“They whispered in the school,” continued Sylvia in a low tone—“I heard them; they did whisper it in the school—that perhaps Betty would—would die. Mrs. Miles, that can’t be true! God doesn’t take away young, young girls like our Betty. God couldn’t be so cruel.”
“We won’t call it cruelty,” said Mrs. Miles; “but God does do it, all the same, for His own wise purposes, no doubt. We’ll not talk o’ that, my lambs; we’ll let that pass by. The thing is for you to tell me what has gone wrong with that bonny, strong-looking girl. Why, when she was here last, although she was a bit pale, she looked downright healthy and strong enough for anything. Eh, my dear dears! you can’t mention her name even now to Dan and Beersheba that they ain’t took with fits o’ delight about her, dancing and scampering like half-mad dogs, and whining for her to come to them. There, to be sure! they know you belong to her, and they’re lying down as contented as anything at your feet. I don’t expect, somehow, your sister will die, my loves, although gels as young as she have passed into the Better Land. Oh, dear, I’m making you cry again! It’s good corned beef and dumplings you want. You mustn’t give way, my dears; people who give way in times o’ trouble ain’t worth their salt.”
“We thought perhaps you’d help us,” said Sylvia.
“Help you, darlings! That I will! I’d help you to this extent—I’d help you even to the giving up o’ the custom o’ Haddo Court. Now, what can I do more than that?”
“Oh, but your help—the help you can give us—won’t do you any harm,” said Hester. “We’ll tell you about Betty, for we know that you’ll never let it out—except, indeed, to your husband. We don’t mind a bit his knowing. Now, this is what has happened. You know we had great trouble—or perhaps you don’t know. Anyhow, we had great trouble—away, away in beautiful Scotland. One we loved died. Before she died she left something for Betty to take care of, and Betty took what she had left her. It was only a little packet, quite small, tied up in brown paper, and sealed with a good many seals. We don’t know what the packet contained; but we thought perhaps it might be money, and Betty said to us that it would be a very good thing for us to have some money to fall back upon in case we didn’t like the school.”
“Now, whatever for?” asked Mrs. Miles. “And who could dislike a school like Haddo Court?”
“Of course we couldn’t tell,” said Sylvia, “not having been there; but Betty, who is always very wise, said it was best be on the safe side, and that perhaps the packet contained money, and if it did we’d have enough to live on in case we chose to run away.”
“Oh, missies, did I ever hear tell o’ the like! To run away from a beautiful school like Haddo Court! Why, there’s young ladies all over England trying to get into it! But you didn’t know, poor lambs! Well, go on; tell me the rest.”
“There was a man who was made our guardian,” continued Sylvia, “and he was quite kind, and we had nothing to say against him. His name is Sir John Crawford.”
“Miss Fanny’s father, bless her!” said Mrs. Miles; “and a pretty young lady she do be.”