Then Sylvia said, “I am glad you are going!”
“But of course I am going,” said Betty. “Good-night, chickabiddies; good-night. I won’t wake you when I come back. Sleep well!” Betty left the room.
In the corridor outside she met Olive Repton, who said, “Oh, there you are, Betty! Now let’s come. We’ll be two of the first; but that’s all the better, seeing that you are a new member.”
“It sounds so mysterious—a sort of freemasonry,” remarked Betty, laughing as she spoke. “I never did think that exciting things of this sort happened at school.”
“They don’t at most schools,” replied Olive. “But, then, there is only one Haddo Court in the world.”
“Shall I have to take an awful vow; shall I have to write my name in blood in a queer sort of book, or anything of that sort?” asked Betty.
“No, no! You are talking nonsense now.”
By this time they had reached Margaret’s room, and Margaret was waiting for them. Betty gave a cry of rapture when she saw the flowers, and, going from one glass bowl to the other, she buried her face in the delicious perfume.
By-and-by the rest of the Specialities appeared—the Bertrams (who were greatly excited at the thought of Betty joining), Susie Rushworth, and, last to enter, Fanny Crawford.
Fanny had taken great pains with her dress, and she looked her best on this occasion. She gave one quick glance at Betty. Then she went up to her and said, “Welcome, Betty!” and held out her hand.