"Well, you know in my capacity as chaplain different things come to my ears; but I am under a promise not to repeat them. I am, however, under no promise in this instance. I was walking through the shrubbery half-an-hour ago--I was, in fact, thinking out the little address I want to give the dear girls next Sunday morning--when I suddenly heard a low sob. I paused to listen; it was some way off, but I heard it quite distinctly. I did not like to approach--you understand one's feeling of delicacy in such a matter; but it came again, and was so very heartrending that I could not help saying, 'Who is there? Is any one in trouble?' To my amazement, a girl started to her feet; she had been lying full-length, with her face downwards, on the damp grass. She came up to me, and I recognized her at once. She was Betty Vivian. There was very little light, but I could see that she was in terrible distress. She could scarcely get out her words. 'It is lost!' she said--'lost! Some one has stolen it!' And then she rushed away from me in the direction of the house. I thought it my duty to come and tell you, Mrs. Haddo. The girl's grief was quite remarkable and out of the common. The tone in which she said, 'It is lost--lost!' was tragic." Mrs. Haddo sat very still for a minute. Then she said gently, "Would you rather speak to her, or shall I?" "Under the circumstances," said Mr. Fairfax, "it is only right for me to say something more. Betty Vivian came to see me some days ago, and said that she had been expelled from the Specialities; and she asked me if, under such conditions, she ought to attend evening prayers in the chapel. I begged for her full confidence. She would not give it." "And what did you say about evening prayers?" "I said that was a matter between her own conscience and God. I could not get anything further out of her; but since then you may have observed that she has hardly attended chapel at all." "I certainly have noticed it," said Miss Symes. Mrs. Haddo did not speak for a minute. Then she said in an authoritative voice, "Thank you, Mr. Fairfax; I am deeply obliged to you for having come to me and taken me so far into your confidence. Emma, will you ask Betty to come to me here? If she resists, bring her, dear; if she still resists, I will go to her. Dear Mr. Fairfax, we must pray for this child. There is something very seriously wrong; but she has won my heart, and I cannot give her up. Will you leave me also, dear friend, for I must see Betty by herself?" Miss Symes immediately left the room. The clergyman shortly afterwards followed her example.