Betty Vivian Part 43

At last, summoning up courage, she did so. To her horror, she saw an enormous spider, the largest she had ever beheld, in the center of the bed! This, then, was d.i.c.kie! He was curled up as though he were asleep.

But as f.a.n.n.y ventured to approach a step nearer it seemed to her that one wicked, protruding eye fastened itself on her face. The next instant d.i.c.kie began to run, and when d.i.c.kie ran he ran towards her. f.a.n.n.y uttered a shriek. It was the culmination of all she had lived through during that miserable evening. One shriek followed another, and in a minute Susie Rushworth and Olive Repton ran into the room.

"Oh, save me! Save me!" said f.a.n.n.y. "Those little horrors have done it!

I don't know where it is! Oh, it is such an odious, dangerous, awful kind of reptile! It's the biggest spider I ever saw in all my life, and those horrible twins came and put it into my bed! Oh, girls, what I am suffering! Do have pity on me! Do help me to find it! Do help me to kill it!"

"To kill d.i.c.kie!" said Susie. "Why, the poor little twins were heartbroken for two or three days because they thought he was lost. I for one certainly won't kill d.i.c.kie."

"Nor I," said Olive.

"Oh, dear! what shall I do?" said poor f.a.n.n.y. "I really never was in such miserable confusion and wretchedness in my life."

"Do, f.a.n.n.y, cease to be such a coward!" said Susie. "I must say I am surprised at you. The poor little twins are almost beside themselves--that is, on account of darling Betty. Betty is so ill; and they think--the twins do----I mean, they have got it into their heads that you--you don't like Betty, although she is your cousin and the very sweetest girl in all the world. But as to your being afraid of a spider!

We'll have a good hunt for him, and find him. f.a.n.n.y, I never thought you could scream out as you did. What a mercy that Miss Symes's room is a good way off from poor darling Betty's!"

"Do try to think of some one besides Betty for a minute!" said f.a.n.n.y; "and you find that horror and put him into his box, or put him into anything, only don't have him loose in the room."

"Well, we'll have a good search," said both the girls, "and we may find him."

But this was a thing easier said than done; for if there was a knowing spider anywhere in the world, that spider was d.i.c.kie of Scotland. d.i.c.kie was not going to be easily caught. Perhaps d.i.c.kie had a secret sense of humor and enjoyed the situation--the terror of the one girl, the efforts of the others to put him back into captivity. In vain Susie laid baits for d.i.c.kie all over the room--bits of raw meat, even one or two dead flies which she found in a corner. But d.i.c.kie had secured a hiding-place for himself, and would not come out at present.

"I can't sleep in the room--that's all!" said f.a.n.n.y. "I really can't--that's flat."

"Oh, stop talking for a minute!" said Olive suddenly. "There! didn't you hear it? Yes, that is the sound of the carriage coming back from the station. Dr. Jephson has come. Oh, I wonder what he will say about her!"

"Don't leave me, girls, please!" said f.a.n.n.y. "I never was so utterly knocked to bits in my whole life!"

"Well, we must go to bed or we'll be punished," said Susie.

"Susie, you are not a bit afraid of reptiles; won't you change rooms with me?" asked f.a.n.n.y.

"I would, only it's against the rules," said Susie at once.

Olive also shook her head. "It's against the rules, f.a.n.n.y; and, really, if I were you I'd pull myself together, and on a night like this, when the whole house is in such a state of turmoil, I'd try to show a spark of courage and not be afraid of a poor little spider."

"A _little_ spider! You haven't seen him," said f.a.n.n.y. "Why, he's nearly as big as an egg! I tell you he is most dangerous."

"That's the doctor! Oh, I wonder what he is going to say!" exclaimed Olive. "Come, Susie," she continued, turning to her companion, "we must go to bed. Good-night, f.a.n.n.y; good-night."

