“Well, why have you come to me?” said Mrs. Haddo.
“Because, ma’am, I’ve got a clue, and a big one; and this young lady’s the clue.”
“You, Sibyl Ray—you?”
“Yes,” said Sibyl.
“Speak out now, missie; don’t be frightened. There are miles worse things than poverty; there’s disgrace and heart-burnings. Speak you out bold, missie, and don’t lose your courage.”
“I was miserable,” said Sibyl. “I didn’t want to go to town, and when I got to the station I slipped away; and I got into the lane outside Stoke Farm and a dog came out and frightened me, and—and—then this man came—this kind man——”
“Well, go on, Sibyl,” said Mrs. Haddo; “moments are precious just now.”
“I—took the packet,” said Sibyl.
“You—took—the packet?”
“Yes. I don’t want to speak against another. It was my fault—or mostly my fault. I did love Betty, and it didn’t matter at all to me that she was expelled from the Specialities; I should love her just as much if she were expelled from fifty Specialities. But Fanny—she—she—put me against her.”