“Nonsense, nonsense, child! I said I would do my best. Now, keep up your friendship with Martha—that is, if you are wise.”
Sibyl left the room. Her momentary elation was over, and she began to hate herself for what she had done. In all probability she would not be elected a Speciality, and then what reward would she have for acting the spy? She had acted the spy. The plain truth seemed now to flash before her eyes. She had been very mean and hard; and she had taken something which, after all, did not belong to her at all, and given it to Fanny. She could never get that something back. She felt that she did not dare to look at Betty Vivian. Why should not Betty hide things if she liked in the stump of an old oak-tree or under a bit of tiresome heather in the “forest primeval?” After all, Betty had not said the thing was wood; but when Sibyl had asked her she had said, “Have it so if you like.” Oh! Sibyl felt just now that she had been made a sort of cat’s-paw, and that she did not like Fanny Crawford one bit.
CHAPTER XVII
A TURNING-POINT
After this exciting day matters seemed to move rather languidly in the school. Betty was beyond doubt in low spirits. She did not complain; she did not take any one into her confidence. Even to her sisters she was gloomy and silent. She took long walks by herself. She neglected no duty—that is, no apparent duty—and her lessons progressed swimmingly. Her two great talents—the one for music, the other for recitation—were bringing her into special notice amongst the different teachers. She was looked upon by the educational staff as a girl who might bring marked distinction to the school. Thus the last few days of that miserable week passed.
On Tuesday evening Miss Symes had a little talk with Mrs. Haddo.
“What is it, dear St. Cecilia?” asked the head mistress, looking lovingly into the face of her favorite teacher.
“I am anxious about Betty,” was the reply.