CHAPTER XX

A TIME OF DANGER

f.a.n.n.y was left alone with d.i.c.kie. It was really awful to be quite alone in a room where a spider nearly the size of an egg had concealed himself. If d.i.c.kie would only come out and show himself f.a.n.n.y thought she could fight him; but he was at once big enough to bite and terrify her up to the point of danger, and small enough effectually to hide his presence. f.a.n.n.y was really nervous; all the events of the day had conspired to make her so. She, who, as a rule, knew nothing whatever about nerves, was oppressed by them now. There had been the meeting of the Specialities; there had been the blunt refusal to make Sibyl one of their number. Then there was the appalling fact that she (f.a.n.n.y) was turned out of her bedroom. There was also the unpleasantness of Sibyl's insurrection; and last, but not least, a spider had been put into her bed by those wicked girls.

Oh, what horrors all the Vivians were! What turmoil they had created in the hitherto orderly, happy school! "No wonder I hate them!" thought f.a.n.n.y. "Well, I can't sleep here--that's plain." She stood by the fire.

The fire began to get low; the hour waxed late. There was no sound whatever in the house. Betty's beautiful room was in a distant wing. The doctors might consult in the adjoining room that used to be f.a.n.n.y's as much as they pleased, but not one sound of their voices or footsteps could reach the girl. The other schoolgirls had gone to bed. They were all anxious, all more or less unhappy; but, compared to f.a.n.n.y, they were blessed with sweet peace, and could slumber without any sense of reproach.

f.a.n.n.y found herself turning cold. She was also hungry. She looked at the clock on the mantelpiece; the hour was past midnight. As a rule, she was in bed and sound asleep long before this time. Her cold and hunger made her look at the fire; it was getting low.

Mrs. Haddo was so determined to give the girls of her school every possible comfort that she never allowed them to feel cold in the house.

The pa.s.sages were therefore heated in winter-time with steam, and each bedroom had its own cheery fire. The governesses were treated almost better than the pupils. But then people were not expected to sit up all night.

f.a.n.n.y opened the coal-hod, intending to put fresh coals on the dying fire; but, to her distress, found that the hod was empty. This happened to be a mistake on the part of the housemaid who had charge of this special room.

f.a.n.n.y felt herself growing colder and colder, and yet she dared not go to bed. She had turned on all the electric lights, and the room itself was bright as day. Suddenly she heard the sound of wheels crunching on the gravel outside. She rushed to the window, and was relieved to observe that the doctor's carriage was bowling down the avenue. The doctors had therefore gone. Miss Symes would come to bed very soon now.

Perhaps Miss Symes would know how to catch d.i.c.kie. Anyhow, f.a.n.n.y would not be alone. She crouched in her chair near the dying embers of the fire. The minutes ticked slowly on until at last it was a quarter to one o'clock. Then Miss Symes opened the door and came in. She hardly noticed the fact that f.a.n.n.y was up, and the further fact that her fire was nothing but embers did not affect her in the very least. Her eyes were very bright, and there were red spots on each cheek. The expression on her face brought f.a.n.n.y to the momentary consciousness that they were all in a house where the great Angel of Death might enter at any moment.

Miss Symes sat down on the nearest chair, folded her hands on her lap, and looked at f.a.n.n.y. "Well," she said, "have you nothing to ask me?"

"I am a very miserable girl!" said f.a.n.n.y. "To begin with, I am hungry, for I scarcely ate any supper to-night; I did not care for the food provided by the Specialities. Hours and hours have pa.s.sed by, and I could not go to bed."

"And why not, f.a.n.n.y?" asked Miss Symes. "Why did you stay up against the rules? And why do you think of yourself in a moment like the present?"

"I am sorry," said f.a.n.n.y; "but one must always think of one's self--at least, I am afraid _I_ must. Not that I mean to be selfish," she added, seeing a look of consternation spread over Miss Symes's face. "The fact is this, St. Cecilia, I have had the most horrible fright. Those ghastly little creatures the twins--the Vivian twins--brought a most enormous spider into your room, hid it in the center of my bed, and then ran away again. I never saw such a monster! I was afraid to go near the creature at first; and when I did it looked at me--yes, absolutely looked at me!

