ar won't be long in going by. I know, of
course, to what you were alluding--your dear father's sudden departure
for India."

"Yes, St. Cecilia," replied Fanny, looking up into Miss Symes's face;
"and I am sure neither Susie nor I mind in the least your overhearing
what we were talking about. Do we Susie?"

"No," replied Susie; "how could we? St. Cecilia, if you think you have
been playing the spy, we will punish you by making you sing for us
to-night."

Here Susie linked her hand lovingly through Miss Symes's arm. Miss Symes
bent and kissed the girl's eager face.

"I will sing for you with pleasure, dear, if I have a moment of time to
spare. But now I have come to fetch Fanny. I want to have a little talk
with her all by herself. Fan, will you come with me?"

Fanny Crawford raised her pretty, dark eyebrows in some surprise. What
could this portend? There was a sort of code of honor at the school that
the girls were never to be disturbed by the teachers during the
half-holiday hours.

"Come, Fanny," said Miss Symes; and the two walked away in another
direction for some little distance.

The day was a glorious one towards the end of September. Miss Symes
chose an open bench in a part of the grounds where the forest land was
more or less cleared away. She invited Fanny to seat herself, and took a
place by her side.

"Now, my dear," she said, "I have a piece of news for you which will, I
think, please you very much."

"Oh, what can please me when father is going?" said Fanny, her eyes
filling with tears.

"Nevertheless, this may. You have, of course, heard of--indeed, I have
been given to understand that you know--your cousins, the Vivians?"

Fanny's face flushed. It became a vivid crimson, then the color faded
slowly from her cheeks; and she looked at Miss Symes, amazement in her
glance. "My cousins--the Vivians!" she exclaimed. "Do you mean
Betty--Betty and her sisters?"

"Yes, I think Betty is the name of one of the girls."

"There are three," said Fanny. "There's Betty, who is about my age; and
then there are the twins, Sylvia and Hetty."

"Then, of course, you _do_ know them, dear?"

"Yes, I know them. I went to stay with them in Scotland for a week
during last holidays. My cousin--their aunt, Miss Vivian--was very ill,
however, and we had to keep things rather quiet. They lived at a place
called Craigie Muir--quite beautiful, you know, but very, very wild."

"That doesn't matter, dear."

"Well,