“I was sixteen my last birthday, and that was six months ago, and one fortnight and three days,” replied Betty in a very distinct voice, holding herself bolt upright, and looking with those strange eyes full into Mrs. Haddo’s face. She spoke with extreme defiance. But she suddenly met a rebuff—a kind of rebuff that she did not expect; for Mrs. Haddo’s eyes looked back at her with such a world of love, sympathy, and understanding that the girl felt that choking in her throat and that bursting sensation in her heart which she dreaded more than anything else. She instantly lowered her brilliant eyes and stood back, waiting for her sisters to speak.
Sylvia came up a little pertly. “Hetty and I are twins,” she said, “and we’ll be fifteen our next birthday; but that’s not for a long time yet.”
“Well, my dears, I am glad to welcome you all three, and I hope you will have a happy time in my school. I will not trouble you with rules or anything irksome of that sort to-day. You will like to see your cousin, Fanny Crawford. She is busy at lessons now; so I would first of all suggest that you go to your room, and change your dress, and get tidy after your journey. You have come here nice and early; and in honor of your arrival I will give, what is my invariable custom, a half-holiday to the upper school, so that you may get to know your companions.”
“Ask Miss Symes to be good enough to come here,” said Betty, but Betty would not raise her eyes. She was standing very still, her hands locked tightly together. Mrs. Haddo walked to the bell and rang it. A servant appeared.
“Ask Miss Symes to be good enough to come here,” said Mrs. Haddo.
The English governess with the charming, noble face presently appeared.
“Miss Symes,” said Mrs. Haddo, “may I introduce you to Sir John Crawford?”
Sir John bowed, and the governess bent her head gracefully.
“And these are your new pupils, the Vivians. This is Betty, and this little girl is Sylvia. Am I not right, dear?”
“No; I am Hester,” said the girl addressed as Sylvia.