Chapter 22 Betty Vivian by L. T. Meade
FARMER MILES TO THE RESCUE
Sylvia and Hetty had awakened when the farmer brought Sibyl Ray into the pleasant farmhouse kitchen. The twin-boys were absent at school, and only the little twins came down to dinner. The beef, potatoes, dumplings, apple-tart and cream were all A1, and Sibyl was just as glad of the meal as were the two Vivian girls.
The Vivians did not know Sibyl very well, and had not the least idea that she guessed their secret. She rather avoided glancing at them, and was very shy and retiring, and stole up close to the farmer when the dogs were admitted. But Dan and Beersheba knew what was expected of them. Any one in the Stoke Farm kitchen had a right to be there; and were they going to waste their precious time and affection on the sort of girl they would love to bite, when Sylvia and Hetty were present? So they fawned on the twin-girls, taking up a good deal of their attention; and by and by the dinner came to an end.
When it was quite over the farmer got up, wiped his mouth with a big, red-silk handkerchief, and, going up to the Vivian twins, said quietly, "You can go home, whenever you like; and I think the job you have put upon me will be managed. Meanwhile, me and this young party will make off to Haddo Court as fast as we can."
As this "young party" happened to be Sibyl Ray, the girls looked up in astonishment; but the farmer gave no information of any kind, not even bestowing a wink on his wife, who told the little twins when he had left the kitchen accompanied by Sibyl that she would be ready to walk back with them to the school in about half an hour.
"You need have no frets now, my loves," she said. "The farmer would never have said words like he've spoken to you if he hadn't got his knife right down deep into the kernel. He's fond o' using that expression, dears, when he's nailed a poacher, and he wouldn't say no less nor no more for a job like you've set him to."
During their walk the farmer and Sibyl hardly exchanged a word. As they went up the avenue they saw that the place was nearly empty. The day was a fine one; but the girls of the lower school had one special playground some distance away, and the girls of the upper school were supposed to be in London. Certainly no one expected Sibyl Ray to put in an appearance here at this hour.
As they approached quite close to the mansion, Sibyl turned her very pale face and stole her small hand into that of the farmer. "I am so frightened!" she said; "and I know quite well this is going to ruin me, and I shall have to go back home to be a burden to father, who is very poor, and who thinks so much of my being educated here. But I--I will do it all the same."
"Of course you will, missie; and poverty don't matter a mite."
"Perhaps it doesn't," said Sibyl.
"Compared to a light heart, it don't matter a gossoon, as they say in Ireland," remarked the farmer.
Sibyl felt suddenly uplifted.
"I'll see you through, missie," he added as they came up to the wide front entrance.
A doctor's carriage was standing there, and it was quite evident that one or two doctors were in the house.
"Oh," said Sibyl with a gasp, "suppose we are betrayed!"
"No, we won't be that," said the farmer.
Sibyl pushed open the door, and then, standing in the hall, she rang a bell. A servant presently appeared.
Before Sibyl could find her voice Farmer Miles said, "Will you have the goodness to find Mrs. Haddo and tell her that I, Farmer Miles of the Stoke Farm, have come here accompanied by one o' her young ladies, who has something o' great importance to tell her at once?"
"Perhaps you will both come into Mrs. Haddo's private sitting-room?" said the girl.
The farmer nodded assent, and he and Sibyl entered. When they were inside the room Sibyl uttered a faint sigh. The farmer took out his handkerchief and wiped his forehead.
"What a lot o' fal-lals, to be sure!" he said, looking round in a by no means appreciative manner.
Sibyl and the farmer had to wait for some little time before Mrs. Haddo made her appearance. When she did so a great change was noticeable in her face; it was exceedingly pale. Her lips had lost their firm, their even noble, expression of self-restraint; they were tremulous, as though she had been suffering terribly. Her eyes were slightly red, as though some of those rare tears which she so seldom shed had visited them. She looked first at Farmer Miles and then in great amazement at Sibyl.
