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Chapter 14 Betty Vivian by L. T. Meade

TEA AT FARMER MILES'S

"It's all right, girls!" said Betty in her most joyful tone.

"What is all right, Betty and Bess?" asked Sylvia saucily.

"Oh, kiss me, girls," said Betty, "and let's have a real frolic! To-morrow is Saturday--a half-holiday, of course--and we're going to the Mileses' to have tea."

"The Mileses'!"

"Yes, you silly children; those dear farmer-folk who keep the dogs."

"Dan and Beersheba?" cried Hetty.

"Yes, Dan and Beersheba; and we're going to have a real jolly time, and we're going to forget dull care. It'll be quite the most delightful sport we've had since we came to Haddo Court. What I should love most would be to vault over the fence and go all by our lonesome selves. But we must have a maid--a horrid, stupid maid; only, of course, she'll walk behind, and she'll leave us alone when we get to the farm. She'll fetch us again by-and-by--that'll be another nuisance. Still, somehow, I don't know what there is about school, but I'm not game enough to go without leave."

"You are changed a good bit," said Hetty. "I think myself it's since you were made a Speciality."

"Perhaps so," said Betty thoughtfully.

Sylvia nestled close to her sister; while Hetty knelt down beside her, laid her elbows on Betty's knee, and looked up into her face.

"I wonder," said Sylvia, "if you like being a Special, or whatever they call themselves, Betty mine?"

Betty did not speak.

"Do you like it?" said Hester, giving her sister a poke in the side as she uttered the words.

"I can't quite tell you, girls; it's all new to me at present. Everything is new and strange. Oh girls, England is a cold, cold country!"

"But it is declared by all the geography-books to be warmer than Scotland," said Sylvia, speaking in a thoughtful voice.

"I don't mean physical cold," said Betty, half-laughing as she spoke.

"I begin to like school," said Hetty. "Lessons aren't really a bit hard."

"I think school is very stimulating," said Sylvia. "The teachers are all so kind, and we are making friends by degrees. The only thing that Hetty and I don't like is this, Bet, that we see so very little of you."

"Although I see little of you I never forget you," was Betty's answer.

"And then," continued Sylvia, "we sleep in the same room, which is a great blessing. That is something to be thankful for."

"And perhaps," said Betty, "we'll see more of each other in the future."

"What do you mean?"

"Oh, nothing--nothing."

"Betty, you are growing very mysterious."

"I hope not," replied Betty. "I should just hate to be mysterious."

"Well, you are growing it, all the same," said Hester. "But, oh Bet, you're becoming the most wonderful favorite in the school! I can't tell you what the other girls say about you, for I really think it would make you conceited. It does us a lot of good to have a sister like you; for whenever we are spoken to or introduced to a new girl--I mean a girl we haven't spoken to before--the remark invariably is, 'Oh, are you related to Betty Vivian, the Speciality?' And then--and then everything is all right, and the girls look as if they would do anything for us. We are the moon and stars, you are the sun; and it's very nice to have a sister like you."

"Well, listen, girls. We're going to have a real good time to-morrow, and we'll forget all about school and the lessons and the chapel."

"Oh, but I do like the chapel!" said Sylvia in a thoughtful voice. "I love to hear Mr. Fairfax when he reads the lessons; and I think if I were in trouble about anything I could tell him, somehow."

"Could you?" said Betty. She started slightly, and stared very hard at her sister. "Perhaps one could," she said after a moment's pause. "Mr. Fairfax is very wonderful."

"Oh yes, isn't he?" said Hester.

"But we won't think of him to-night or to-morrow," continued Betty, rising to her feet as she spoke. "We must imagine ourselves back in Scotland again. Oh, it will be splendid to have that time at the Mileses' farm!"

The rest of the evening passed without anything remarkable occurring. Betty, as usual, was surrounded by her friends. The younger Vivian girls chatted gaily with others. Every one was quite kind and pleasant to Betty, and Fanny Crawford left her alone. As this was quite the very best thing Fanny could do, Betty thanked her in her heart. But that evening, just before prayer-time, Betty crossed the hall, where she had been sitting surrounded by a group of animated schoolfellows, and went up to Miss Symes. "Have I your permission, Miss Symes," she said, "not to attend prayers in chapel to-night?"

