Betty Vivian: A Story of Haddo Court School

by L. T. Meade

Out of one hundred and fifty girls it would be impossible to describe more than a few; but at the time when this story opens there was in the upper school a little band of devoted friends who adored each other, who had high aims and ambitions, who almost worshiped Mrs. Haddo, and, as far as possible, endeavored to profit by her excellent training. The names of the girls in question were Susie Rushworth, who was seventeen years of age, and would in a year’s time be leaving the Court; Fanny Crawford, her cousin and special friend—Fanny and Susie were much of the same age, Fanny being a little the younger of the two—two sisters named Mary and Julia Bertram; Margaret Grant, who was tall, dark, and stately, and Olive Repton, everybody’s favorite, a bright-eyed, bewitching little creature, with the merriest laugh, a gay manner, and with brilliant powers of repartee and a good-natured word for every one—she was, in short, the life of the upper school.

None of these girls was under sixteen years of age; all were slightly above the average as regards ability, and decidedly above the average as regards a very high standard of morals. They had all been brought up with care. They knew nothing of the vanities of the world, and their great ambition in life was to walk worthily in the station in which they were born. They were all daughters of rich parents—that is, with the exception of Olive Repton, whose mother was a widow, and who, in consequence, could not give her quite so many advantages as her companions received. Olive never spoke on the subject, but she had wild, impossible dreams of earning her own living by and by. She was not jealous nor envious of her richer schoolfellows. She was thoroughly happy, and enjoyed her life to the utmost.

Among the teachers in the school was a certain Miss Symes, an Englishwoman of very high attainments, with lofty ideas, and the greatest desire to do the utmost for her pupils. Miss Symes was not more than six-and-twenty. She was very handsome—indeed, almost beautiful—and she had such a passion for music and such a lovely voice that the girls liked to call her Saint Cecilia. Miss Arundel was another teacher in the school. She was much older than Miss Symes, but not so highly educated. She only occasionally came into the upper school—her work was more with the girls of the lower school—but she was kind and good-natured, and was universally popular because she could bear being laughed at, and even enjoyed a joke against herself. Such a woman would be sure to be a favorite with most girls, and Mary Arundel was as happy in her life at the Court as any of her pupils. There were also French and German governesses, and a lady to look after the wardrobes of the older girls, and attend to them in case of any trifling indisposition.

Besides the resident teachers there was the chaplain and his wife. The chaplain had his own quarters in a distant wing of the school. His name was the Reverend Edmund Fairfax. He was an elderly man, with white hair, a benign expression of face, and gentle brown eyes. His wife was a somewhat fretful woman, who often wished that her husband would seek preferment and leave his present circumscribed sphere of action. But nothing would induce the Reverend Edmund Fairfax to leave Mrs. Haddo so long as she required him; and when he read prayers morning and evening in the beautiful old chapel, which had been built as far back as the beginning of the eighteenth century, the girls loved to listen to his words, and even at times shyly confided their little troubles to him.

Such was the state of things at Haddo Court when this story opens. Mrs. Haddo was a woman of about thirty-eight years of age. She was tall and handsome, of a somewhat commanding presence, with a face which was capable, in repose, of looking a little stern; but when that same face was lit up by a smile, the heart of every girl in the school went out to her, and they thought no one else like her.

Mrs. Haddo was a widow, and had no children of her own. Her late husband had been a great friend of Mr. Fairfax. At his death she had, after careful reflection, decided to carry on the work which her mother had so successfully conducted before her. Everything was going well, and there was not a trace of care or anxiety on Mrs. Haddo’s fine face.

There came a day, however, when this state of things was doomed to be altered. There is no Paradise, no Garden of Eden, without its serpent, and so Janet Haddo was destined to experience. The disturbing element which came into the school was brought about in the most natural way. Sir John Crawford, the father of one of Mrs. Haddo’s favorite pupils, called unexpectedly to see the good lady.

“I have just got the most exciting piece of news for you,” he said.

“Indeed!” replied Mrs. Haddo.

She never allowed herself to be greatly disturbed, but her heart did beat a trifle faster when she saw how eager Sir John appeared.