I turned cold with horror. Then, before I could find my voice, it began to run--and towards me! Oh, St. Cecilia, I screamed! I did. Susie and Olive heard me, and came to the rescue. Of course they knew that the spider was d.i.c.kie, that horrid reptile those girls brought from Scotland. He has hidden himself somewhere in the room. The twins themselves said that his bite was dangerous, so I am quite afraid to go to bed; I am, really."

"Come, f.a.n.n.y, don't talk nonsense!" said Miss Symes. "The poor little twins are to be excused to-night, for they are really beside themselves.

I have just left the poor little children, and Martha West is going to spend the night with them. Martha is a splendid creature!"

"I cannot possibly go to bed, Miss Symes."

"But you really must turn in. We don't want to have more illnesses in the house than we can help; so, my dear f.a.n.n.y, get between the sheets and go to sleep."

"And you really think that d.i.c.kie won't hurt me?"

"Of course not; and you surely can take care of yourself. If you are nervous you can keep one of the electric lights on. Now, do go to bed. I am going to change into a warm dressing-gown, for I want to help the nurse in Betty's room."

"And how is Betty?" asked f.a.n.n.y in a low tone. "Why is there such a frightful fuss about her? Is she so very ill?"

"Yes, f.a.n.n.y; your cousin, Betty Vivian, is dangerously ill. No one can quite account for what is wrong; but that her brain is affected there is not the slightest doubt, and the doctor from London says that unless she gets relief soon he fears very much for the result. The child is suffering from a very severe shock, and to-morrow Mrs. Haddo intends to make most urgent inquiries as to the nature of what went wrong. But I needn't talk to you any longer about her now. Go to bed and to sleep."

While Miss Symes was speaking she was changing her morning-dress and putting on a very warm woolen dressing-gown. The next minute she had left the room without taking any further notice of f.a.n.n.y. f.a.n.n.y, terrified, cold, afraid to undress, but unable from sheer sleepiness to stay up any longer, got between the sheets and soon dropped into undisturbed slumber. If d.i.c.kie watched her in the distance he left her alone. There were worse enemies waiting to spy on poor f.a.n.n.y than even d.i.c.kie.

In a school like Haddo Court dangerous illness must affect each member of the large and as a rule deeply attached family. Betty Vivian had come like a bright meteor into the midst of the school. She had delighted her companions; she had fascinated them; she had drawn forth love. She could do what no other girl had ever done in the school. No one supposed Betty to be free from faults, but every one also knew that her faults were exceeded by her virtues. She was loved because she was lovable. The only one who really hated her was her cousin f.a.n.n.y.

Now, f.a.n.n.y knew well that inquiries would be made; for the favorite must not be ill if anything could be done to save her, nor must a stone be left unturned to effect her recovery.

f.a.n.n.y awoke the next morning with a genuine headache, fearing she knew not what. The great gong which always awoke the school was not sounded that day; but a servant came in and brought f.a.n.n.y's hot water, waking her at the same time. f.a.n.n.y rubbed her eyes, tried to recall where she was, and then asked the woman how Miss Vivian was.

"I don't know, miss. It's a little late, but if you are quick you'll be down in hall at the usual time."

f.a.n.n.y felt that she hated the woman. As she dressed, however, she forgot all about her, so intensely anxious was she to recover the packet from its hiding-place in her own bedroom. She wondered much if she could accomplish this, and presently, prompted by the motto, "Nothing venture, nothing win," tidied her dress, smoothed back her hair, washed her face, tried to look as she might have looked on an ordinary morning, and finding that she had quite ten minutes to spare before she must appear in hall, ran swiftly in the direction of her own room.

She was sufficiently early to know that there was very little chance of her meeting another girl en route, and even if she did she could easily explain that she was going to her room to fetch some article of wardrobe which had been forgotten.