diately pushed her hand under Betty's pillow, and, taking up
the lost packet, took one of the girl's little, feverish hands and
closed her fingers round the brown-paper parcel.

"It is found, Bettina! it is found!" said Sylvia. "Here it is. You need
not fret any more."

"What! what!" said Betty. Into her eyes there crept a new expression,
into her voice a new note. "Oh, I can't believe it!" she exclaimed.

But here Hetty threw in a word of affection and entreaty. "Why,
Bettina," she said, "it is in your hand. Feel it, darling! feel it! We
got it back for you, just as we said we would. Feel it, Bettina! feel
it!"

Betty felt. Her fingers were half-numbed; but she was able to perceive
the difference between the brown paper and the thick, strong cord, and
again the difference between the thick cord and the sealing-wax. "How
many seals are there?" she asked in a breathless, eager voice, turning
and looking full at her sisters.

"Eight in all," said Sylvia, speaking rapidly: "two in front, two at
each side, and two, again, fastening down the naps at the back."

"I knew there were eight," said Betty. "Let me feel them."

Sylvia conducted Betty's fingers over the unbroken seals.

"Count for me, darling, silly Sylvia!" said Betty.

Sylvia began to count: One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight.

"It is my lost packet!" said Betty with a cry.

"It is, Betty! it is!"

"And is any one going to take it from me?"

"No one, Betty, ever again."

"Let me hold it in my hand," said Betty.

Sister Helen came up with a restorative; and when Betty had taken the
nourishing contents of the little, white china cup, she again made use
of that extraordinary expression, "Oh, I am so sleepy! Oh, I am tired!"

Still holding the packet in her hand, Betty dropped off into slumber;
and when she came to herself the doctors said that the crisis was past.

Betty Vivian recovered very slowly, during which time the rules of the
school were altogether relaxed, not only in her favor, but also in favor
of the twins, Sylvia and Hetty. They were allowed to spend some hours
every day with Betty, and although they spoke very little, they were
able to comfort their sister immensely. At last Betty was well enough to
leave her bed and creep to any easy-chair, where she would sit, feeling
more dead than alive; and, by slow degrees, the girls of the school whom
she loved best came to see her and comfort her and fuss over her.
Margaret Grant