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diff --git a/20730-h/20730-h.htm b/20730-h/20730-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..c543334 --- /dev/null +++ b/20730-h/20730-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,10065 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<html> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=ISO-8859-1" /> +<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of For the Sake of the School, by Angela Brazil</title> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + p { margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; + } + hr { width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; + } + + table {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;} + + body{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + } + + .pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ + /* visibility: hidden; */ + position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: smaller; + text-align: right; + } /* page numbers */ + + .linenum {position: absolute; top: auto; left: 4%;} /* poetry number */ + .blockquot{margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 10%;} + + .alignright {text-align: right;} + .center {text-align: center;} + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + .caption {font-weight: bold;} + + .figright {float: right; clear: right; margin-left: 1em; margin-bottom: 1em; + margin-top: 1em; margin-right: 0; padding: 0; text-align: center;} + .figcenter {margin: auto; text-align: center;} + + /* poetry formatting */ + div.poem {text-align:left; margin-left:5%; width:90%; position: relative; margin-top: 1em} + .poem br {display: none;} + .poem .stanza {margin-top: 1em;} + .poem .i0 {display:block; margin-left: 2em;} + .poem .i4 {display:block; margin-left: 6em;} + + .stanza span, .stanza div, .stanza p + {display:block; line-height: 1.2em; margin-left: 2em; text-indent: -2em; margin-top: 0;} + .stanza br {display: none;} + + a {text-decoration: none;} + hr.full { width: 100%; + margin-top: 3em; + margin-bottom: 0em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + height: 4px; + border-width: 4px 0 0 0; /* remove all borders except the top one */ + border-style: solid; + border-color: #000000; + clear: both; } + pre {font-size: 80%;} + // --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> +</head> +<body> +<h1>The Project Gutenberg eBook, For the Sake of the School, by Angela Brazil</h1> +<pre> +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at <a href = "http://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a></pre> +<p>Title: For the Sake of the School</p> +<p>Author: Angela Brazil</p> +<p>Release Date: March 3, 2007 [eBook #20730]</p> +<p>Language: English</p> +<p>Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1</p> +<p>***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FOR THE SAKE OF THE SCHOOL***</p> +<p> </p> +<h3>E-text prepared by Marc Hens, Suzanne Shell,<br /> + and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team<br /> + (http://www.pgdp.net/c/)</h3> +<p> </p> +<hr class="full" /> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> + +<h1>For the Sake of the School</h1> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h5>BLACKIE & SON LIMITED<br /> +16/18 William IV Street, Charing Cross, <span class="smcap">London</span>, W.C.2<br /> +17 Stanhope Street, <span class="smcap">Glasgow</span></h5> + +<h5>BLACKIE & SON (INDIA) LIMITED<br /> +103/5 Fort Street, <span class="smcap">Bombay</span></h5> + +<h5>BLACKIE & SON (CANADA) LIMITED<br /> +<span class="smcap">Toronto</span></h5> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 519px; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em"> +<a name="I_felt_I_must_speak_to_you" id="I_felt_I_must_speak_to_you"> + <img src="images/frontis01-cs.jpg" alt=""I felt I must speak to you" Page 234 Frontispiece" +title="" width="565" height="800"/></a> +<p style="text-align:center;"><a href="#Ill_Frontispiece">"I felt I must speak to you"</a><br /> +<a href="#Page_234"><i>Page</i> 234</a></p> +<p style="text-align:right; margin-right:10%; margin-top:-2em"><i>Frontispiece</i></p> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p style="text-align:center;font-size:300%; margin-top:30px; margin-bottom:100px;">For the Sake of the<br />School</p> +<p style="text-align:center;font-size:100%; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:15px;">by</p> +<p style="text-align:center;font-size:180%; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:5px;">Angela Brazil</p> +<p style="text-align:center;font-size:90%; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:170px;">Author of "The School on the Loch"<br /> +"The School at the Turrets", &c.</p> +<p style="text-align:center;font-size:130%; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:210px; font-style:italic;">With Frontispiece</p> +<p style="text-align:center;font-size:140%; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:5px;">BLACKIE & SON LIMITED</p> +<p style="text-align:center;font-size:120%; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:5px;">LONDON AND GLASGOW</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h5><a name="Printed_in_Great_Britain_by_Blackie_Son_Ltd_Glasgow" id="Printed_in_Great_Britain_by_Blackie_Son_Ltd_Glasgow"></a><i>Printed in Great Britain by Blackie & Son, Ltd., Glasgow</i></h5> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h5>TO THE<br /> +SCHOOLGIRL READERS<br /> +WHO HAVE SENT ME<br /> +SUCH NICE LETTERS</h5> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>Contents</h2> +<div class="table"> +<table style="font-size: 100%;" width="30%" summary="Contents"> +<tr> +<td class="alignright"><span class="smcap">Chap</span>.</td> +<td></td> +<td class="alignright">Page</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="alignright">I.</td> +<td><span class="smcap"><a name="TOC_I" id="TOC_I" href="#CHAPTER_I">The Woodlands</a></span></td> +<td class="alignright">11</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="alignright">II.</td> +<td><span class="smcap"><a name="TOC_II" id="TOC_II" href="#CHAPTER_II">A Friend from the Bush</a></span></td> +<td class="alignright">24</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="alignright">III.</td> +<td><span class="smcap"><a name="TOC_III" id="TOC_III" href="#CHAPTER_III">Round the Camp-fire</a></span></td> +<td class="alignright">36</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="alignright">IV.</td> +<td><span class="smcap"><a name="TOC_IV" id="TOC_IV" href="#CHAPTER_IV">A Blackberry Foray</a></span></td> +<td class="alignright">51</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="alignright">V.</td> +<td><span class="smcap"><a name="TOC_V" id="TOC_V" href="#CHAPTER_V">On Sufferance</a></span></td> +<td class="alignright">66</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="alignright">VI.</td> +<td><span class="smcap"><a name="TOC_VI" id="TOC_VI" href="#CHAPTER_VI">Quits</a></span></td> +<td class="alignright">77</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="alignright">VII.</td> +<td><span class="smcap"><a name="TOC_VII" id="TOC_VII" href="#CHAPTER_VII">The Cuckoo's Progress</a></span></td> +<td class="alignright">87</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="alignright">VIII.</td> +<td><span class="smcap"><a name="TOC_VIII" id="TOC_VIII" href="#CHAPTER_VIII">The "Stunt"</a></span></td> +<td class="alignright">104</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="alignright">IX.</td> +<td><span class="smcap"><a name="TOC_IX" id="TOC_IX" href="#CHAPTER_IX">A January Picnic</a></span></td> +<td class="alignright">117</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="alignright">X.</td> +<td><span class="smcap"><a name="TOC_X" id="TOC_X" href="#CHAPTER_X">Trespassers Beware!</a></span></td> +<td class="alignright">130</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="alignright">XI.</td> +<td><span class="smcap"><a name="TOC_XI" id="TOC_XI" href="#CHAPTER_XI">Rona receives News</a></span></td> +<td class="alignright">142</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="alignright">XII.</td> +<td><span class="smcap"><a name="TOC_XII" id="TOC_XII" href="#CHAPTER_XII">Sentry Duty</a></span></td> +<td class="alignright">156</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="alignright">XIII.</td> +<td><span class="smcap"><a name="TOC_XIII" id="TOC_XIII" href="#CHAPTER_XIII">Under Canvas</a></span></td> +<td class="alignright">170</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="alignright">XIV.</td> +<td><span class="smcap"><a name="TOC_XIV" id="TOC_XIV" href="#CHAPTER_XIV">Susannah Maude</a></span></td> +<td class="alignright">183</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="alignright">XV.</td> +<td><span class="smcap"><a name="TOC_XV" id="TOC_XV" href="#CHAPTER_XV">A Point of Honour</a></span></td> +<td class="alignright">194</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="alignright">XVI.</td> +<td><span class="smcap"><a name="TOC_XVI" id="TOC_XVI" href="#CHAPTER_XVI">Amateur Conjuring</a></span></td> +<td class="alignright">208</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="alignright">XVII.</td> +<td><span class="smcap"><a name="TOC_XVII" id="TOC_XVII" href="#CHAPTER_XVII">A Storm-cloud</a></span></td> +<td class="alignright">221</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="alignright">XVIII.</td> +<td><span class="smcap"><a name="TOC_XVIII" id="TOC_XVIII" href="#CHAPTER_XVIII">Light</a></span></td> +<td class="alignright">233</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="alignright">XIX.</td> +<td><span class="smcap"><a name="TOC_XIX" id="TOC_XIX" href="#CHAPTER_XIX">A Surprise</a></span></td> +<td class="alignright">249</td> +</tr> + +</table> +</div> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em"> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span> +<h1><a name="FOR_THE_SAKE_OF" id="FOR_THE_SAKE_OF"></a>FOR THE SAKE OF THE SCHOOL</h1> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_I" id="CHAPTER_I"></a><a href="#TOC_I">CHAPTER I</a></h2> + +<h3>The Woodlands</h3> +</div> + +<p>"Are they never going to turn up?"</p> + +<p>"It's almost four now!"</p> + +<p>"They'll be left till the six-thirty!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, don't alarm yourself! The valley train +always waits for the express."</p> + +<p>"It's coming in now!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, good, so it is!"</p> + +<p>"Late by twenty minutes exactly!"</p> + +<p>"Stand back there!" yelled a porter, setting +down a box with a slam, and motioning the excited, +fluttering group of girls to a position of greater +safety than the extreme edge of the platform. +"Llangarmon Junction! Change for Glanafon +and Graigwen!"</p> + +<p>Snorting and puffing, as if in agitated apology +for the tardiness of its arrival, the train came +steaming into the station, the drag of its brakes<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span> +adding yet another item of noise to the prevailing +babel. Intending passengers clutched bags and +baskets; fathers of families gave a last eye to the +luggage; mothers grasped children firmly by the +hand; a distracted youth, seeking vainly for his +portmanteau, upset a stack of bicycles with a crash; +while above all the din and turmoil rose the strident, +rasping voice of a book-stall boy, crying his +selection of papers with ear-splitting zeal.</p> + +<p>From the windows of the in-coming express +waved seventeen agitated pocket-handkerchiefs, and +the signal was answered by a counter-display of +cambric from the twenty girls hustled back by an +inspector in the direction of the weighing-machine.</p> + +<p>"There's Helen!"</p> + +<p>"And Ruth, surely!"</p> + +<p>"Oh! where's Marjorie?"</p> + +<p>"There! Can't you see her, with Doris?"</p> + +<p>"That's Mamie, waving to me!"</p> + +<p>"What's become of Kathleen?"</p> + +<p>One moment more, and the neat school hats of +the new-comers had swelled the group of similar +school hats already collected on the platform; +ecstatic greetings were exchanged, urgent questions +asked and hasty answers given, and items +of choice information poured forth with the utmost +volubility of which the English tongue is capable. +Urged by brief directions from a mistress in charge, +the chattering crew surged towards a siding, and +made for a particular corridor carriage marked +"Reserved". Here handbags, umbrellas, wraps, +and lunch-baskets were hastily stowed away in the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span> +racks, and, Miss Moseley having assured herself +that not a single lamb of her flock was left behind, +the grinning porter slammed the doors, the green +flag waved, and the local train, long overdue, +started with a jerk for the Craigwen Valley.</p> + +<p>Past the grey old castle that looked seawards +over the estuary, past the little white town of +Llangarmon, with its ancient walls and fortified +gates, past the quay where the fishing smacks were +lying idly at anchor and a pleasure-steamer was +unloading its human cargo, past the long stretch +of sandy common, where the white tents of the +Territorials evoked an outcry of interest, then up +alongside the broad tidal river towards where the +mountains, faint and misty, rose shouldering one +another till they merged into the white nebulous +region of the cloud-flecked sky. Those lucky ones +who had secured window seats on the river side +of the carriage were loud in their acclamations of +satisfaction as familiar objects in the landscape +came into sight.</p> + +<p>"There's Cwm Dinas. I wish they could float +a big Union Jack on the summit."</p> + +<p>"It would be a landmark all right."</p> + +<p>"Oh, the flag's up at Plas Cafn!"</p> + +<p>"We'll have one at school this term?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I say! Move a scrap," pleaded Ulyth +Stanton plaintively. "We only get fields and +woods on our side. I can't see anything at all +for your heads. You might move. What selfish +pigs you are! Well, I don't care; I'm going to +talk."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span></p> + +<p>"You have been talking already. You've never +stopped, in fact," remarked Beth Broadway, proffering +a swiftly disappearing packet of pear drops +with a generosity born of the knowledge that all +sweets would be confiscated on arrival at The +Woodlands.</p> + +<p>"I know I have, but that was merely by the +way. It wasn't anything very particular, and I've +got something I want to tell you—something +fearfully important. Absolutely super! D'you +know, she's actually coming to school. Isn't it +great? She's to be my room-mate. I'm just +wild to see her. I hope her ship won't be stopped +by storms."</p> + +<p>"By the Muses, whom are you talking about?"</p> + +<p>"'She' means the cat," sniggered Gertrude +Oliver.</p> + +<p>"Why! can't you guess? What stupids you +are! It's Rona, of course—Rona Mitchell from +New Zealand."</p> + +<p>"You're ragging!"</p> + +<p>"It's a fact. It is indeed!"</p> + +<p>The incredulity on the countenances of her companions +having yielded to an expression of interest, +Ulyth continued her information with increased +zest, and a conscious though would-be nonchalant +air of importance.</p> + +<p>"Her father wants her to go to school in England, +so he decided to send her to The Woodlands, +so that she might be with me!"</p> + +<p>"Do you mean that girl you were so very +proud of corresponding with? I forget how the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span> +whole business began," broke in Stephanie Radford.</p> + +<p>"Don't you remember? It was through a magazine +we take. The editor arranged for readers +of the magazine in England to exchange letters +with other readers overseas. He gave me Rona. +We've been writing to each other every month for +two years."</p> + +<p>"I had an Australian, but she wouldn't write +regularly, so we dropped it," volunteered Beth +Broadway. "I believe Gertrude had somebody +too."</p> + +<p>"Yes, a girl in Canada. I never got farther +than one short letter and a picture post card, +though. I do so loathe writing," sighed Gertrude. +"Ulyth's the only one who's kept the thing up."</p> + +<p>"And do you mean to say this New Zealander's +actually coming to our school?" asked Stephanie.</p> + +<p>"That's the joysome gist of my remarks! I +can't tell you how I'm pining and yearning to see +her. She seems like a girl out of a story. To think +of it! Rona Mitchell at school with us!"</p> + +<p>"Suppose you don't like her?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I'm certain I shall! She's written me the +jolliest, loveliest, funniest letters! I feel I know +her already. We shall be the very best of friends. +Her father has a huge farm of I can't tell you +how many miles, and she has two horses of her +own, and fords rivers when she's out riding."</p> + +<p>"When's she to arrive?"</p> + +<p>"Probably to-morrow. She's travelling by the +<i>King George</i>, and coming up straight from London<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span> +to school directly she lands. I hope she's got to +England safely. She must have left home ever +such a long time ago. How fearfully exciting for +her to——"</p> + +<p>But here Ulyth's reflections were brought to an +abrupt close, for the train was approaching Glanafon +Ferry, and her comrades, busily collecting +their various handbags, would lend no further ear +to her remarks.</p> + +<p>The little wayside station, erstwhile the quietest +and sleepiest on the line, was soon overflowing with +girls and their belongings. Miss Moseley flitted +up and down the platform, marshalling her charges +like a faithful collie, the one porter did his slow +best, and after a few agitated returns to the compartments +for forgotten articles, everything was +successfully collected, and the train went steaming +away down the valley in the direction of Craigwen. +It seemed to take the last link of civilization with +it, and to leave only the pure, unsullied country +behind. The girls crossed the line and walked +through the white station gate with pleased anticipation +writ large on their faces. It was the cult at +The Woodlands to idolize nature and the picturesque, +and they had reached a part of their journey +which was a particular source of pride to the school.</p> + +<p>Any admirer of scenery would have been struck +with the lovely and romantic view which burst +upon the eye as the travellers left the platform at +Glanafon and walked down the short, grassy road +that led to the ferry. To the south stretched the +wide pool of the river, blue as the heaven above<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span> +where it caught the reflection of the September +sky, but dark and mysterious where it mirrored +the thick woods that shaded its banks. Near at +hand towered the tall, heather-crowned crag of +Cwm Dinas, while the rugged peaks of Penllwyd +and Penglaslyn frowned in majesty of clouds beyond. +The ferry itself was one of those delightful +survivals of mediævalism which linger here and +there in a few fortunate corners of our isles. A +large flat-bottomed boat was slung on chains which +spanned the river, and could be worked slowly +across the water by means of a small windlass. +Though it was perfectly possible, and often even +more convenient, to drive to the school direct from +Llangarmon Junction, so great was the popular +feeling in favour of arrival by the ferry that at the +autumn and spring reunions the girls were allowed +to avail themselves of the branch railway and approach +The Woodlands by way of the river.</p> + +<p>They now hurried on to the boat as if anticipating +a pleasure-jaunt. The capacities of the flat +were designed to accommodate a flock of sheep or +a farm wagon and horses, so there was room and +to spare even for thirty-seven girls and their hand +luggage. Evan Davis, the crusty old ferryman, +greeted them with his usual inarticulate grunt, a +kind of "Oh, here you are again, are you!" form +of welcome which was more forceful than gracious. +He linked the protecting chains carefully across +the end of the boat, called out a remark in Welsh +to his son, Griffith, and, seizing the handle, began +to work the windlass. Very slowly and leisurely<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span> +the flat swung out into the river. The tide was +at the full and the wide expanse of water seemed +like a lake. The clanking chains brought up +bunches of seaweed and river grass which fell with +an oozy thud upon the deck. The mountain air, +blowing straight from Penllwyd, was tinged with +ozone from the tide. The girls stood looking up +the reach of water towards the hills, and tasting +the salt on their lips with supreme gratification. +It was not every school that assembled by such a +romantic means of conveyance as an ancient flat-bottomed +ferry-boat, and they rejoiced over their +privileges.</p> + +<p>"I'm glad the tide's full; it makes the crossing +so much wider," murmured Helen Cooper, with an +eye of admiration on the woods.</p> + +<p>"Don't suppose Evan shares your enthusiasm," +laughed Marjorie Earnshaw. "He's paid the same, +whatever the length of the journey."</p> + +<p>"Old Grumps gets half a crown for his job, so +he needn't grumble," put in Doris Deane.</p> + +<p>"Oh, trust him! He'd look sour at a pound note."</p> + +<p>"What makes him so cross?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, he's old and lame, I suppose, and has a +crotchety temper."</p> + +<p>"Here we are at last!"</p> + +<p>The boat was grating on the shore. Griffith was +unfastening the movable end, and in another moment +the girls were springing out gingerly, one +by one, on to the decidedly muddy stepping-stones +that formed a rough causeway to the bank. A cart +was waiting to convey the handbags (all boxes had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span> +been sent as "advance luggage" two days before), +so, disencumbered of their numerous possessions, +the girls started to walk the steep uphill mile that +led to The Woodlands.</p> + +<p>Miss Bowes and Miss Teddington, the partners +who owned the school, had been exceptionally fortunate +in their choice of a house. If, as runs the +modern theory, beautiful surroundings in our early +youth are of the utmost importance in training our +perceptions and aiding the growth of our higher +selves, then surely nowhere in the British Isles +could a more suitable setting have been found for +a home of education. The long terrace commanded +a view of the whole of the Craigwen Valley, an +expanse of about sixteen miles. The river, like a +silver ribbon, wound through woods and marshland +till it widened into a broad tidal estuary as +it neared the sea. The mountains, which rose tier +after tier from the level green meadows, had their +lower slopes thickly clothed with pines and larches; +but where they towered above the level of a thousand +feet the forest growth gave way to gorse and +bracken, and their jagged summits, bare of all +vegetation save a few clumps of coarse grass, +showed a splintered, weather-worn outline against +the sky. Penllwyd, Penglaslyn, and Glyder Garmon, +those lofty peaks like three strong Welsh +giants, seemed to guard the entrance to the enchanted +valley, and to keep it a place apart, a last +fortress of nature, a sanctuary for birds and flowers, +a paradise of green shade and leaping waters, and +a breathing-space for body and soul.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span></p> + +<p>The house, named "The Woodlands" by Miss +Bowes in place of its older but rather unpronounceable +name of Llwyngwrydd (the green grove), +took both its Welsh and English appellations from +a beautiful glade, planted with oaks, which formed +the southern boundary of the property. Through +this park-like dell flowed a mountain stream, tumbling +in little white cascades between the big +boulders that formed its bed, and pouring in quite +a waterfall over a ledge of rock into a wide pool. +Its steady rippling murmur never stopped, and +could be heard day and night through the ever-open +windows, gentle and subdued in dry weather, +but rising to a roar when rain in the hills brought +the flood down in a turbulent torrent.</p> + +<p>Through lessons, play, or dreams this sound of +many waters was ever present; it gave an atmosphere +to the school which, if passed unnoticed +through extreme familiarity, would have been instantly +missed if it could have stopped. To the +girls this stream was a kind of guardian deity, with +the glade for its sacred grove. They loved every +rock and stone and cataract, almost every patch of +brown moss upon its boulders. Each morning of +the summer term they bathed before breakfast in +the pool where a big oak-tree shaded the cataract. +It was so close to the house that they could run out +in mackintoshes, and so retired that it resembled +a private swimming-bath. Here they enjoyed +themselves like water-nymphs, splashing in the +shallows, plunging in the pool, swinging from the +boughs of the oak-tree, and scrambling over the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span> +lichened boulders. It was a source of deep regret +to the hardier spirits that they were not allowed to +take their morning dip in the stream all the year +round; but on that score mistresses were adamant, +and with the close of September the naiads perforce +withdrew from their favourite element till it +was warmed again by the May sunshine.</p> + +<p>The house itself had originally been an ancient +Welsh dwelling of the days of the Tudors, but had +been largely added to in later times. The straight +front, with its rows of windows, classic doorway, +and stone-balustraded terrace, was certainly Georgian +in type, and the tower, an architectural eyesore, +was plainly Victorian. The taste of the early +nineteenth century had not been faultless, and all +the best part of the building, from an artistic point +of view, lay at the back. This mainly consisted of +kitchens and servants' quarters, but there still remained +a large hall, which was the chief glory of +the establishment. It was very lofty, for in common +with other specimens of the period it had no upper +story, the roof being timbered like that of a church. +The walls were panelled with oak to a height of +about eight feet, and above that were decorated +with elaborate designs in plaster relief, representing +lions, wild boars, stags, unicorns, and other +heraldic devices from the coat-of-arms of the original +owner of the estate. A narrow winding staircase +led to a minstrels' gallery, from which was suspended +a wooden shield emblazoned with the Welsh +dragon and the national motto, "Cymru am byth" +("Wales for ever").<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span></p> + +<p>If the hall was the main picturesque asset of the +building, it must be admitted that the unromantic +front portion was highly convenient, and had been +most readily adaptable for a school. The large +light rooms of the ground floor made excellent +classrooms, and the upper story was so lavishly +provided with windows that it had been possible, +by means of wooden partitions, to turn the great +bedrooms into rows of small dormitories, each +capable of accommodating two girls.</p> + +<p>The bright airy house, the terrace with its glorious +view of the valley, the large old-fashioned garden, +and, above all, the stream and the glade made a +very pleasant setting for the school life of the forty-eight +pupils at The Woodlands. The two principals +worked together in perfect harmony. Each had +her own department. Miss Bowes, who was short, +stout, grey-haired, and motherly, looked after the +housekeeping, the hygiene, and the business side. +She wrote letters to parents, kept the accounts, +interviewed tradespeople, superintended the mending, +and was the final referee in all matters pertaining +to health and general conduct. "Dear Old +Rainbow", as the girls nicknamed her, was frankly +popular, for she was sympathetic and usually disposed +to listen, in reason, to the various plaints +which were brought to the sanctum of her private +sitting-room. Her authority alone could excuse +preparation, order breakfast in bed, remit practising, +dispense jujubes, allow special festivities, and +grant half-holidays. It was rumoured that she +thought of retiring and leaving the school to her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span> +partner, and such a report always drew from parents +the opinion that she would be greatly missed.</p> + +<p>Miss Teddington, younger by many years, took +a more active part in the teaching, and superintended +the games and outdoor sports. She was +tall and athletic, a good mathematician, and interested +in archæology and nature study. She led +the walks and rambles, taught the Sixth Form, and +represented the more scholastic and modern element. +Her enterprise initiated all fresh undertakings, and +her enthusiasm carried them forward with success. +"Hard-as-nails" the girls sometimes called her, for +she coddled nobody and expected the utmost from +each one's capacity. If she was rather uncompromising, +however, she was just, and a strong +vein of humour toned down much of the severity +of her remarks. To be chided by a person whose +eye is capable of twinkling takes part of the sting +from the reprimand, and the general verdict of the +school was to the effect that "Teddie was a keen +old watch-dog, but her bark was worse than her +bite."</p> + +<p>Of the other mistresses and girls we will say more +anon. Having introduced my readers to The Woodlands, +it is time for the story to begin.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em"> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_II" id="CHAPTER_II"></a><a href="#TOC_II">CHAPTER II</a></h2> + +<h3>A Friend from the Bush</h3> +</div> + +<p>Ulyth Stanton was a decided personality in the +Lower Fifth. If not exactly pretty, she was a dainty +little damsel, and knew how to make the best of herself. +Her fair hair was glossy and waved in the most +becoming fashion, her clothes were well cut, her +gloves and shoes immaculate. She had an artistic +temperament, and loved to be surrounded by pretty +things. She was rather a favourite at The Woodlands, +for she had few sharp angles and possessed +a fair share of tact. If the girls laughed sometimes +at what they called her "high-falutin' notions" +they nevertheless respected her opinions and admired +her more than they always chose to admit. +It was an accepted fact that Ulyth stuck to her word +and generally carried through anything that she once +undertook. She alone of six members of her form +who had begun to correspond with girls abroad, at +the instigation of the magazine editor, had written +regularly, and had cultivated the overseas friendship +with enthusiasm. The element of romance +about the affair had appealed to Ulyth. It was +so strange to receive letters from someone you had +never seen. To be sure, Rona had only given a +somewhat bald account of her home and her doings,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span> +but even this outline was so different from English +life that Ulyth's imagination filled the gaps, and +pictured her unknown correspondent among scenes +of unrivalled interest and excitement. Ulyth had +once seen a most wonderful film entitled "Rose +of the Wilderness", and though the scenes depicted +were supposed to be in the region of the Wild +West, she decided that they would equally well +represent the backwoods of New Zealand, and +that the beautiful, dashing, daring heroine, so +aptly called "the Prairie Flower", was probably +a speaking likeness of Rona Mitchell. When she +learnt that owing to her letters Rona's father had +determined to send his daughter to school at The +Woodlands, her excitement was immense. She +had at once petitioned Miss Bowes to have her as a +room-mate, and was now awaiting her advent with +the very keenest anticipation.