it is uttered. I should like you to hear
her play; it is a perfect delight to teach her; her little fingers seem
to be endowed with the very spirit of music. And then that delightful
voice of hers thrills one when she recites aloud, as she does twice a
week in my recitation-class. As a matter of fact, dear Mrs. Haddo, I am
deeply attached to Betty; but I feel there is something wrong just now."

"A turning-point," said Mrs. Haddo. "How often we come to them in life!"

"God grant she may take the right turning!" was Miss Symes's remark. She
sat silent, gazing gloomily into the fire.

"It is not like you, Emma, to be so despondent," said the head mistress.

"I cannot help feeling despondent, for I think there is mischief afoot
and that Betty is suffering. I wonder if----"

At that moment there came a tap at the door. Mrs. Haddo said, "Come in,"
and Mr. Fairfax entered.

"Ah," said Mrs. Haddo, "you are just the very man we want, Mr. Fairfax!
Please sit down."

Mr. Fairfax immediately took the chair which was offered to him. "I have
come," he said, "to speak to you and to Miss Symes with regard to one of
your pupils--Betty Vivian."

"How strange!" said Mrs. Haddo. "Miss Symes and I were talking about
Betty only this very moment. Can you throw any light on what is
troubling her?"

"No," said Mr. Fairfax. "I came here to ask if you could."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you know in my capacity as chaplain different things come to my
ears; but I am under a promise not to repeat them. I am, however, under
no promise in this instance. I was walking through the shrubbery
half-an-hour ago--I was, in fact, thinking out the little address I want
to give the dear girls next Sunday morning--when I suddenly heard a low
sob. I paused to listen; it was some way off, but I heard it quite
distinctly. I did not like to approach--you understand one's feeling of
delicacy in such a matter; but it came again, and was so very
heartrending that I could not help saying, 'Who is there? Is any one in
trouble?' To my amazement, a girl started to her feet; she had been
lying full-length, with her face downwards, on the damp grass. She came
up to me, and I recognized her at once. She was Betty Vivian. There was
very little light, but I could see that she was in terrible distress.
She could scarcely get out her words. 'It is lost!' she said--'lost!
Some one has stolen it!' And then she rushed away from me in the
direction of the house. I thou