“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?”