"Aren't you well, Betty dear?" asked Miss Symes a little anxiously.

Betty remained silent for a minute. Then she said, "Physically I am quite well; mentally I am not."

"Dear Betty!"

"I can't explain it," said Betty. "I would just rather not attend prayers to-night. Do you mind?"

"No, dear. You haven't perhaps yet been acquainted with the fact that the Specialities are never coerced to attend prayers. They are expected to attend; but if for any reason they prefer not, questions are not asked."

"Oh, thank you!" said Betty. She turned and went slowly and thoughtfully upstairs. When she got to her own room she sat quite still, evidently thinking very hard. But when her sisters joined her (and they all went to bed earlier than usual), Betty was the first to drop asleep.

As has already been stated, Betty's pretty little bed was placed between Sylvia's and Hetty's; and now, as she slept, the two younger girls bent across, clasped hands, and looked down at her small white face. They could just get a glimmer of that face in the moonlight, which happened to be shining brilliantly through the three big windows.

All of a sudden, Sylvia crept very softly out of bed, and, running round to Hester's side, whispered to her, "What is the matter?"

"I don't know," replied Hester.

"But something is," remarked Sylvia.

"Yes, something is," said Hester. "Best not worry her."

Sylvia nodded and returned to her own bed.

On the following morning, however, all Betty's apparent low spirits had vanished. She was in that wild state of hilarity when she seemed to carry all before her. Her sisters could not help laughing every time Betty opened her lips, and it was the same during recess. When many girls clustered round her with their gay jokes, they became convulsed with laughter at her comic replies.

It was arranged by Mrs. Haddo that Betty and her two sisters were to start for the Mileses' farm at three o'clock exactly. It would not take them more than half an hour to walk there. Mrs. Miles was requested to give them tea not later than four o'clock, and they were to be called for at half-past four. Thus they would be back at Haddo Court about five.

"Only two hours!" thought Betty to herself. "But one can get a great deal of pleasure into two hours."

Betty felt highly excited. Her sisters' delight at being able to go failed to interest her. As a rule, with all her fun and nonsense and hilarity, Betty possessed an abundance of self-control. But to-day she seemed to have lost it.

The very staid-looking maid, Harris by name, who accompanied them, could scarcely keep pace with the Vivian girls. They ran, they shouted, they laughed. When they were about half-way to the Mileses' farm they came to a piece of common which had not yet been inclosed. The day was dry and comparatively warm, and the grass on the common was green, owing to the recent rains.

"Harris," said Betty, turning to the maid, "would you like to see some Catharine wheels?"

Harris stared in some amazement at the young lady.

"Come along, girls, do!" said Betty. "Harris must have fun as well as the rest of us. You like fun, don't you Harris?"

"Love it, miss!" said Harris.

"Well, then, here goes!" said Betty. "Harris, please hold our hats."

The next instant the three were turning somersaults on the green grass of the common, to the unbounded amazement of the maid, who felt quite shocked, and shouted to the young ladies to come back and behave themselves. Betty stopped at once when she heard the pleading note in Harris's voice.

"You hadn't ought to have done it," said Harris; "and if my missis was to know! Oh, what shows you all three do look! Now, let me put your hats on tidy-like. There, that's better!"

"I feel much happier in my mind now, Harris--and that's a good thing, isn't it?" said Betty.

"Yes, miss, it's a very good thing. But I shouldn't say, to look at you, that you knew the meaning of the least bit of unhappiness."

"Of course I don't," said Betty; "nor does my sister Sylvia, nor does my sister Hester."

"We did up in Scotland for a time," said Hester, who could not understand Betty at all, and felt more and more puzzled at her queer behavior.

"Well, now, we'll walk sober and steady," said Harris. "You may reckon on one thing, missies--that I won't tell what you done on the common, for if I did you'd be punished pretty sharp."

"You may tell if you like, Harris," said Betty. "I shouldn't dream of asking you to keep a secret."

"I won't, all the same," said Harris.

The walk continued without any more exciting occurrences; and when the girls reached the farm they were greeted by Mrs. Miles, her two big boys, and the farmer himself. Here Harris dropped a curtsy and disappeared.

