htness of the sun. Fanny had been
shocked at what she had witnessed when she saw Betty take the sealed
packet from the drawer. She remembered the whole thing with great
distress of mind, and had felt a sense of shock when she heard that the
Vivian girls were coming to the school. But her feelings were very much
worse when her father had informed her that the packet could nowhere be
found--that he had specially mentioned it to Betty, who declared that
she knew nothing about it. Oh yes, Fanny and Betty were as the poles
apart; and Betty knew now that were she to take the vows of the
Specialities fifty times over she could never keep them, as far as Fanny
Crawford was concerned. Then there was another unpleasant part of the
same rule: "Each girl gives perfect confidence to her fellow-members,
keeps no secret to herself which those members ought to know." Betty
undoubtedly had a secret--a very precious one. She had even told a lie
in order to hug that secret to her breast. She had brought it away with
her to the school, and now it was safe--only Betty knew where.

What puzzled her was this: was it necessary for the members to know her
secret? It had nothing to do with any of them. Nevertheless, she was an
honest sort of girl and could not dismiss the feeling from her own mind
that Rule I. was practically impossible to her. The Specialities had met
on Thursday in Margaret Grant's room. The next meeting was to be held in
Susie Rushworth's. Susie's room was in another wing of the building, and
was not so large or luxurious as that of Margaret. The next meeting
would, however, be quite formal--except for the admission of Betty to
the full privileges of the club, and the reading aloud of the rules to
Martha West. During the course of the week the Specialities seldom or
never spoke of their meeting-day. Nevertheless, Betty from time to time
caught Fanny's watchful eyes fixed on her.

On the next Thursday morning she awoke with a slight headache. Miss
Symes noticed when she came downstairs that Betty was not quite herself,
and at once insisted on her going back to her room to lie down and be
coddled. Betty hated being coddled. She was never coddled in the gray
stone house; she was never coddled on the Scotch moors. She had
occasional headaches, like every one else, and occasional colds; but
they had to take care of themselves, and get well as best they could.
Betty used to shake herself with anger when she thought of any one
maki