“Her fall is certain,” thought Fanny to herself. “I wonder how she will like what lies before her to-night. I at least have done my best.”
Punctual to the hour, the Specialities met in Margaret’s room. There was no supper on this occasion, nor any appearance of festivity. The pretty flowers which Margaret usually favored were conspicuous by their absence. Even the electric light was used but sparingly. None of the girls dressed for this evening, but wore their usual afternoon frocks. Betty, however, wore white, and walked into the room with her head well erect and her step firm.
“Sit down, Betty, won’t you?” said Margaret.
“Thanks, Margaret!” answered Betty; and she sank into a chair. She chose one that was in such a position that she could face the six girls who were now prepared to judge her on her own merits. She looked at them very quietly. Her face was pale, and her eyes not as bright as usual.
“I am deputed by the others to speak to you, Betty,” said Margaret. “We will make no comment whatsoever with regard to what you told us last night. It isn’t for us to punish you for having told a lie. We have ourselves done very wrong in our lives, and we doubtless have not been tempted as you have been; and then, Betty Vivian, I can assure you that, although you have been but a short time in the school, we all—I think I may say all—love you.”
Betty’s eyes softened. She hitched her chair round a little, so that she no longer saw Fanny, but could look at Margaret Grant and Martha West, who were sitting side by side. Susie’s pretty face was fairly shining with eagerness, and Olive’s eyes were full of tears. The Bertrams clasped each other’s hands, and but for Margaret’s restraining presence would have rushed to Betty’s there and then and embraced her.
“But,” said Margaret, “although we do love you—and I think will always love you, Betty—we must do our duty by the club. You confessed a sin to us—not at the time, as you ought to have done, but later on. No one compelled you to confess what you did last night. There was no outside pressure brought to bear on you. It must have been your conscience.”
“I told you so,” said Betty.
“Therefore,” continued Margaret, “your conscience must be very wide-awake, Betty, and you have done—well, so far—very nobly; so nobly that nothing will induce us to ask you to withdraw from our club, provided——”
Betty’s eyes brightened, and some of the tension in her face relaxed.