tting to a host of these younger girls, and, catching Betty's name,
asked immediately what it was all about. Sibyl repeated the story with
much gusto.

"And Betty did look queer!" she added. "I asked her if it was a piece of
wood, and she said 'Yes;' but, all the same, she didn't like me to see
her. Of course she's a darling--there's no one like her; and she
recovered herself in a minute, and walked with me a long way, and then
suggested that I should wear the marguerites. Of course I had to go into
the flower-garden to find Birchall and coax him to cut enough for me.
Then I had to get Sarah Butt to help me to make the wreath, for I never
made a wreath before in my life. But Sarah would do anything in the
world that Betty suggested, she is so frightfully fond of her."

"We are all fond of her, I think," said Martha.

"Well, then she went off for a walk by herself, and I don't think she
came in until quite late."

"You don't know anything about it," said Martha. "Now, look here, girls,
don't waste your time talking rubbish. You are very low down in the
school compared to Betty Vivian, and, compared to Betty Vivian, you are
of no account whatever, for she is a Speciality, and therefore holds a
position all her own. Love her as much as you like, and admire her, for
she is worthy of admiration. But if I were you, Sibyl, I wouldn't tell
tales out of school. Let me tell you frankly that you had no right to
rush up to Betty when she was alone and ask her what she was doing. She
was quite at liberty to thrust her hand into an old tree as often as
ever she liked, and take some rubbish out, and look at it, and drop it
in again. You are talking sheer folly. Do attend to your work, or you'll
be late for Miss Skeene when she comes to give her lecture on English
literature."

No girl could ever be offended by Martha, and the work continued
happily. But during recess that day Sibyl beckoned her companions away
with her; and she, followed by five or six girls of the lower fifth,
visited the spot where Betty had stood on the previous evening. Betty
was much taller than any of these girls, and they found when they
reached the old stump that it was impossible for them to thrust their
hands in. But this difficulty was overcome by Sibyl volunteering to sit
on Mabel Lee's shoulders--and, if necessary, even to stand on her
shoulders while the other girls held her firm--in order that she might
thrust her hand into the hollow of the oak-tr