"May I come again to see them, please?" asked Betty. "They've got the spirit of the Scotch dogs. They are the first true friends I have met since I left Scotland."

"And may I make bold to ask your name, miss?" inquired the farmer's wife.

"Yes, you may," said Betty. "It isn't much of a name. It's just Betty Vivian, and I live at Haddo Court."

"My word! Be you one of them young ladies?"

"I don't know quite what you mean; but I am Betty Vivian, and I live at Haddo Court."

"But how ever did you get on the high road, miss?" asked the farmer.

Betty laughed. "I went to the edge of what they call the common," she said. "I found a fence, and I vaulted over--that is all. I don't like your country much, farmer; there's no s.p.a.ce about it. But the dogs, they are darlings!"

"You're the pluckiest young gel I ever come across," said the man. "How you managed to tame 'em is more than I can say. Why, they are real brutes when any one comes nigh the farm; and over and over I has said to the wife, 'You ought to lock them brutes up, wife.' But she's rare and kindhearted, and is very fond of them, whelps that they be."

"I wonder," said the woman, "if missie would come into the house and have a bite of summat to eat? We makes b.u.t.ter for the Court, miss; and we sends up all our eggs, and many a pair of fat chickens and turkeys and other fowl. We're just setting down to dinner, and can give you some potatoes and pork."

Betty laughed gleefully. "I'd love potatoes and pork more than anything," she said. "May Dan and Beersheba dine with us?"

"Well, miss, I don't expect you'll find it easy to get 'em parted from you."

So Betty entered the farmyard, and walked through, in her direct fashion, without picking her steps; for she loved, as she expressed it, a sense of confusion and the sight of different animals. She had a knack of making herself absolutely at home, and did so on the present occasion. Soon she was seated in the big bright kitchen of the farmhouse, and was served with an excellent meal of the best fresh pork and the most mealy potatoes she had seen since she left Scotland. Mrs.

Miles gave her a great big gla.s.s of rich milk, but she preferred water.

Dan sat at one side of her, Beersheba at the other. They did not ask for food; but they asked imploringly for the pat of a firm, brown little hand, and for the look of love in Betty's eyes.

"I have enjoyed myself," said the girl, jumping up. "I do think you are the nicest people anywhere; and as to your dogs, they are simply glorious. Might not I come here again some day, and--and bring my sisters with me? They are twins, you know. Do you mind twins?"

"Bless your sweet voice!" said Mrs. Miles; "is it a-minding twins we be when we has two sets ourselves?"

"My sisters are very nice, considering that they are twins," said Betty, who was always careful not to overpraise her own people; "and they are just as fond of dogs as I am. Oh, by the way, we have a lovely spider--a huge, glorious creature. His name is d.i.c.kie, and he lives in an attic at the Court. He's as big as this." Betty made an apt ill.u.s.tration with her fingers.

"Lor', miss, he must be an awful beast! We're dead nuts agen spiders at the Stoke Farm."

Betty looked sad. "It is strange," she said, "how no one loves d.i.c.kie except our three selves. We won't bring him, then; but may _we_ come?"

"It all depends, miss, on whether Mrs. Haddo gives you leave. 'Tain't the custom, sure and certain, for young ladies from the Court to come a-visiting at Stoke Farm; but if so be she says yes, you'll be heartily welcome, and more than welcome. I can't say more, can I, miss?"

"Well, I have had a happy time," said Betty; "and now I must be going back."

"But," said the farmer, "missie, you surely ain't going to get over that big fence the same way as you come here?"

"And what else should I do?" said Betty.

"'Taint to be done, miss. There's a drop at our side which makes the fence ever so much higher, and how you didn't hurt yourself is little less than a miracle to me. I'll have the horse put to the cart and drive you round to the front entrance in a jiffy. Dan and Beersheba can follow, the run'll do them no end of good."

"Yes, missie, you really must let my husband do what he wishes," said Mrs. Miles.

