"Betty, I wish to speak to you," said Mrs. Haddo. "Sit down, dear. You and I have not had a chat for some time." "A very weary and long time ago!" answered Betty. All the vivacity which had marked her face in the lounge had left it. But Mrs. Haddo, who could read character so rapidly and with such unerring instinct, knew that the girl was, so to speak, on guard. She was guarding herself, and was under a very strong tension. "I have something to say to you, Betty," said Mrs. Haddo. Betty lowered her eyes. "Look at me, my child." With an effort Betty raised her eyes, glanced at Mrs. Haddo, and then looked down again. "Wait, please, will you?" she said. "I am about to do so. You are unhappy." Betty nodded. "Will you tell me what is the matter?" Betty shook her head. "Do you think it is right for you to be unhappy in a school like mine, and not to tell me--not to tell the one who is placed over you as a mother would be placed were she alive--what is troubling you?" "It may be wrong," said Betty; "but even so, I cannot tell you." "You must understand," said Mrs. Haddo, speaking with great restraint and extreme distinctness, "that it is impossible for me to allow this state of things to continue. I know nothing, and yet in one sense I know all. Nothing has been told me with regard to the true story of your unhappiness, but the knowledge that you are unhappy reached me before you yourself confirmed it. To-night Mr. Fairfax found you out of doors--a broken rule, Betty, but I pass that over. He heard you sobbing in the bitterness of your distress, and discovered that you were lying face downwards on the grass in the fir-plantation. When he called you, you went to him and told him you had lost something." "So I have," answered Betty. "Is it because of that you are unhappy?" "Yes, because of that--altogether because of that." "What have you lost, dear?" "Mrs. Haddo, I cannot tell you." "Betty, I ask you to do so. I have a right to know. I stand to you in the place of a mother. I repeat that I have a right to know." "I cannot--I cannot tell you!" replied Betty. Mrs. Haddo, who had been seated, now rose, went over to the girl, and put one hand on her shoulder. Betty shivered from head to foot. Then she sprang to her feet and moved a little away. "Don't!" she said. "When you touch me it is like fire!" "My touch, Betty Vivian, like fire!" "Oh, you know that I love you!" sobbed poor Betty. "Prove it, then, dear, by giving me your confidence." "I would," said Betty, speaking rapidly, "if that which is causing me suffering had anything at all to do with you. But it has nothing to do with you, Mrs. Haddo, nor with the school, nor with the girls in the school. It is my own private trouble. Once I had a treasure. The treasure is gone." "You would, perhaps, like it back again?" said Mrs. Haddo. "Ah yes--yes! but I cannot get it. Some one has taken it. It is gone." "Once again, Betty, I ask you to give me your confidence." "I cannot."