"We won't call it cruelty," said Mrs. Miles; "but God does do it, all
the same, for His own wise purposes, no doubt. We'll not talk o' that,
my lambs; we'll let that pass by. The thing is for you to tell me what
has gone wrong with that bonny, strong-looking girl. Why, when she was
here last, although she was a bit pale, she looked downright healthy and
strong enough for anything. Eh, my dear dears! you can't mention her
name even now to Dan and Beersheba that they ain't took with fits o'
delight about her, dancing and scampering like half-mad dogs, and
whining for her to come to them. There, to be sure! they know you belong
to her, and they're lying down as contented as anything at your feet. I
don't expect, somehow, your sister will die, my loves, although gels as
young as she have passed into the Better Land. Oh, dear, I'm making you
cry again! It's good corned beef and dumplings you want. You mustn't
give way, my dears; people who give way in times o' trouble ain't worth
their salt."
"We thought perhaps you'd help us," said Sylvia.
"Help you, darlings! That I will! I'd help you to this extent--I'd help
you even to the giving up o' the custom o' Haddo Court. Now, what can I
do more than that?"
"Oh, but your help--the help you can give us--won't do you any harm,"
said Hester. "We'll tell you about Betty, for we know that you'll never
let it out--except, indeed, to your husband. We don't mind a bit his
knowing. Now, this is what has happened. You know we had great
trouble--or perhaps you don't know. Anyhow, we had great trouble--away,
away in beautiful Scotland. One we loved died. Before she died she left
something for Betty to take care of, and Betty took what she had left
her. It was only a little packet, quite small, tied up in brown paper,
and sealed with a good many seals. We don't know what the packet
contained; but we thought perhaps it might be money, and Betty said to
us that it would be a very good thing for us to have some money to fall
back upon in case we didn't like the school."
"Now, whatever for?" asked Mrs. Miles. "And who could dislike a school
like Haddo Court?"
"Of course we couldn't tell," said Sylvia, "not having been there; but
Betty, who is always very wise, said it was best be on the safe side,
and that perhaps the packet contained money, and if it did we'd have
enough to live on in case we chose to run away."
"Oh, missies, did I ever hear tell o' the like! To run away from a
beautiful school like Haddo Court! Why, there's young ladies all over
England trying to get into it! But you didn't know, poor lambs! Well, go
on; tell me the rest."
"There was a man who was made our guardian," continued Sylvia, "and he
was quite kind, and we had nothing to say against him. His name is Sir
John Crawford."
"Miss Fanny's father, bless her!" said Mrs. Miles; "and a pretty young
lady she do be."
"Fanny Crawford is our cousin," said Sylvia, "and we hate her most
awfully."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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