“When you put it like that,” said Betty, “I do get a bit choky. Don’t say too much, or perhaps I’ll howl. I am not so happy as you think. I am fighting 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 the girls never leave the grounds without leave; and as you have broken that rule you must receive the punishment, which is that you remain in your room for the rest of the day until eight o’clock this evening, when I understand 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 and were attacked by those fierce dogs. It was a marvel that they took to you. It is extremely wrong of Farmer Miles to have them loose, and I must speak to him.”
“And please,” said Betty, “may we go to tea there—we three—one evening?”
“I will see about that. Try to keep every rule. Try, with all your might and main, to conquer yourself. I am not angry with you, dear. It is impossible to tame a nature like yours, and I am the last person on earth to break your spirit. But go up to your room now, and—kiss me first.”
Betty almost choked when she gave that kiss, when her eyes looked still deeper into Mrs. Haddo’s beautiful eyes, and when she felt her whole heart tingle within her with that new, wonderful sensation of a love for her mistress which even exceeded her love for Margaret Grant.