</p> + +<p>There was a little uncertainty about the time of +the new girl's arrival, for it depended upon the +punctuality of the ocean liner, a doubtful matter if +there were a storm; and the feeling that she might +be expected any hour between 9 a.m. and 4 p.m. +made havoc of Ulyth's day. It was impossible to +attend to lessons when she was listening for the +sound of a taxi on the drive, and even the attractions +of tennis could not decoy her out of sight of the +front door.</p> + +<p>"I must be the very first to welcome her," she +persisted. "Of course it's not the same to all the +rest of you—I understand that. She's to be my +special property, my Prairie Rose!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span></p> + +<p>"All serene! If you care to waste your time +lounging about the steps you can. We're not in +such a frantic state to see your paragon," laughed +the girls as they ran down the garden to the courts. +After all, the waiting was in vain. Tea-time came +without a sign of the new-comer. It was unlikely +that she would turn up now until the evening train, +and Ulyth resigned herself to the inevitable. But +when the school was almost half-way through its +bread and butter and gooseberry jam, a sudden +commotion occurred in the hall. There was a noise +such as nobody ever remembered to have heard at +The Woodlands before.</p> + +<p>"Thank goodness gracious I've got meself here +at last!" cried a loud nasal voice. "Where'll I +stick these things? Oh yes, there's heaps more +inside that automobile! Travelling's no joke, I +can tell you; I'm tired to death. Any tea about? +I could drink the sea. My gracious, I've had a +time of it coming here!"</p> + +<p>At the first word Miss Bowes had glided from +the room, and the voice died away as the door of +her private study closed. Sounds suggestive of the +carrying upstairs of luggage followed, and a hinnying +laugh echoed once down the stairs. The girls +looked at one another; there was a shadow in +Ulyth's eyes. She did not share in the general +smile that passed round the table, and she finished +her tea in dead silence.</p> + +<p>"Going to sample your new property?" whispered +Mary Acton as the girls pushed back their +chairs.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span></p> + +<p>"What's the formula for swearing an undying +friendship?" giggled Addie Knighton.</p> + +<p>"Was it Rose of Sharon you called her?" +twinkled Christine Crosswood. "Or Lily of the +Valley?"</p> + +<p>Ulyth did not reply. She walked upstairs very +slowly. The nasal twang of that high-pitched +voice in the hall had wiped the bloom off her +anticipation. The small double dormitory in which +she slept was No. 3, Room 5. The door was half-open, +so she entered without knocking. Both beds, +the chairs, and most of the floor was strewn with an +assortment of miscellaneous articles. On the dressing-table +was a tray with the remains of tea. Over +a large cabin trunk bent a girl of fourteen. She +straightened herself as she heard footsteps.</p> + +<p>Alas! alas! for Ulyth's illusions. The enchanting +vision of the prairie flower faded, and Rona +Mitchell stood before her in solid fact. Solid was +the word for it—no fascinating cinema heroine this, +but an ordinary, well-grown, decidedly plump +damsel with brown elf locks, a ruddy sunburnt +complexion, and a freckled nose.</p> + +<p>Where, oh, where, were the delicate features, +the fairy-like figure, and the long rich clustering +curls of Rose of the Wilderness? Ulyth stood for +a moment gazing as one dazed; then, with an effort, +she remembered her manners and introduced herself.</p> + +<p>"Proud to meet you at last," replied the new-comer +heartily. "You and I've had a friendship +switched on for us ready-made, so to speak. I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span> +liked your letters awfully. Glad they've put us in +together."</p> + +<p>"Did—did you have a nice journey?" stammered +Ulyth.</p> + +<p>It was a most conventional enquiry, but the only +thing she could think of to say.</p> + +<p>"Beastly! It was rough or hot all the time, and +we didn't get much fun on board. Wasn't it a sell? +Too disappointing for words! Mrs. Perkins, the +lady who had charge of me coming over, was just +a Tartar. Nothing I did seemed to suit her somehow. +I bet she was glad to see the last of me. +Then I was sea-sick, and when we got into the +hot zone—my, how bad I was! My face was just +skinned with sunburn, and the salt air made it +worse. I'd not go to sea again for pleasure, I can +tell you. I say, I'll be glad to get my things fixed +up here."</p> + +<p>"This is your bed and your side of the room," +returned Ulyth hastily, collecting some of the articles +which had been flung anywhere, and hanging them +in Rona's wardrobe; "Miss Moseley makes us be +very tidy. She'll be coming round this evening to +inspect."</p> + +<p>Rona whistled.</p> + +<p>"Guess she'll drop on me pretty often then! +No one's ever called neatness my strong point. +Are those photos on the mantelpiece your home +folks? I'm going to look at them. What a lot of +things you've got: books, and albums, and goodness +knows what! I'll enjoy turning them over +when I've time."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span></p> + +<p>At half-past eight that night a few members of +the Lower Fifth, putting away books in their classroom, +stopped to compare notes.</p> + +<p>"Well, what do you think of your adorable one, +Ulyth?" asked Stephanie Radford, a little spitefully. +"You're welcome to her company so far as +I'm concerned."</p> + +<p>"Rose of the Wilderness, indeed!" mocked +Merle Denham.</p> + +<p>"Your prairie rose is nothing but a dandelion!" +remarked Christine Crosswood.</p> + +<p>"I never heard anyone with such an awful laugh," +said Lizzie Lonsdale.</p> + +<p>"Don't!" implored Ulyth tragically. "I've had +the shock of my life. She's—oh, she's too terrible +for words! Her voice makes me cringe. And she +pawed all my things. She snatched up my photos, +and turned over my books with sticky fingers; she +even opened my drawers and peeped inside."</p> + +<p>"What cheek!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, she hasn't the slightest idea of how to behave +herself! She asked me a whole string of the +most impertinent questions: what I'd paid for my +clothes, and how long they'd have to last me. She's +unbearable. Yes, absolutely impossible. Ugh! +and I've got to sleep in the same room with her +to-night."</p> + +<p>"Poor martyr, it's hard luck," sympathized +Lizzie. "Why did you write and ask the Rainbow +to put you together? It was rather buying a +pig in a poke, wasn't it?"</p> + +<p>"I never dreamt she'd be like this. It sounded<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span> +so romantic, you see, living on a huge farm, and +having two horses to ride. I shall go to Miss +Bowes, first thing to-morrow morning, and ask to +have her moved out of my room. I only wish there +was time to do it this evening. Oh, why did I +ever write to her and make her want to come to this +school?"</p> + +<p>"Poor old Ulyth! You've certainly let yourself +in for more than you bargained for," laughed the +girls, half sorry for her and half amused.</p> + +<p>Next morning, after breakfast, the very instant +that Miss Bowes was installed in her study, a "rap-tap-tap" +sounded on her door.</p> + +<p>"Come in!" she called, and sighed as Ulyth +entered, for she had a shrewd suspicion of what she +was about to hear.</p> + +<p>"Please, Miss Bowes, I'm sorry to have to ask +a favour, but may Rona be changed into another +dormitory?"</p> + +<p>"Why, Ulyth, you wrote to me specially and +asked if you might have her for a room-mate!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I did; but I hadn't seen her then. I +thought she'd be so different."</p> + +<p>"Isn't it a little too soon to judge? You haven't +known her twenty-four hours yet."</p> + +<p>"I know as much of her as I ever want to. Oh, +Miss Bowes, she's dreadful! I'll never like her. +I can't have her in my room—I simply can't!"</p> + +<p>There was a shake, suggestive of tears, in Ulyth's +voice. Her eyes looked heavy, as if she had not +slept. Miss Bowes sighed again.</p> + +<p>"Rona mayn't be exactly what you imagined,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span> +but you must remember in what different circumstances +she has been brought up. I think she has +many good qualities, and that she'll soon improve. +Now let us look at the matter from her point of +view. You have been writing to her constantly for +two years. She has come here specially to be near +you. You are her only friend in a new and strange +country where she is many thousand miles away +from her own home. You gave her a cordial invitation +to England, and now, because she does not +happen to realize your quite unfounded expectations, +you want to back out of all your obligations to her. +I thought you were a girl, Ulyth, who kept her +promises."</p> + +<p>Ulyth fingered the corner of the tablecloth nervously +for a moment, then she burst out:</p> + +<p>"I can't, Miss Bowes, I simply can't. If you +knew how she grates upon me! Oh, it's too much! +I'd rather have a bear cub or a monkey for a room-mate! +Please, please don't make us stop together! +If you won't move her, move me! I'd sleep in an +attic if I could have it to myself."</p> + +<p>"You must stay where you are until the end of +the week. You owe that to Rona, at any rate. +Afterwards I shall not force you, but leave it to +your own good feeling. I want you to think over +what I have been saying. You can come on +Sunday morning and tell me your decision."</p> + +<p>"I know what the answer will be," murmured +Ulyth, as she went from the room.</p> + +<p>She was very angry with Miss Bowes, with +Rona, and with herself for her own folly.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span></p> + +<p>"It's ridiculous to expect me to take up this +savage," she argued. "And too bad of Miss +Bowes to make out that I'm breaking my word. +Oh dear! what am I to write home to Mother? +How can I tell her? I believe I'll just send her a +picture post card, and only say Rona has come, and +no more. Miss Bowes has no right to coerce me. +I'll make my own friends. No, I've quite made up +my mind she shan't cram Rona down my throat. +To have that awful girl eternally in my bedroom—I +should die!"</p> + +<p>After all her heroics it was a terrible come-down +for poor Ulyth now the actual had taken the place +of the sentimental. Her class-mates could not forbear +teasing her a little. It was too bad of them; +but then they had resented her entire pre-appropriation +of the new-comer, and, moreover, had one or +two old scores from last term to pay off. Ulyth +began to detest the very name of "the Prairie +Flower". She wondered how she could ever have +been so silly.</p> + +<p>"I ought to have been warned," she thought, +trying to throw the blame on to somebody else. +"No one ever suggested she'd be like this. The +editor of the magazine really shouldn't have persuaded +us to write. It's all his fault in the beginning."</p> + +<p>Though the rest of the girls were scarcely impressed +with Rona's personality, they were not +utterly repelled.</p> + +<p>"She's rather pretty," ventured Lizzie Lonsdale. +"Her eyes are the bluest I've ever seen."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span></p> + +<p>"And her teeth are so white and even," added +Beth Broadway. "She looks jolly when she +smiles."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps she'll smarten up soon," suggested +Addie Knighton. "That blue dress suits her; it +just matches her eyes."</p> + +<p>To Ulyth's fastidious taste Rona's clothes looked +hopelessly ill-cut and colonial, especially as her +room-mate put them on anyhow, and seemed to +have no regard at all for appearances. A girl +who did not mind whether she looked really trim, +spruce and smart, must indeed have spent her life +in the backwoods.</p> + +<p>"Didn't you even have a governess in New Zealand?" +she ventured one day. She did not encourage +Rona to talk, but for once her curiosity +overcame her dislike of the high-pitched voice.</p> + +<p>"Couldn't get one to stop up-country, where we +were. Mrs. Barker, our cowman's wife, looked +after me ever since Mother died. She was the only +woman about the place. One of our farm helps +taught me lessons. He was a B.A. of Oxford, but +down on his luck. Dad said I'd seem queer to +English girls. I don't know that I care."</p> + +<p>Though Rona might not be possessed of the +most delicate perceptions, she nevertheless had +common sense enough to realize that Ulyth did +not receive her with enthusiasm.</p> + +<p>"I suppose you're disappointed in me?" she +queried. "Dad said you would be, but I laughed +at him. Pity if our ready-made friendship turned +out a misfit! I think you're no end! Dad said I'd<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span> +got to copy you; it'll take me all my time, I expect. +Things are so different here from home."</p> + +<p>Was there a suspicion of a choke in the words?</p> + +<p>Ulyth had a sudden pang of compunction. Unwelcome +as her companion was to her, she did not +wish to be brutal.</p> + +<p>"You mustn't get home-sick," she said hastily. +"You'll shake down here in time. Everyone finds +things strange at school just at first. I did myself."</p> + +<p>"I guess you were never as much a fish out of +water as me, though," returned Rona, and went +whistling down the passage.</p> + +<p>Ulyth tried to dismiss her from her thoughts. +She did not intend to worry over Rona more than +she could possibly help. Fortunately they were +not together in class, for Rona's entrance-examination +papers had not reached the standard of the +Lower Fifth, and she had been placed in IV <span class="smcap">b</span>.</p> + +<p>Ulyth was interested in her school-work. She +stood well with her teachers, and was an acknowledged +force in her form. She came from a very +refined and cultured home, where intellectual interests +were cultivated both by father and mother. +Her temperament was naturally artistic; she was +an omnivorous reader, and could devour anything +in the shape of literature that came her way. The +bookcase in her dormitory was filled with beautiful +volumes, mostly Christmas and birthday gifts. +She rejoiced in their soft leather bindings or fine +illustrations with a true book-lover's enthusiasm. +It was her pride to keep them in daintiest condition. +Dog-ears or thumb-marks were in her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span> +opinion the depths of degradation. Ulyth had +ambitions also, ambitions which she would not +reveal to anybody. Some day she planned to write +a book of her own. She had not yet fixed on a +subject, but she had decided just what the cover +was to be like, with her name on it in gilt letters. +Perhaps she might even illustrate it herself, for her +love of art almost equalled her love of literature; +but that was still in the clouds, and must wait till +she had chosen her plot. In the interim she wrote +verses and short stories for the school magazine, +and her essays for Miss Teddington were generally +returned marked "highly creditable".</p> + +<p>This term Ulyth intended to study hard. It was +a promotion to be in the Upper School; she was +beginning several new subjects, and her interest in +many things was aroused. It would be a delightful +autumn as soon as she had got rid of this dreadful +problem, at present the one serious obstacle to her +comfort. But in the meantime it was only Friday, +and till at least the following Monday she would be +obliged to endure her uncongenial presence in her +bedroom.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em"> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_III" id="CHAPTER_III"></a><a href="#TOC_III">CHAPTER III</a></h2> + +<h3>Round the Camp-fire</h3> +</div> + +<p>It was the first Saturday of the term. So far the +girls had been kept busily occupied settling down +to work in their fresh forms, and trying to grow +accustomed to Miss Teddington's new time-tables. +Now, however, they were free to relax and enjoy +themselves in any way they chose. Some were +playing tennis, some had gone for a walk with +Miss Moseley, a few were squatting frog-like on +boulders in the midst of the stream, and others +strolled under the trees in the grove.</p> + +<p>"Thank goodness the weather's behaving itself!" +said Mary Acton, who, with a few other members +of the Lower Fifth, was sitting on the trunk of a +fallen oak. "Do you remember last council? It +simply poured. The thing's no fun if one can't +have a real fire."</p> + +<p>"It'll burn first-rate to-night," returned Lizzie +Lonsdale. "There's a little wind, and the wood'll +be dry."</p> + +<p>"That reminds me I haven't found my faggot +yet," said Beth Broadway easily.</p> + +<p>"Girl alive! Then you'd better go and look for +one, or you'll be all in a scramble at the last!"</p> + +<p>"Bother! I'm too comfy to move."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Nice Wood-gatherer you'll look if you come +empty-handed!"</p> + +<p>"I'd appropriate half your lot first, Lizzikins!"</p> + +<p>"Would you, indeed? I'd denounce you, and +you'd lose your rank and be degraded to a candidate +again."</p> + +<p>"Oh, you mean, stingy miser!"</p> + +<p>"Not at all. It's the wise and foolish virgins +over again. I shan't have enough for myself and +you. I've a lovely little stack—just enough for +one—reposing—no, I'd better not tell you where. +Don't look so hopeful. You're not to be trusted."</p> + +<p>"What are you talking about?" asked Rona +Mitchell, who had wandered up to the group. +"Why are some of you picking up sticks? I saw +a girl over there with quite a bundle just now. +You might tell me."</p> + +<p>So far Rona had not been well received in her +own form, IV <span class="smcap">b</span>. She was older than her class-mates, +and they, instead of attempting to initiate +her into the ways of the Woodlands girls on this +holiday afternoon, had scuttled off and left her to +fend for herself. She looked such an odd, wistful, +lonely figure that Lizzie Lonsdale's kind heart smote +her. She pushed the other girls farther along the +tree-trunk till they made a grudging space for the +new-comer.</p> + +<p>"I'm a good hand at camp-fires, if you want +any help," continued Rona, seating herself with +alacrity. "I've made 'em by the dozen at home, +and cooked by them too. Just let me know where +you want it, and I'll set to work."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span></p> + +<p>"You wouldn't be allowed," said Beth bluntly. +"This fire is a very special thing. Only Wood-gatherers +may bring the fuel. No one else is +eligible."</p> + +<p>"Why on earth not?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I can't bother to explain now! It would +take too long. You'll find out to-night. Girls, +I'm going in!"</p> + +<p>"Turn up here at dusk if you want to know, and +bring a cup with you," suggested Lizzie, with a +half-ashamed effort at friendliness, as she followed +her chums.</p> + +<p>"You bet I'll turn up! Rather!"</p> + +<p>That evening, just after sunset, little groups of +girls began to collect round an open green space +in the glade. They came quietly and with a certain +sense of discipline. A stranger would have noticed +that if any loud tone or undue hilarity made itself +heard, it was instantly and firmly repressed by one +or two who seemed in authority. That the meeting +was more in the nature of a convention than a +mere pleasure-gathering was evident both from +the demeanour of the assemblage and from the +various badges pinned on the girls' coats. No +teacher was present, but there was an air of general +expectancy, as if the coming of somebody were +awaited. To the pupils at The Woodlands this +night's ceremony was a very special occasion, for +it was the autumn reunion of the Camp-fire +League, an organization which, originally of +American birth, had been introduced at the instigation +of Miss Teddington, and had taken great<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span> +root in the school. Any girl was eligible as a +candidate, but before she could gain admission to +even the initial rank she had to prove herself +worthy of the honour of membership, and pass +successfully through her novitiate.</p> + +<p>The organizer and leader of the branch which +to-night was to celebrate its third anniversary was +a certain Mrs. Arnold, a charming young American +lady who lived in the neighbourhood. She +had been an enthusiastic supporter of the League +in Pennsylvania before her marriage, and was delighted +to pass on its traditions to British schoolgirls. +Her winsome personality made her a prime +favourite at The Woodlands, where her influence +was stronger even than she imagined. Miss Teddington, +though it was she who had asked Mrs. +Arnold to institute and take charge of the meetings, +had the discretion to keep out of the League herself, +realizing that the presence of teachers might +be a restraint, and that the management was better +left in the hands of a trustworthy outsider.</p> + +<p>To become an authorized Camp-fire member was +an ambition with most of the girls, and spurred +many on to greater efforts than they would otherwise +have attempted. All looked forward to the +meetings, and there could be no greater punishment +for certain offences than a temporary withdrawal +of League privileges.</p> + +<p>This September, after the long summer holiday, +the reunion seemed of even more than ordinary +importance.</p> + +<p>The sun had set, the last gleam of the afterglow<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span> +had faded, and the glade had grown full of dim +shadows by the time everybody was present in +the grove. The gentle rustle of the leafy boughs +overhead, and the persistent tumbling rush of the +stream, seemed like a faint orchestral accompaniment +of Nature for the ceremonial.</p> + +<p>"Is it a Quakers' Meeting or a Freemasons' +Lodge? You're all very mum," asked Rona, whom +curiosity had led out with the others.</p> + +<p>"Sh-sh! We're waiting for our 'Guardian of +the Fire'," returned Ulyth, trying to suppress the +loudness of the high-pitched voice. "Mrs. Arnold's +generally very punctual. Oh, there! I believe I +hear her ringing her bicycle bell now. I'm going +down the field to meet her."</p> + +<p>Ulyth regarded Mrs. Arnold with that intense +adoration which a girl of fifteen often bestows on +a woman older than herself. She ran now through +the wood, hoping she might be in time to catch +her idol on the drive and have just a few precious +moments with her before she was joined by the +others. There were many things she wanted to +pour into her friend's ready ears, but she knew it +would be impossible to monopolize her as soon as +the rest of the girls knew of her arrival. She fled +as on wings, therefore, and had the supreme satisfaction +of being the first in the field. Mrs. Arnold, +young, very fair, graceful, and golden-haired, +looked a picture in her blue cycling costume as +she leaned her machine against a tree and greeted +her enthusiastic admirer.</p> + +<p>"Oh, you darling! I've such heaps to tell you!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span> +began Ulyth, clasping her tightly by the arm. +"Rona Mitchell has come, and she's the most +awful creature! I never was so disappointed in +my life. Don't you sympathize with me, when I +expected her to be so ripping? She's absolute +backwoods!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I've heard all about her. Poor child! +She must have had a strange training. It's time +indeed she began to learn something."</p> + +<p>"She's not learned anything in New Zealand. +Oh, her voice will just grate on you! And her +manners! She's hopeless! Everything she does +and says is wrong. And to think she's been +foisted on to me, of all people!"</p> + +<p>"Poor child!" repeated Mrs. Arnold. ("Which +of us does she mean?" thought Ulyth.) "She's +evidently raw material. Every diamond needs +polishing. What an opportunity for a Torch-bearer!"</p> + +<p>Ulyth dropped her friend's arm suddenly. It +was not at all the answer she had expected. Moreover, +at least a dozen girls had come running up +and were claiming their chief's attention. In a +species of triumphant procession Mrs. Arnold was +escorted into the glade and installed on her throne +of state, a seat made of logs and decorated with +ferns. Everyone clustered round to welcome her, +and for the moment she was the centre of an enthusiastic +crowd. Ulyth followed more slowly. She +was feeling disturbed and put out. What did Mrs. +Arnold mean? Surely not——? A sudden thought +had flashed into her mind but she thrust it away<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span> +indignantly. Oh no, that was quite impossible! +It was outrageous of anybody to make the suggestion. +And yet—and yet—the uneasy voice that +had been haunting her for the last four days began +to speak with even more vehemence. With a sigh +of relief she heard the signal given for "Attention", +and cast the matter away from her for the +moment. Every eye was fixed on their leader. +The ceremony was about to begin.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Arnold rose, and in her clear, sweet voice +proclaimed:</p> + +<p>"The Guardian of the Fire calls on the Wood-gatherers +to bring their fuel."</p> + +<p>At once a dozen girls came forward, each dragging +a tolerably large bundle of brushwood. They +deposited these in a circle, saluted, and retired.</p> + +<p>"Fire-makers, do your work!" commanded the +leader.</p> + +<p>Eight girls responded, Ulyth among the number, +and seizing the brushwood, they built it deftly into +a pile. All stood round, waiting in silence while +their chief struck a match and applied a light to +some dried leaves and bracken that had been placed +beneath. The flame rose up like a scarlet ribbon, +and in a few moments the dry fuel was ablaze and +crackling. The gleam lighting up the glade displayed +a picturesque scene. The boles of the trees +might have been the pillars in some ancient temple, +with the branches for roof. Close by the cascade +of the stream leapt white against a background of +dim darkness. The harvest moon, full and golden, +was rising behind the crest of Cwm Dinas. An owl<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span> +flew hooting from the wood higher up the glen. +Mrs. Arnold stood waiting until the bonfire was +well alight, then she turned to the expectant girls.</p> + +<p>"I've no need to tell most of you why we have +met here to-night; but for the benefit of a few who +are new-comers to The Woodlands I should like +briefly to explain the objects of the Camp-fire +League. The purpose of the organization is to +show that the common things of daily life are the +chief means of beauty, romance, and adventure, to +cultivate the outdoor habit, and to help girls to +serve the community—the larger home—as well as +the individual home. In these ultra-modern times +we must especially devote ourselves to the service +of the country, and try by every means in our +power to make our League of some national use. +First let us repeat together the rules of the Camp-fire +League:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"'1. Seek beauty.</span><br /> +<span class="i0">2. Give service.</span><br /> +<span class="i0">3. Pursue knowledge.</span><br /> +<span class="i0">4. Be trustworthy.</span><br /> +<span class="i0">5. Hold on to health.</span><br /> +<span class="i0">6. Glorify work.</span><br /> +<span class="i0">7. Be happy.'</span><br /> +</div></div> + +<p>"Seeking beauty includes more than looking for +superficial adornment. Beauty is in all life, in +Nature, in people, in the love of one's heart, in +virtue and a radiant disposition. The value of +service depends largely upon the attitude of mind +of the one rendering it. Joy in the performance of +some needed service in behalf of parent, teacher,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span> +friend, or country constitutes a part of the very +essence of goodness, and multiplies the good +already abiding in the heart. This is the third +anniversary of the founding of a branch of the +League at The Woodlands. So far the work has +been very encouraging, and I am glad to say that +to-night we have candidates eligible for all three +ranks. It shall now be the business of the meeting +formally to admit them. Candidates for Wood-gatherers, +present yourselves!"</p> + +<p>Six of the younger girls came forward and +saluted.</p> + +<p>"Can you repeat, and will you promise to obey, +the seven rules of the Camp-fire law?"</p> + +<p>Each responded audibly in the affirmative.</p> + +<p>"Then you are admitted to the initial rank of +Wood-gatherers, you are awarded the white badge +of service, and may sign your names as accepted +members of the League."</p> + +<p>The six retired to make way for a higher grade, +and eight other girls stepped into the firelight.</p> + +<p>"Candidates for Fire-makers, you have passed +three months with good characters as Wood-gatherers, +and you have proved your ability to +render first aid, keep accounts, tie knots, and prepare +and serve a simple meal; you have each committed +to memory some good poem, and have +acquainted yourself with the career of some able, +public-spirited woman. Having thus shown your +wish to serve the community, repeat the Fire-maker's +desire."</p> + +<p>And all together the eight girls chanted:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"As fuel is brought to the fire</span><br /> +<span class="i0">So I purpose to bring</span><br /> +<span class="i0">My strength,</span><br /> +<span class="i0">My ambition,</span><br /> +<span class="i0">My heart's desire,</span><br /> +<span class="i0">My joy,</span><br /> +<span class="i0">And my sorrow</span><br /> +<span class="i0">To the fire</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Of human kind.