“She didn’t want to; but I required some—some handkerchiefs and things of that sort,” said Fanny.
“Well, you haven’t brought any handkerchiefs,” said Miss Symes. “You have only brought a couple of night-dresses.”
“Sister Helen rather frightened me, and I just took these and ran away,” answered the girl. Then she added, lowering her voice, “How is Betty to-day?”
“You will hear all about Betty downstairs. It is time for you to go into the hall. Don’t keep me, Fanny.”
Fanny, only too delighted, left the room. Now she was safe. The worst of all could not happen to her. When she reached the great central hall, where the girls usually met for a few minutes before breakfast, she immediately joined a large circle of girls of the upper school. They were talking about Betty. Among the group was Sibyl Ray. Sibyl was crying, and when Fanny appeared she turned abruptly aside as though she did not wish to be seen. Fanny, who had been almost jubilant at having secured the packet, felt a new sense of horror at Sibyl’s tears. Sibyl was the sort of girl to be very easily affected.
As Fanny came near she heard Susie Rushworth say to Sibyl, “Yes, it is true; Betty has lost something, and if she doesn’t find it she will—the doctor, the great London doctor, says that she will—die.”
Sibyl gave another great, choking sob.
Fanny took her arm. “Sibyl,” she said, “don’t you want to come for a walk with me during recess this morning?”
“Oh, I don’t know, Fanny!” said poor Sibyl, raising her eyes, streaming with tears, to Fanny’s face.
“Well, I want you,” said Fanny. Then she added in a low tone, “Don’t forget Brighton and Aunt Amelia, and the excellent time you will have, and the positive certainty that before a year is up you will be a Speciality. Don’t lose all these things for the sake of a little sentiment. Understand, too, that doctors are often wrong about people. It is ridiculous to suppose that a strong, hearty girl like Betty Vivian should have her life in danger because you happened to find——”