“No one, Betty, ever again.”
“Let me hold it in my hand,” said Betty.
Sister Helen came up with a restorative; and when Betty had taken the nourishing contents of the little, white china cup, she again made use of that extraordinary expression, “Oh, I am so sleepy! Oh, I am tired!”
Still holding the packet in her hand, Betty dropped off into slumber; and when she came to herself the doctors said that the crisis was past.
Betty Vivian recovered very slowly, during which time the rules of the school were altogether relaxed, not only in her favor, but also in favor of the twins, Sylvia and Hetty. They were allowed to spend some hours every day with Betty, and although they spoke very little, they were able to comfort their sister immensely. At last Betty was well enough to leave her bed and creep to any easy-chair, where she would sit, feeling more dead than alive; and, by slow degrees, the girls of the school whom she loved best came to see her and comfort her and fuss over her. Margaret Grant looked very strong and full of sympathy; Martha West had that delightful voice which could not but attract all who heard her speak. Susie Rushworth, the Bertrams, Olive, and all the other Specialities, with the exception of Fanny, came to visit Betty, who, in her turn, loved to see them, and grew better each day, and stronger, and more inclined to eat the good, nourishing food which was provided for her.
All this time she had never once spoke of Fanny Crawford. The other Speciality girls were rather nervous on this account. They wondered how Betty would feel when she heard what had happened to Fanny; for Fanny, after spending a whole day and night in the small and somewhat dismal bedroom prepared for her by Mrs. Haddo’s orders, refused to appear at prayers the following morning, and, further, requested that her breakfast should be taken up to her.
Betty’s life was still hanging in the balance, although the doctors were not nearly so anxious as they had been the day before. Fanny was biding her time. She knew all the rules of the school, having spent so many years there. She also knew well what desolation awaited her in the future in this bright and pleasant school; for, during that painful day and that terrible night, and this, if possible, more dreadful morning, no one had come near her but the servant who brought her meals, no one had spoken to her. To all appearance she, one of the prime favorites of the school and Sir John Crawford’s only daughter, was forgotten as though she had never existed. To Fanny’s proud heart this sense of desertion was almost intolerable. She could have cried aloud but that she did not dare to give way; she could have set aside Mrs. Haddo’s punishment, but in her heart of hearts she felt convinced that none of the girls would take her part. All the time, however, she was making up her mind. Her nicely assorted garments—her pretty evening frocks, her day-dresses of summer and winter, her underclothing, her jackets, her hats, gloves, and handkerchiefs—had all been conveyed to the small, dull room which she was now occupying. To herself she called it Punishment Chamber, and felt that she could not endure the life there even for another hour.
Being well acquainted with the usual routine of the school, Fanny busied herself immediately after breakfast in packing her different belongings into two neat cane trunks which she had desired a servant to bring to her from the box-room. Having done this, she changed the dress she was wearing for a coat and skirt of neat blue serge and a little cap to match. She wrote out labels at her desk and gummed them on the trunks. She examined the contents of her purse; she had two or three pounds of her own. She could, therefore, do pretty much what she pleased.
But although Fanny Crawford had acted perhaps worse than any other girl had acted in the school before, she scorned to run away. She would go openly; she would defy Mrs. Haddo. Mrs. Haddo could not possibly keep a girl of Fanny’s age—for she would soon be seventeen—against her will. Having packed her trunks, Fanny went downstairs. The rest of the upper school were busy at their lessons. Sibyl Ray, who had returned to the lower school, was of course nowhere in sight. Fanny marched bravely down the corridor, along which she had hurried yesterday in nameless fear and trepidation. She knocked at Mrs. Haddo’s door. Mrs. Haddo said, “Come in,” and she entered.
“Oh, it’s you, Fanny Crawford! I haven’t sent for you.”