“Mrs. Haddo wants to see you, Betty.”
“Oh—but—must I go?”
“Need you ask, Betty Vivian? The head mistress commands your presence.”
“Then I will go.”
“Remember, I trust you,” said Miss Symes.
“You may,” answered the girl. She drew herself up and walked quickly and with great dignity through the lounge into the great corridor beyond, and so towards Mrs. Haddo’s sitting-room. Here she knocked, and was immediately admitted.
“Betty, I wish to speak to you,” said Mrs. Haddo. “Sit down, dear. You and I have not had a chat for some time.”
“A very weary and long time ago!” answered Betty. All the vivacity which had marked her face in the lounge had left it.
But Mrs. Haddo, who could read character so rapidly and with such unerring instinct, knew that the girl was, so to speak, on guard. She was guarding herself, and was under a very strong tension. “I have something to say to you, Betty,” said Mrs. Haddo.
Betty lowered her eyes.