</span><br /> +<span class="i0">For I will tend</span><br /> +<span class="i0">As my fathers have tended</span><br /> +<span class="i0">And my fathers' fathers</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Since time began,</span><br /> +<span class="i0">The fire that is called</span><br /> +<span class="i0">The love of man for man,</span><br /> +<span class="i0">The love of man for God."</span><br /> +</div></div> + +<p>Mrs. Arnold said a few kind words to each as +she pinned on their red badges. Only novices +who had stood the various tests with credit were +raised to the honour of the second rank. Those +who had failed must perforce continue as Wood-gatherers +for another period of three months.</p> + +<p>There remained one further and higher rank, +only attainable after six months' ardent and trustworthy +service as Fire-makers. To-night three +girls were to be admitted to its privileges, and +Helen Cooper, Doris Deane, and Ulyth Stanton +presented themselves. With grave faces they repeated +the Torch-bearer's desire:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"That light which has been given to me I desire to pass +undimmed to others."</p></div> + +<p>Ulyth kissed Mrs. Arnold's pretty hand as the +long-coveted yellow badge was fastened on to her +dress, side by side with the Union Jack. She<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span> +was so glad to be a Torch-bearer at last. She had +become a candidate when the League was first +founded three years ago, and all that time she had +been slowly working towards the desired end of +the third rank. One or two slips had hindered +her progress, but last term she had made a very +special effort, and it was sweet to meet with her +reward. Torch-bearers were mostly to be found +among the Sixth and Upper Fifth; she was the +only girl in V <span class="smcap">b</span> who had won so high a place. +She touched the yellow ribbon tenderly. It meant +so much to her.</p> + +<p>Now that the serious business of the meeting +was over, the fun was about to begin. The big +camp-kettle was produced and filled at the stream, +and then set to boil upon the embers. Cups and +spoons made their appearance. Cocoa and biscuits +were to be the order of the evening, followed by as +many songs, dances, and games as time permitted. +Squatting on the grass, the girls made a circle +round their council-fire. Marjorie Earnshaw, one +of the Sixth, had brought her guitar, and struck +the strings every now and then as an earnest of +the music she intended to bring from it later on. +Everybody was in a jolly mood, and inclined to +laugh at any pun, however feeble. Mrs. Arnold, +always bright and animated, surpassed herself, +and waxed so amusing that the circle grew almost +hysterical. The Wood-gatherers, whose office it +was to mix the cocoa, supplied cup after cup, and +refilled the kettle so often that they ventured to +air the time-honoured joke that the stream would<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span> +run dry, for which ancient chestnut they were +pelted with pebbles.</p> + +<p>When at last nobody could even pretend to be +thirsty any longer, the cups were rinsed in the +pool and stacked under a tree, and the concert +commenced. Part-songs and catches sounded delightful +in the open air, and solos, sung to the +accompaniment of Marjorie's guitar, were equally +effective. The girls roared the choruses to popular +national ditties, and special favourites were repeated +again and again. Several step-dances were executed, +and had a weird effect in the unsteady light +of the waning fire. Mrs. Arnold, who was a splendid +elocutionist, gave a recitation on an incident +in the American War, and was enthusiastically +encored. The moon had risen high in the sky, +and was peeping through the tree-tops as if curious +to see who had invaded so sylvan a spot as the +glade. The silver beams caught the ripples of +the stream and made the shadows seem all the +darker.</p> + +<p>It was a glorious beginning for the new term, as +everybody agreed, and an earnest of the fun that +was in store later on.</p> + +<p>"We shan't be able to camp out next meeting, +but we'll have high jinks in the hall," purred Beth +Broadway.</p> + +<p>"Yes; Mrs. Arnold says she has a lovely programme +for the winter, and we're to have candles +instead of fuel," agreed Lizzie Lonsdale, who +had been raised that evening to the rank of Fire-maker.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Trust Mrs. Arnold to find something new for +us to do!" murmured Ulyth, looking fondly in the +direction of her ideal.</p> + +<p>"My gracious, I call this meeting no end!" +piped a cheerful voice in her ear; and Rona, +smiling with all-too-obtrusive friendliness, plumped +down by her side. "You've good times here, and +no mistake! I think I'll be a candidate myself +next, if that's the game to play. You're a high-and-mighty +one, aren't you? Let's have a look at +your badge!"</p> + +<p>"If you dare to touch it!" flared Ulyth, putting +up her hand to guard her cherished token.</p> + +<p>"Why, I wouldn't do it any harm, I promise +you; I wouldn't finger it! It means something, +doesn't it? I didn't quite catch what it was. You +might tell me. How'm I ever to get to know if you +won't?"</p> + +<p>Rona's clear blue eyes, unconsciously wistful, +looked straight into Ulyth's. The latter sprang +to her feet without a word. The force of her own +motto seemed suddenly to be revealed to her. She +rushed away into the shadow of the trees to think +it over for herself.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"That light which has been given to me I desire to pass +undimmed to others."</p></div> + +<p>Those were the words she had repeated so +earnestly less than an hour ago. And she was +already about to make them a mockery! Yes, that +was what Mrs. Arnold had meant. She had known +it all the time, but she would not acknowledge it<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span> +even to her innermost heart. Was this what was +required from a Torch-bearer—to pass on her own +refinement and culture to a girl whose crudities +offended every particle of her fastidious taste? +Ulyth sat down on a stone and wept hot, bitter, +rebellious tears. She understood only too well +why she had been so miserable for the last three +days. She had disliked Miss Bowes for hinting +that she was not keeping her word, and had told +herself that she was a much-tried and ill-used +person.</p> + +<p>"I must do it, I must, or fail at the very +beginning!" she sobbed. "I know what Mother +would say. It's got to be; if for nothing else, for +the sake of the school. A Torch-bearer mustn't +shirk and break her pledge. Oh, how I shall loathe +it, hate it! Ulyth Stanton, do you realize what +you're undertaking? Your whole term's going to +be spoilt."</p> + +<p>The big bell in the tower was clanging its summons +to return, with short, impatient strokes. +Everybody joined hands in a circle round the +ashes of the camp-fire, to sing in a low chant +the good-night song of the League and "God +Save the Queen". Mr. Arnold, who had come to +fetch his wife, was sounding his hooter as a signal +on the drive. The evening's fun was over. Regretfully +the girls collected cups, spoons, and kettle, +and made their way back to the house.</p> + +<p>On Sunday morning Ulyth, with a very red face, +marched into the study, and announced:</p> + +<p>"Miss Bowes, I've been having a tussle. One-<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span>half +of me said: 'Don't have Rona in your room +at any price!' and the other half said: 'Let her +stop!' I've decided to keep her."</p> + +<p>"I knew you would, when you'd thought it +over," beamed Miss Bowes.</p> + +<p>"Are all New Zealanders the same?" asked +Ulyth. "I've not met one before."</p> + +<p>"Certainly not. Most of them are quite as +cultured and up-to-date as ourselves. There are +splendid schools in New Zealand, and excellent +opportunities for study of every kind. Poor Rona, +unfortunately, has had to live on a farm far away +from civilization, and her education and welfare in +every respect seem to have been utterly neglected. +Don't take her as a type of New Zealand! But +she'll soon improve if we're all prepared to help +her. I'm glad you're ready to be her real friend."</p> + +<p>"I'll try my best!" sighed Ulyth.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em"> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IV" id="CHAPTER_IV"></a><a href="#TOC_IV">CHAPTER IV</a></h2> + +<h3>A Blackberry Foray</h3> +</div> + +<p>Having made up her mind to accept the responsibility +which fate, through the agency of the +magazine editor, had thrust upon her, Ulyth, +metaphorically speaking, set her teeth, and began +to take Rona seriously in hand. Being ten months +older than her protégée, in a higher form, and, +moreover, armed with full authority from Miss +Bowes, she assumed command of the bedroom, +and tried to regulate the chaos that reigned on +her comrade's side of it. Rona submitted with +an air of amused good nature to have her clothes +arranged in order in her drawers, her shoes put +away in the cupboard, and her toilet articles allotted +places on her washstand and dressing-table. She +even consented to give some thought to her personal +appearance, and borrowed Ulyth's new +manicure set.</p> + +<p>"You're mighty particular," she objected. +"What does it all matter? Miss Bowes gave me +such a talking-to, and said I'd got to do exactly +what you told me; and before I came, Dad rubbed +it into me to copy you for all I was worth, so I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span> +suppose I'll have to try. I guess you'll find it a +job to civilize me though." And her eyes twinkled.</p> + +<p>Ulyth thought, with a mental sigh, that she probably +would find it "a job".</p> + +<p>"No one bothered about it at home," Rona continued +cheerfully. "Dad did say sometimes I was +growing up a savage, but Mrs. Barker never cared. +She let me do what I liked, so long as I didn't +trouble her. She was no lady! We couldn't get +a lady to stay at our out-of-the-way block. Dad +used to be a swell in England once, but that was +before I was born."</p> + +<p>Ulyth began to understand, and her disgust +changed to a profound pity. A motherless girl +who had run wild in the backwoods, her father +probably out all day, her only female guide a +woman of the backwoods, whose manners were +presumably of the roughest—this had been Rona's +training. No wonder she lacked polish!</p> + +<p>"When I compare her home with my home and +my lovely mother," thought Ulyth, "yes—there's +certainly a vast amount to be passed on."</p> + +<p>The other girls, who had never expected her to +keep Rona in her bedroom, were inclined to poke +fun at the proceeding.</p> + +<p>"Your bear cub will need training before you +teach her to dance," said Stephanie Radford tauntingly.</p> + +<p>"She has no parlour tricks at present," sniggered +Addie Knighton.</p> + +<p>"Are you posing as Valentine and Orson?" +laughed Gertie Oliver. Gertrude had been Ulyth's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span> +room-mate last term, and felt aggrieved to be +superseded.</p> + +<p>"I call her the cuckoo," said Mary Acton. "Do +you remember the young one we found last spring, +sprawling all over the nest, and opening its huge, +gaping beak?"</p> + +<p>In spite of her ignorance and angularities there +was a certain charm about the new-comer. When +the sunburn caused by her sea-voyage had yielded +to a course of treatment, it left her with a complexion +which put even that of Stephanie Radford, +the acknowledged school beauty, in the shade. +The coral tinge in Rona's cheeks was, as Doris +Deane enviously remarked, "almost too good to +look natural", and her blue eyes with the big +pupils and the little dark rims round the iris shone +like twinkling stars when she laughed. That +ninnying laugh, to be sure, was still somewhat +offensive, but she was trying to moderate it, and +only when she forgot did it break out to scandalize +the refined atmosphere of The Woodlands; the +small white even teeth which it displayed, and two +conspicuous dimples, almost atoned for it. The +brown hair was brushed and waved and its consequent +state of new glossiness was a very distinct +improvement on the former elf locks. In the sunshine +it took tones of warm burnt sienna, like the +hair of the Madonna in certain of Titian's great pictures. +Lessons, alack! were uphill work. Rona was +naturally bright, but some subjects she had never +touched before, and in others she was hopelessly +backward. The general feeling in the school was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span> +that "The Cuckoo", as they nicknamed her, was +an experiment, and no one could guess exactly +what she would grow into.</p> + +<p>"She's like one of those queer beasties we dug +up under the yew-tree last autumn," suggested +Merle Denham. "Those wriggling transparent +things, I mean. Don't you remember? We kept +them in a box, and didn't know whether they'd +turn out moths, or butterflies, or earwigs, or woodlice!"</p> + +<p>"They turned into cockchafer beetles, as a matter +of fact," said Ulyth drily.</p> + +<p>"Well, they were horrid enough in all conscience. +I don't like Nature study when it means +hoarding up creepy-crawlies."</p> + +<p>"You're not obliged to take it."</p> + +<p>"I don't this year. I've got Harmony down on +my time-table instead."</p> + +<p>"You'll miss the rambles with Teddie."</p> + +<p>"I don't care. I'll play basket-ball instead."</p> + +<p>"How about the blackberry foray?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I'm not going to be left out of that! It's +not specially Nature study. I've put my name +down with Miss Moseley's party."</p> + +<p>The inmates of The Woodlands were fond of jam. +It was supplied to them liberally, and they consumed +large quantities of it at tea-time. To help to +meet this demand, blackberrying expeditions were +organized during the last weeks of September, and +the whole school turned out in relays to pick fruit. +A dozen girls and a mistress generally composed +a party, which was not confined to any particular<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span> +form, but might include any whose arrangements +for practising or special lessons allowed them to +go. Dates and particulars of the various rambles +planned, with the names of the mistresses who were +to be leaders, were pinned up on the notice-board, +and the girls might put their names to them as they +liked, so long as each list did not exceed twelve.</p> + +<p>On Saturday afternoon Miss Moseley headed a +foray in the direction of Porth Powys Falls, and +Merle, Ulyth, Rona, Addie, and Stephanie were +members of her flock.</p> + +<p>"I'm glad I managed to get into this party," +announced Merle, "because I always like Porth +Powys better than Pontvoelas or Aberceiriog. It's +a jollier walk, and the blackberries are bigger and +better. I was the very last on the list, so I'd luck. +Alice had to go under Teddie's wing. I'd rather +have Mosie than Teddie!"</p> + +<p>"So would I," agreed Ulyth. "I scribbled my +name the very first of all. Just got a chance to do +it as I was going to my music-lesson, before everyone +else made a rush for the board. Porth Powys +will be looking no end to-day."</p> + +<p>Swinging their baskets, the girls began to climb +a narrow path which ran alongside the stream up +the glen. Some of them were tempted to linger, +and began to gather what blackberries could be +found; but Miss Moseley had different plans.</p> + +<p>"Come along! It's ridiculous to waste our labour +here," she exclaimed. "All these bushes have +been well picked over already. We'll walk straight +on till we come to the lane near the ruined cottage,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span> +then we shall get a harvest and fill our baskets in +a third of the time. Quick march!"</p> + +<p>There was sense in her remarks, so Merle +abandoned several half-ripe specimens for which +she had been reaching and joined the file that was +winding, Indian fashion, up the path through the +wood. Over a high, ladder-like stile they climbed, +then dropped down into the gorge to where a small +wooden bridge spanned the stream. They loved to +stand here looking at the brown rushing water that +swirled below. The thick trees made a green parlour, +and the continual moisture had carpeted the +woods with beautiful verdant moss which grew in +close sheets over the rocks. Up again, by an even +steeper and craggier track, they climbed the farther +bank of the gorge, and came out at last on to the +broad hill-side that overlooked the Craigwen Valley.</p> + +<p>Here was scope for a leader; the track was so +overgrown as to be almost indistinguishable, and +ran across boggy land, where it was only too easy +to plunge over one's boot-tops in oozy peat. Miss +Moseley found the way like a pioneer; she had often +been there before and remembered just what places +were treacherous and just where it was possible to +use a swinging bough for a help. By following in +her footsteps the party got safely over without serious +wettings, and sat down to take breath for a few +minutes on some smooth, glacier-ground rocks that +topped the ridge they had been scaling. They were +now at some height above the valley, and the prospect +was magnificent. For at least ten miles they +could trace the windings of the river, and taller<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span> +and more distant mountain peaks had come into +view.</p> + +<p>"Some people say that Craigwen Valley's very +like the Rhine," volunteered Ulyth. "It hasn't +any castles, of course, except at Llangarmon, but +the scenery's just as lovely."</p> + +<p>"Nice to think it's British then," rejoiced Merle. +"Wales can hold its own in the way of mountains +and lakes. People have no need to go abroad for +them. What's New Zealand like, Rona?"</p> + +<p>"We've ripping rivers there," replied the Cuckoo, +"bigger than this by lots, and with tree-ferns up in +the bush. This isn't bad, though, as far as it goes. +What's that place over across on the opposite +hill?"</p> + +<p>"Where the light's shining? Oh, that's Llanfairgwyn! +There's a village and a church. We've +only been once. It's rather a long way, because +you have to cross the ferry at Glanafon before you +can get to the other side of the river."</p> + +<p>"And what's that big white house in the trees, +with the flag?"</p> + +<p>"That's Plas Cafn. It's <i>the</i> place in the neighbourhood, +you know," said Stephanie, fondly fingering +her necklace.</p> + +<p>"I don't know. How should I?"</p> + +<p>"Well, you know it now, at any rate."</p> + +<p>"Does it belong to toffs?"</p> + +<p>"It belongs to Lord and Lady Glyncraig. They +live there for part of the year."</p> + +<p>"Oh!" said Rona. She put her chin on her +hand and surveyed the distant mansion for several<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span> +moments in silence. "I reckon they're stuck up," +she remarked at last.</p> + +<p>"I believe they're considered nice. I've never +spoken to them," replied Ulyth.</p> + +<p>"I have," put in Stephanie complacently. "I +went to tea once at Plas Cafn. It was when Father +was Member for Rotherford. Lord Glyncraig knew +him in Parliament, of course, and he happened to +meet Father and me just when we were walking +past the gate at Plas Cafn, and asked us in to tea."</p> + +<p>Merle, Addie, and Ulyth smiled. This visit, +paid four years ago, was the standing triumph of +Stephanie's life. She never forgot, nor allowed any +of her schoolfellows to forget, that she had been +entertained by the great people of the neighbourhood.</p> + +<p>"He wasn't Lord Glyncraig then; he was only +Sir John Mitchell, Baronet. He's been raised to +a peerage since," said Merle, willing to qualify +some of the glory of Stephanie's reminiscences.</p> + +<p>"We don't grow peers in Waitoto, or baronets +either, for the matter of that," observed Rona. "I +don't guess they're wanted out with us. We'd +have no place in the bush for a Lord Glyncraig."</p> + +<p>"You'd better claim acquaintance with him, as +your name's Mitchell too. How proud he'd be of +the honour!" teased Addie.</p> + +<p>Coral flooded the whole of the Cuckoo's face. +She had begun to understand the difference between +her rough upbringing and the refined homes of the +other girls, and she resented the sneers that were +often made at her expense.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Our butcher at home is Joseph Mitchell," +hinnied Merle.</p> + +<p>"Mitchell's a common enough name," said Ulyth. +"I know two families in Scotland and some people +at Plymouth all called Mitchell. They're none of +them related to each other, and probably not to +Merle's butcher or to Lord Glyncraig."</p> + +<p>"Nor to me," said Rona. "I'm a democrat, and +I glory in it. Stephanie's welcome to her grand +friends if she likes them."</p> + +<p>"I do like them," sighed Stephanie plaintively. +"I love aristocratic people and nice houses and +things. Why shouldn't I? You needn't grin, +Addie Knighton; you'd know them yourself if you +could. When I come out I'd like to be presented +at Court, and go to a ball where the people are all +dukes and duchesses and earls and countesses. It +would be worth while dancing with a duke, especially +if he wore the Order of the Garter!"</p> + +<p>"Until that glorious day comes you'll have to +dance with poor little me for a partner," giggled +Merle.</p> + +<p>"Aren't you all rested? We shall get no blackberries +if we don't hurry on," called Miss Moseley +from the other end of the rock.</p> + +<p>Everybody scrambled up immediately and set out +again over the bracken-covered hill-side. Another +half-mile and they had reached the bourne of their +expedition. The narrow track through the gorse +and fern widened suddenly into a lane, a lane with +very high, unmortared walls, over which grew a +variety of bramble with a particularly luscious fruit.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span> +Every connoisseur of blackberries knows what a +difference there is between the little hard seedy ones +that commonly flourish in the hedges and the big +juicy ones with the larger leaves. Nature had been +prodigal here, and a bounteous harvest hung within +easy reach.</p> + +<p>"They are as big as mulberries—and oh, such +heaps and heaps!" exclaimed Addie ecstatically. +"No, Merle, you wretch, this is my branch! Don't +poach, you wretch! Go farther on, can't you!"</p> + +<p>"I wish we could send the jam to the hospital +when it's made," sighed Merle.</p> + +<p>The party spread itself out; some of the girls +climbed to the top of the wall, so that they could +reach what grew on the sunnier side, and a few +skirted round over a gate into a field, where a +ruined cottage was also covered with brambles. +They worked down the lane by slow degrees, picking +hard as they went. At the end a sudden rushing +roar struck upon the ear, and without even +waiting for a signal from Miss Moseley the girls +with one accord hopped over a fence, and ran up a +slight incline. The voice of the waterfall was calling, +and the impulse to obey was irresistible. At +the top of the slope they stopped, for they had +reached a natural platform that overlooked the +gorge. The scene rivalled one of the beauty-spots +of Switzerland. The Porth Powys stream, flowing +between precipitous rocks, fell two hundred feet in +a series of four splendid cascades. The rugged +crags on either side were thickly covered with a +forest of fir and larch, and here and there a taller<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span> +stone-pine reared its darker head above the silvery +green. Dashing, roaring, leaping, shouting, the +water poured down in a never-ceasing volume: the +white spray rose up in clouds, wetting the girls' faces; +the sound was like an endless chorus of +hallelujahs.</p> + +<p>"Porth Powys is in fine form to-day. There +must have been rain up in the mountains last +night," remarked Ulyth. "What do you think of +it, Rona?"</p> + +<p>"It's a champion! I'm going to climb down +there and get at the edge."</p> + +<p>"No, you won't!" said Miss Moseley sharply. +"Nobody is to go a single step nearer. You must +all come back into the lane now, and get on with +blackberry-picking. Your baskets are only half +full yet."</p> + +<p>Very reluctantly the girls followed. The fall +exercised a fascination over them, and they could +have stayed half an hour watching its white swirl. +They did not wish, however, to earn the reputation +of slackers. Two other parties had gone out blackberrying +that afternoon, and there would be keen +competition as to which would bring back the most +pounds. They set to work again, therefore, with +enthusiasm, counting stained fingers and scratches +as glorious wounds earned in the good cause. +Rona picked with zeal, but she had a preoccupied +look on her face.</p> + +<p>"Say, I liked that waterfall," she remarked to +Ulyth. "One can't see anything of it down in this +old lane. I'm going to get a better view."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span></p> + +<p>"You mustn't go off on your own," commanded +Ulyth. "Miss Moseley will report you if you +do!"</p> + +<p>"Don't excite yourself. I only said I was going +to get a better view. It's quite easy."</p> + +<p>Rona put her basket in a safe place, and with the +aid of a hazel bush climbed to the top of the wall. +Apparently the prospect did not satisfy her.</p> + +<p>"I'm going a stave higher still. Keep your +hair on!" she shouted down to Ulyth, and began +swarming up the bole of a huge old oak-tree that +abutted on the wall. She was strong and active +as a boy, and had soon scrambled to where the +branches forked. A mass of twisted ivy hung here, +and raising herself with its aid, she stood on an +outstretched bough.</p> + +<p>"It's ripping! I can see a little bit of the fall; +I'll see it better if I get over on to that other +branch."</p> + +<p>"Take care!" called Miss Moseley from below.</p> + +<p>Rona started. She had not known the mistress +was so near. The movement upset her decidedly +unstable balance; she clutched hard at the ivy, but +it gave way in her fingers; there was a sudden +crash and a smothered shriek.</p> + +<p>White as a ghost, Miss Moseley climbed the +wall, expecting to find the prostrate form of her +pupil on the other side. To her surprise she saw +nothing of the sort. Near at hand, however, came +a stifled groan.</p> + +<p>"Rona, where are you?" shrieked the distracted +governess.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Here," spluttered the voice of the Cuckoo; +"inside the tree. The beastly old thing's rotten, +and I've tumbled to the very bottom of the trunk!"</p> + +<p>"Are you hurt?"</p> + +<p>"No, nothing to speak of."</p> + +<p>"Here's a pretty go!" murmured the girls, who +all came running at the sound of shouts. "How's +she going to get out again?"</p> + +<p>"Can't you climb up?" urged Miss Moseley.</p> + +<p>"No, I can't stir an inch; I'm wedged in somehow."</p> + +<p>What was to be done? The affair waxed serious. +Miss Moseley, with a really heroic effort, and much +help from the girls, managed to scale the tree and +look down into the hollow trunk. She could just +see Rona's scared face peeping up at her many +feet below.</p> + +<p>"Can you put up your hand and let me pull +you?"</p> + +<p>"No; I tell you I'm wedged as tight as a +sardine."</p> + +<p>"We shall have to send for help then. May +and Kathleen, run as quickly as you can down the +lane. There's a farm at the bottom of the hill. +Tell them what's the matter."</p> + +<p>"I hope to goodness they'll understand English!" +murmured Merle.</p> + +<p>"Will I have to stop here always?" demanded +a tragic voice within the tree. "Shall you be able +to feed me, or will I have to starve? How long +does it take to die of hunger?"</p> + +<p>"You won't die just yet," returned Miss Moseley,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span> +laughing a little in spite of herself. "We'll get +you out in course of time."</p> + +<p>"I guess I'd better make my will, though. Has +anybody got a pencil and paper, and will they +please write it down and send it home? I want to +leave my saddle to Pamela Higson, and Jake is +to have the bridle and whip—I always liked him +better than Billy, though I pretended I didn't. +Jane Peters may have my writing-desk—much she +writes, though!—and Amabel Holt my old doll. +That's all I've left in New Zealand. Ulyth can +take what I've got at school—'twon't be any great +shakes to her, I expect. You didn't tell me how +long it takes to die!"</p> + +<p>"Cheer up! There's not the slightest danger," +Miss Moseley continued to assure her.</p> + +<p>"It's all very well to say 'cheer up' when you're +standing safe on the top," said the gloomy voice of +the imprisoned dryad. "It feels a different matter +when you're boxed up tight with tree all round you. +It's jolly uncomfortable. Where are the girls?"</p> + +<p>"Here's one," replied Ulyth, climbing the tree +to relieve poor Miss Moseley, who gladly retired +in her favour. "I'm going to stay and talk to you +till somebody comes to get you out. Oh, here are +May and Kathleen at last! What a fearful time +they've been!"</p> + +<p>The two messengers came panting back with +many excuses for their delay. It was a long way +down the lane to the farm, and when they arrived +there they had considerable difficulty in explaining +their errand. No one could understand English<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span> +except a little boy, who was only half-able to translate +their remarks into Welsh. They had at length +made the farmer realize what had happened, and +he had promised to come at once. In the course +of a few minutes they were followed by David +Jones and his son, Idwal, bearing a rope, an axe, +and a saw, and looking rather dismayed at the task +in store for them. It proved indeed a matter of +considerable difficulty to rescue Rona without hurting +her; a portion of the tree-trunk was obliged to +be sawn away before she could obtain sufficient +room to help to free herself, and it was only after +an hour's hard work that she stood at last in safety +on the ground.</p> + +<p>"How do you feel?" asked Miss Moseley anxiously, +fearing broken bones or a sprain from the +final effort of extraction.</p> + +<p>"Well, I guess it's taken the bounce out of me. +I'm as stiff as a rheumatic cat! Oh, I'll get back +to school somehow, don't alarm yourself! I'm +absolutely starving for tea. Good-bye, you wood-demon; +you nearly finished me!" and Rona shook +her fist at the offending oak-tree as a parting salute.