"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, why are you speaking to me about them? They are my cousins, and I spent a week with them not very long ago." "You observed how ill Miss Vivian was?" "I used to hear that she was ill; Sylvia used to tell me. Betty couldn't stand anything sad or depressing, so I never spoke to her on the subject." "And you--you liked your cousins? You appreciated them, did you not, Fanny?" "I didn't know them very well," said Fanny in a slightly evasive voice. Miss Symes felt her heart sink within her. She knew Fanny Crawford well. She was the last girl to say a word against another; at the same time she was exceedingly truthful. "Well, dear," said Miss Symes, "your father came here yesterday in order to----" "To see me, of course," interrupted Fanny; "to tell me that he was going to India. Poor darling dad! It was a terrible blow!"