n her usual leisurely and gracious manner, turned
and looked at Betty.

"Well, Betty Vivian," she said kindly, "I have seen you for some time at
prayers and in the different classrooms, and also at chapel; but I have
not had an opportunity of a chat with you, dear, for several days. Sit
down, please, or, rather, come nearer to the fire."

"Oh, I am so hot!" said Betty.

"Well, loosen your jacket and take off your hat. Now, what is the
matter? Before we refer to pleasant things, shall we get the unpleasant
ones over? What has gone wrong with you, Betty Vivian?"

"But how can you tell that anything has gone wrong?"

"I know, dear, because Miss Symes would not bring you to my private
sitting-room at this hour for any other reason."

"Well, I don't think anything has gone wrong," said Betty; "but Miss
Symes does not quite agree with me. I will tell you, of course; I am
only longing to."

"Begin, dear, and be as brief as possible."

"I had a headache this morning, and went to lie down," began Betty.
"Miss Symes wanted me to stay lying down until dinner-time, but
afterwards she gave me leave to go out when I had been in my room for an
hour. I did so. I went as far as that bit of common of yours."

"Our 'forest primeval'?" said Mrs. Haddo with a gracious smile.

"Oh, but it isn't really!" said Betty.

"Some of us think it so, Betty."

Betty gave a curious smile; then with an effort she kept back certain
words from her lips, and continued abruptly, "I got to the end of the
common, and there was a railing----"

"The boundary of my estate, dear."

"Well," said Betty, "it drove me mad. I felt I was in prison, and that
the railing formed my prison bars. I vaulted over, and got into the
road. I walked along for a good bit--I can't quite tell how far--but at
last two dogs came bounding out of a farmyard near by. They barked at
first very loudly; but I looked at them and spoke to them, and after
that we were friends of course. I sat on the grass and played with them,
and they--I think they loved me. All dogs do--there is nothing in that.
The farmer and his wife came out presently and seemed surprised, for
they said that Dan and Beersheba were very furious."

"My dear girl--Dan and Beersheba--_those_ dogs!"

"Those were the names they called them. We call our dogs on the Scotch
moors Andrew and Fritz. They are much bigger dogs than Dan and
Beersheba; but Dan and Beersheba are darlings for all that. I went into
the M