</p> + +<p>"She called it demon to rhyme with lemon!" +gurgled Addie, almost sobbing with mirth as she +followed, holding Merle's arm. "The Cuckoo will +cause me to break a blood-vessel some day. It +hurts me most dreadfully to laugh. I've got a +stitch in my side. Oh dear! I wonder whatever +she'll go and do next?"</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em"> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_V" id="CHAPTER_V"></a><a href="#TOC_V">CHAPTER V</a></h2> + +<h3>On Sufferance</h3> +</div> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">"Scratch, scratch, scratch,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Scratch went the old black hen!<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Every fowl that scrapes in the barn<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Can scratch as well as your pen!"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>So sang Rona, bounding noisily one afternoon +into No. 3, Room 5, and popping her hands from +behind over Ulyth's eyes as the latter sat writing +at a table near the window.</p> + +<p>"What are you always scratching away for? +Can't you finish your work at prep.? Why don't +you come downstairs and play basket-ball? You're +mighty studious all of a sudden. What have you +got here?"</p> + +<p>Ulyth flushed crimson with annoyance, and +turned her sheets of foolscap hastily over to hide +them from her room-mate's prying eyes.</p> + +<p>"You're not to touch my papers, Rona! I've +told you that before."</p> + +<p>"Well, I wasn't touching them. Looking's not +touching, anyway. What are you doing? It's +queer taste to sit scribbling here half your spare +time."</p> + +<p>"What I was doing is my own concern, and no +business of yours."</p> + +<p>"Now you're riled," said the Cuckoo, sitting<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span> +down easily on her bed. "I didn't mean any +harm. I always seem sticking my foot into it +somehow."</p> + +<p>Ulyth sighed. Nobody in the school realized +how much she had to put up with from her irrepressible +room-mate, whose hearty voice, extraordinary +expressions, and broad notions of fun +grated upon her sensitive nature. Rona did not +appreciate in the least the heroic sacrifice that +Ulyth was making. It had never occurred to her +that she might be placed in another dormitory, +and that she only remained on sufferance in No. 3. +She admired Ulyth immensely, and was quite prepared +to take her as a model, but at present the +copy was very far indeed from the original. The +mistresses had instituted a vigorous crusade against +Rona's loud voice and unconventional English, +and she was really making an effort to improve; but +the habits of years are not effaced in a few weeks, +and she still scandalized the authorities considerably. +Ulyth could tolerate her when she kept to +her own side of the bedroom, but to have meddlesome +fingers interfering with her private possessions +was the last straw to her burden of endurance.</p> + +<p>"Do you understand?" she repeated emphatically. +"You're not to touch my papers at all!"</p> + +<p>"All serene! I won't lay a finger on them—honest—sure!" +returned the Cuckoo, chanting her +words to the air of "Swanee River", and drumming +an accompaniment on the bedpost. "What +d'you think Stephanie called me just now? She +said I was an unlicked cub."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Oh, surely she didn't! Are you certain?"</p> + +<p>"Heard her myself. She said it to my face and +tittered. You bet I'll pay her out somehow. Miss +Stephanie Radford needs taking down a peg. Oh, +don't alarm yourself, I'll do it neatly! There'll be +no clumsy bungling about it. Well, if you won't +go down and play basket-ball I shall. It's more +fun than sitting up here."</p> + +<p>As the door banged behind Rona, Ulyth heaved +an ecstatic "Thank goodness!" She sat for a +few moments trying to regain her composure before +she recommenced the writing at which she +had been interrupted. The manuscript on which +she was engaged was very precious. She had set +herself no less a task than to write a book. The +subject had come to her suddenly one morning as +she lay awake in bed, and she regarded it as an +inspiration. She would make a story about The +Woodlands, and bring in all the girls she knew. +It was no use struggling with a historical plot or +a romance of the war—she had tried these, and +stuck fast in the first chapters; it was better to +employ the material close at hand, and weave her +tale from the every-day incidents which happened +in the school. So she had begun, and though she +floundered a little at the difficulty of transferring +her impressions to paper, she was making distinct +progress.</p> + +<p>"I'd never dare to have it published, of course," +she ruminated. "Still, it's a beginning, and I +shall like to read it over to myself. I think there +are some rather neat bits in it, especially that shot<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span> +at Addie and Stephie. How wild they'd be if they +knew! But there's no fear of that. I'll take good +care nobody finds out."</p> + +<p>When to make time to go on with her literary +composition was the difficulty. It was hard to +snatch even an occasional half-hour during the +day. Where there is a will, however, there is +generally also a way, and Ulyth hit upon the plan +of getting up very early in the morning and writing +while Rona was still asleep. The Cuckoo never +stirred until the seven o'clock bell rang, when she +would awake noisily, with many yawns and stretchings +of arms, so Ulyth flattered herself that her +secret was absolutely safe.</p> + +<p>Where to hide the precious papers was another +problem. She did not dare to put them in any +of her drawers, her desk would not lock, and her +little jewel-box was too small to contain them.</p> + +<p>The fireplace in the bedroom had an old-fashioned +chimney-piece that was fitted with a loose +wooden mantel-board, from which hung a border +of needlework. It was quite easy to lift up this +board and slip the papers between it and the +chimney-piece; the border completely screened the +hiding-place, and, except at a spring-cleaning, the +arrangement was not likely to be disturbed. Ulyth +congratulated herself greatly upon her ingenuity. +It was interesting to have a secret which nobody +even guessed. She often looked at the chimney-piece, +and chuckled as she thought of what lay +concealed there.</p> + +<p>The days were rapidly closing in now, and the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span> +time between tea and preparation, which only a +few weeks ago was devoted to a last game of tennis +or a run by the stream, was perforce spent by the +schoolroom fire. It was only a short interval, not +long enough to make any elaborate occupation +worth while, so the girls sat knitting in the twilight +and chatting until the bell rang for evening +work.</p> + +<p>One afternoon, when tea was finished, Ulyth, +instead of joining the others as usual, walked upstairs +to put away some specimens in the Museum. +She passed V <span class="smcap">b</span> classroom as she did so, and heard +smothered peals of mirth issuing from behind the +half-closed door.</p> + +<p>"What are they doing?" she thought. "I believe +I'll go and see." But catching Rona's laugh +above the rest, she changed her mind, walked on, +and bestowed her fossils carefully in a spare corner +of one of the cases. Meanwhile, the group assembled +round the fire in V <span class="smcap">b</span> were enjoying themselves. +The room was growing dusk, but, seated +on the hearthrug, Addie Knighton could see quite +sufficiently to read aloud extracts from a document +she was perusing, extracts to which the others +listened with thrilling interest, interspersed with +comments.</p> + +<p>"'The girls of the Oaklands'," so she read, +"'were a rather peculiar and miscellaneous set, +especially those in the Lower Fifth. Scarcely any +of them could be called pretty—'" ("Oh! oh!" +howled the attentive circle.) "'One of them, +Valerie Chadford, imagined herself so, and gave<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span> +herself fearful airs in consequence; she was very +set up at knowing smart people, and often bragged +about it.'" ("I'll never forgive her, never!" +screamed Stephanie.) "'The twins, Pearl and +Doris, were fat, stodgy girls, who wore five-and-a-halfs +in shoes and had twenty-seven-inch waists.'" +("Oh! Won't Merle and Alice be just frantic +when they hear?") "'But even they were more +interesting than Nellie Clacton, who usually sat +with her mouth open, as if she was trying to catch +flies.'" ("Does she mean me?" gasped Mary +Acton indignantly.) "'Florence Tulliver was inclined +to be snarly, and often said mean things +about other people behind their backs.'" ("I'll say +something now!" declared Gertrude Oliver.) "'And +Annie Ryton was——'" but here Addie broke off +abruptly and exploded.</p> + +<p>"Go on! Go on!" commanded the girls.</p> + +<p>"It's too lovely!" spluttered Addie. "O—ho—ho! +So that's what she thinks of me, is +it?"</p> + +<p>"Read it, can't you?"</p> + +<p>"Here, give the paper to me!"</p> + +<p>"No, no! I'll go on—but—I didn't know my +eyes were like faded gooseberries, and my hair +like dried seaweed!"</p> + +<p>"Has she described herself!" asked Stephanie.</p> + +<p>"I haven't come to it yet. Oh yes! here we are, +farther on: 'Our heroine, Morvyth Langton, was +an unusually——'"</p> + +<p>But here Addie stopped abruptly, for a blazing +little fury stood in the doorway.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Addie Knighton, how dare you? How dare +you? Give me that paper this instant!"</p> + +<p>"No, no! It's much too interesting. Let go! +Don't be silly! How can you? Oh, what a shame!" +as Ulyth in her anger tore the manuscript across +and flung it into the fire.</p> + +<p>"Whew! Now you've gone and done it!" +whistled Rona.</p> + +<p>Ulyth was holding down the last flaming fragment +with the poker. When it had expired she +turned to the guilty circle. "Who took my papers +from my bedroom?"</p> + +<p>Her voice was sharp, and her eyes fixed full on +Rona.</p> + +<p>"I didn't touch them. I never laid so much as +a finger on them," protested the Cuckoo.</p> + +<p>"But you told someone where they were?"</p> + +<p>Rona winked in reply. Yes, alas! winked consciously +and deliberately. (It was well for her that +Miss Moseley was not in the room.)</p> + +<p>"I knew you'd got something there," she admitted. +"Were you such an innocent as to think +I never saw you scribbling away hard in the early +mornings? Why, I was foxing! I used to watch +you while I was snoring, and nearly died with +laughing because you never found me out."</p> + +<p>If eyes could slay, Ulyth's would have finished +Rona at that moment. But Addie Knighton, whose +suspension of mirth had been merely a species of +temporary paralysis, now relapsed into a choking +series of guffaws, in which the others joined +boisterously.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I can't—get—over—seaweed—and faded gooseberries!" +crowed Addie hysterically.</p> + +<p>"I don't catch flies with my open mouth!" +shouted Mary Acton, suspending her knitting in +her indignation.</p> + +<p>"Will somebody please measure the twins' waists?" +bleated Christine.</p> + +<p>"I didn't say it was meant for any of you. If +the cap fits, put it on. Listeners hear no good +of themselves, and no more do people who read +what isn't intended for them. It serves you all +right, so there!" and Ulyth flounced out of the +room.</p> + +<p>She ran straight up to her bedroom, and burst +into tears. It was such a tragi-comedy ending +to her literary ambition. She would rather the +girls had been more indignant than that they had +laughed so much.</p> + +<p>"I'll never write another line again," she resolved; +and then she thought of the binding she +had always intended to have on her first published +book, and wept harder.</p> + +<p>"Ulyth," said the Cuckoo, stealing in rather +shamefacedly, "I'm really frightfully sorry if you're +riled. I didn't know you cared all that much about +those old papers. I told Addie, as a joke, and she +went and poked them out. I think they were fine. +It was a shame to burn them. Can't you write +them over again?"</p> + +<p>"Never!" Ulyth replied, wiping her eyes. +"Rona, you don't realize what damage you've +done. There! oh yes, I'll forgive you, but if you<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span> +want to keep friends with me, don't go and do anything +of the sort again, that's all!"</p> + +<p>Ulyth felt a little shy of meeting her class-mates +after their discovery of the very unflattering description +she had written of them, but the girls were +good-natured and did not bear malice. They +treated the whole affair as an intense joke, and even +took to calling one another by the assumed names +of the story. They composed extra portions, including +a lurid description of Ulyth herself, illustrated +by rapid sketches on the black-board. The +disappointed authoress took it with what calm she +could muster. She knew they meant to tease, and +the fewer sparks they could raise from her the +sooner they would desist and let the matter drop. +It would probably serve as a target for Addie's wit +till the end of the term, unless the excitement of the +newly formed ambulance class chased it from her +memory. The Woodlanders were trying to do +their duty by their country, and all the girls were +enthusiastically practising bandaging.</p> + +<p>"I wish we'd some real patients to bind up," +sighed Merle one day, as V <span class="smcap">b</span> took its turn under +Nurse Griffith's instructions.</p> + +<p>"I'd be sorry for them if they were left to your +tender mercies," retorted Mavis, who had been +posing as patient. "My arm's sore yet with your +vigorous measures."</p> + +<p>"What nonsense! I was as gentle as a lamb."</p> + +<p>"A curious variety of lamb then, with a wolf +inside."</p> + +<p>"I believe The Woodlands would make a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span> +gorgeous hospital," suggested Addie hopefully. +"When we're through our course we might have +some real patients down and nurse them."</p> + +<p>"Don't you think it! The Rainbow won't carry +ambulance lessons as far as that!"</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em"> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VI" id="CHAPTER_VI"></a><a href="#TOC_VI">CHAPTER VI</a></h2> + +<h3>Quits</h3> +</div> + +<p>Ulyth, brushing her hair before the looking-glass +one morning, hummed cheerily.</p> + +<p>"You seem in spirits," commented Rona, from +the washstand. "It's more than I am. Miss +Lodge was a pig yesterday. She said my dictation +was a disgrace to the school, and I'd got to stop in +during the interval this morning and write out +all the wrong words a dozen times each. It's too +sickening! I'd no luck yesterday. Phyllis Chantrey +had my book to correct, and her writing and +mine are such opposite poles, we daren't try it on."</p> + +<p>"Try what on?" asked Ulyth, pausing with the +brush in her hand.</p> + +<p>"Why, the exchange dodge, you know."</p> + +<p>"I don't know."</p> + +<p>"Don't you take dictation in V <span class="smcap">b</span>? Well, in +our form we get it twice a week, and Miss Lodge +makes us correct each other's books. We make it +up to try and exchange with a girl whose writing's +pretty like one's own; then, you see, we can alter +things neatly, and allow full marks. It generally +works, but it didn't yesterday."</p> + +<p>Ulyth's face was a study.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span></p> + +<p>"You mean to tell me you correct each other's +mistakes!"</p> + +<p>"Why not?" said Rona, not the least abashed. +"Miss Lodge never finds out."</p> + +<p>Ulyth collapsed into a chair. What was she to +do with such a girl?</p> + +<p>"Don't you know it's the most atrocious +cheating?"</p> + +<p>"Is it? Why, the whole form does it," returned +the Cuckoo unconcernedly.</p> + +<p>"Then they're abominable little wretches, and +don't deserve to be candidates for the Camp-fire +League. I'm thoroughly ashamed of them. Have +they no sense of honour?"</p> + +<p>The Cuckoo was looking perplexed.</p> + +<p>"Ulyth Stanton, you're always rounding something +new on me," she sighed. "I can't keep up +with you. I keep my hair tidy now, and don't +leave my things lying round the room, and I try to +give a sort of twitter instead of laughing, and I've +dropped ever so many words you object to, and +practise walking down the passage with a book on +my head. What more do you want?"</p> + +<p>"A great deal," said Ulyth gravely. "Didn't +you learn honour at home?"</p> + +<p>"Catch Mrs. Barker!"</p> + +<p>"But surely your father——?"</p> + +<p>"I saw so little of Dad. He was out all day, +and sometimes off for weeks together at our other +block. When he was at home he didn't care to be +bothered overmuch."</p> + +<p>An amazed pity was taking the place of Ulyth's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span> +indignation. This was, indeed, fallow ground. +Mrs. Arnold's comment flashed across her mind:</p> + +<p>"What an opportunity for a Torch-bearer!"</p> + +<p>"I don't want to be turned into a prig," urged +the Cuckoo.</p> + +<p>"You needn't. There's a certain amount of +slang and fun that's allowable, but <i>noblesse oblige</i> +must always come first. You don't understand +French yet? Well, never mind. All that matters +is that you simply must realize, Rona—do listen, +please—that all of us here, including you, mustn't—couldn't—cheat +at lessons. For your own sake, +and for the sake of the school, you must stop +it."</p> + +<p>"You think a lot of the school!"</p> + +<p>"And quite right too! The school stands to +us for what the State does to grown-up people. +We've got to do our best to keep the tone up. +Cheating brings it down with a run. It's as bad +as tearing up treaties."</p> + +<p>"Go ahead. Rub it in," returned the Cuckoo, +beginning to whistle a trifle defiantly.</p> + +<p>She thought the matter over, nevertheless, and +returned to the subject that night when they were +going to bed.</p> + +<p>"Ulyth, I told the girls exactly what you said +about them. My gracious, you should have seen +their faces! Boiled lobsters weren't in it. That +hit about the Camp-fire Guild seemed specially to +floor them. I don't fancy, somehow, there'll be any +more correcting done in dictation. You've touched +them up no end."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I'm extremely glad if what I said has brought +them to their senses," declared Ulyth.</p> + +<p>Rona got on tolerably well among her comrades, +but there was one exception. With Stephanie she +was generally in a state of guerrilla warfare. The +latter declared that the vulgar addition to the +school was an outrage on the feelings of those who +had been better brought up. Stephanie had ambitions +towards society with a big S, and worshipped +titles. She would have liked the daughter +of a duke for a schoolfellow, but so far no member +of the aristocracy had condescended to come and be +educated at The Woodlands. Stephanie felt injured +that Miss Bowes and Miss Teddington should have +accepted such a girl as Rona, and lost no opportunity +of showing that she thought the New Zealander +very far below the accepted standard. The +Cuckoo's undoubted good looks were perhaps +another point in her disfavour. The school beauty +did not easily yield place to a rival, and though she +professed to consider Rona's complexion too high-coloured, +she had a sneaking consciousness that it +was superior to her own.</p> + +<p>During the summer holidays Stephanie had +taken part in a pageant that was held in aid of a +charity near her home. As Queen of the Roses +she had occupied a rather important position, and +her portrait, in her beautiful fancy costume, had +appeared in several of the leading ladies' newspapers. +Stephanie's features were good, and the +photograph had been a very happy one—"glorified +out of all knowledge" said some of the girls; so<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span> +the photographer had exhibited it in his window, +and altogether more notice had been taken of it +than was perhaps salutary for the original. Stephanie +had brought a copy back to school, and it now +adorned her bedroom mantelpiece. She was never +tired of descanting upon the pageant, and telling +about all the aristocratic people who had come to +see it. According to her account the very flower +of the neighbourhood had been present, and had +taken special notice of her. A girl who had so +lately consorted with the county could not be expected +to tolerate a tyro from the backwoods. +Stephanie was too well brought up to allow herself +to be often openly rude; her taunts were generally +ingeniously veiled, but they were none the less +aggravating for that. The Cuckoo might be callow +in some respects, but in others she was very much +up-to-date. Though she would look obtuse, and +pretend not to understand, as a matter of fact not a +gibe was lost upon her, and she kept an exact +account of the score.</p> + +<p>One morning, early in December, Miss Teddington, +who was distributing the contents of the postbag, +handed Stephanie a small parcel. It was +only a few days after the latter's birthday, and, supposing +it to be a belated present, the mistress did +not ask the usual questions by which she regulated +her pupils' correspondence. The letters were +always given out immediately after breakfast, and +the girls took them upstairs to read in their dormitories +during the quarter of an hour in which they +made their beds and tidied their rooms. This<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span> +morning, just as Ulyth was shaking her pillow, +Rona came in, chuckling to herself. The Cuckoo's +eyes twinkled like stars.</p> + +<p>"D'you want some sport?" she asked. "If you +do, come with me, and have the time of your +life!"</p> + +<p>Ulyth put down the pillow, and hesitated. Fifteen +minutes was not too long an allowance for all +she was expected to do in her room. But Rona's +manner was inviting. She wanted to see what the +fun was. The temptress held the door open, and +beckoned beguilingly.</p> + +<p>"All serene!" yielded Ulyth.</p> + +<p>Rona seized her by the arm and dragged her +delightedly down the passage.</p> + +<p>"Now you're chummy," she murmured. +"Whatever you do, though, don't make a noise +and give the show away!"</p> + +<p>Still in the dark as to the Cuckoo's intentions, +Ulyth allowed herself to be led to Dormitory 2, +No. 4, at the opposite side of the house. We have +mentioned before that the bedrooms at The Woodlands +were very spacious—so large, indeed, that +each was partitioned into four cubicles divided by +lath-and-plaster walls. A passage inside the dormitory +gave access to the cubicles, which were in +fact separate little bedrooms, except that the partition +walls, for purposes of ventilation, did not +reach the ceiling. At present the fourth cubicle in +Dormitory 2 was unoccupied, but its furniture was +rather curiously arranged. One of the beds had +been pulled close against the partition, and a chest<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span> +of drawers, with the drawers removed, had been +placed upon it.</p> + +<p>"I fixed it up last night, and it was a job," +whispered the Cuckoo. "Good thing I'm strong. +Now we've got to climb on that, and you'll see +what you'll see!"</p> + +<p>Ulyth had an uneasy consciousness that she +ought not to be mixed up in such a business; but, +after all, the girls often scrambled up and peeped +into one another's cubicles for a joke, so her action +would not be without precedent. She was a very +human person, and liked fun as well as anybody. +With extreme caution she and Rona mounted the +chest of drawers, trying not to make the slightest +noise. Their eyes were just on a level with the +top of the partition, and they had a good view of +the next cubicle. The occupants, Stephanie and +her room-mate, Beth Broadway, were far too absorbed +to think of looking up towards the ceiling. +Their attention was concentrated on the parcel +which had arrived by the post. It contained a +small bottle, carefully packed in shavings, and also +a typewritten letter, the purport of which seemed +to electrify Stephanie.</p> + +<p>"It's the most extraordinary thing I've ever +heard!" she was saying. "Beth, just listen to this."</p> + +<p>And she read aloud:</p> + +<p> +"66 <span class="smcap">Holborn Viaduct</span>,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><span class="smcap">London</span>.</span><br /> +</p> + +<p> +"<span class="smcap">Dear Madam</span>,<br /> +</p> + +<p>"Having seen your portrait, as a noted +beauty, published in <i>The Princess</i>, <i>The Ladies'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span> +Court Journal</i>, and other leading pictorials, we +venture to submit to you a sample of our famous +Eau de Venus, an invaluable adjunct to the toilet +of any lady possessing a delicate complexion. It +is a perfectly harmless, fragrantly scented fluid, +which, if applied daily after breakfast, produces a +rose-leaf bloom which is absolutely incomparable. +As it is a new preparation, we are anxious to submit +it to a few ladies of influence in the fashionable +world, feeling sure that, once used, they will recommend +it.</p> + +<p>"We shall esteem it a great favour if you will +graciously try the enclosed sample. We do not +ask for testimonials, but any expression of appreciation +from one who figured so admirably as Queen +of the Roses at the Barrfield Pageant would be to +us a source of immense gratification.</p> + +<p>"May we recommend that the preparation be +applied immediately after breakfast, as its ingredients +are more potent to the delicate pores of the +skin if used at that period of the morning.</p> + +<p>"With apologies for troubling you, and hoping +you will condescend to give our Eau de Venus at +least a trial,</p> + +<p> +"We remain,<br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">"Faithfully yours,</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">"<span class="smcap">Renan</span>, <span class="smcap">Mariette</span>, <span class="smcap">et Cie</span>,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Parfumeurs.</span>"<br /> +</p> + +<p>"How very peculiar!" gasped Beth, much impressed.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span></p> + +<p>"It must be because they saw my photo in the +papers," said Stephanie. She was trying to speak +casually, and not to appear too flattered, but her +eyes shone. "I believe that pageant made rather +a sensation, and of course, well, I was the principal +figure in it. I suppose I shall have to try this Eau +de Venus."</p> + +<p>"It's in a funny little bottle," commented Beth.</p> + +<p>"Samples generally are. They never send you +very much of a thing. They want you to buy a +big bottle afterwards."</p> + +<p>Stephanie carefully removed the cork. The preparation +seemed to be of a pink, milky description.</p> + +<p>"It smells of violets," she said, offering the +bottle for Beth to sniff.</p> + +<p>"I should certainly try it, if I were you," recommended +the latter.</p> + +<p>"It says it's quite harmless," continued Stephanie, +referring to the letter, "and should be used +immediately after breakfast. Well, there's no time +like the present!"</p> + +<p>If there was a curious agitation on the other side +of the partition, neither girl noticed it. Stephanie +poured some of the liquid into her hand and rubbed +it over her face. Then she turned to the looking-glass.</p> + +<p>"It seems very pink and queer! It's all in red +streaks!"</p> + +<p>"Perhaps you've put on too much. Wipe some +of it off," advised Beth.</p> + +<p>Vigorous measures with a sponge followed, and +Stephanie anxiously surveyed the result.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span></p> + +<p>"It won't come off!" she faltered. "Oh, what +have I done to myself? I'm all red smears!"</p> + +<p>Her dismay was too much for one at least on the +other side of the partition. Rona broke into a loud, +cackling laugh. One swift glance upwards and +Stephanie realized that she was the victim of a +practical joke. It took her exactly three seconds to +reach the next cubicle.</p> + +<p>"So it's you, is it?" she exploded. "Well, +Ulyth Stanton, I am astonished! Evil communications +corrupt good manners, and yours smack of +the backwoods."</p> + +<p>"Don't throw it on Ulyth; she knew nothing +about it," retorted the chuckling Cuckoo belligerently. +"It's my business, and I don't mind telling +you so!"</p> + +<p>"I might have known, you—you utter cad! +You don't deserve to be in a school among +ladies!"</p> + +<p>"Go on. Pitch it as strong as you like. The +cub's quits with you now for all your airs and your +nastiness."</p> + +<p>"Oh, don't!" protested Ulyth, interfering in +much distress. "Rona, do stop! I'd no idea you +meant to play such a dreadful trick on Stephie."</p> + +<p>"You must have known something of it, or you +wouldn't have come to look on. I expect you were +at the bottom of it," sneered Stephanie; "so don't +try to sneak out of it, Ulyth Stanton. Your precious +joke has marked me for life."</p> + +<p>"No, no! It's only cochineal and milk. I got +it from the cook," put in the Cuckoo.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span></p> + +<p>"It's stained her face all over, though," said +Beth Broadway reproachfully.</p> + +<p>"I shall go straight to Miss Bowes," whimpered +Stephanie.</p> + +<p>"I wouldn't do that if I were you," said Ulyth. +"Try some methylated spirit first. I'll give you +some from my room."</p> + +<p>The remedy proved efficacious. The stains +yielded to gentle rubbing, and the four girls flew +in a wild hurry to make their beds, three much +relieved and one naughtily exultant.</p> + +<p>"I've paid out Stephie," panted Rona, tucking +in her blankets anyhow. "I felt proud of that +letter. Made it up with the help of advertisements +in the <i>Illustrated Journal</i>. Then I typed it in the +study while Teddie was out. You didn't know I +could type? Learnt how on the voyage, from a +girl who'd a typewriter on board with her. I laid +on the butter pretty thick. I knew Steph would +swallow it to any amount. Oh, didn't she just look +flattered? It was prime! The under-housemaid +posted the parcel for me."</p> + +<p>"Stephie'll never forgive you!"</p> + +<p>"Much I care!"</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em"> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VII" id="CHAPTER_VII"></a><a href="#TOC_VII">CHAPTER VII</a></h2> + +<h3>The Cuckoo's Progress</h3> +</div> + +<p>"Your bear cub still needs taming, Ulyth," said +Gertrude Oliver. "She spilt her coffee this morning—such +a mess on the tablecloth! I wish I +didn't sit next to her. I felt like Alice at the March +Hare's tea-party."