“I said that was a matter between her own conscience and God. I could not get anything further out of her; but since then you may have observed that she has hardly attended chapel at all.”
“I certainly have noticed it,” said Miss Symes.
Mrs. Haddo did not speak for a minute. Then she said in an authoritative voice, “Thank you, Mr. Fairfax; I am deeply obliged to you for having come to me and taken me so far into your confidence. Emma, will you ask Betty to come to me here? If she resists, bring her, dear; if she still resists, I will go to her. Dear Mr. Fairfax, we must pray for this child. There is something very seriously wrong; but she has won my heart, and I cannot give her up. Will you leave me also, dear friend, for I must see Betty by herself?”
Miss Symes immediately left the room. The clergyman shortly afterwards followed her example.
Of all the teachers, Miss Symes was the greatest favorite in the upper school. She went swiftly through the lounge, where the girls were usually to be found at this hour chatting, laughing, amusing themselves with different games; for this was the relaxation-hour of the day, when every girl might do precisely what she liked. Miss Symes did not for a moment expect to find Betty in such an animated, lively, almost noisy group. To her amazement, however, she was attracted by peals of laughter; and—looking in the direction whence they came, she perceived that Betty herself was the center of a circle of girls, who were all urging her to “take-off” different girls and teachers in the school.
Betty was an inimitable mimic. At that very moment it seemed to Miss Symes that she heard her own voice speaking—her own very gentle, cultivated, high-bred voice. Amongst the girls who listened and roared with laughter might have been seen Sarah Butt, Sibyl Ray, and several more who had only recently been moved to the upper school.
“Now, please, take-off Mademoiselle. Whoever you neglect, please bestow some attention on Mademoiselle, dear Betty!” cried several voices.
Betty drew herself up, perked her head a little to one side, put on the very slightest suspicion of a squint, and spoke in the high-pitched, rapid tone of the Frenchwoman. She looked her part, and she acted it.
“And now Fräulein—Fräulein!” said another voice.
But before Betty could change herself into a stout German Fräulein, Miss Symes laid a quiet hand on her shoulder. “May I speak to you for a minute, Betty?”