The four girls walked rapidly. At last they found a little summer-house which was built high up on the very top of a rising mound. From here you could get a good view of the surrounding country; and very beautiful it was--at least, for those whose eyes were trained to observe the rich beauty of cultivated land, of flowing rivers, of forests, of carefully kept trees. Very lonely indeed was the scene from Haddo Court summer-house; for, in addition to every sc.r.a.p of land being made to yield its abundance, there were pretty cottages dotted here and there--each cottage possessing its own gay flower-garden, and, in most cases, its own happy little band of pretty boys and girls.

As soon as the four girls found themselves in the summer-house, Margaret began to praise the view to Sylvia.

Sylvia looked round to right and to left. "_We_ don't admire that sort of thing," she said. "Do we, Hetty?"

Hetty shook her head with vehemence. "Oh no, no," she said. Then, coming a little closer to Margaret, she looked into her face and continued, "Are you the sort of kind girl who will keep a secret?"

Margaret thought of the Speciality Club. But surely this poor little secret belonging solely to the Vivians need not be related to any one who was not in sympathy with them. "I never tell tales, if that is what you mean," she said.

"Then that is all right," remarked Sylvia. "And are you the same sort of girl, Olive? You look very kind."

"It wouldn't be hard to be kind to one like you," was Olive's response.

Whereupon Sylvia smiled, and Hetty came close to Olive and looked into her face.

"Then we want you," continued Sylvia, "never, never to tell about the burnt sacrifice of the Scotch heather, nor about the flight of the fairies back to Scotland. It tortured Betty to have to do it; but she thought it right, therefore it was done. There are some people, however, who would not understand her; and we would much rather be able to tell our own Betty that you will never speak of it, when she has come back to herself and has got over her howling."

"Of course we'll never tell," said Olive; and Margaret nodded her head without speaking.

"I think you are just awfully nice," said Sylvia. "We were so terrified when we came to this school. We thought we'd have an awful time. We still speak of it as a prison, you know. Do you speak of it to your dearest friend as a prison?"

"Prison!" said Margaret. "There isn't a place in the world I love as I love Haddo Court."

"Then you never, never lived in a dear little gray stone house on a wild Scotch moor; and you never had a man like Donald Macfarlane to talk to, nor a woman like Jean Macfarlane to make scones for you; and you never had dogs like our dogs up there, nor a horse like David. I pity you from my heart!"

"I never had any of those things," said Margaret; "but I shall like to hear about them from you."

"And so shall I like to hear about them," said Olive.

"We will tell you, if Betty gives us leave," said one of the twins. "We never do anything without Betty's leave. She is the person we look up to, and obey, and follow. We'd follow her to the world's end; we'd die for her, both of us, if it would do her any good."

Margaret took Sylvia's hand and began to smooth it softly. "I wish," she said then in a slow voice, "that I had friends to love me as you love your sister."

"Perhaps you aren't worthy," said Sylvia. "There is no one living like Betty in all the world, and we feel about her as we do because she is Betty."

"But, all the same," said Hester, frowning as she spoke, "our Betty has got an enemy."

"An enemy, my dear child! What do you mean? You have just been praising her so much! Did any one take a dislike to her up in that north country?"

"It may have begun there," remarked Hetty; "but the sad and dreadful thing is that the enemy is in this house. Sylvia and I don't mind your knowing. We rather think you like her, but we don't. Her name is f.a.n.n.y Crawford."

"Oh, really, though, that is quite nonsense!" said Margaret, flushing with annoyance. "Poor dear f.a.n.n.y, there is not a better or sweeter girl in the school!"

Sylvia laughed. "That is your point of view," she said. "She is our enemy; she is not yours. Oh, hurrah! hurrah! I see Betty! She is coming back, walking very slowly. She has got over the worst of the howls. We must both go and meet her. Don't be anywhere about, please, either of you. Keep quite in the shade, so that she won't see you; and the next time you meet talk to her as though this had never happened."

The twins dashed out of sight. They certainly could run very fast.

When they had gone Margaret looked at Olive. "Well," she said, "that sort of scene rather takes one's breath away. What do you think, Olive?"

"It was exceedingly trying," said Olive.

"All the same," said Margaret, "I feel roused up about those girls in the most extraordinary manner. Didn't you notice, too, what Sylvia said about poor f.a.n.n.y? Isn't it horrid?"