</p> + +<p>"It was half Maud's fault; she jerked her elbow," +pleaded Ulyth in extenuation.</p> + +<p>"Oh, you can't whitewash her, so don't try! I +won't say she isn't better than when she arrived, +but there's room for improvement."</p> + +<p>"She's much slimmer. I suppose it must have +been the voyage that had made her grow so fat in +September."</p> + +<p>"I wish, at any rate, you could get her out of +using those dreadful backwoods expressions. It's +high time she dropped them. She's been here +nearly a full term."</p> + +<p>Ulyth thought so too, and the next time she +found a suitable opportunity she tackled Rona on +the subject.</p> + +<p>"You're too nice to speak in such a queer way. +You've no idea how it spoils you," she urged. +"You could be another girl if you'd only take a +little trouble."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span></p> + +<p>"What's the use? Who minds what I'm like?" +returned the Cuckoo a trifle defiantly.</p> + +<p>"I do," said Ulyth emphatically.</p> + +<p>"Not really?"</p> + +<p>"Indeed I do. I care very much. You came +over here to be my friend, and there are many +things I want in a friend."</p> + +<p>"I didn't know you cared," replied Rona in a +softened voice. "No one ever did before—except +Dad, when he said I was a savage."</p> + +<p>"Don't you want to show him what you can +grow into?" asked Ulyth eagerly. "Think how +surprised and pleased he'll be when he sees you +again!"</p> + +<p>"There's something in that."</p> + +<p>"There's a great deal in it. I know I often make +myself do things I don't want because of Mother; +she's such a darling, and——" She stopped short, +realizing too late the mistake she was making.</p> + +<p>"I can't remember Mother," answered Rona, +turning away with a suggestive cough. "It's all +very well for you."</p> + +<p>Ulyth could have bitten her tongue out. She +said no more, for she knew her room-mate well +enough by this time to have learnt that sympathy +must be offered with the utmost discretion. The +poor Cuckoo was only too well aware of the deficiencies +in her home and upbringing, but the least +hint of them from others immediately put her on +the defensive. In her own way she was very proud, +and though there was a vast difference between +Stephanie's stinging remarks and Ulyth's well-<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span>meant +kindness, anything that savoured of compassion +wounded her dignity.</p> + +<p>The conversation brought urgently to Ulyth a +question which had been disturbing her, and which +she had persistently tried to banish from her +thoughts. Where was Rona going to spend +Christmas? So far as anyone knew she had not +a friend or relation in the British Isles. Miss +Bowes and Miss Teddington always went away +for the holidays, and The Woodlands was left in +the charge of servants. Rona could not stay at the +school, surely? Had Miss Bowes made any arrangement +for her? Ulyth vacillated for at least five +minutes, then took out her writing-case and began +a letter home.</p> + +<p> +"<span class="smcap">Best-beloved Motherkins</span>,<br /> +</p> + +<p>"I am such a nasty, horrid, selfish thing! +In every one of your letters you have hinted and +hinted and hinted that we should ask Rona for +Christmas. You wouldn't say it outright until +you were sure I wanted it. That was just the rub. +I didn't want it. I'm afraid even now I don't +quite. I've had her all the term, and I thought it +would be so blissful to be without her for four +whole weeks, and have you and Father and Oswald +and Dorothy and Peter just to myself. But oh, +Motherkins, she's such a lonely waif of a girl! +I'm so dreadfully sorry for her. She seems always +out of everything. I'm sure she's never had a +decent Christmas in her life. I believe she's fond +of her father, though I don't think he took very<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span> +much notice of her—she let out once that he was +so disappointed she wasn't a boy. But Mrs. Barker, +the housekeeper, must have been a most terrible +person. Rona had no chance at all.</p> + +<p>"Motherkins, she's never seen a real English +home, and I'd like to show her ours. Yes, I would, +although in a way she'll spoil everything. May +she sleep in the spare room, and let me have my +own to myself? I could stand it then.</p> + +<p>"Dearest darling, I really mean it; so will you +write straight off to Miss Bowes before I have time +to turn thoroughly horrid again?</p> + +<p> +"Your very loving daughter,<br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">"<span class="smcap">Ulyth</span>."</span><br /> +</p> + +<p>Having sent off the letter, and thus burnt her +boats, Ulyth accepted the situation with what +equanimity she could muster. Mrs. Stanton's invitation +arrived by return of post, and was accepted +with great relief by Miss Bowes, who had been +wondering how to dispose of her pupil during the +holidays. The Cuckoo received the news with such +pathetic glee that Ulyth's heart smote her for not +feeling more joyful herself.</p> + +<p>"Are you sure you want me?" asked Rona wistfully.</p> + +<p>"Of course we do, or we wouldn't ask you," +replied Ulyth, hoping her fib might be forgiven.</p> + +<p>"I'll try and not disgrace you," volunteered the +Cuckoo.</p> + +<p>A few days before the end of the term Rona<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span> +received a letter from New Zealand. She rushed +to Ulyth, waving it triumphantly.</p> + +<p>"Dad's sent me this," she announced, showing +a very handsome cheque. "I wrote to him three +days after I got here, and told him my clothes +looked rubbishy beside the other girls', and he +tells me to rig myself out afresh. I suppose he forgot +about it till now. How'm I going to get the +things? There isn't time to ask Miss Bowes to +send for them before the holidays. Can I buy them +at the place where you live?"</p> + +<p>"Very well indeed, and Mother will help you +to choose. I know she'll get you lovely clothes; +she has such exquisite taste! She'll just enjoy +it."</p> + +<p>"And shan't I just? I'll give away every rag I +brought with me from New Zealand. They'll come +in for that rummage sale Teddie was telling us +about."</p> + +<p>The last lesson was finished, the last exercise +written, even the last breakfast had been disposed +of. The boxes, packed with great excitement the +day before, were already dispatched, and four railway +omnibuses were waiting to take the girls to +Llangarmon Junction Station. Much to their regret, +Miss Bowes would not allow them to go by +Glanafon—the picturesque route by the ferry was +reserved for summer weather. In winter, if the day +happened to be stormy and the tide full, there was +often great difficulty in crossing, the landing-place +was muddy and slippery, and even if the train was +not missed altogether (as sometimes happened)<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span> +the small voyage was quite in the nature of an +adventure.</p> + +<p>Miss Bowes' wisdom was thoroughly justified +on this particular morning, for there was a strong +west wind, and the rain was pouring in torrents.</p> + +<p>"It would have been lovely fun in the flat. There +must be big waves on the river," declared Merle +Denham, half aggrieved at missing such an interesting +opportunity.</p> + +<p>"Why, but look at the rain! You couldn't hold +up an umbrella for half a second. It would be +blown inside out directly. You'd be as drenched +as a drowned rat before you reached the train," +preached her more prudent sister.</p> + +<p>"And suppose you were blown off the stepping-stones +into the river!" added Beth Broadway. "It +would be a nice way of beginning the holidays! +No. On a morning like this I'd rather have the +omnibus. We shall at least start dry."</p> + +<p>"I'm so glad you're taking Rona home with +you," whispered Lizzie Lonsdale to Ulyth. "I +should have asked her myself if you hadn't. It +would have been a wretched Christmas for her to +be left at school. I never saw anyone so pleased!"</p> + +<p>The Cuckoo was indeed looking radiant at the +golden prospect in store for her. Much to her surprise, +everybody had been particularly nice to her +that morning. Several girls had given her their +addresses and asked her to write to them, Miss +Bowes had been kindness itself, and even Miss +Teddington, whose conduct was generally of a +Spartan order, when bidding her good-bye in the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span> +study, had actually bestowed an abrupt peck of a +kiss, a mark of favour never before known in the +annals of the school. To be sure, she had followed +it with a warning against relapsing into loud +laughter in other people's houses; but then she +was Miss Teddington!</p> + +<p>Ulyth lived in Staffordshire, and the journey +from North Wales was tedious; but what schoolgirl +minds a long journey? To Rona all was new +and delightful, and to Ulyth every telegraph-post +meant that she was so much nearer home. The +travellers had a royal reception, and kind, tactful +Mrs. Stanton managed at once to put her young +guest at ease, and make her feel that she was a +welcome addition to the family circle. Oswald, +Ulyth's elder brother, had come from Harrow only +an hour before, and Dorothy and Peter, the two +younger children, were prancing about in utmost +enthusiasm at the exciting arrivals.</p> + +<p>"Father hasn't come in yet?" asked Ulyth, when +she had finished hugging her mother. "Well, it +will be all the bigger treat when he does. Oh, +Oswald, I didn't think you could grow so much +in a term! Dorothy, darling, don't quite choke +me! Peterkin, come and shake hands with Rona. +Toby, do stop barking for half a moment! Where's +Tabbyskins? And, please, show me the new parrot. +Oh, isn't it lovely to be at home again!"</p> + +<p>Almost the whole of the next day was spent by +Mrs. Stanton, Ulyth, and their delighted visitor in +a tour round various outfitting establishments—an +exhilarating time for Rona, who was making her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span> +first acquaintance with the glories of English shops. +Their purchases were highly satisfactory, and as +Ulyth helped her friend to dress for dinner on +Christmas Day she reviewed the result with the +utmost complacency.</p> + +<p>"Didn't I tell you Mother has good taste? Rona, +you're lovely! This pale-blue dress suits you to a T. +And the bronze slippers are so dainty; and your +hair is so pretty. You can't think how it has +improved lately."</p> + +<p>"Do I look like other girls?" asked Rona, fingering +the enamelled locket that had been given her +that morning by Mr. and Mrs. Stanton.</p> + +<p>"Rather! A great deal nicer than most. I'm +proud of you. I wish they could all see you at The +Woodlands."</p> + +<p>"I'm glad if I shan't disgrace you. What a good +thing Dad's cheque came just in time!"</p> + +<p>In her new plumage the Cuckoo appeared turned +into a tropical humming-bird. Ulyth had thought +her good-looking before, but she had not realized +that her room-mate was a beauty. She stared almost +fascinated at the vision of blue eyes, coral +cheeks, white neck, and ruddy-brown hair. Was +this indeed the same girl who had arrived at school +last September? It was like a transformation scene +in the pantomime. Clothes undoubtedly exercise +a great effect on some people, and Rona seemed to +put away her backwoods manners with her up-country +dresses. There was a dignity about her +now and a desire to please which she had never +shown at The Woodlands. She held herself<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span> +straight, walked gracefully instead of shambling, +and was careful to allow no uncouth expressions to +escape her. Her behaviour was very quiet, as if +she were watching others, or taking mental stock +of how to comport herself. If occasionally she +made some slight mistake she flushed crimson, +but she never repeated it. She was learning the +whole time, and the least gentle hint from Mrs. +Stanton was sufficient for her. Miss Teddington +need not have been afraid that the loud laugh +would offend the ears of her friends; it never rang +out once, and the high-pitched voice was subdued +to wonderfully softened tones. For her hostess +Rona evinced a species of worship. She would +follow her about the house, content simply to be +near her, and her face would light up at the +slightest word addressed to her.</p> + +<p>"The poor child just wanted a good mothering," +said Mrs. Stanton to Ulyth. "It is marvellous +how fast she is improving. You'll make something +of your little wild bird after all. She's worth +the trouble."</p> + +<p>"I'd no idea she could grow into this," replied +Ulyth. "Oh, Motherkins, you should have seen +her at first! She was a very rough diamond."</p> + +<p>"Aren't you glad to have a hand in the polishing? +It will be such a triumph."</p> + +<p>Two members of the household, at any rate, saw +no fault in the visitor. Dorothy and Peter haunted +her like small persistent ghosts, begging for stories +about New Zealand. The accounts of her life in the +bush were like a romance to them, and so fired their<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span> +enthusiasm that in the intervals of playing soldiers +they tried to emulate her adventures, and were +found with a clothes-line in the garden making +a wild attempt to lasso the much-enduring Toby.</p> + +<p>"Rona's very good-natured with them," said +Ulyth. "She doesn't mind how they pull her +about, and Peter's most exhausting sometimes. I +shouldn't like to carry him round the house on my +back. Dorothy's perfectly insatiable for stories; +it's always 'Tell us another!' How funny Oswald +is at present. He's grown so outrageously polite +all of a sudden. I suppose it's because he's in the +Sixth now. He was very different last holidays. +He's getting quite a 'lady's man'."</p> + +<p>"The young folks are growing up very fast," +commented Mr. Stanton in private. "It seems +only yesterday that Oswald and Ulyth were babies. +In another year or two we shall begin to think of +twenty-first-birthday dances."</p> + +<p>"Oh, don't talk of anything so dreadful!" said +Mrs. Stanton in consternation. "They're my +babies still. The party on Thursday is to be +quite a children's affair."</p> + +<p>Though "Motherkins" might regard the coming +festivity as entirely of a juvenile character, the +young people took it seriously. They practised +dancing on the polished linoleum of the nursery +every evening. Rona had had her first lessons +at The Woodlands, and was making heroic efforts +to remember what she had learnt.</p> + +<p>"You'll get on all right," Ulyth encouraged her. +"That last was ever so much better; you're drop<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span>ping +into it quite nicely. You dance lightly, at +any rate. Now try again with Oswald while I +play. Ossie, I'm proud of you! Last Christmas +you were a perfect duffer at it. Don't you remember +how you sat out at the Warings'? You've improved +immensely. Now go on!" and Ulyth began +to play, with her eyes alternately on the piano and +on the partners.</p> + +<p>"I suppose a fellow has to get used to 'the light +fantastic' sometime," remarked Oswald, as, after a +successful five minutes' practice, he and Rona sat +down to rest.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps you'll have to dance with princesses +at foreign Courts when you're a successful ambassador," +laughed Ulyth.</p> + +<p>"Is that what Oswald's going to be?" asked +Rona.</p> + +<p>"I'd have tried the Army or the Navy, but my +wretched eyes cut me off from both; so it's no use, +worse luck!" said Oswald. "I should like to get +into the Diplomatic Service immensely though, if +I could."</p> + +<p>"Why can't you? I should think you could do +anything you really wanted."</p> + +<p>"Thanks for the compliment. But it's not so +easy as it sounds. I wish I had a friend at Court."</p> + +<p>"We don't know anybody in the Government," +sighed Ulyth. "Not a solitary, single person. I've +never even seen a member of Parliament, except, of +course, Lord Glyncraig sometimes at church; but +then I've never spoken to him. Stephanie had tea +with him once. She doesn't let us forget that."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I wish you'd had tea with him, and happened +to mention particularly the extreme fascinations and +abilities of your elder brother," laughed Oswald.</p> + +<p>"Could Lord Glyncraig be of any use to you?" +asked Rona. She had grown suddenly thoughtful.</p> + +<p>"He could give me a nomination for the Diplomatic +Service, and that would be just the leg-up I +want. But it's no use joking; I'm not likely to get +an introduction to him. I expect I shall have to go +into business after all."</p> + +<p>"I think when I was ten I must have been the +most objectionable little imp on the face of creation," +said Rona slowly. "I am ashamed of +myself now."</p> + +<p>"Why this access of penitence for bygone +crimes?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, nothing!" replied the Cuckoo, flushing. +"I was only just thinking of something. Shall +we try that new step again? I'm rested now."</p> + +<p>"Yours to command, madam!" returned Oswald, +with a mock bow.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Rona's visit to the Stantons was a delightful +series of new impressions. She made her first +acquaintance with the pantomime, and was alternately +amused and thrilled as the story of "The +Forty Thieves" unfolded itself upon the stage. +Not even Peter watched with more round-eyed +enthusiasm, and Mr. Stanton declared it was worth +taking her for the mere pleasure of seeing her face +when Ali Baba disappeared down a trap-door. As +everything in England was fresh to her, she was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span> +a most easy guest to entertain, and she enjoyed +every separate experience—from a visit to the +public library with Mr. Stanton to toffee-making +in the nursery with Peter and Dorothy.</p> + +<p>Although it was a quiet Christmas in some +respects, friends were hospitable, and included her +in the various little invitations which were sent to +Ulyth and Oswald; so her pretty dresses had a +chance of being aired. The great event to the +young folk was the party which was to be given +at the Stantons' own house, and which was to be a +kind of finish to the holidays. The girls revelled +in every detail of preparation. They watched the +carpet being taken up in the drawing-room, the +large articles of furniture removed, and the door +taken off its hinges. They sprinkled ball-room +chalk on the boards of the floor, and slid indefatigably +until the polish satisfied Ulyth's critical taste. +They decorated the walls with flags and evergreens. +They even offered their services in the kitchen, but +met with so cool a reception from the busy cook +that they did not venture to repeat the experiment, +and consoled themselves with helping to write the +supper menus instead.</p> + +<p>"I think I've seen to everything," said Mrs. +Stanton distractedly. "The flowers, and the fairy +lamps, and the programmes, and those extra boxes +of crackers, and the chocolates, and the ring for the +trifle. You've seen about the music, Gerald?"</p> + +<p>"Violin and piano," replied Mr. Stanton. "I'm +feeling a thorough-going martyr. Giving even a +simple children's hop means sitting in rooms with<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span>out +doors and living on turkey drumsticks for a +fortnight afterwards!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, we'll get the house straight again sooner +than that! And you needn't eat grilled turkey +unless you like."</p> + +<p>"I don't appreciate parties."</p> + +<p>"We must amuse the young folks, and it isn't +a grand affair. If the children meet together they +may as well dance as play games."</p> + +<p>"Daddikins, how nasty you are!" exclaimed +Ulyth, pursuing him to administer chastisement in +the shape of smacking kisses. "You know you're +looking forward to it quite as much as we are."</p> + +<p>"That I deny <i>in toto</i>," groaned her father as he +escaped to his snuggery, only to find it arranged as +a dressing-room.</p> + +<p>Ulyth wore white for the great occasion, with her +best Venetian beads; and Rona had a palest sea-green +gauzy voile, with fine stockings and satin +shoes to match. Dorothy was a bewitching little +vision in pink, and Peter a cherub in black velvet. +Oswald, having reached the stage of real gentleman's +evening-dress, required the whole family to +assist him in the due arrangement of his tie, over +which he was more than usually particular. Ulyth +even suspected him of having tried to shave, though +he denied the accusation fiercely.</p> + +<p>It is always a solemn occasion waiting in the +drawing-room listening for the first peal of the bell +announcing visitors. Mrs. Stanton was giving a +last touch to the flowers, Ulyth sat wielding her +new fan (a Christmas present), Oswald was button<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span>ing +his gloves. Dorothy, too excited to stand +still for a moment, flitted about like a pink fairy.</p> + +<p>"I'm to stop up half an hour later than Peter, +Rona; do you hear that?" she chattered. "Oh, +I do hope the Prestons will arrive first of anybody! +I want to dance with Willie. Father let me have +a cracker just now, and it's got a whistle inside it. +I wish I had a pocket. Where shall I put it to +keep it safe? Oh, I know—inside that vase!"</p> + +<p>As she spoke, Dorothy jumped lightly on to the +seat of the cosy corner that abutted on the fireplace, +and reached upwards to drop her whistle inside the +ornament. In her excitement she slipped, tried to +save herself, lost her footing, and fell sideways over +the curb on to the hearth. Her thin, flimsy dress +was within half an inch of the fire, but at that +instant Rona, who was standing by, clutched her +and pulled her forwards. It all happened in three +seconds. She was safe before her father had time +to run across the room. The family stared aghast.</p> + +<p>"Whew! That was a near shave!" gasped +Oswald.</p> + +<p>Dorothy, too much surprised and frightened to +cry, was clinging to her mother. Mr. Stanton, +acting on the spur of the moment, rushed to the +telephone to try if any ironmonger's shop in the +town was still open, and could immediately send +up a wire-gauze fire-protector. The fireplaces in +all the other rooms were well guarded, but in the +drawing-room the hearth was so wide, and the curb +so high, that the precaution had not been considered +necessary.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span></p> + +<p>"It only shows how absolutely vital it is to leave +no chance of an accident," said Mr. Stanton, returning +from the telephone. "Matthews are sending +a boy up at once with a guard. If it hadn't +been for Rona's promptitude—— Oh, there's the +bell! Oswald, fetch your mother a glass of water."</p> + +<p>Poor Mrs. Stanton looked very pale, but had +recovered her composure sufficiently to receive her +young guests by the time they were ushered into +the drawing-room. Dorothy, child-like, forgot her +fright in the pleasure of welcoming her friends the +Prestons, and everything went on as if the accident +had not occurred. Mr. Stanton, indeed, kept a +close watch all the evening, to see that guards were +not pushed aside from the fires, and Mrs. Stanton's +eyes watched with more than usual solicitude a +certain little pink figure as it went dancing round +the room. The visitors knew nothing of the +accident that had been avoided, and there was no +check on the mirth of the party. The guests were +of all ages, from Peter's kindergarten comrades to +girls who were nearly grown-up, but it was really +all the jollier for the mixture. Tall and short +danced together with a happy disregard of inches, +and even a thorough enjoyment of the disparity. +Rona spent a royal evening. Her host and hostess +had been kindness itself before, but to-night it +seemed as if they conspired together to give her the +best of everything. She had her pick of partners, +the place of honour at supper, and—by most +egregious cheating—the ring somehow tumbled +on to her plate out of the trifle.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I'm getting spoilt," she said to Oswald.</p> + +<p>"The mater's ready to kiss your boots," he returned. +"I never saw anything so quick as the +way you snatched old Dolly."</p> + +<p>All good things come to an end some time, even +holidays, and one morning towards the end of +January witnessed a taxi at the door, and various +bags and packages, labelled Llangarmon Junction, +stowed inside.</p> + +<p>"I don't know how to thank you. I haven't any +words," gulped Rona, as she hugged "Motherkins" +good-bye.</p> + +<p>"Do your best at school, and remember certain +little things we talked about," whispered Mrs. +Stanton, kissing her. "We shall expect to see +you here again."</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em"> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</a></span> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VIII" id="CHAPTER_VIII"></a><a href="#TOC_VIII">CHAPTER VIII</a></h2> + +<h3>The "Stunt"</h3> +</div> + +<p>The general verdict on Rona, when she arrived +back at The Woodlands, was that she was wonderfully +improved.</p> + +<p>"It isn't only her dresses," said Gertrude Oliver, +"though she looks a different girl in her new +clothes; her whole style's altered. She used to be +so fearfully loud. She's really toned down in the +most amazing fashion. I couldn't have believed it +possible."</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid it's only a veneer," declared Stephanie, +with a slighting little laugh. "You'll find plenty +of raw backwoods underneath, ready to crop up +when she's off her guard. You should have heard +her this morning."</p> + +<p>"And she broke an ink-bottle," added Beth +Broadway.</p> + +<p>"Well, she's not perfect yet, of course, but I +stick to it that she's improved."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I dare say! But Ulyth's welcome to keep +her cub. She'll always be more or less of a trial. +What else can you expect? 'What's bred in the +bone will come out!'"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I'm a great believer in heredity," urged<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</a></span> +Beth, taking up the cudgels for her chum. "If +you have ancestors it gives you a decided pull."</p> + +<p>"Everybody has ancestors, you goose," corrected +Gertrude.</p> + +<p>"Well, of course I mean aristocratic ones. The +others don't count. It must make a difference +whether your grandfather was a gentleman or a +farm-boy. Rona says herself she's a democrat. +I'm sure she looked the part when she arrived."</p> + +<p>"I don't know that she exactly looks it now, +though," said Gertrude, championing Rona for +once.</p> + +<p>Everyone at the school realized that the Cuckoo +was trying to behave herself. The struggles towards +perfection were sometimes almost pathetic, +though the girls mostly viewed them from the +humorous side. She would sit up suddenly, bolt +upright, at the tea table, if Miss Bowes' eye suggested +that she was lolling; she apologized for +accidents at which she had laughed before, and +she corrected herself if a backwoods expression +escaped her.</p> + +<p>"Am I really any shakes smarter—I mean, more +toned up—than I was?" she asked Ulyth anxiously.</p> + +<p>"You're far better than you were last term. Do +go on trying, that's all!"</p> + +<p>"Will they take me as a candidate in the Camp-fire +League?"</p> + +<p>"I expect so, but we shall have to ask Mrs. +Arnold about that."</p> + +<p>Since the great reunion by the stream in September +there had been no meetings of the Camp-fire<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</a></span> +League. Mrs. Arnold had been ill, and then had +gone away to recruit her health, and no one was +able to take her place as "Guardian of the Fire". +She was recovered now, and at home again, and +had promised to help to make up for lost time by +superintending a gathering at the beginning of the +new term. It was to be held in the big hall of the +school, though the girls begged hard to have it out-of-doors, +pleading that on a fine evening they could +keep perfectly warm, and it would only resemble a +Fifth of November affair.</p> + +<p>"That may be all very well for you, but I'm not +going to risk Mrs. Arnold's catching cold," returned +Miss Bowes; which argument put a final +stop to the idea.</p> + +<p>"We'll have ripping fun in the hall, if we can't +be outside," beamed Addie. "I always enjoy a +stunt."</p> + +<p>"What's a stunt?" asked Rona.</p> + +<p>"A stunt? Why, it's just a stunt!"</p> + +<p>"It's an American word," explained Lizzie. "It +means just having any fun that comes. An impromptu +kind of thing, you know. We sing, or +recite, or act, or dance, on the spur of the moment—anything +to keep the ball rolling, and anybody +may be called upon at any moment to stand up and +perform."</p> + +<p>"Without knowing beforehand?" queried Rona, +looking horror-stricken.</p> + +<p>"Yes, that's the fun of it. We have a bag with +all our names written on slips of paper, and we +draw them out one by one to fill up the programme.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</a></span> +Nobody knows who's to come next. You may be +the very first, or you may sit quaking all the evening, +and never be called at all."</p> + +<p>"I hope to goodness—I mean, I hope very much—I +shan't be drawn."</p> + +<p>"You never know; so you'd better have something +in your mind's eye."</p> + +<p>Punctually at six o'clock on the appointed night +the whole school filed into the hall, each girl +carrying a candle in a candlestick. Saluting their +leader, they ranged themselves round the room for +the opening ceremony. At an indoor meeting this +was of necessity different from the kindling of the +camp-fire, but it had a certain impressiveness of its +own. First the lamps were extinguished, and the +room was placed in entire darkness. Then Mrs. +Arnold struck a match and lighted her candle, +which she held towards the Torch-bearer of highest +rank, who lighted hers from it, and performed the +same service for her next neighbour. In this way, +one after another, the candles were lighted all round +the room, every girl saying, as she offered the flame +to her comrade: "I pass on my light!" After the +"shining" song was sung, all the candlesticks were +arranged on the large central table, taking the place +the camp-fire would have occupied out-of-doors.