"Oh, I must kiss you, Mrs. Miles!" said Betty. "And, please, this is my sister Sylvia, and this is Hester. They are twins; but, having two sets yourself, you said you did not mind seeing them and giving them tea, even though they are twins."

"'Tain't no disgrace, missie, as I've heerd tell on," said the farmer.

"Oh Farmer Miles, I am glad to see you!" said Betty. "Fancy dear, kind Mrs. Haddo giving us leave to come and have tea with you!--I do hope, Mrs. Miles, you've got a very nice tea, for I can tell you I am hungry. I've given myself an appetite on purpose; for I would hardly touch any breakfast, and at dinner I took the very teeniest bit."

"And so did I," said Sylvia in a low tone.

"And I also," remarked Hester.

"Well, missies, I ha' got the best tea I could think of, and right glad we are to see you. You haven't spoken to poor Ben yet, missie."

Here Mrs. Miles indicated her eldest son, an uncouth-looking lad of about twelve years of age.

"Nor Sammy neither," said the farmer, laying his hand on Sammy's broad shoulder, and bringing the red-haired and freckled boy forward.

"I am just delighted to see you, Ben; and to see you, Sammy. And these are my sisters. And, please, Mrs. Miles, where are the twins?"

"The twinses are upstairs, sound asleep; but they'll be down by tea-time," said Mrs. Miles.

"And, above all things, where are the dogs?" said Betty.

"Now, missie," said the farmer, "them dogs has been very rampageous lately, and, try as we would, we couldn't tame 'em; so we have 'em fastened up in their kennels, and only lets 'em out at night. You shall come and see 'em in their kennels, missie."

"Oh, but they must be let out!" said Betty, tears brimming to her eyes. "My sisters love dogs just as much as I do. They must see the dogs. Oh, we must have a game with them!"

"I wouldn't take it upon me, I wouldn't really," said the farmer, "to let them dogs free to-day. They're that remarkable rampageous."

"Well, take me to them anyhow," said Betty.

The farmer, his wife, Ben and Sammy, and the three Vivian girls tramped across the yard, and presently arrived opposite the kennels where Dan and Beersheba were straining at the end of their chains. When they heard footsteps they began to bark vociferously, but the moment they saw Betty their barking ceased; they whined and strained harder than ever in their wild rapture. Betty instantly flung herself on her knees by Dan's side and kissed him on the forehead. The dog licked her little hand, and was almost beside himself with delight. As to poor Beersheba, he very nearly went mad with jealousy over the attention paid to Dan.

"You see for yourself," said Betty, looking into the farmer's face, "the dogs will be all right with me. You must let them loose while I am here."

"It do seem quite wonderful," said the farmer. "Now, don't it, wife?"

"A'most uncanny, I call it," said Mrs. Miles.

"But before you let them loose I must introduce my sisters to them," said Betty. "Sylvia, come here. Sylvia, kneel by me."

The girl did so. The dogs were not quite so much excited over Sylvia as they were over Betty, but they also licked their hands and wagged their tails in great delight. Hester went through the same form of introduction; and then, somewhat against his will, the farmer gave the dogs their liberty. Betty said, in a commanding tone, "To heel, good boys, at once!" and the wild and savage dogs obeyed her.

She paced up and down the yard in a state of rapture at her conquest over these fierce animals. Then she whispered something to Sylvia, who in her turn whispered to Mrs. Miles, who in her turn whispered to Ben; the result of which was that three wicker chairs were brought from the house, Betty and her sisters seated themselves, and the dogs sprawled in ecstasy at their side.

"Oh, we are happy!" said Betty. "Mrs. Miles, was your heart ever very starvingly empty?"

"Times, maybe," said Mrs. Miles, who had gone, like most of her sex, through a chequered career.

"And weren't you glad when it got filled up to the brim again?"

"That I was," said Mrs. Miles.

"My heart was a bit starved this morning," said Betty; "but it feels full to the brim now. Please, dear, good Mrs. Miles, leave us five alone together. Go all of you away, and let us stay alone together."

"Meanin' by that you three ladies and them dogs?"

"Yes, that is what I mean."