"Why are you here, Sibyl Ray?" she said. "I sent you to London with the other girls of the upper school this morning. What are you doing here?"
"Perhaps I can tell you best, ma'am, if you will permit me to speak," said the farmer.
"I hope you will be very brief, Farmer Miles. I could not refuse your request, but we are all in great trouble to-day at the school. One of our young ladies--one greatly beloved by us all--is exceedingly, indeed I must add most dangerously, ill."
"It's about her we've come," said the farmer.
Here Mrs. Haddo sank into a seat. "Why, what do you know about Miss Betty Vivian?"
"Ah, I met her myself, not once, but twice," said Miles; "and I love her, too, just as the wife loves her, and the big twins, and the little twins, and the dogs--bless 'em! We all love Miss Betty Vivian. And now, ma'am, I must tell you that Miss Betty's little sisters came to see the good wife this morning."
Mrs. Haddo was silent.
"They told their whole story to the good wife. A packet has been lost, and Miss Betty lies at death's door because o' the grief o' that loss. The little uns--bless 'em!--thought that the wife could find the packet. That ain't in her line; it's mothering and coddling and loving as is in her line. So she put the job on me; and, to be plain, ma'am, I never were more flabbergasted in the whole o' my life. For to catch a poacher is one thing, and to catch a lost packet--nobody knowing where it be nor how it were lost--is another."
"Well, why have you come to me?" said Mrs. Haddo.
"Because, ma'am, I've got a clue, and a big one; and this young lady's the clue."
"You, Sibyl Ray--you?"
"Yes," said Sibyl.
"Speak out now, missie; don't be frightened. There are miles worse things than poverty; there's disgrace and heart-burnings. Speak you out bold, missie, and don't lose your courage."
"I was miserable," said Sibyl. "I didn't want to go to town, and when I got to the station I slipped away; and I got into the lane outside Stoke Farm and a dog came out and frightened me, and--and--then this man came--this kind man----"
"Well, go on, Sibyl," said Mrs. Haddo; "moments are precious just now."
"I--took the packet," said Sibyl.
"_You_--took--the packet?"
"Yes. I don't want to speak against another. It was my fault--or mostly my fault. I did love Betty, and it didn't matter at all to me that she was expelled from the Specialities; I should love her just as much if she were expelled from fifty Specialities. But Fanny--she--she--put me against her."
"Fanny! What Fanny do you mean?"
"Fanny Crawford."
Mrs. Haddo rose at once and rang her bell. When the servant appeared she said, "Send Miss Crawford here immediately, and don't mention that any one is in my study. Now, Sibyl, keep the rest of your story until Fanny Crawford is present."
In about five minutes' time Fanny appeared. She was very white, and looked rather worn and miserable. "Oh, dear!" she said as she entered, "I am so glad you have sent for me, Mrs. Haddo; and I do trust I shall have a room to myself to-night, for I didn't sleep at all last night, and----Why, whatever is the matter? Sibyl, what are you doing here? And who--who is that man?"
"Sit down, Fanny--or stand, just as you please," said Mrs. Haddo; "only have the goodness not to speak until Sibyl has finished her story. Now, Sibyl, go on. You had come to that part where you explained that Fanny put you against Betty Vivian. No, Fanny, you do not go towards the door. Stay quietly where you are."
Fanny, seeing that all chance of exit was cut off, stood perfectly still, her eyes fixed on the ground.
"Now, Sibyl, go on."
"Fanny was very anxious about the packet, and she wanted me to watch," continued Sibyl, "so that I might discover where Betty had hidden it. I did watch, and I found that Betty had put it under one of the plants of wild-heather in the 'forest primeval.' I saw her take it out and look at it and put it back again, and when she was gone I went to the place and took the packet out myself and brought it to Fanny. I don't know where the packet is now."
"Fanny, where is the packet?" said Mrs. Haddo.