</p> + +<p>The business of the meeting came first, the roll-call +was read, and the recorders gave their reports +of the last gathering. Several members were +awarded honours for knowing the stars, being able +to observe certain things in geology and field +botany, or for ability in outdoor sports or indoor<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</a></span> +occupations, such as carpentry, stencilling, or sewing. +The ambulance work and the knitting done +last term were specially noted and commended. A +few new candidates applied for enrolment, and their +qualifications were carefully considered by the +Guardian of the Fire. Rona, after undergoing the +League Catechism from Catherine Sullivan, the +head girl and chief Torch-bearer, had submitted her +name as candidate, and now waited with much +anxiety to hear whether she would be accepted. +After several others had been admitted, Mrs. Arnold +at last called:</p> + +<p>"Corona Margarita Mitchell."</p> + +<p>Quite startled at the unaccustomed sound of her +full Christian name, Rona saluted and stepped +forward.</p> + +<p>"You have passed only three out of the seven +tests required," said Mrs. Arnold. "I'm afraid you +will have to try again, Rona, and see if you can be +more successful before the next meeting. No candidate +can be accepted except on very good grounds. +That is the law of the League."</p> + +<p>Much crestfallen, the Cuckoo fell back into her +place, and Mrs. Arnold was just about to read the +next name when Ulyth interrupted:</p> + +<p>"Please, Guardian, if a candidate has shown +unusual presence of mind, may that not stand in +place of some of the other tests?"</p> + +<p>"It depends on the circumstances. How does +that apply in this case?"</p> + +<p>"Rona has saved a life," declared Ulyth, then +explained briefly how Dorothy had fallen on to the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</a></span> +hearth and had been caught back from the fire in +the very nick of time.</p> + +<p>"In her thin dress she would probably have been +burnt to death but for Rona's quickness," added +Ulyth, with a tremble in her voice.</p> + +<p>"I had not heard of this," replied Mrs. Arnold. +"Rona is very greatly to be congratulated on her +presence of mind. Yes, I may safely say that it can +cancel the tests in which she has failed, and that we +may enrol her to-night as a candidate. Corona +Margarita Mitchell, if for three months you preserve +a good character in the school, and learn to recite +the seven rules of the Camp-fire Law, you may +then present yourself as eligible for the initial rank +of Wood-gatherer in the League. There is your +Candidate's Badge."</p> + +<p>Immensely gratified, Rona received her little bow +of blue ribbon. She had hardly dared to hope for +success, as Catherine had been rather withering +over her Catechism, and had warned her that she +would probably be disqualified. It was pleasant to +meet with encouragement, and especially to be commended +before the whole school. She had never +dreamt of such luck, and she looked her grateful +thanks at Ulyth across the room.</p> + +<p>She was the last but one on the list of applicants, +and when Jessie Howard (alas, poor Jessie!) had +been rejected the ceremonial part of the meeting +was over. The girls smiled, for now the "stunt" +was to begin. Catherine produced the bag, shook +it well, and handed it to Mrs. Arnold, who drew +out a slip of paper.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Marjorie Earnshaw!" she announced.</p> + +<p>"Glad it's one of the Sixth to open the ball," +murmured some of the younger girls as Marjorie +stepped to the circle reserved for performers in front +of the table.</p> + +<p>The owner of the one guitar in the school was +always much in request at Camp-fire gatherings, +so it seemed a fortunate chance that her name should +be drawn first. She had brought her instrument, +so as to be prepared in case the lot fell on her, and +giving the E string a last hurried tuning she sat +down and began a popular American ditty. It was +a favourite among the girls, for it had a lively, rollicking +chorus, which they sang with great gusto. +Fifty voices roaring out: "Don't forget your Dinah!" +seemed to break the ice and set the fun going.</p> + +<p>Marjorie's E string snapped suddenly, but she +played as best she could on the others, though she +confessed afterwards that she felt like a horse that +has lost its shoe. Except for this accident she +would have responded to the enthusiastic calls of +"Encore!"; as it was, she retired into the background +to fix a new string. It lent a decided element +of excitement to the programme that nobody +knew what the next item was to be. The lot, as it +happened, fell on one of the younger girls, who was +overwhelmed with shyness and could only with +great urging be persuaded to recite a short piece of +poetry. By the law of the Stunt everybody was +obliged to perform if called upon, so Aveline fired +off her sixteen lines of Longfellow with breathless +speed, and fled back joyfully to the ranks of the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</a></span> +Juniors. Two piano solos and a step-dance followed, +then the turn came to Doris Deane, a member of +the Upper Fifth. Doris's speciality was acting, so +she promptly begged for two assistants, and chose +from IV <span class="smcap">b</span> a couple of junior members who had +practised with her before. Taking Nellie and +Trissie for "Asia" and "Australia", she gave the +scene from <i>Mrs. Wiggs of the Cabbage Patch</i> +where that delightful but haphazard heroine gets +herself and the children ready to go to the opera. +The zeal with which she ironed their dresses, her +alternate scoldings and cajolings, her wild hunt for +the tickets, which all the while were stuck in her +belt, the grandeur of her deportment when the +family was at last prepared for the outing, all were +most amusingly represented. Doris was really a +born actress, and so completely carried her audience +with her that the lack of costumes and scenery was +not felt in the force of the reality that she managed +to throw into her part. Covered with glory, she +gave place to her successor, who, while bewailing +the hardness of her luck in having to follow so +smart a performance, recited a humorous ballad +which won peals of applause. Mrs. Arnold again +dipped her hand into the bag and unfolded a twist +of paper.</p> + +<p>"Corona M. Mitchell," she read.</p> + +<p>"Not me, surely! I can't do anything," objected +Rona hastily.</p> + +<p>"You'll have to," laughed the girls. "No one's +let off."</p> + +<p>"I can't, I tell you. I've no parlour tricks."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Give us a story, Rona," suggested Ulyth. +"One of those New Zealand adventures you used +to tell to Peter and Dorothy. They loved them."</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes! A camp-fire story. That would be +spiffing!" clamoured the girls. "Sit on the floor, +near the fire, and we'll all squat near you. We +haven't had a story for ages and ages!"</p> + +<p>"Tell it just as you did at home," urged Ulyth.</p> + +<p>"I'll try my best," sighed Rona, taking a small +stool near the fire, so as to be slightly above the +audience clustered round the hearthrug.</p> + +<p>"It happened about a year ago," she began; +"that's summer-time in New Zealand, you know, +because the seasons are just opposite. It was +Pamela Higson's birthday, and I'd been asked to +go over for the day. I saddled Brownie, my best +pony, and started at seven, because it's a twelve-mile +ride to the Higsons' farm, and I wanted to be +early so as to have time for plenty of fun. Brownie +was fresh, and he wasn't tired when I got there, so +we decided to give him an hour's rest and then ride +up into the bush and have a picnic. Pamela showed +me her birthday presents while we waited. She'd +had a box sent her by the mail, and she was very +delighted about it.</p> + +<p>"Well, at perhaps eleven o'clock I set off with +Pamela and the rest of the Higson children. There +was Jake, just my own age, and Billy, a little +younger, and Connie and Minnie, the two smallest. +Oh yes, we each had our own horse or pony: +Everybody rides out there. We slung baskets and +tin cans over our saddles and then started up by<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</a></span> +the dry bed of the river towards the head of the +gully. It was very hot (January's like July here), +but we all had big hats and we didn't care. It was +such fun to be together. When your nearest neighbours +are twelve miles off you don't see them often +enough to get tired of them. Billy was always +making jokes, and Jake was jolly too in a quiet +kind of way. Sometimes we could all ride abreast, +and sometimes we had to go in single file, and our +horses seemed to enjoy it as much as we did. +Brownie loved company, so it was a treat for him +as well as for me. The place we were going to was +a piece of high land that lay at the top of the valley +above the Higsons' block. There were generally +plenty of berries up there, and we thought they'd +just be ripe. It took us a fairly long time to do the +climb, because there was no proper road, only a +rough track. It was lovely, though, when we got +up; we had a splendid view down the gully, and +the air was so much cooler and fresher than it had +been at the farm. We tethered our horses and +gathered scrub to make a fire and boil our kettle. +In New Zealand no one thinks of having a meal +without drinking tea with it. We'd the jolliest picnic. +The Higsons were famous for their cakes, and +they'd brought plenty with them. I can tell you +we didn't leave very many in the baskets.</p> + +<p>"'Best put out our camp-fire,' Jake said when +we'd finished; so we all set to work and stamped it +out carefully. Everything was so dry with the heat +that a spark might easily have set fire to the bush. +Then we took our cans and went off to find berries.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</a></span> +There were heaps of them; so we just picked and +picked and picked for ever so long. Suddenly, +when we were talking, we heard a noise and looked +round. There was a stampede among the horses, +and two of them, Billy's and Connie's, had broken +loose and were careering down the gully. We ran +as quick as lightning to the others for fear they +might also free themselves and follow. I caught +Brownie by the bridle and soothed him as well as +I could; but he was very excited and trembling, +and kept sniffing. Then I saw what had frightened +him, for a puff of wind brought a puff of smoke with +it, and ahead of us I saw a dark column whirl up +towards the sky. Even the youngest child who's +lived in the bush knows what that means. When +all the grass and everything is so dry, the least +thing will start a fire. Sometimes campers-out are +careless, and the wind blows sparks; sometimes +even a piece of an old bottle left lying about will +act as a burning-glass. We didn't inquire the +reason; all we knew was that we must tear back to +the farm as rapidly as we could. Bush fires spread +fearfully fast, and this one would probably sweep +straight down the gorge.</p> + +<p>"With two animals gone, luck was against us. +Billy took Minnie's pony, Connie mounted behind +Jake, and I made Minnie come with me on Brownie, +because he was so strong, and better able to bear +the double burden than Pamela's horse. It was +well for us we were good riders, for we pelted down +that gully fit to break our necks. Brownie was a +sure-footed little beast, but the way he went slither<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</a></span>ing +over rocks would have scared me if I hadn't +been more afraid of the fire behind. We knew it +would be touch and go whether we could save the +farm or not. If the men were all far away there +would be very little chance, though we meant to do +our level best.</p> + +<p>"Well, as I was saying, we just stampeded down +the gully, and our horses kept their feet somehow. +I guess we arrived at the house like a tornado. +We yelled out our news, and coo-eed to some of +the men we could see working in the distance. +They came running at once, and Mrs. Higson sent +up the rocket that was used on the farm as a danger-signal. +Fortunately the rest of the men had only +gone a short way. They were back almost directly, +and everybody set to work to make a wide ring of +bare land round the farm. They cut down trees, +and threw up earth, and burnt a great patch of +grass, and we children helped too for all we were +worth. We were only just in time. We could see +the great cloud of smoke coming down the valley, +and as it grew nearer we heard the roaring or the +fire. It seemed to bear down on us suddenly in +a great burning sheet. For a moment or two the +air was so hot that we could scarcely breathe, then +the flame struck our ring of bare land, and parted +in two and passed on either side of us, leaving the +farm as an island. We watched it go crackling +farther down the valley, till at last it spent itself in +a rocky creek where it had nothing to feed on. All +the place it had passed over was burnt to cinders, +a horrible black mass. Only the house and the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</a></span> +buildings and a few fields round them were untouched. +It was an awful birthday for poor +Pamela."</p> + +<p>"Was your own farm hurt?" asked the girls +breathlessly, as Rona paused in her story.</p> + +<p>"Not at all. You see it was in quite a different +valley, and the fire hadn't been near. Jake rode +home with me, to make sure I was safe. Dad +hadn't even seen the smoke."</p> + +<p>"Suppose you hadn't noticed the fire when you +were up in the hills?"</p> + +<p>"Then we should have been burnt to cinders, +farm and all."</p> + +<p>"I think Rona's most thrilling adventure will +have to end our Stunt," said Mrs. Arnold. "It's +nearly eight o'clock. Time to wind up and get +ready for supper. Attention, please! Each girl +take her candle. Where's our pianist? Torch-bearer +Catherine, will you start the Good-night +Song?"</p> + +<p>"I'm a candidate now, thanks to you!" exulted +Rona to Ulyth; "perhaps by Easter I may be a +Wood-gatherer!"</p> + +<p>"It's something to work for, isn't it?" said +Mrs. Arnold, who happened to overhear</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em"> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</a></span> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IX" id="CHAPTER_IX"></a><a href="#TOC_IX">CHAPTER IX</a></h2> + +<h3>A January Picnic</h3> +</div> + +<p>Winter in the Craigwen Valley, instead of proving +a dreary season of frost or fog, was apt to be as +variable as April. Sheltered by the tall mountains, +the climate was mild, and though snow would lie +on the peaks of Penllwyd and Cwm Dinas it rarely +rested on the lower levels. Very early in January +the garden at The Woodlands could boast brave +clumps of snowdrops and polyanthus, a venturous +wallflower or two, and quite a show of yellow +jessamine over the south porch. The glade by +the stream never seemed to feel the touch of winter. +Many of the oak-trees kept their brown leaves till +the new ones came to replace them, honeysuckle +trails and brambles continually put out verdant +shoots, the lastrea ferns that grew near the brink of +the water showed tall green fronds untouched by +frost, and the moss was never more vivid. The +glen, indeed, had a special beauty in winter-time, for +the bare boughs of the alders took exquisite tender +shades of purples and greys, warming into amber +in the sunshine, and defying the cunningest brush +which artist could wield to do them justice. By +the middle of January the tightly rolled lambs' tails<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</a></span> +on the hazels were unfolding themselves and beginning +to scatter pollen, and a few stray specimens +of last summer's flowers, a belated campion +or hawkweed, would struggle out from the +rough grass under a protecting gorse-bush. The +days varied: rain, the penalty for living near +mountains, often swept down the valley, bringing +glorious cloud-effects, and sending the stream +swirling over its boulders with a boom of myriad +voices. Sometimes the sudden swelling of its tributaries +made the Craigwen River overtop its banks, +flooding the low-lying meadows till, augmented +by the high tide, its waters filled the valley from +end to end like a lake. This occasional flooding +of the marsh was good for the fields, and ensured +a rich hay-crop next summer, so the school felt it +could enjoy the picturesque aspect without needing +to deplore loss to the farmers.</p> + +<p>On the 21st of January Miss Teddington had a +birthday. She would have suppressed the fact altogether +if possible, or treated it in quite a surreptitious +and off-hand fashion, but with her autograph +plainly written in forty-nine separate birthday-books +the Fates were against her. She was obliged +to receive the united congratulations of the school, +to accept, with feigned surprise, the present which +was offered her, and to say a few appropriate words +of appreciation and thanks. She did not do it well, +for her manner was always abrupt, and even +verged on the ungracious, the greatest contrast to +the bland and tactful utterances of Miss Bowes.</p> + +<p>This year the annual ceremony was gone through<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</a></span> +as usual: Catherine, as head girl, proffered the +good wishes and the volume of Carlyle; Lucy +Morris, on behalf of the Nature Study Union, +handed a bouquet of polyanthus, rosemary, periwinkle, +pansies, and pink daisies culled from the +garden, the earliness of which Miss Teddington +remarked upon, as though she had not watched +their progress for the last week.</p> + +<p>"I'm very much obliged to you all," she said +jerkily, looking nevertheless as if she were longing +to bolt for the door.</p> + +<p>But she was not yet to make her escape. There +was another time-honoured ceremony to be observed. +All eyes were turned to Miss Bowes, who +rose as usual to the occasion.</p> + +<p>"I think, girls," she said pleasantly, "that, considering +it is Miss Teddington's birthday, we ought +to take some special notice of the occasion. Suppose +we ask her to grant a holiday, so that we may +make an expedition in her honour. Who votes for +this?"</p> + +<p>Forty-nine hands were instantly raised, and forty-nine +voices cried "I do!" Miss Teddington, who +utterly disapproved of odd holidays during term-time, +submitted with what grace she could muster, +and gave a rather chilly assent, which was immediately +drowned in a storm of clapping. The girls, +who always suspected the Principals of an annual +argument on the subject, felt they had scored for +this year at any rate, and were certainly one holiday +to the good.</p> + +<p>There was no question at all as to where they<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</a></span> +should walk. Every 21st January, weather permitting, +they turned their steps in the same direction. +On certain portions of the marsh, near the +river, grew fields of wild snowdrops, and to go +snowdropping before February set in was as much +an institution as turning their money when they +first heard the cuckoo, or wishing at the sight of +the earliest white butterfly. As a matter of fact, +though the delicate fiction of asking for the holiday +was preserved, it was such a <i>sine qua non</i> that the +cook was prepared for it. She had baked jam tartlets +and made potted meat the day before, and was +already cutting sandwiches and packing them in +greaseproof paper. Every girl at The Woodlands +possessed a basket, just as she owned a penknife or +a French dictionary. It was equally indispensable. +She would carry out her lunch in it, and bring it +back filled with flowers, berries, or nature specimens, +as the case might be. Each was labelled +with the owner's name, and hung in a big cupboard +under the stairs. Some of the girls also used +walking-sticks with crooked handles, which were +found convenient weapons for hooking down +brambles or branches of catkins.</p> + +<p>Shortly after ten o'clock the school started, every +Woodlander bearing her basket, containing sandwiches, +two tartlets, an orange, and a small +enamelled drinking-mug. There were to be no +camp-fires to-day, so cold water from the stream +would have to suffice, and would make tea all the +more welcome when they returned home. It was +quite a fine morning, with sudden gleams of sunshine<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</a></span> +that burst from the clouds and spread in +long, slanting, golden rays over the valley; just +the kind of sky the early masters of landscape +painting loved to put in their pictures, with a +background of neutral tint and a bright, scraped-out +light in the foreground. The little solitary farms +stood out white here and there against the green +of the fields, the pine-trees on the hill-sides showed +darkly in contrast to the bare larches. Cwm Dinas +was inky purple to-day, but Penllwyd was capped +with snow. Miss Bowes, who was not a good +walker, had not ventured to join the expedition, +but Miss Teddington strode along at the head of +the party, chatting to some of the Sixth Form.</p> + +<p>"I'm sure she's wishing she were giving a Latin +lesson instead," said Lizzie Lonsdale. "She looks +rather grim."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps she's remembering she's a year older +to-day," returned Beth Broadway.</p> + +<p>"How old is she, do you think?" giggled Addie +Knighton.</p> + +<p>"That, my child, is a secret that will never be +divulged. I dare say you'd like to know?"</p> + +<p>"I should, immensely."</p> + +<p>"Then you won't be gratified, unless you go to +Somerset House and hunt her name up in the +register of births. Even then you'd find it difficult, +for you don't know her Christian name, only her +initial."</p> + +<p>"Yes; she never will write more than 'M. Teddington' +in anybody's birthday-book. M might +stand for Mary or Martha or Margaret or Milli<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</a></span>cent +or anything. Doesn't even Miss Bowes +know?"</p> + +<p>"If she does she won't tell. It's a state-secret."</p> + +<p>"Well, never mind; we call her Teddie, and +that will do."</p> + +<p>Many were the ingenious devices which the girls +had adopted for trying to find out both Miss +Teddington's Christian name and her age. They +spoke of historic events that had happened before +their parents had been born, fondly hoping she +might betray some memory of them and commit +herself. But she was not to be caught; she treated +all events, however recent or old, from a purely +impersonal standpoint, and left them still in the +dark as to whether she was an infant in arms at +the time or an adult able to enjoy the newspapers. +On the subject of names she was indifferent, and +would express no opinion on the relative merits of +Mary, Martha, Margaret, Millicent, Marion, Muriel, +Mona, or Maud.</p> + +<p>"It's either plain Mary, or something so fearfully +fancy she won't own up to it," decided the +girls.</p> + +<p>In whatever decade Miss Teddington's birthday +placed her, this year she was certainly in the prime +of life and energy as concerned the school. Her +keen eyes noticed everything, and woe betide the +slacker who thought to escape her, and dared +bring an unprepared lesson to class. Her sarcasms +on such occasions made her victims writhe, +though they were apt to be witty enough to amuse<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</a></span> +the rest of the form. Though, like John Gilpin's +wife, she was on pleasure bent to-day, she never +for a moment forgot she was in charge, and kept +turning to see that everybody was following, and +nobody straggling far off in the rear.</p> + +<p>It was a three-mile walk from The Woodlands to +the snowdrop meadows—first along the high road, +with an occasional short cut across a field or through +a spinney, then down a deep, narrow lane past a +farm, where the sight of a new-born lamb (the first +of the season) caused great excitement. Some of +the girls, who loved old superstitions, pretended to +divine their luck by whether it was standing facing +them or otherwise when they first caught a glimpse +of it; but, the general verdict deciding that it was +exactly sideways, they found it impossible to give +any accurate predictions for the future.</p> + +<p>"You'd better keep to something vague that can +be construed two ways, like the Delphic Oracle or +<i>Old Moore's Almanac</i>," laughed Ulyth.</p> + +<p>Once past the farm the walk began to grow +specially interesting. The deep lane, only intended +for use in summer, when carts brought +loads of hay from the marsh, was turned by winter +rains into the bed of a stream. The girls picked +their way at first along the bank, then by jumping +from stone to stone, but finally the water grew so +deep it was impossible to proceed farther without +wading. They had been in the same emergency +before, so it did not daunt their enthusiasm. One +and all they scaled the high, wide, loosely built +wall to their left. Here they could walk as on a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</a></span> +terrace, with the flooded lane on one side and on +the other the rushing Porth Powys stream, making +its hurrying way to join the Craigwen River. It +was not at all an easy progress, for the wall was +overgrown with hazel bushes and a tangle of +brambles, and its unmortared surface had deep +holes, into which the unwary might put a foot. +For several hundred yards they struggled on, decidedly +to the detriment of their clothing, and +rather encumbered by their baskets; then at last +they reached the particular corner they were seeking, +and scrambled down into the meadow.</p> + +<p>This field was such a favourite with the girls +that they had come to regard it almost as their own +property. Miss Teddington had found it out many +years ago, and its discovery was always considered +a point in her roll of merit. It was an expanse of +grassy land, bounded on one side by the Porth +Powys stream and on the other by a deep dyke, +and leading down over a rushy tract to the reed-grown +banks of the river. The view over the +many miles of marshland, with the blue mountains +rising up behind and the silvery gleam of the river, +was superb. The brown, quivering, feathery reeds +made a glorious foreground for the amber and +vivid green of the banks farther on; and the gorgeous +sky effects of rolling clouds, glinting sun, +and patches of bluest heaven were like the beginning +of one of St. John's visions.</p> + +<p>Near at hand, dotted all over the field, bloomed +the wild snowdrops in utmost profusion, with a +looser habit of growth, a longer stalk, and a wider<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</a></span> +flower than the garden variety. Lovely pure-white +blossoms, with their tiny green markings, they +stood like fairy bells among the grass, so dainty +and perfect, it seemed almost a sacrilege to disturb +them. The girls, however, were not troubled with +any such scruples, and set to work to pick in hot +haste.</p> + +<p>"I'm going down by the stream," said Ulyth; +"one gets far the best there if one hunts about, and +I brought my stick."</p> + +<p>Rona, Addie and Lizzie joined her, and with +considerable difficulty scrambled down to the +water's edge. For those who preferred quality to +quantity, and who did not mind getting torn by +briers, this was undoubtedly the place to come. +In pockets of fine river-sand, their roots stretching +into the stream, grew the very biggest and finest +of the snowdrops. Most of them peeped through a +very tangle of brambles; but who minded scratched +arms and torn sleeves to secure such treasures?</p> + +<p>"Look at these. The stalks must be nine inches +long, and the flower's nearly as big as a Lent lily," +exulted Ulyth. "I shall send them to Mother, with +some hazel catkins and some lovely moss."</p> + +<p>"Everybody will be sending away boxes to-night," +said Addie. "The postman will have a +load."</p> + +<p>"What's that?" cried Lizzie, for a sudden rush +and scuffle sounded on the other side of the +stream, a rat leaped wildly from the bank, and +a shaved poodle half jumped, half fell after it into +the water.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</a></span></p> + +<p>The rat was gone in an eighth of a second, but +the dog found himself in difficulties. It was a case +of "look before you leap", and a fat, wheezy, French +poodle is not at home in a quick-rushing stream.</p> + +<p>"Oh, the poor little beast's drowning!" exclaimed +Ulyth in horror.</p> + +<p>Rona, with extreme promptitude, had flown to +the rescue. Close by where they stood the trunk +of a half-fallen alder stretched out over the water. +It was green and slippery, and anything but an +inviting bridge, but she crawled along it somehow, +and, clinging with one hand, contrived to reach the +dog's collar with the other and hold him up. What +she would have done next it is impossible to say, +for he was too heavy to lift in her already precarious +position; but at that moment a gentleman, +evidently in quest of his pet, parted the hazel +boughs and took in the situation at a glance.</p> + +<p>"Hold hard a moment," he called, and, scrambling +down the bank, managed to make a long arm +and hook his stick into the poodle's collar and drag +the almost strangled creature to shore.</p> + +<p>Until Rona had cautiously wriggled round on +the bough, and crept back safely, the spectators +watched in considerable anxiety. They need not +have been alarmed, however, for after her many +New Zealand experiences she thought this a very +poor affair.</p> + +<p>The owner of the dog shouted his thanks from +the opposite bank of the stream and disappeared +behind the high hedge. The whole episode had +not taken five minutes.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Do you know who that was? It was Lord +Glyncraig," said Addie in rather awestruck tones.</p> + +<p>"Was it? Well, I'm sure I don't care," returned +Rona a trifle defiantly. "I'd have saved John +Jones's dog quite as readily."</p> + +<p>"What a pity he didn't ask your name! He +might have invited you to tea at Plas Cafn, then +you'd have scored over Stephie no end."</p> + +<p>"I'm sure I don't want to go to tea at Plas Cafn, +thank you," snapped Rona, rather out of temper.</p> + +<p>"But think of the fun of it," persisted Addie. +"I only wish they'd ask me."</p> + +<p>"They won't ask any of us, so what's the use +of talking?" said Lizzie. "Let's go back to the +others; it must be time for lunch."</p> + +<p>They found the rest of the girls seated on the +wall, as being the driest spot available, and already +attacking their packets of sandwiches. Some had +even reached the jam-tartlet stage.</p> + +<p>"It's a good thing we've each got our own +private basket, or there wouldn't be much left for +you," shouted Mary Acton. "Where have you +been all this while?"