despairing love for Betty Vivian,
was so exhausted now that she very nearly fainted.

The farmer looked at her out of his shrewd eyes. "Being a member o' the
school, Miss Ray," he said, "you doubtless are acquainted with them
particularly charming young ladies, the Misses Vivian?"

"Indeed I know them all, and love them all," said Sibyl.

"Now, that's good hearing; for they be a pretty lot, that they be. And
as to the elder, I never see'd a face like hers--so wonderful, and with
such a light about it; and her courage--bless you, miss! the dogs
wouldn't harm _her_. It was fawning on her, and licking her hand, and
petting her they were. Is it true, miss, that Miss Betty is so mighty
bad?"

"It is true," said Sibyl; "and I wonder----Oh; please don't leave me
standing here alone on the road. I am so miserable and frightened! I
wonder if it's Sylvia and Hester who are in your house?"

"Yes, they be the missies, and dear little things they be."

"And have they told you anything?" asked Sibyl.

"Well, yes; they have set me a conundrum--a mighty stiff one. It seems
that Miss Betty Vivian has lost a parcel, and she be that fretted about
it that she's nigh to death, and the little uns have promised to get it
back for her; and, poor children! they've set me on the job, and how
ever I'm to do it I don't know."

"I think perhaps I can help you," said Sibyl suddenly. "I'll tell you
this much, Farmer Miles. I can get that packet back, and I'd much rather
get it back with your help than without it."

"Shake hands on that, missie. I wouldn't like to be, so to speak, in a
thing, and then cast out o' it again afore the right moment. But
whatever do you mean?"

"You shall know all at the right time," said Sibyl. "Mrs. Haddo is so
unhappy about Betty that she wouldn't allow any of the upper-school
girls to have lessons to-day, so she sent them off to spend the day in
London. I happened to be one of them, and was perfectly wretched at
having to go; so while I was driving to the railway station in one of
the wagonettes I made up my mind. I settled that whatever happened I'd
never, never, never endure another night like the last; and I couldn't
go to London and see pictures or museums or whatever places we were to
be taken to while Betty was lying at death's door, and when I knew that
it was possible for me to save her. So when we got to the station there
was rather a confusion--that is, while the tickets were being
bought--and I s