The girls were absolutely silent. Never before in their sheltered and quiet lives had they come across a character like Betty’s. Such a character was bound to interest them from the very first. It interested them now up to a point that thrilled them. They could scarcely contain themselves. They considered Betty extremely wicked; but in their hearts they admired her for this, and wondered at her amazing courage.
Margaret, who saw deeper, broke the spell. “Betty,” she said, “will you go away now? You have told us, and we understand. We will talk this matter over, and let you know our decision to-morrow. But, first, just say once again what you have said already—that you will not give the packet up, nor tell any one where you have hidden it.”
“I have spoken,” answered Betty; “further words are useless.”
She walked towards the door. Susie Rushworth sprang to open it for her. She passed out, and walked proudly down the corridor. The remaining girls were left to themselves.
Margaret said, “Well, I am bewildered!”
The others said nothing at all. This evening was one of the most exciting they had ever spent. What were “telegrams” or any stupid games compared to that extraordinary girl and her extraordinary revelation?
Margaret was, of course, the first to recover her self-control. “Now, girls,” she said, “we must talk about this; and, first, I want to ask a question: Was there any member of the Specialities who knew of this—I am afraid I must call it by its right name—this crime of Betty Vivian’s?”
“I knew,” said Fanny. Her voice was very low and subdued.
“Then, Fanny, please come forward and tell us what you knew.”