as grieving for her father;
but, as a matter of fact, she was not even thinking of him. Every
thought of her mind was concentrated on what she called her present
dilemma. It was almost morning before the tired girl fell asleep.

At half-past six on the following day the great gong sounded through the
entire upper school. Betty started up in some amazement, her sisters in
some alarm.

By-and-by a kind-looking woman, dressed as a sort of housekeeper or
upper servant, entered the room. "Can I help you to dress, young
ladies?" she said.

The girls replied in the negative. They had always dressed themselves.

"Very well," replied the woman. "Then I will come to fetch you in
half-an-hour's time, so that you will be ready for prayers in chapel."

Perhaps Betty Vivian never, as long as she lived, forgot that first day
when she stood with her sisters in the beautiful little chapel and heard
the Reverend Edmund Fairfax read prayers. He was a delicate,
refined-looking man, with a very intellectual face and a beautiful
voice. Mrs. Haddo had begged of him to accept the post of private
chaplain to her great school for many reasons. First, because his health
was delicate; second, because she knew she could pay him well; and also,
for the greatest reason of all, because she was quite sure that Mr.
Fairfax could help her girls in moments of difficulty in their spiritual
life, should such moments arise.

Prayers came to an end; breakfast came to an end. The Vivians passed a
very brisk examination with some credit. As Miss Symes had predicted,
Betty was put into her special form, in which form Susie Rushworth and
Fanny Crawford also had their places. The younger Vivians were allowed
to remain in the upper school, but were in much lower forms. Betty took
to her work as happily (to use a well-known expression) as a duck takes
to water. Her eyes were bright with intelligence while she listened to
Miss Symes, who could teach so charmingly and could impart knowledge in
such an attractive way.

In the middle of the morning there was the usual brief period when the
girls might go out and amuse themselves for a short time. Betty wanted
to find her sisters; but before she could attempt to seek for them she
felt a hand laid on her arm, and, glancing round, saw that Fanny
Crawford was by her side.

"Betty," said Fanny, "I want to speak to you, and at once. We have only
a very few minutes; will you, please, listen?"

"Is it really importan