</p> + +<p>"Consorting with members of the Peerage," +said Addie airily. "Oh yes, my dear girl! We've +had quite what you might call a confidential talk +down by the stream with Lord Glyncraig."</p> + +<p>"Not really?" asked Stephanie, pricking up her +ears.</p> + +<p>"Really and truly! He's not your special property +any longer. Rona has quite supplanted +you."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I don't believe it. You're ragging." Stephanie +was rather pink and indignant.</p> + +<p>"Ask the others, if you want to know."</p> + +<p>No one was particularly sorry to take a rest after +all the scrambling. The lunch tasted good out-of-doors, +and the last tartlet had soon disappeared. +Rona, perched on a tree-stump, began her orange, +and tossed long yellow strands of peel on to the +bank below her.</p> + +<p>"Oh, stop that, before Teddie catches you!" +urged Ulyth; but she was too late, for Miss Teddington +had already spied the offending pieces.</p> + +<p>"Who threw those?" she demanded. "Then, +Rona Mitchell, you ought to be ashamed of yourself. +Go and pick them up at once, and put them +inside your basket. What do you think the field +will look like if more than fifty people strew it with +orange-peel and sandwich-paper! We don't come +here to spoil the beautiful spots we have been enjoying. +I should be utterly disgraced if the school +behaved like a party of cheap-trippers. Woodlanders +ought to respect all natural scenery. I +thought you would have learnt that by this time, +but it appears you haven't. Don't forget it again."</p> + +<p>Much crushed, Rona collected the peel, and, +wrapping it carefully in her piece of sandwich-paper, +put it in the very bottom of her basket, +under a layer of catkins. The girls had brought +bobbins of thread with them, and were making their +snowdrops into little bunches, with ivy leaves and +lambs'-tails from the hazel. A few lucky explorers +had even found some palm opening on the sallows.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</a></span> +Several had nature notes to contribute. Nellie +Barlow and Gladys Broughton had seen a real +weasel, and plumed themselves accordingly, till +Evie Isherwood capped their story by producing +the remains of a last year's chaffinch's nest she had +found in a tree.</p> + +<p>"If I said I'd seen a snake, should I be believed?" +whispered Rona.</p> + +<p>"Certainly not. Everyone knows that snakes +hibernate; so don't try it on," returned Ulyth, +laughing.</p> + +<p>"Half-past two. We must be going back at +once, girls, or there won't be time to send off your +snowdrops," said Miss Teddington. "Pack your +baskets and come along."</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em"> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</a></span> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_X" id="CHAPTER_X"></a><a href="#TOC_X">CHAPTER X</a></h2> + +<h3>Trespassers Beware!</h3> +</div> + +<p>The girls left the snowdrop field with reluctance, +though they realized the necessity for hurry. Nearly +everyone wished to dispatch her spoils home, and +unless the boxes were sent very early to the post-office +the chances were that there would not be time +for the postmaster to stamp them officially, and that +they might languish somewhere in the background +of the village shop until next day, and consequently +arrive at their destination in an utterly withered +condition.</p> + +<p>The school scrambled back along the top of the +wall, therefore, with what haste the brambles and +hazel-bushes allowed them, splashed recklessly +among the pools of the flooded lane, and regained +the high road with quite record speed. Ulyth, +walking with Lizzie Lonsdale, had left Rona in +the rear. Rona, owing to her intimacy with Ulyth, +tried to tag on to V <span class="smcap">b</span>, often receiving snubs from +some of its members. Her own form-mates were +all considerably younger than herself. At first +they had teased her shamelessly, but since the +Christmas holidays, recognizing that she was gaining +a more established position in the school, they<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</a></span> +had begun to treat her more mercifully. Some of +them were really rather jolly children, and though +twelve seems young to fourteen, the poor Cuckoo +was still a lonely enough bird to welcome any +crumbs of friendship thrown in her way.</p> + +<p>At the present moment Winnie Fowler and +Hattie Goodwin were clinging to her arms, one on +either side. Their motives, I fear, were a trifle +mixed. They found Rona amusing and liked her +company, but also they were tired and found if +they dragged a little she would pull them along +without remonstrance.</p> + +<p>"My shoes are ever so wet," boasted Winnie. +"I plumped down deep in the lane, and the water +went right through the laces at the top. It squelches +as I walk. I feel like a soldier in the trenches."</p> + +<p>"I've torn my coat in three places," said Hattie, +not to be outdone. "It will be a nice little piece +of work for Mrs. Johnson to mend it."</p> + +<p>"Glad they don't make us mend our own coats +here," grunted Winnie.</p> + +<p>"Miss Bowes would be ashamed to see me in it +if I did," Hattie chuckled, "but I've knitted a whole +sock since Christmas, and turned the heel too. +Cuckoo, aren't you tired?"</p> + +<p>"Not a scrap," replied Rona, who was stumping +along sturdily in spite of her encumbrances.</p> + +<p>"Well, I am. I wish it wasn't three miles back."</p> + +<p>"It's not more than two as the crow flies."</p> + +<p>"But we're not crows, and we can't fly, and there +are no aeroplanes to give us a lift. We've got to +tramp, tramp, tramp along the hard high road.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</a></span> +I begin to sympathize with Tommies on the +march."</p> + +<p>"Why need we stick to the high road?" said +Rona, pausing suddenly. "If we struck across +country we'd save a mile or more. Look, The +Woodlands is over there, and if we made a beeline +for it we'd cut off all that enormous round by +Cefn Mawr. Who's game to try?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I am, if we can dodge Teddie!"</p> + +<p>"Likewise this child," added Winnie.</p> + +<p>"Oh, we'll dodge Teddie right enough! It will +be good scouting practice," chuckled Rona. "Sit +down on that stone and tie your shoelace, and we'll +wait for you while the others go on; then we'll +bolt through that gate and over the wall into the +next field."</p> + +<p>The idea that it was scouting practice lent a +vestige of sanction to the proceeding. Winnie +took the hint, and adjusted her shoelaces with +elaborate care and deliberation.</p> + +<p>"Don't be all day over that," said Miss Teddington, +who passed by but did not wait.</p> + +<p>The moment she was round the corner of the +road, and the high hedge screened her from view, +the three deserters were through the gate and running +across the field. They scaled a wall without +much difficulty, and found themselves on a wide +gorse-grown pasture. Though they could not now +see the chimneys of The Woodlands in the distance, +there were other landmarks quite sufficient +to guide them. They plodded on cheerfully.</p> + +<p>"It would be prime to have our snowdrops all<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</a></span> +packed up before the others got back," ventured +Hattie. "They'd be so surprised. They'd wonder +how we'd stolen a march on them."</p> + +<p>"If Teddie asks where we were, we can truly say +'at the front'," Winnie giggled.</p> + +<p>"You'd better not pick up any nature specimens, +though, or she'll want to know 'the exact +locality' where you found them."</p> + +<p>"Um—yes! That might be awkward. This +toadstool shall stay on its native heath, in case it +tells tales."</p> + +<p>It was rather a fascinating walk, all amongst the +gorse-bushes. None of the three had been there +before, and instinctively the younger ones left Rona +to lead the way. Her bump of locality had been +well developed in New Zealand, so she strode on +with confidence. But the ground shelved down +suddenly, revealing a natural feature upon which +they had not counted, a fairly wide brook, running +between sandy banks. Here indeed was an obstacle. +Winnie and Hattie stared at it with blank +faces and groaned.</p> + +<p>"We'd forgotten the wretched Llanelwyn stream. +What atrocious luck! Don't believe there's the +ghost of a bridge anywhere. Shall we have to go +back?"</p> + +<p>"I'm not going back," declared Rona sturdily. +"There must be some way of getting over it some +where. Come along and we'll prospect."</p> + +<p>"Oh, for the wings of a dove!" sighed Hattie. +"Even those of the raggedest sparrow would be +welcome."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Better wish yourself a fish, for you may have +to try swimming," grunted Winnie.</p> + +<p>"I can't swim—not a stroke! You'll suggest I +shall jump it next, I suppose. Look here, we shall +have to go back. There's nothing else for it. +Rona! Corona Mitchell! Corona Margarita! +Cuckoo! Where've you gone to?"</p> + +<p>"Coo—ee!" came in reply from the distance, +and presently Rona appeared beckoning vigorously.</p> + +<p>"We're—going—back," shouted Hattie.</p> + +<p>"No, no! Come along here."</p> + +<p>Anxious to see if she had found any solution of +the problem, the others pelted down a slope and +joined her.</p> + +<p>"Here's our bridge," said Rona proudly, as +soon as they rounded the corner.</p> + +<p>"That thing!" exclaimed Winnie, looking aghast +at the decidedly slim pole, that was fixed across +the stream as a cattle bar.</p> + +<p>"I'm not a tight-rope dancer, thank you!" +sneered Hattie rather indignantly.</p> + +<p>"It'll be quite easy," Rona urged.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I dare say! You won't find me trying to +walk across it, I can tell you."</p> + +<p>"I didn't ask you to walk. I'm going to sit on +it cross-legged, like a tailor, and shuffle myself +over. It's broad enough for that. I'll go first."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I daren't! I'd drop in!" wailed the +younger ones in chorus.</p> + +<p>"Now don't funk. What two sillies you are! +It won't be as hard as you think. Just watch me +do it."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</a></span></p> + +<p>Fortunately the pole had two great advantages: +it was firmly fixed in the bank on either side, so +that it did not sway about, and, being the trunk +of a fir-tree with the bark still left on, its surface +offered some grip. Rona's progress was slow but +steady. She worked herself over by a few inches +at a time. When she reached the water's edge on +the far side she dropped on to a patch of silver +sand and hurrahed.</p> + +<p>"Buck up, and come along," she yelled lustily.</p> + +<p>This was scouting with a vengeance, and more +than the others had bargained for; but the stronger +will prevailed, and though they shook in their shoes +they were persuaded to make the experiment.</p> + +<p>"I'm all dithering," panted Hattie, as Winnie +pushed her forward to try first.</p> + +<p>It was not as bad as she had expected. She was +able to cling tightly with hands and knees, and +though she had one awful moment in the middle, +when she thought she was overbalancing, she +reached Rona's outstretched hand in due course.</p> + +<p>"You squealed like a pig," said the Cuckoo.</p> + +<p>"I thought I was done for. Wouldn't you like +to feel how my heart's beating?"</p> + +<p>"No, I shouldn't. Don't be affected. Come +along, Win. We can't wait all day. I'll fish you +out if you tumble in, I promise you. It isn't deep +enough to drown you."</p> + +<p>With many protestations, Winnie, really very +much scared, followed the others' lead, and got +along quite successfully till within a foot of the +brink; then the sudden mooing of a cow on the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</a></span> +bank startled her, and so upset her equilibrium +that she splashed into the water, wetting one leg +thoroughly.</p> + +<p>"Ugh! My shoes were squelchy enough before," +she lamented. "You can't think how horrid it is."</p> + +<p>"Never mind, you've got across."</p> + +<p>"But you might sympathize."</p> + +<p>"Haven't time. We shall have to hurry up if we +mean to be back before the others."</p> + +<p>"Did you think the cow was Teddie calling you?" +laughed Hattie, who, having got her own trial over, +could afford to jest at other people's misfortunes.</p> + +<p>"You'd have jumped yourself. Oh dear, I spilt +most of my snowdrops, though I did tie the basket +round my neck!"</p> + +<p>"Never mind; you can't fish them out of the +stream now. I'll give you some of mine. Here, +take these," said Rona. "I've nobody to send +them to," she added, half to herself, as she climbed +the bank.</p> + +<p>"Oh, thanks awfully! I always send Mother a +big bunch. She looks forward to them. I've brought +a cardboard box from home on purpose to pack +them in, because the cook runs quite out of starch-boxes. +Some of the girls last year had to wrap +theirs just in brown paper. If you don't want +yours, can you spare me a few more?"</p> + +<p>"I'll keep just these to put in my bedroom, and +you may have the rest if you like," replied Rona, +stalking ahead.</p> + +<p>Every now and then the sense of her loneliness +smote her. She would probably be the only girl<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</a></span> +in the school who was not sending flowers away +to-night. How different it would be if she had +anybody in England who took an interest in her +and cared to receive her snowdrops!</p> + +<p>"It's no use crying for the moon," she decided, +blinking hard lest she should betray symptoms of +weakness before her juniors. "When a thing +can't be helped it can't, and there's an end of it."</p> + +<p>"Cuckoo! Corona Margarita! Do wait for us! +You walk like the wind."</p> + +<p>"Or as if a bull were chasing you," panted +Hattie, overtaking her and claiming a supporting +arm. "Do you see where we've got ourselves to? +The only way out of this is to go straight through +the Glynmaen Wood."</p> + +<p>"Well, and why shouldn't we go through the +Glynmaen Wood? Is it any different to any other +wood?"</p> + +<p>"No, only they're horribly particular about trespassing. +They stick up all kinds of notices warning +people off."</p> + +<p>"What rubbish! Why, in New Zealand we go +where we like."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I dare say, in New Zealand!"</p> + +<p>"Look, there's a notice up there," said Winnie, +pointing over the hedge to a tree whereon was +nailed a weather-stained board bearing the inhospitable +legend: "Trespassers Beware".</p> + +<p>Rona stared at it quite belligerently.</p> + +<p>"I should like to pull it down," she observed. +"What right has anybody to try to keep places all +to themselves?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I suppose it belongs to Lord Glyncraig."</p> + +<p>"All the more shame to him then. I shall take +a particular pleasure in going, just because he sticks +up 'Don't'."</p> + +<p>"Suppose we're caught?"</p> + +<p>"My blessed babes, you don't suppose I've come +all this short cut and scrambled over a pole to be +turned back by a trespass notice! Do you want to +cross the stream again and trail home by the road?"</p> + +<p>"Rather not!"</p> + +<p>"Then I'll give you a boost to get over the fence +there."</p> + +<p>The property was well protected. It took Rona's +best efforts to help her companions to scale the high +oak boards. When they had all dropped safely to +the other side they set off through the trees in the +direction they judged would bring them out nearest +to The Woodlands.</p> + +<p>Three girls in thick shoes do not pass absolutely +silently through a wood, especially if they indulge +in giggles. Winnie and Hattie, moreover, could +never be together without chattering incessantly. +For the moment they had forgotten every principle +of scouting. In that quiet, secluded spot their shrill +voices rang out with extreme clearness. A rabbit +or two scuttled away, and a pheasant flew off with +a whirr. Presently another and heavier pair of +boots might be heard tramping towards them, the +bushes parted, and a dour-looking face, with lantern +jaws and a stubbly chin, regarded them grimly. +The gamekeeper glowered a moment, then growled +out:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</a></span></p> + +<p>"What are you three a-doing here?"</p> + +<p>"That's our own business," retorted Rona briskly.</p> + +<p>" Indeed? Well, it happens to be my business +too. You're trespassing, and you know it."</p> + +<p>"We're doing no harm."</p> + +<p>"Aren't you? I suppose it's nothing to scare +every pheasant in the wood. Oh dear no!"</p> + +<p>"What nonsense! It was only one," exclaimed +Rona, standing up against the bullying tone. +"You're making the most unnecessary fuss. What +right have you to stop us?"</p> + +<p>"More right than you've got to be here. I won't +have anybody in these woods, schoolgirls or no +schoolgirls, so just you get back the way you +came, or——"</p> + +<p>"That will do, Jordan," said a voice behind him.</p> + +<p>The keeper started, turned, and touched his cap +obsequiously.</p> + +<p>"Beg pardon, my lord, but the trespassing that +goes on here gets past bearing, and wants putting +a stop to."</p> + +<p>"Very well, I'll settle it myself," and Lord Glyncraig—for +it was he—readjusted his glasses and +stared reprovingly at the three delinquents.</p> + +<p>"Ah! girls from The Woodlands—evidently out +of bounds. I shall have to report you to your headmistress, +I'm afraid. Your names, please."</p> + +<p>"Winnie Fowler," "Hattie Goodwin," murmured +two subdued voices.</p> + +<p>Rona did not answer at all. She kept her head +down and her eyes fixed on the ground.</p> + +<p>"It's—it's surely not the same girl who did me<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</a></span> +such a service this morning on the marsh? Then +I must repeat my thanks. Now, look here, you've +been up to some mischief, all three of you. Get +back to school as quick as you can, and I'll say +nothing about it! There! Off you go!"</p> + +<p>Without another word the sinners pelted along +through the wood, never pausing till they reached +the railing and climbed over on to the high road. +Here, on free ground, they felt at liberty to express +their indignation.</p> + +<p>"He's a nasty, horrid old thing to turn us out!" +panted Hattie.</p> + +<p>"How he looked at you, Rona!" said Winnie. +"He stared and stared and stared!"</p> + +<p>"Wondering where he'd seen me before, I suppose. +I expect the green stains on my coat reminded +him. I got them hauling up his precious dog."</p> + +<p>"It wasn't with him in the wood."</p> + +<p>"Oh, it's sitting by the fire drinking linseed tea! +It looked a pampered brute."</p> + +<p>"We shall have to scoot to keep clear of Teddie."</p> + +<p>"All right. Scooterons-nous. Thank goodness, +there's the hedge of The Woodlands! We'll slip +in through the little side gate."</p> + +<p>The three certainly merited discovery for their +misdeeds, but on this occasion they evaded justice; +for, as luck would have it, they reached the house +just a moment or two before the rest of the school, +and Miss Teddington, who was in a hurry to pack +her boxes of snowdrops, concluded that they must +have been in front with Ulyth and Lizzie, and did +not stop to remember that she had left them tying<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</a></span> +Winnie's shoelace by the roadside. It was seldom +that such a palpable lapse escaped her keen eye +and even keener comprehension; so they might +thank their fortunate stars for their escape. Hattie +and Winnie made great capital out of the adventure, +and recounted all the details, much exaggerated, +to a thrilled audience in IV <span class="smcap">b</span>.</p> + +<p>Rona did not mention the matter to Ulyth. Perhaps, +knowing her room-mate's standards, in her +heart of hearts she was rather ashamed of it.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em"> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</a></span> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XI" id="CHAPTER_XI"></a><a href="#TOC_XI">CHAPTER XI</a></h2> + +<h3>Rona receives News</h3> +</div> + +<p>Ulyth and Lizzie Lonsdale were sitting cosily in +the latter's bedroom. It was Shrove Tuesday, and, +with perhaps some idea of imitating the Continental +habit of keeping carnival, Miss Bowes for that one +day relaxed her rule prohibiting sweets, and allowed +the school a special indulgence. Needless to say, +they availed themselves of it to the fullest extent. +Some had boxes of chocolate sent them from home; +others visited the village shop and purchased delicacies +from the big bottles displayed in the windows; +while a favoured few managed to borrow pans from +the kitchen and perform some cookery with the aid +of friends. Lizzie had been concocting peppermint +creams, and she now leant back luxuriously +in a basket-chair and handed the box to Ulyth. +The two girls were friends, and often met for a +chat. Ulyth sometimes wished they could be room-mates. +Though Rona was immensely improved, +she was still not an entirely congenial companion. +Her lack of education and early training made it +difficult for her to understand half the things Ulyth +wanted to talk about, and it was troublesome always +to have to explain. In an equal friendship there<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</a></span> +must be give and take, and to poor Rona Ulyth +was constantly giving her very best, and receiving +nothing in return. Lizzie, on the contrary, was +inspiring. She played and painted well, was fond +of reading, and was ready to help to organize any +forward movement in the school. She and Ulyth +pottered together over photography, mounted specimens +for the museum, tried new stitches in embroidery, +and worked at the same patterns in chip +carving. The two girls were at about the same +level of attainment in most things, for if Ulyth had +greater originality, Lizzie was the more steady and +plodding. It was Ulyth's failing to take things up +very hotly at first, and then grow tired of them. +She was apt to have half a dozen unfinished pieces +of fancywork on hand, and her locker in the carpentry-room +held several ambitious attempts that +had never reached fruition.</p> + +<p>Lizzie, as she munched her peppermint creams, +turned over the pages of a volume of Dryden's +poems, and made an occasional note. Each form +kept a "Calendar of Quotations" hung up in its +classroom, the daily extracts for which were supplied +by the girls in rotation. It was Lizzie's turn +to provide the gems for the following week, and +she was hunting for something suitable.</p> + +<p>"I wish Miss Bowes had given me Shakespeare," +she said. "I could have got heaps of bits out of +my birthday-book, just suitable for the month, too. +I don't know why she should have pitched on +Dryden. No one's going to be particularly cheered +next week with my quotations. I've got:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</a></span></p> + +<div class="poem"> +<span style="margin-left: 5.5em;">"'<span class="smcap">Monday</span></span><br /> + +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"'When I consider life, 't is all a cheat;</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Yet, fooled with hope, men favour the deceit,</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Trust on, and think to-morrow will repay;</span><br /> +<span class="i0">To-morrow's falser than the former day.'</span><br /> +</div></div> + +<div class="poem"> +<span style="margin-left: 5.5em;">"'<span class="smcap">Tuesday</span></span><br /> + +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"'All human things are subject to decay,</span><br /> +<span class="i0">And when Fate summons, monarchs must obey.'"</span><br /> +</div></div> + +<p>"That's dismal, in all conscience!" put in +Ulyth.</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<span style="margin-left: 5em;">"'<span class="smcap">Wednesday</span></span><br /> + +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"'Great wits are sure to madness near allied,</span><br /> +<span class="i0">And thin partitions do their bounds divide.'</span><br /> +</div></div> + +<p>"That sounds quite as dismal, does it not? I +wonder why Scott calls Dryden 'glorious John'? +I think he's rather a dismal poet. Listen to this:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"'In dreams they fearful precipices tread,</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Or, shipwrecked, labour to some distant shore,</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Or in dark churches walk amongst the dead:</span><br /> +<span class="i0">They wake with horror, and dare sleep no more.'</span><br /> +</div></div> + +<p>Shall I put it down for Thursday?"</p> + +<p>"For goodness' sake don't! You'll give us all +the creeps," laughed Ulyth.</p> + +<p>"Well, it won't be a champion week."</p> + +<p>"I'll tell you what you might do. Draw some +illustrations round the mottoes. That would make +them more interesting."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I dare say! I haven't time to bother."</p> + +<p>"Nonsense, you have! I'll do some of them for +you. You needn't be original. It doesn't take +long to copy things."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Will you do four, then, if I do three?"</p> + +<p>"All serene. I'll begin this evening if you'll +give me the cards."</p> + +<p>Ulyth dashed off quite a pretty little pen-and-ink +sketch in ten minutes after tea, and put the cards +by in her drawer, intending to finish them during +"handicraft hour" the next day; but she completely +forgot all about them, and never remembered +their existence till Saturday, when she came +across them by accident, and was much dismayed +at her discovery.</p> + +<p>"I'll have to do them somehow, or Lizzie'll never +forgive me," she ruminated. "I must knock them +off just as fast as I can. I could copy those little +figures from the <i>American Gems</i>; they're in outline, +and will be very easy. Oh, bother! It's cataloguing +day, and one's not supposed to use the +library. What atrocious luck!"</p> + +<p>Twice during the term the books of the school +library were called in for purposes of review by the +librarian, and on those days nobody was allowed to +borrow any of the volumes. It was most unfortunate +for Ulyth that this special Saturday should +be the one devoted by the monitresses to the purpose. +She had failed Lizzie so often before in their +joint projects that she did not wish to encounter +fresh reproaches. Somehow three illustrations had +to be provided, and that within the space of about +half an hour. Ulyth was fairly clever at drawing, +but she was not capable of producing the pictures +out of her head. She must obtain a copy, and that +quickly.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Helen Cooper's librarian this month," she +thought. "I wonder if she's finished checking +the catalogue yet? I saw her walking down the +stream five minutes ago with Mabel Hoyle. Why +shouldn't I have the <i>American Gems</i> for half an +hour? It wouldn't do any harm. It really is the +merest red tape that we mayn't use the books. I +shall just take French leave and borrow it."</p> + +<p>Ulyth went at once to the library. Helen had +evidently been at work there, for the list lay open, +with a sheet of paper near, recording the condition +of some of the copies. A glue-pot and some rolls +of transparent gummed edging showed that Helen +had been busy mending battered covers and torn +pages. She probably meant to finish them after +tea. The book of American gems was in its usual +place on the shelf. The temptation was irresistible. +Ulyth did not notice, as she was taking it down, +that someone with a smooth head of sleek fair +hair was peeping round the corner of the door, +and that a pair of not too friendly blue eyes were +watching the deed. If flying footsteps whisked +along the corridor and out into the garden, she was +blissfully unconscious of the fact. She took the +volume to her own form-room and settled herself +at her desk with her drawing materials, cardboard, +pencil, india-rubber, fine pen, and a bottle of +Indian ink. The little figures were exactly what +she wanted, quite simple in outline, but most effective, +and not at all difficult. They would certainly +improve Lizzie's calendar for the week, and relieve +the sombre character of the Dryden quotations.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</a></span> +She worked away very rapidly, sketching them +lightly in pencil, intending to finish them in ink +afterwards. She grew quite interested, especially +when she reached the pen part. That little face +with its laughing mouth and aureole of hair was +really very pretty; she had copied it without having +to use the india-rubber once.</p> + +<p>"Ulyth Stanton, what are you doing with that +book?" said a voice from behind her desk.</p> + +<p>Beside her stood Helen Cooper and Stephanie +Radford, the former hugely indignant, the latter +with a non-committal expression. Ulyth started +so violently that the bottle of Indian ink overturned +and spread itself out in three streams.</p> + +<p>"Oh Jemima!" shrieked Ulyth in consternation.</p> + +<p>"Now you've done it!" exclaimed Helen angrily. +"Ink all over the page. What a disgraceful mess! +For goodness' sake stop; you're making it worse. +Give it to me."</p> + +<p>Ulyth, who was frantically mopping up the black +streams with her pocket handkerchief, surrendered +the book to the outraged librarian. Nemesis had +indeed descended upon her guilty head.</p> + +<p>"You knew perfectly well that you weren't +allowed to take it to-day," scolded Helen. "You +sneaked into the library and got it while I was +out."</p> + +<p>"Someone else has been sneaking too," thought +Ulyth, with a glance at Stephanie's face. "I fancy +I know who turned informer." Then aloud she +said: "I'm fearfully sorry. I'll buy a new copy of +the book."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I don't believe you can; it's one Mrs. Arnold +gave to the school, and is published in America. +I'll try sponging it with salts of lemon, but I'm +afraid nothing will take out the stain. I thought +better of you, Ulyth Stanton. One doesn't expect +such things from V <span class="smcap">b</span>. You'll borrow no more +books till the end of the month. Do you understand?"</p> + +<p>Ulyth responded with what meekness she could +muster. She admitted that the monitress had +reason for wrath, and that she had really no excuse +worthy of urging in extenuation of her crime. It +was hard to be debarred the use of the library for +more than a fortnight, but, Helen, she knew, would +enforce that discipline rigidly. The unfortunate +motto-cards had come in for the bulk of the ink, +and were completely spoilt. Ulyth carried the +ruins to Lizzie's bedroom and pleaded <i>peccavi</i>.