m this minute fund without even telling them that she had
done so. Then the invitations were sent round, and very neatly were they
penned by Susie Rushworth and Olive Repton. It was impossible to ask all
the girls of the school; but a select list from the girls in the upper
school was carefully made, each Speciality being consulted on this
point.
Martha West, who was now a full-blown member, suggested Sibyl Ray at
once.
Fanny gave a little frown of disapproval. "Martha," she said, "I must
say that I don't care for your Sibyl."
"And I like her," replied Martha. "She is not your style, Fan; but she
just needs the sort of little help we can give her. We cannot expect
every one to be exactly like every one else, and Sibyl is not half bad.
It would hurt her frightfully if she were not invited to the first
entertainment after I have become a Speciality."
"Well, that settles it," said Fanny in a cheerful tone; "she gets an
invitation of course."
The teachers were never invited to these assemblies, but there was a
murmur of anticipation in the whole school when the invitations went
round. Who were to be the lucky ones? Who was to go? Who was not to go?
As a rule, it was so managed by the Specialities that the whole of the
upper school was invited once during the term to a delightful evening in
one of the special bedrooms. But the first invitation of the season--the
one after the admission of two new members, that extraordinary Betty
Vivian and dear, good old Martha West--oh, it was of intense interest to
know who were to go and who to stay behind!
"I've got my invitation," said a fat young girl of the name of Sarah
Butt.
"And I," "And I," "And I," said others.
"I am left out," said a fifth.
"Well, Janie, don't fret," said Sarah Butt; "your turn will come next
time."
"But I did so want to see Betty Vivian! They say she is the life of the
whole club."
"Silly!" exclaimed Sarah; "why, you see her every day."
"Yes, but not as she is in the club. They all say that she is too
wonderful! Sometimes she sits down cross-legged and tells them stories,
and they get so excited they can't move. Oh, I say, do--do look! look
what is in the corner of your card, Sarah! 'After supper, story-telling
by Betty Vivian. Most of the lights down.' There, isn't it maddening! I
do call it a shame; they might have asked me!"
"Well, I will tell you all the stories to-morrow," said Sarah.
"You!" The voice was one of scorn. "Wh
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