Of all the teachers, Miss Symes was the greatest favorite in the upper school. She went swiftly through the lounge, where the girls were usually to be found at this hour chatting, laughing, amusing themselves with different games; for this was the relaxation-hour of the day, when every girl might do precisely what she liked. Miss Symes did not for a moment expect to find Betty in such an animated, lively, almost noisy group. To her amazement, however, she was attracted by peals of laughter; and--looking in the direction whence they came, she perceived that Betty herself was the center of a circle of girls, who were all urging her to "take-off" different girls and teachers in the school. Betty was an inimitable mimic. At that very moment it seemed to Miss Symes that she heard her own voice speaking--her own very gentle, cultivated, high-bred voice. Amongst the girls who listened and roared with laughter might have been seen Sarah Butt, Sibyl Ray, and several more who had only recently been moved to the upper school. "Now, please, take-off Mademoiselle. Whoever you neglect, please bestow some attention on Mademoiselle, dear Betty!" cried several voices. Betty drew herself up, perked her head a little to one side, put on the very slightest suspicion of a squint, and spoke in the high-pitched, rapid tone of the Frenchwoman. She looked her part, and she acted it. "And now Fraeulein--Fraeulein!" said another voice. But before Betty could change herself into a stout German Fraeulein, Miss Symes laid a quiet hand on her shoulder. "May I speak to you for a minute, Betty?" "Why, certainly," said Betty, starting and reddening faintly. "Oh, dear St. Cecilia," exclaimed several of the girls, "don't take Betty from us now! She is such fun!" "I was amusing the girls by doing a little bit of mimicry," said Betty. "Miss Symes, did you see me mimicking you?" "I both saw and heard you, my dear. Your imitation was excellent." "Oh, please, dear St. Cecilia, don't say you are hurt!" cried Sarah Butt. "Not in the least," said Miss Symes. "The gift of mimicry is a somewhat dangerous one, but I don't think Betty meant it unkindly. I would ask her, however, to spare our good and noble head mistress." "We begged of her to be Mrs. Haddo, but she wouldn't," said Sibyl. "Come, Betty," said Miss Symes. She took the girl's hand and led her away. "What do you want with me?" said Betty. The brilliance in her eyes which had been so remarkable a few minutes ago had now faded; her cheeks looked pale; her small face wore a hungry expression. "Mrs. Haddo wants to see you, Betty." "Oh--but--must I go?" "Need you ask, Betty Vivian? The head mistress commands your presence." "Then I will go." "Remember, I trust you," said Miss Symes. "You may," answered the girl. She drew herself up and walked quickly and with great dignity through the lounge into the great corridor beyond, and so towards Mrs. Haddo's sitting-room. Here she knocked, and was immediately admitted.