e manner.

Sibyl and the farmer had to wait for some little time before Mrs. Haddo
made her appearance. When she did so a great change was noticeable in
her face; it was exceedingly pale. Her lips had lost their firm, their
even noble, expression of self-restraint; they were tremulous, as though
she had been suffering terribly. Her eyes were slightly red, as though
some of those rare tears which she so seldom shed had visited them. She
looked first at Farmer Miles and then in great amazement at Sibyl.

"Why are you here, Sibyl Ray?" she said. "I sent you to London with the
other girls of the upper school this morning. What are you doing here?"

"Perhaps I can tell you best, ma'am, if you will permit me to speak,"
said the farmer.

"I hope you will be very brief, Farmer Miles. I could not refuse your
request, but we are all in great trouble to-day at the school. One of
our young ladies--one greatly beloved by us all--is exceedingly, indeed
I must add most dangerously, ill."

"It's about her we've come," said the farmer.

Here Mrs. Haddo sank into a seat. "Why, what do you know about Miss
Betty Vivian?"

"Ah, I met her myself, not once, but twice," said Miles; "and I love
her, too, just as the wife loves her, and the big twins, and the little
twins, and the dogs--bless 'em! We all love Miss Betty Vivian. And now,
ma'am, I must tell you that Miss Betty's little sisters came to see the
good wife this morning."

Mrs. Haddo was silent.

"They told their whole story to the good wife. A packet has been lost,
and Miss Betty lies at death's door because o' the grief o' that loss.
The little uns--bless 'em!--thought that the wife could find the packet.
That ain't in her line; it's mothering and coddling and loving as is in
her line. So she put the job on me; and, to be plain, ma'am, I never
were more flabbergasted in the whole o' my life. For to catch a poacher
is one thing, and to catch a lost packet--nobody knowing where it be nor
how it were lost--is another."

"Well, why have you come to me?" said Mrs. Haddo.

"Because, ma'am, I've got a clue, and a big one; and this young lady's
the clue."

"You, Sibyl Ray--you?"

"Yes," said Sibyl.

"Speak out now, missie; don't be frightened. There are miles worse
things than poverty; there's disgrace and heart-burnings. Speak you out
bold, missie, and don't lose your courage."

"I was miserable," said Sibyl. "I didn't want to go to town, and when I
got to the station I