“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.”