"Of course it isn't true," was Olive's remark.

"We have made up our minds not to speak evil of any one in the school,"

said Margaret after a pause; "but I cannot help remembering that f.a.n.n.y did not wish Betty to become a Speciality. And don't you recall how angry she was, and how she would not vote with the 'ayes,' and would not give any reason, and although she was hostess she walked out of the room?"

"It's very uncomfortable altogether," said Olive. "But I don't see that we can do anything."

"Well, perhaps not yet," said Margaret; "but I may as well say at once, Olive, that I mean to take up those girls. Until to-day I was only interested in Betty, but now I am interested in all three; and if I can, without making mischief, I must get to the bottom of what is making poor little Betty so bitter, and what is upsetting the equanimity of our dear old Fan, whom we have always loved so dearly."

Just at that moment f.a.n.n.y Crawford herself and Susie Rushworth appeared, walking together arm in arm. They saw Margaret and Olive, and came to join them. Susie was in her usual high spirits, and f.a.n.n.y looked quite calm and collected. There was not even an allusion made to the Vivian girls. Margaret was most thankful, for she certainly did not wish the little episode she had witnessed to reach any one's ears but her own and Olive's. Susie was talking eagerly about a great picnic which Mrs. Haddo had arranged for the following Sat.u.r.day. The whole school, both upper and lower, were to go. Mr. Fairfax and his wife, most of the teachers, and Mrs. Haddo herself would also accompany the girls. They were all going to a place about twenty miles away; and Mrs. Haddo, who kept two motor-cars of her own, had made arrangements for the hire of several more, so that the party could quickly reach their place of rendezvous and thus have a longer time there to enjoy themselves.

"She does things so well, doesn't she?" said Susie. "There never was her like. Do you know, there was a sort of insurrection in the lower school early this morning, for naughty sprites had whispered that all the small children were to go in ordinary carriages and dogcarts and wagonettes.

Then came the news that Mrs. Haddo meant each girl in the school to have an equal share of enjoyment; and, lo and behold! the cloud has vanished, and the little ones are making even merrier than the older girls."

"I wish I felt as amiable as I used to feel," said f.a.n.n.y at that moment.

"Oh, but, Fan, why don't you?" asked Olive. "You ought to feel more and more amiable every day--that is, if training means anything."

"Training is all very well," answered f.a.n.n.y, "and you may think you are all right; but when temptation comes----"

"Temptation!" said Margaret. "In my opinion, that is the worst of Haddo Court: we are so shielded, and treated with such extreme kindness, that temptation cannot come."

"Then you wish to be tested, do you, Margaret?" asked f.a.n.n.y.

Margaret shivered slightly. "Sometimes I do wish it," she said.

"Oh, Margaret dear, don't!" said Olive. "You'll have heaps of troubles in life, for my mother says that no one yet was exempt from them. There never was a woman quite like my darling mother--except, indeed, Mrs.

Haddo. Mother has quite peculiar ideas with regard to bringing up girls.

She says the aim of her life is to give me a very happy childhood and early youth. She thinks that such a life will make me all the stronger to withstand temptation."

"Let us hope so, anyhow," said f.a.n.n.y. Then she added, "Don't suppose I am grumbling, although it has been a trial father going away--so very far away--to India. But I think the real temptation comes to us in this way: when we have to meet girls we can't tolerate."

"Now she's going to say something dreadful!" thought Olive to herself.

Margaret rose as though she would put an end to the colloquy.

f.a.n.n.y was watching Margaret's face. "The girl I am specially thinking of now," she said, "is Sibyl Ray."

"Oh!" said Margaret. She gave a sigh of such undoubted relief that f.a.n.n.y was certain she had guessed what her first thoughts were.

"And now I will tell you why I don't like Sibyl," f.a.n.n.y continued. "I have nothing whatever to say against her. I have never heard of her doing anything underhand or what we might call low-down or ill-bred. At the same time, I do dislike Sibyl, just for the simple reason that she is _not_ well-bred, and she never will be."

"Oh! oh, give her her chance--do!" said Olive.

"I am not going to interfere with her," remarked f.a.n.n.y; "but she can never be a friend of mine. There are some girls who like her very well.