with an emphatic nod.
"Well, dear, I am sorry you have had to undergo this unpleasant time of solitary confinement. But our dear Mrs. Haddo is not really angry; she knows quite well that you did not consider. She takes the deepest interest in you, Betty, my child."
"Oh, don't speak of her now, please!" said Betty with a sort of groan. "I would rather be alone."
"Haven't you a book of any sort? I will go and fetch one for you; and you can turn on the electric light when it gets dark."
"If you have something really interesting--that will make me forget everything in the world except what I am reading--I should like it."
Miss Symes went away, and returned in a few minutes with "Treasure Island." Strange as it may seem, Betty had not yet read this wonderful book.
Without glancing at the girl, Miss Symes again left the room. In the corridor she met Fanny Crawford. "Fanny," she said, "do you know what is the matter with Betty Vivian?"
Fanny smiled. "I have been to see her," she said. "Is she in bad spirits? It didn't occur to me that she was."
"Oh, you have been to see her, have you?"
"Yes, only a short time ago. She looked very cold when I entered the room; but I took the liberty to light the fire, and sat with her until suddenly she got cross and turned me out. She is a very queer girl is Betty."
"A very fine girl, my dear!"
Fanny made no response of any sort. She waited respectfully in case Miss Symes should wish to say anything further. But Miss Symes had nothing more to say; she only guessed that the change between the Betty in whom Mrs. Haddo had been so interested, and the Betty she had found, must be caused in some inexplicable way by Fanny Crawford. What was the matter with Fanny? It seemed to Miss Symes that, since the day when she had taken the girl into her full confidence with regard to the coming of the Vivians, she was changed, and not for the better. There was a coldness, an impatience, a want of spontaneity about her, which the teacher's observant eye noticed, but, being in the dark as to the cause, could not account for.
Meanwhile Betty ate her tea ravenously, and when it was finished turned on the electric light and read "Treasure Island." This book was so fascinating that she forgot everything else in its perusal: the sealed packet in its safe hiding-place, the Specialities themselves, the odious Fanny Crawford, Rule I.--everything was forgotten. Presently she raised her head with a start. It was half-past seven. Olive Repton was coming to fetch her at five minutes to eight, when the Specialities were all expected to assemble in Susie Rushworth's room.
Betty put on a black dress that evening. It was made of a soft and clinging material, and was sufficiently open at the neck to show the rounded purity of the young girl's throat, and short in the sleeves to exhibit the moldings of her arms. She was a beautifully made creature, and black suited her almost better than white. Her curiously pale face--which never had color, and yet never showed the slightest indication of weak health--was paler than usual to-night; but her eyes were darker and brighter, and there was a determination about her which slightly altered the character of her expression.
The twins came rushing in at ten minutes to eight.
"Oh, Bet, you are ready!" exclaimed Sylvia. "You are going to become a real Speciality! What glorious fun! How honored we'll be! I suppose you won't let us into any of the secrets?"
"Of course not, silly Sylvia!" replied Betty, smiling again at sight of her sisters. "But I tell you what," she added; "if you both happen to be awake when I come back, which I think very doubtful, I am going to tell you what happened this morning--something too wonderful. Don't be too excited about it, for it will keep until to-morrow; but think that I had a marvelous adventure, and, oh, my dears, it had to do with dogs!"
"Dogs!" cried both twins simultaneously.
"Yes, such glorious darlings! Oh, I've no time now--I must be off! Good-bye, both of you. Go to sleep if you like; I can tell you everything in the morning."
"I think we'll lie awake if it has anything to do with dogs," said Hetty. "We have been starving for them ever since we came here."
But Betty was gone. Olive took her hand. "Betty," she said as they walked very quickly towards the other wing of the house, "I like you better in black than in white. Black seems to bring out the wonderful--oh, I don't know what to call it!--the wonderful difference between you and other people."
"Don't talk about me now," said Betty. "I am only one, and we shall be seven in a very short time. Seven in one! Isn't it curious? A sort of body composed of seven people!"
"There'll be eight before long. The Specialities are going to be the most important people this term, that I am quite sure of," said Olive. "Well, here's Susie's room, and it wants two minutes to eight."
Susie greeted her guests with much cordiality. They all found seats. Supper was laid on a round table in one corner of the room. Olive, being an old member, was quite at home, and handed round cups of cocoa and delicious cakes to each of the girls. They ate and chatted, and when Martha West made her appearance there was a shout of welcome from every one.
"Hail to the new Speciality!" exclaimed each girl in the room, Betty Vivian alone excepted.
Martha was a heavily made girl, with a big, sallow face; quantities of black hair, which grew low on her forehead, and which, as no effort on her part would keep it from falling down on one side, gave her a somewhat untidy appearance; she had heavy brows, too, which were in keeping with the general contour of her face, and rather small gray eyes. There was no one, however, in the whole school who was better loved than Martha West. Big and ungainly though she was, her voice was one of the sweetest imaginable. She had also great force of character, and was regarded as one of the strong girls of the school. She was always helping others, was the soul of unselfishness, and although not exactly clever, was plodding and persevering. She was absolutely without self-consciousness; and when her companions welcomed her in this cheery manner she smiled broadly, showing a row of pearly white teeth, and then sat down on the nearest chair.
When supper was over, Margaret Grant came forward and stood by the little center-table, on which lay the vellum-bound book of the rules of the club. Margaret opened it with great solemnity, and called to Betty Vivian to stand up.
"Betty Vivian," she said, "we agreed a week ago to-day to admit you to the full membership of a Speciality. According to our usual custom, we sent you a copy of the rules in order that you might study them in their fullness. We now ask you if you have done so?"