"Thank you," said Betty in a quiet voice. Then she added, looking up into Mrs. Miles's face, "I love Mrs. Haddo very much, and there is one girl at the school whom I love. I think I shall love you too, for I think you have understanding. And when I come to see you next--for of course Mrs. Haddo will give me leave--I will tell you about Scotland, and the heather, and the fairies that live in the heather-bells; and I will tell you about our little gray stone house, and about Donald Macfarlane and Jean Macfarlane. Oh, you will love to hear! You are something like them, except that unfortunately you are English."

"Don't put that agen me," said Mrs. Miles, "for I wouldn't be nothing else if you was to pay me fifty pounds down. There, now, I can't speak squarer than that!"

Just at that moment the farmer's voice was heard announcing that the trap was ready. Betty hugged Mrs. Miles, and was followed out of the farm-kitchen by the excited dogs.

The next minute they were driving in the direction of the Court, and Betty was put down just outside the heavy wrought-iron gates. "Good-bye, Farmer Miles," she said, "and take my best thanks. I am coming again to see those darling dogs. Good-bye, dears, good-bye."

She pressed a kiss on each very rough forehead, pa.s.sed through the little postern door, heard the dogs whining behind her, did not dare to look back, and ran as fast as she could to the house. She was quite late for the midday dinner; and the first person she met was Miss Symes, who came up to her in a state of great excitement. "Why, Betty!" she said, "where have you been? We have all been terribly anxious about you."

"I went out for a walk," said Betty, "and----"

"Did you go beyond the grounds? We looked everywhere."

"Oh yes," said Betty. "I couldn't be kept in by rails or bars or anything of that sort. I am a free creature, you know, Miss Symes."

"Come, Betty," said Miss Symes, "you have broken a rule; and you have no excuse, for a copy of the rules of the school is in every sitting-room and every cla.s.sroom. You must see Mrs. Haddo about this."

"I am more than willing," replied Betty.

Betty felt full of courage, and keen and well, after her morning's adventure. Miss Symes took Betty's hand, and led her in the direction of Mrs. Haddo's private sitting-room. That good lady was busy over some work which she generally managed to accomplish at that special hour. She was seated at her desk, putting her signature to several notes and letters which she had dictated early that morning to her secretary. She looked up as Betty and Miss Symes entered.

"Ah, Miss Symes!" said Mrs. Haddo. "How do you do, Betty? Sit down. Will you just wait a minute, please?" she added, looking up into the face of her favorite governess. "I want you to take these letters as you are here, and so save my ringing for a servant. Get Miss Edgeworth to stamp them all, and put them into their envelopes, and send them off without fail by next post."

A pile of letters was placed in Miss Symes's hands. She went away at once; and Mrs. Haddo, in her usual leisurely and gracious manner, turned and looked at Betty.

"Well, Betty Vivian," she said kindly, "I have seen you for some time at prayers and in the different cla.s.srooms, and also at chapel; but I have not had an opportunity of a chat with you, dear, for several days. Sit down, please, or, rather, come nearer to the fire."

"Oh, I am so hot!" said Betty.

"Well, loosen your jacket and take off your hat. Now, what is the matter? Before we refer to pleasant things, shall we get the unpleasant ones over? What has gone wrong with you, Betty Vivian?"

"But how can you tell that anything has gone wrong?"

"I know, dear, because Miss Symes would not bring you to my private sitting-room at this hour for any other reason."

"Well, I don't think anything has gone wrong," said Betty; "but Miss Symes does not quite agree with me. I will tell you, of course; I am only longing to."

"Begin, dear, and be as brief as possible."

"I had a headache this morning, and went to lie down," began Betty.

"Miss Symes wanted me to stay lying down until dinner-time, but afterwards she gave me leave to go out when I had been in my room for an hour. I did so. I went as far as that bit of common of yours."

"Our 'forest primeval'?" said Mrs. Haddo with a gracious smile.

"Oh, but it isn't really!" said Betty.

"Some of us think it so, Betty."

Betty gave a curious smile; then with an effort she kept back certain words from her lips, and continued abruptly, "I got to the end of the common, and there was a railing----"