The farmer bent and whispered something to his wife, the result of which was that a minute later Betty and her sisters were alone with the animals. They did not know, however, that the farmer had hidden himself in the big barn ready to spring out should "them fierce uns," as he termed the animals, become refractory. Then began an extraordinary scene. Betty whispered in the dogs' ears, and they grovelled at her feet. Then she sang a low song to them; and they stood upright, quivering with rapture. The two girls kept behind Betty, who was evidently the first in the hearts of these extraordinary dogs.

"I could teach them no end of tricks. They could be almost as lively and delightful as Andrew and Fritz," said Betty, turning to her sisters.

"Oh yes," they replied. Then Sylvia burst out crying.

"Silly Sylvia! What is the matter?" said Betty.

"It's only that I didn't know my heart was hungry until--until this very minute," said Sylvia. "Oh, it is awful to live in a house without dogs!"

"I have felt that all along," said Betty. "But I suppose, after a fashion, we've got to endure. Oh do stop crying, Sylvia! Let's make the most of a happy time."

The culmination of that happy time was when Mrs. Miles appeared on the scene, accompanied by four little children--two very pretty little girls, dressed in white, their short sleeves tied up with blue ribbons for the occasion; and two little boys a year or two older.

"These be the twinses," said Mrs. Miles. "These two be Moses and Ephraim, and these two be Deborah and Anna. The elder of the twinses are Moses and Ephraim, and the younger Deborah and Anna. Now, then children, you jest drop your curtsies to the young ladies, and say you are glad to see them."

"But, indeed, they shall do nothing of the kind," said Betty. "Oh, aren't they the sweetest darlings! Deborah, I must kiss you. Anna, put your sweet little arms round my neck."

The children were in wild delight, for all children took immediately to Betty. But, lo and behold! one of the dogs gave an ominous growl. Was not his idol devoting herself to some one else? In one instant the brute might have sprung upon poor little Deborah had not Betty turned and laid her hand on his forehead. Instantly he gave a sound between a groan and a moan, and crouched at her feet.

"There! I never!" said Mrs. Miles. "You be a reg'lar out-and-out lion-tamer, miss."

"I'm getting more and more hungry every minute," said Betty. "Will--will tea be ready soon, Mrs. Miles?"

"I was coming out to fetch you in, my loves."

The whole party then migrated to the kitchen, which was ornamented especially for the occasion. The long center-table was covered with a snowy cloth, and on it were spread all sorts of appetizing viands--great slabs of honey in the comb, cakes of every description, hot griddle-cakes, scones, muffins, cold chicken, cold ham, and the most delicious jams of every variety. Added to these good things was a great bowl full of Devonshire cream, which Mrs. Miles had made herself from a well-known Devonshire recipe that morning.

"Oh, but doesn't this look good!" said Betty. She sat down with a twin girl at each side of her, and with a dog resting his head on the lap of each of the twins, and their beseeching eyes fixed on Betty's face.

"I ha' got a treat for 'em afterwards, missie," said Mrs. Miles; "two strong beef-bones. They shall eat 'em, and they'll never forget you arter that."

Betty became so lively now that at a whispered word from Sylvia she began to tell stories--by no means the sort of stories she had told at the Specialities' entertainment, but funny tales, sparkling with wit and humor--tales quite within the comprehension of her intelligent but unlearned audience. Even the farmer roared with laughter, and said over and over to his wife, as he wiped the tears of enjoyment from his eyes, "Well, that do cap all!"

Meanwhile the important ceremony of eating the many good things provided went steadily on, until at last even Betty had to own that she was satisfied.

All rose from their seats, and as they did so Mrs. Miles put a pretty little basket into each girl's hand. "A few new-laid eggs, dearies," she said, "and a comb of honey for each of you. You must ask Mrs. Haddo's leave afore you eats 'em, but I know she won't mind. And there's some very late roses, the last of the season, that I've put into the top of your basket, Miss Betty."

Alack and alas, how good it all was! How pleasant was the air, how genial the simple life! How Betty and Sylvia and Hester rejoiced in it, and how quickly it was over!

Harris appeared, and at this signal the girls knew they must go. Betty presented her canine darlings with a beef-bone each; and then, with a hug to Mrs. Miles, a hearty hand-clasp to the farmer and the boys, and further hugs to both sets of twins, the girls returned to Haddo Court.

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