"I have," replied Betty. "I have read them, I should think, thirty or forty times."
"Are you prepared, Betty Vivian, to accept our rules and become a member of the Specialities, or do you prefer your full liberty and to return to the ordinary routine of the school? We, none of us, wish you to adopt the rules as part of your daily life unless you are prepared to keep them in their entirety."
"I wish to be a Speciality," replied Betty. Then she added slowly--and as she spoke she raised her brilliant eyes and fixed them on Fanny Crawford's face--"I am prepared to keep the rules."
"Thank you, Betty! Then I think, members, Betty Vivian can be admitted as a member of our little society. Betty, simple as our rules are, they comprise much: openness of heart, sisterly love, converse with great thoughts, pleasure in its truest sense (carrying that pleasure still further by seeing that others enjoy it as well as ourselves), respect to all our teachers, and, above all things, forgetting ourselves and living for others. You see, Betty Vivian, that though the rules are quite simple, they are very comprehensive. You have had a week to study them. Again I ask, are you prepared to accept them?"
"Yes, I am prepared," said Betty; and again she flashed a glance at Fanny Crawford.
"Then I, as head of this little society for the time being, admit you as a member. Please, Betty, accept this little true-lovers' knot, and wear it this evening in your dress. Now, girls, let us every one cheer Betty Vivian, and take her to our hearts as our true sister in the highest sense of the word."
The girls flocked round Betty and shook hands with her. Amongst those who did so was Fanny Crawford. She squeezed Betty's hand significantly, and at the same moment put her finger to her lips. This action was so quick that only Betty observed it; but it told the girl that, now that she had "crossed the Rubicon," Fanny would not be the one to betray her.
Betty sank down on a chair. She felt excited, elated, pleased, and horrified. The rest of the evening passed as a sort of dream. She could scarcely comprehend what she had done. She was a Speciality. She was bound by great and holy rules, and yet in reality she was a far lower girl than she had ever been in all her life before.
The rules were read aloud in their fullness to Martha West, and the usual week's grace was accorded her. Then followed the fun, during the whole of which time Betty was made the heroine of the occasion, as Martha would doubtless be that day week. The girls chatted a great deal to-night, and Betty was told of all the privileges which would now be hers. She had never known until that moment that Mrs. Haddo, when she found what excellent work the Speciality Club did in the school, had fitted up a charming sitting-room for its members. Here, in winter, the fire burned all day. Fresh flowers were always to be seen. Here were to be found such books as those of Ruskin, Tennyson, Browning--in short, a fine collection of the greater writers. Betty was told that she was now free to enter this room; that, being a Speciality, she would be exempt from certain small and irksome duties in order to give her more time to attend to those broad rules of life which she had now adopted as her code.
Betty listened, and all the time, as she listened, her heart sank lower and lower. Fanny did not even pretend to watch Betty now. She had, so to speak, done with her. Fanny felt as sure as though some angel in the room were recording the fact that Betty was now well started on the downward track. She felt ashamed of her as a cousin. She felt the greatest possible contempt for her. But if she was herself to keep Rule I., she must force these feelings out of sight, and tolerate Betty until she saw the error of her ways.
"The less I have to do with her in the future the better," thought Fanny. "It would be exceedingly unpleasant for me if it were known that I had allowed her to be admitted without telling Margaret what I knew. But, somehow, I couldn't do it. I thought Betty herself would be great enough to withstand a paltry temptation of this sort. How different Martha West is! She will be a famous stand-by for us all."
The evening came to an end. The girls went down to prayers.
Betty was now a Speciality. She wore the beautiful little silver badge shining in the folds of her black evening frock. But she did not enjoy the music in the chapel nor Mr. Fairfax's rendering of the evening prayers as she had done when last she was there. Betty had a curious faculty, however, which she now exercised. Hers was a somewhat complex nature, and she could shut away unpleasant thoughts when she so desired. She was a Speciality. She might not have become one but for Fanny. Mrs. Haddo's influence, though unspoken, might have held her back. Margaret Grant might have kept her from doing what she herself would have scorned to do. But Fanny! Fanny had managed to bring out the worst in Betty; and the worst in a character like hers was very vigorous, very strong, very determined while it was in the ascendant. Instead of praying to-night, she turned her thoughts to the various and delightful things which would now be hers in the school. She would be regarded on all hands with added respect. She would have the entrée to the Specialities' delightful sitting-room. She would be consulted by the other girls of the upper school, for every one consulted the Specialities on all manner of subjects. People would cease to speak of her as "that new girl Betty Vivian;" but they would say when they saw her approach, "Oh, she is one of the Specialities!" Her position in the school to-night was assured. She was safe; and Fanny, with that swift gesture, had indicated to her that she need not fear anything from her lips. Fanny would be silent. No one else knew what Fanny knew. And, after all, she had done no wrong, because her secret had nothing whatever to do with the other members of the club. The wrong--the one wrong--which she felt she had committed was in promising to love each member as though she were her sister, especially as she had to include Fanny Crawford in that number. But she would be kind to all, and perhaps love might come--she was not sure. Fanny would be kind to her, of course. In a sort of way they must be friends in the future. Oh, yes, it was all right.
She was startled when Olive Repton touched her. She rose from her knees with a hot blush on her face. She had forgotten chapel, she had not heard the words of the benediction. The girls streamed out, and went at once to their respective bedrooms.
Betty was glad to find her sisters asleep. After the exciting events of that evening, even Dan and Beersheba had lost their charm. So weary was she at that moment that she dropped her head on her pillow and fell sound asleep.