"Sibyl is talking the wildest nonsense," said Fanny. "How can you possibly believe her? I know nothing about Betty Vivian or her concerns."
"Perhaps, miss," said the farmer, coming forward at that moment, "that pointed thing sticking out o' your pocket might have something to do with it. You will permit me, miss, seeing that the young lady's life is trembling in the balance."
Before either Mrs. Haddo or Fanny could utter a word Farmer Miles had strode across the room, thrust his big, rough hand into Fanny's neat little pocket, and taken out the brown paper-packet.
"There, now," he said, "that's the kernel of the nut. I thought I'd do it somehow. Thank you kindly, ma'am, for listening to me. Miss Sibyl Ray, you may be poor in the future, but at least you'll have a light heart; and as to the dirty trick you did, I guess you won't do a second, for you have learned your lesson. I'll be wishing you good-morning now, ma'am," he added, turning to Mrs. Haddo, "for I must get back to my work. It's twelve pounds o' butter the cook wants sent up without fail to-night, ma'am; and I'm much obliged for the order."
The farmer left the room. Fanny had flung herself on a chair and covered her face with her hands. Sibyl stood motionless, awaiting Mrs. Haddo's verdict.
Once again Mrs. Haddo rang the bell. "Send Miss Symes to me," she said.
Miss Symes appeared.
"The doctor's last opinion, please, Miss Symes?"
"Dr. Ashley says that Betty is much the same. The question now is how to keep up her strength. He thinks it better to have two specialists from London, as, if she continues in such intense excitement, further complications may arise."
"Do you know where Betty's sisters are?" was Mrs. Haddo's next inquiry.
"I haven't seen them for some time, but I will find out where they are."
"As soon as ever you find them, send them straight to me. I shall be here for the present."
Miss Symes glanced in some wonder from Sibyl to Fanny; then she went out of the room without further comment.
When she was quite alone with the girls Mrs. Haddo said, "Fanny, a fresh bedroom has been prepared for you, and I shall be glad if you will go and spend the rest of this day there. I do not feel capable of speaking to you at present. As to you, Sibyl, your conduct has been bad enough; but at the eleventh hour--and, we may hope, in time--you have made restitution. You may, therefore, rejoin the girls of the lower school."
"Of the lower school?" said Sibyl.
"Yes. Your punishment is that you return to the lower school for at least a year, until you are more capable of guiding your own conduct, and less likely to be influenced by the wicked passions of girls who have had more experience than yourself. You can go to your room also for the present, and to-morrow morning you will resume your duties in the lower school."
Fanny and Sibyl both turned away, neither of them saying a word to the other. They had scarcely done so before Miss Symes came in, her face flushed with excitement, and accompanied by the twins.
"My dear girls, where have you been?" said Mrs. Haddo.
"With Mrs. Miles," said Sylvia.
"I cannot blame you, under the circumstances, although you have broken a rule. My dears, thank God for His mercies. Here is the lost packet."
Sylvia grasped it.
Hester rushed towards Sylvia and laid her hand over her sister's. "Oh! oh!" she said.
"Now, girls, can I trust you? I was told what took place this morning--how you went to Betty without leave, and promised to return with the packet. Is Betty awake at present, Miss Symes?"
"Yes," said Miss Symes, "she has been awake for a long time."
"Will you take the girls up to Betty's room? Do not go in yourself. Now, girls, I trust to your wisdom, and to your love of Betty, to do this thing very quietly."
"You may trust us," said Hetty.
They left the room. They followed Miss Symes upstairs. They entered the beautiful room where Betty was lying, her eyes shining brightly, fever high on her cheeks.
It was Hetty who put the packet into her hand. "Here it is, Betty darling. We said we'd find it for you."
Then a wonderful thing happened; for Betty looked at the packet, then she smiled, then she raised it to her lips and kissed it, then she put it under her pillow. Finally she said, "Oh, I am sleepy! Oh, I am tired!"