</p> + +<p>"Well, I suppose it can't be helped. I've done +my three cards with pictures of flowers, and the +rest of the calendar will have to be plain," said +Lizzie. "You were rather an idiot, Ulyth."</p> + +<p>"I know. I'd have asked Helen for the book if +she'd been anywhere near, and I meant to tell her +afterwards that I'd taken it."</p> + +<p>"Didn't you explain that to her?"</p> + +<p>"No. It didn't come well when she'd just +caught me."</p> + +<p>"You let her think the worst of you."</p> + +<p>"It couldn't be helped. I'm sure Stephanie +hunted her up and told her."</p> + +<p>"Stephanie doesn't like you."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</a></span></p> + +<p>"No, because I champion Rona, and Stephanie +can't bear her."</p> + +<p>"There's nothing so much wrong with the +poor old Cuckoo now; she's wonderfully inoffensive."</p> + +<p>"Yes, but she's not aristocratic. Stephie rubs +that in to her continually. She calls her 'a daughter +of the people'."</p> + +<p>"Stephanie Radford can be uncommonly snobbish +sometimes."</p> + +<p>Stephanie from the very first had resented Rona's +presence at The Woodlands, and since the practical +joke which the latter had played upon her she had +disliked her heartily. She lost no opportunity of +showing her contempt, and of trying to make Rona +seem of small account. She revived an ancient +tradition of the school which made it a breach of +etiquette for girls to go into other form-rooms than +their own, thus banishing Rona from V <span class="smcap">b</span>, where +she had often been brought in by Ulyth or good-natured +Addie to share the fun that went on. If +obliged to take Rona's hand in figure-dancing, she +would only give the extreme tips of her fingers, and +if forced on any occasion to sit next to her, she +would draw away her skirts as if she feared contamination.</p> + +<p>"The Woodlands isn't what it used to be," she +would assure a select circle of listeners. "When +my eldest sister was here there were the Courtenays +and the Derringtons and the Vernons and +quite a number of girls of really good family. +Miss Bowes would never have dreamt then of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</a></span> +taking a girl she knew nothing about; she was so +particular whom she received."</p> + +<p>"The poor old Cuckoo has her points," volunteered +Addie. "I'm afraid most of us aren't +'county'!"</p> + +<p>"All schools are more mixed than they used to +be," admitted Stephanie candidly; "but I'd draw +the line at specimens straight from the backwoods."</p> + +<p>Few of the girls really liked Stephanie, nevertheless +her opinions carried weight. A school-mate +who dresses well, talks continually of highborn +friends, and "gives herself airs" can nearly always +command a certain following among the more unthinking +of her comrades, and such girls as Beth +Broadway, Alice and Merle Denham, and Mary +Acton were easily impressed by Stephanie's attitude +of superiority, and ready to follow her lead on +a question of caste. It gave them a kind of reflected +credit to belong to Stephanie's circle, and +they liked to pride themselves upon their exclusiveness.</p> + +<p>Though Rona was many thousand miles away +from her home, she evidently did not forget her +New Zealand friends, and looked out anxiously for +the thin foreign letters which arrived from time to +time. She never showed them to anybody, and +spoke little of old associations, but a word would +slip out here and there to reveal that she cared +more than she would give her schoolfellows to suppose. +One afternoon, shortly before the New Zealand +mail was expected, Rona was working in her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</a></span> +portion of the garden, when Mary Acton brought +her a message.</p> + +<p>"Some visitors to see you. They're waiting in +the practising-room," announced Mary.</p> + +<p>"Visitors to see me!" exclaimed Rona, throwing +down her rake. "Whoever can they be?"</p> + +<p>"I'm sure I don't know," replied Mary stolidly. +"They asked for Miss Mitchell, so I suppose that's +you. There isn't anyone else in the school named +Mitchell."</p> + +<p>"It must be me!"</p> + +<p>Rona's eyes were wide with excitement. Visitors +for herself! It was such an utter surprise. For +one moment a wild idea flashed across her mind. +Her face suddenly hardened.</p> + +<p>"What are they like? Do you know them?" she +gasped.</p> + +<p>"Not from Adam, or rather Eve. They're just +two very ordinary-looking females."</p> + +<p>Much agitated, Rona flew into the house to wash +her hands, slip off her gardening-apron, and change +her shoes. When this very hasty toilet was completed, +she walked to the practising-room and +entered nervously. Two ladies were sitting near +the piano, with their backs to the window. They +were not fashionably dressed, but perhaps they +were cold, for both wore their large coat collars +turned up. Their felt hats had wide floppy brims. +One carried a guide to North Wales, and the other +held an open motor-map in her hand, as if she had +been studying the route.</p> + +<p>"Miss Mitchell? How d'you do?" said the taller<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[Pg 152]</a></span> +of the two as Rona entered. "I dare say you'll +be surprised to see us, and you won't know who +we are. I'm Mrs. Grant, and this is my cousin, +Miss Smith. We live in New Zealand, and +know some of your friends there. We're visiting +England at present, and as we found ourselves +motoring through North Wales, we thought we +would call and see you."</p> + +<p>"It's very good of you," faltered Rona. "Which +friends of mine do you know?"</p> + +<p>"The Higsons. They sent you all kinds of +messages."</p> + +<p>"Oh! How are they? Do tell me about them!"</p> + +<p>Rona's cheeks were flushed and her lips quivering.</p> + +<p>"Pamela has grown, of course. Connie and +Minnie have had measles. Billy had a fall from +his horse and sprained his ankle badly, but he's +all right again now."</p> + +<p>"And Jake?"</p> + +<p>"Spends most of his time with the Johnson +girls."</p> + +<p>"Who are they? I never heard of them."</p> + +<p>"They came after you left."</p> + +<p>"To which farm?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, not very far away, I believe!"</p> + +<p>"I wonder Pamela didn't tell me all that in her +letter. Which farm can it possibly be? Surely +not Heathlands?"</p> + +<p>"I believe that was the name."</p> + +<p>"Then have the Marstons gone?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, to the North Island."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Oh! I'm very sorry. Why didn't they +write to me? Did you hear any other news, +please?"</p> + +<p>"Pamela told me something about your home."</p> + +<p>A shadow crossed Rona's face.</p> + +<p>"Is it—is it Mrs. Barker?" she asked nervously.</p> + +<p>"Yes, it's about her."</p> + +<p>"What has she been doing?"</p> + +<p>"Getting married again."</p> + +<p>"Oh! Oh! Who would have her?"</p> + +<p>"Your father."</p> + +<p>"No!" shrieked Rona, her eyes ablaze. "It +can't be! That dreadful, drinking woman! Oh, +I can't—I won't believe it!"</p> + +<p>"She's your stepmother now, whether you like +it or not."</p> + +<p>"Daddy! Daddy! It can't be! How could +you? You knew she drank!"</p> + +<p>"He's drinking himself—like a fish."</p> + +<p>"No! My daddy?"</p> + +<p>Rona, a moment ago furious, had turned white +as a ghost. She put out a trembling hand and +clutched the piano blindly; then, with a pitiful, +broken cry, she fell, half-fainting, half-sobbing, on +to the floor. At that moment Ulyth, with her +music-case, entered the room.</p> + +<p>"What's the matter? Rona! Rona, dear! Are +you ill? Who are these—people?"</p> + +<p>She might well ask, for the behaviour of the two +strangers was most unprecedented. They were +leaning on each other's shoulders and roaring with +laughter. One of them suddenly threw up her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</a></span> +hat, and turned down her collar, revealing the +familiar features of Stephanie Radford.</p> + +<p>"Done you brown!" she exploded. "Paid you +back in your own coin for your precious Eau de +Venus sell! I'm even with you now, Rona Mitchell! +Come along, Beth." And the pair disappeared, +guffawing.</p> + +<p>Rona picked herself up shakily, and subsided on +to a chair, with her face in her hands.</p> + +<p>"It's not true then?" she quavered.</p> + +<p>"What isn't true?"</p> + +<p>"They told me Dad had married Mrs. Barker, +and that he was—drinking!"</p> + +<p>"Stephanie told you that?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. Oh, I'm queer still!"</p> + +<p>"Rona, darling, of course it's nothing but a +black, wicked lie. Don't cry so. There isn't a +word of truth about it. They were only ragging +you. Oh, don't take it so hard! I'll settle with +Stephanie for this."</p> + +<p>Half an hour afterwards a very grim, determined +Ulyth, supported by Lizzie Lonsdale, sought out +the masqueraders and spoke her mind.</p> + +<p>"She ragged me, so why shouldn't I turn the +tables on her? It's nothing to make such a hullabaloo +about!" yapped Stephanie.</p> + +<p>"But it is. The trick she played on you was +only fun after all. Yours was the cruellest thing +you could think of to hurt and wound her. You +may pride yourself on your family, Stephanie +Radford, but I'm sure the very commonest person +would have had nicer feelings than to do this. I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</a></span> +can never think the same of you and Beth +again."</p> + +<p>"Oh, of course you take up the cudgels for your +precious Cuckoo!" snapped Stephanie. "Don't +make such an absurd fuss. I shall do what I like, +without you setting yourself up to lecture me. So +there! If you don't like it, you may lump it."</p> + +<p>"Not a very aristocratic form of expression for +a scion of the Radfords of Stoke Radford!" commented +Lizzie, as she and Ulyth stalked away.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em"> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</a></span> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XII" id="CHAPTER_XII"></a><a href="#TOC_XII">CHAPTER XII</a></h2> + +<h3>Sentry Duty</h3> +</div> + +<p>The spring term wore slowly on. March winds +came and went, taking the sweet violets with them, +but leaving golden Lent lilies and a wealth of +primroses as a legacy to April. The larch forest +above Porth Powys was a tangle of green tassels, +the hedgerows were starry with blackthorn, and +the <i>Pyrus japonica</i> over the dining-room windows +was a mass of rosy blossom. Spring was always +a delightful season at The Woodlands; with the +longer days came rambles and greater freedom. +Popular opinion ran high in extolling country life, +and any girl who ventured to prefer town pleasures +found herself entirely in the minority.</p> + +<p>Rona had several invitations for the Easter holidays, +one from Mrs. Stanton among the number; +but Miss Bowes, thinking it better for Ulyth to +have a rest from her room-mate's presence, decided +in favour of Winnie Fowler. Ulyth could not help +feeling a sense of relief that the matter was thus +settled. Rona was very little trouble to her now—indeed, +she rather liked her company; but she +would be glad to have her mother to herself for +the few short weeks.</p> + +<p>"I wouldn't for the world have tried to stop her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</a></span> +coming, Motherkins," she wrote home; "but Miss +Bowes said most emphatically that she must go to +the Fowlers. I'm sure they'll give her a good time, +and—well, I admit it will be a rest to me. Just at +present I don't want to share you. Now you know +the whole of your horrid daughter! Lizzie asked +me if I would spend part of the holidays with her, +but I managed to make an excuse. I felt I couldn't +spare a single precious day away from you. I have +so much to talk about and tell you. Am I greedy? +But what's the use of having one's own lovely +mother if she isn't just one's ownest sometimes? +I tell you things I wouldn't tell anyone else on +earth. I don't think all the girls feel quite the +same; but then their mothers can't possibly be like +mine! She's the one in a thousand! I'm sitting +up late in my bedroom to write this, and I shall +have to report myself to Miss Lodge to-morrow; +but I felt I must write."</p> + +<p>After the Easter holidays everybody returned to +The Woodlands prepared to make the most of the +coming term. With the longer evenings more +time was allowed out-of-doors, and the glade by the +stream became a kind of summer parlour. Those +girls who had some slight skill in carpentry constructed +rustic benches and tables from the boughs +blown down by last autumn's storms, and those +who preferred nature untouched by art had their +favourite seats in snug corners among the bushes +or on the stones by the water-side. With the first +burst of warm weather bathing was allowed, and +every morning detachments of figures in mackin<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</a></span>toshes +and tennis-shoes might be seen wending +their way towards the large pool to indulge in the +exhilarating delight of a dip in clear, flowing water, +followed by a brisk run round the glade. These +pre-breakfast expeditions were immensely appreciated; +the girls willingly got up earlier for the +purpose, and anyone who manifested a disposition +to remain in bed was denounced as a "slacker".</p> + +<p>One day, towards the end of May, when some of +the members of V <span class="smcap">b</span> were sitting with their fancywork +on the short grass under an oak-tree, Addie +Knighton came from the house and joined them. +There was beaming satisfaction in Addie's twinkling +grey eyes; she rubbed her hands ostentatiously, +and chuckled audibly.</p> + +<p>"What's to do, Addie, old girl? You're looking +very smug," said Lizzie.</p> + +<p>"Aha! Wouldn't you like to know? What'll +you give me if I tell you now?"</p> + +<p>"Never buy pigs in pokes. It mayn't be important +at all," volunteered Merle.</p> + +<p>"Oh, indeed! Isn't it? Just wait till you +hear."</p> + +<p>"It's nothing but one of your sells," yawned +Gertrude Oliver, moving so as to rest her back +more comfortably against Ulyth.</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Arnold doesn't generally spring sells upon +us."</p> + +<p>Ulyth jumped up so suddenly that Gertrude collapsed +with a squeal of protest.</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Arnold here and I never knew! Where +is she?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Don't excite yourself. She's gone by now. She +only stayed ten minutes, to see Miss Bowes, but it +was ten minutes to some purpose. Do you know +what she's actually proposed?"</p> + +<p>Addie's listeners were as eager now as they had +been languid before.</p> + +<p>"Go ahead, can't you?" urged Lizzie.</p> + +<p>"Well, the whole school's to go camping for +three days."</p> + +<p>This indeed was news!</p> + +<p>"Stunning!"</p> + +<p>"Spiffing!"</p> + +<p>"Ripping!"</p> + +<p>"Scrumptious!" burst in a chorus from the +elated four.</p> + +<p>"Details, please," added Ulyth. "When and +where, and how, and why?"</p> + +<p>"Is it a Camp-fire business?" asked Lizzie.</p> + +<p>"Of course it is or Mrs. Arnold wouldn't be +getting it up. It's happened this way. The Llangarmon +and Elwyn Bay detachments of Boy Scouts +are to camp at Llyn Gwynedd for ten days early in +June. Mr. Arnold has the arranging of it all. And +Mrs. Arnold suggested that the tents might just as +easily be hired a few days sooner, and we could use +them before the boys came. It's such a splendid +opportunity. It would be too expensive to have +everything sent down on purpose just for us, but +when they're there we can hire the camp for very +little extra. It's the carriage and erecting that +cost so much. Miss Bowes, I believe, hummed +and ha-ed a little, but Teddie just tumbled to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</a></span> +the idea and persuaded the Rainbow to clinch +it."</p> + +<p>"Good old Teddie! I believe it's the tragedy of +her life that she can't live altogether in the open +air. She adores Red Cross Work."</p> + +<p>"The teachers are all to come to camp; they're +as excited as you please about it. It was Miss +Lodge who told me that Mrs. Arnold was here, and +I rushed down the drive and caught her just for a +second."</p> + +<p>This indeed was an event in the annals of the +school. Never since the Camp-fire League was +started had its members found any opportunity of +sampling life under canvas. They had practised +a little camp cookery down by the stream, but their +experiments had not gone much farther than frying +eggs and bacon or roasting potatoes in hot ashes, +and they were yearning to try their hands at gipsies' +stews and gallipot soups. With Mrs. Arnold for +leader they expected a three days' elysium. Even +Miss Teddington, they knew, would rise to the +occasion and play trumps. Llyn Gwynedd was +a small lonely lake about six miles away, in the +heart of the mountains beyond Penllwyd and Glyder +Garmon. It was reached from The Woodlands by +a track across the moors, but it communicated by +high road with Capelcefn station, so that tents, +camp-furniture, and provisions could be sent up by +a motor-lorry. The ground was hired from a local +farmer, who undertook to supply milk, butter, and +eggs to the best of his ability, and to bring meat +and fresh vegetables from Capelcefn as required.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</a></span> +To cater for a whole school up in the wilds is a task +from which many Principals would shrink, and +Miss Bowes might be forgiven if she had at first +demurred at the suggestion. But, with Mr. Arnold's +practical experience to help her, she gave her orders +and embarked (not without a few tremors) upon the +proceeding.</p> + +<p>"If the mountain air makes you so hungry you +eat up two days' provisions in one, it means you'll +have to fast on the third day," she assured the girls. +"I'm sending up what I hope will be sufficient. +It's like victualling a regiment. Of course we shan't +go at all if it's wet."</p> + +<p>Mr. Arnold, who very kindly volunteered to see +that the camp was properly set up and in thorough +working order before the school took possession, +superintended the erection of the tents and reported +that all was in apple-pie condition and only waiting +for its battalion. On 2nd June, therefore, a +very jolly procession started off from The Woodlands. +In navy skirts and sports coats, tricolor ties, +straw hats, and decorated with numerous badges +and small flags, the girls felt like a regiment of +female Territorials. Each carried her kit on her +back in a home-made knapsack containing her few +personal necessities, and knife, spoon, fork, and +enamelled tin mug. A band of tin whistles and +mouth organs led the way, playing a valiant attempt +at "Caller Herrin'". The teachers also were prepared +for business. Miss Teddington, who had done +climbs in Switzerland, came in orthodox costume +with nailed boots and a jaunty Tyrolean hat with<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[Pg 162]</a></span> +a piece of edelweiss stuck in the front. Miss Lodge +wore a full-length leather coat and felt hat in +which she looked ready to defy a waterspout or +a tornado. Miss Moseley, who owned to an ever-present +terror of bulls, grasped an iron-spiked walking-stick, +and Miss Davis had a First Aid wallet +slung across her back. In the girls' opinion Miss +Bowes shirked abominably. Instead of venturing +on the six-mile walk she had caught the morning +train to Capelcefn, and was going to hire a car at +the Royal Hotel and drive up to the lake with the +provisions. Mrs. Arnold, who, with her husband, +had taken rooms at the farm for a few days, was +already on the spot, and would be ready to receive +the travellers when they arrived.</p> + +<p>On the whole it was a glorious morning, though +a few ill-omened clouds lingered like a night-cap +round Penllwyd. Larks were singing, cuckoos +calling, bluebells made the woods seem a reflection +of the sky, and the gorse was ablaze on the common. +The walk was collar-work at first, up, up, up, climbing +a steep track between loose-built, fern-covered +walls, taking a short cut over the slope that formed +the spur of Cwm Dinas, and scaling the rocky little +precipice of Maenceirion. Some who had started +at a great rate and with much enthusiasm began to +slacken speed, and to realize the wisdom of Miss +Teddington's advice and try the slow-going, steady +pace she had learned from Swiss guides.</p> + +<p>"You can't keep it up if you begin with such a +spurt," she assured them. "Alpine climbing has +to be like the tortoise—slow and sure."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[Pg 163]</a></span></p> + +<p>Once on the plateau beyond Cwm Dinas progress +was easier. It was still uphill, but the slope was +gentler. They were on the open moors now, following +a path, little more than a sheep track, that led +under the crag of Glyder Garmon. Except for an +occasional tiny whitewashed farm they were far from +human habitations, and the only signs of life were +the small agile Welsh sheep, the half-wild ponies +that grazed on these uplands during the summer +months, and a pair of carrion crows that wheeled +away, croaking hoarsely at the sight of intruders. +On and on over what seemed an interminable reach +of coarse grass and whinberry-bushes, jumping +tiny brooks, and skirting round sometimes to avoid +bogs, for much of the ground was spongy, and +though its surface of sphagnum moss looked inviting, +it was treacherous in the extreme. At last they +had rounded the corner of Glyder Garmon, and +there, far away to the right, like a sheet of silver, +Llyn Gwynedd lay gleaming in the distance.</p> + +<p>The sight of their destination, even though it was +two miles away, cheered up those weaker spirits +that were beginning to lag, especially as something +white on the south side, when examined through +Miss Teddington's field-glasses, proved to be the +tents. Three-quarters of an hour's brisk walking +brought them to the lake, and in ten minutes more +they were announcing their approach to the camp +in a succession of wild hoorays.</p> + +<p>Mr. and Mrs. Arnold were waiting to do the +honours, and, parading in their very best style, the +League marched in and took possession.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[Pg 164]</a></span></p> + +<p>By the time they had been two hours at Llyn +Gwynedd all the girls felt like old, well-seasoned +campers. Mrs. Arnold was no novice, and at once +assumed her post as leader and captain in command. +Miss Bowes, Miss Teddington, and the +other teachers were assigned tents of honour, and +every member of the League was placed on definite +duty. Some were cooks, some water-carriers, some +scullions, and some sentries, according to their +qualifications and the rank they held in the League.</p> + +<p>The field hired for the camping-ground had been +carefully chosen. It was on the far side of the lake, +away from the road, sheltered on the north and east +by mountain ridges, and with a shelving beach of +fine silvery sand where the waves lapped in gentle +little ripples. A narrow brook, leaping from the +heights above, passed through the centre and gave +a quite uncontaminated water supply. All around +rose peaks which had not been visible at The Woodlands, +the rough, splintered crest of Craig Mawr, +the smoother summit of Pencastell, and the almost +inaccessible precipice of Carnedd Powys. It was +glorious to sit by the lake and feel that they were +not obliged to return to school before dark, but could +stay and watch the sun set behind Pencastell and the +gloaming creep quietly on. Of course everybody +wanted to explore the immediate vicinity, and little +bands, each in charge of a Torch-bearer, were allowed +to skirt round the lake within sight of the camp. Each +girl had her League whistle, and knew the signals +which meant "Meal-time", "Danger", and "Return +instantly to camp". These had been rehearsed<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[Pg 165]</a></span> +in the glade at The Woodlands, and formed part of +the examination of every candidate.</p> + +<p>Ulyth, as a Torch-bearer, was able to head a party, +and started off in quest of bog myrtle along the +bank, returning with great armfuls of the delicious-smelling +aromatic shrub to cast into the fire during +the evening "stunt".</p> + +<p>The gathering of the League that night was a +memorable occasion. The ceremonies were observed +with strictest formality, and as visitors were present +a special welcome song was sung in their honour. +The scene was immensely picturesque and romantic: +the red sun setting between Craig Mawr and Pencastell +threw a last glow on the lake, the blazing +fire lighted up the camp and the rows of eager faces, +and behind all was the background of the eternal +hills.</p> + +<p>Rona, having successfully passed through her +probation, was admitted as a Wood-gatherer and +awarded the white badge of service. Several +younger girls also received initiation into membership. +With the League ceremonial, songs, stories, +and cocoa-making, the evening passed very swiftly +away. At nine o'clock everybody was expected to +turn in. A night under canvas was a new experience. +The stretcher-beds and the clean blankets +looked inviting. Strict military discipline was +observed in the camp, and sentries were told off +on duty. In as perfect order as a regiment the +girls went to their tents. Ulyth was sharing +quarters with Addie, Lizzie, and Gertrude. She +tucked herself up in her blankets, as she had been<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[Pg 166]</a></span> +taught at camp drill, and then lay quietly for a +long, long time, watching the patch of sky through +the tent door.</p> + +<p>She seemed only to have been asleep for about +an hour, when the patrol touched her on the +shoulder. Instantly she sprang up, broad awake.</p> + +<p>"Relieve sentry at west guard," was the order, +and the patrol passed on.</p> + +<p>It was too dark to see her watch, but Ulyth knew +it must be nearly one o'clock. She hastily donned +the warm garments ordered to be worn by sentries, +and hurried away to relieve Helen Cooper. Her +post was at the west end of the camp, where the +field merged into a rushy swamp before it rose +into the hill that led towards the farm.</p> + +<p>"The password is 'Louvain'," said Helen, retiring, +not at all sorry to seek the comfort of her +bed. "One leg of the camp-stool is most rickety, +so I warn you not to lean too hard on it. Good +night."</p> + +<p>Left alone, Ulyth sat down with extreme caution +on the deficient camp-stool and surveyed the situation. +There were clouds across a waning moon, +and it was fairly dark. She could see the outlines +of the tents in black masses behind her; in front +the field lay dim and shadowy, with a mist creeping +from the water. Up above, to her right, against an +indigo sky, the Great Bear was standing almost on +its head, with its tail in the air. One of the tests of +a Torch-bearer was a knowledge of the stars, and +Ulyth had learnt how to tell the time by the position +of this particular constellation. She made a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[Pg 167]</a></span> +rapid calculation now, reckoning from the day of +the month, and was glad to find it came out correctly. +Cassiopeia's white arms were hidden by +the mountains, but the Milky Way shimmered in +the east, and overhead Arcturus blazed as he had +done in the days when the patriarch Job recorded +his brilliance. To the extreme north a patch of +light lay behind Penllwyd, where the sun, at this +season hardly dipping far out of sight, worked his +course round to the east again. How quiet it was! +The silence was almost oppressive. The gentle lap +of the tiny waves on the lake was not equal to the +rush of the stream at The Woodlands. Not even a +night-bird called. The camp was absolutely still +and slumbering.</p> + +<p>Ulyth rose and paced about for a while. It was +too cold to sit still long. She must only use the +camp-stool when she needed a rest.</p> + +<p>"Sentries ought to be allowed chocolates," she +murmured, "or hot peppermints, just to keep up +their spirits. Ugh! How weird and eerie it all is! +There isn't a sound anywhere. It's not an enlivening +performance to keep watch, I must say."</p> + +<p>She stopped, suddenly on the alert. What was +that noise in the darkness to her left? She distinctly +heard a rustle among the gorse-bushes, and +thought something moved in the deep shadow.</p> + +<p>"Halt! Who goes there?" she challenged.</p> + +<p>There was no reply, but the rustle sounded +again, this time nearer to the camp. She listened +with every sense strained to the uttermost. Something +or someone was slinking in from the field<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[Pg 168]</a></span> +and creeping cautiously towards the tents; of that +she was nearly certain. Wild ideas of thieving +tramps flooded her brain. A louder sound confirmed +her suspicions. She could hear it quite distinctly +in the direction of the kitchen. Her duty was +plain. She blew her whistle promptly; it was +answered by those of the three other sentries, from +the north, east, and south quarters, and immediately +torches began to flash, and voices to ask the +cause of alarm. The guard was roused, and began +an instant tour of inspection.</p> + +<p>"Something crept past me, straight towards the +centre of the camp," Ulyth reported.</p> + +<p>The lights flashed away in the direction of the +kitchen. The girls were on their mettle, and meant +business. Whoever the intruder was, he should be +run to earth and made to give an account of himself. +They felt perfectly capable of taking him +prisoner and binding his hands behind him with +a rope. Indeed, they thought they should hugely +enjoy doing so, particularly if he turned out to be +a burglar. Numbers give courage, and a very +martial spirit was in the air.</p> + +<p>"If he's hiding in one of the tents we'll drag him +out by the legs!" proclaimed Marjorie Earnshaw +fiercely.</p> + +<p>Everybody was sure it must be a "he". The +news spread through the camp like lightning, +and it was even rumoured that he wore a coat +and top-boots. Miss Teddington herself had +emerged, and was waving a lantern as a searchlight.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[Pg 169]</a></span></p> + +<p>"This way," blustered Marjorie, heading for +the kitchen quarter. "The sneaking cur! We'll +have him!"</p> + +<p>"Why aren't we allowed bayonets?" lamented +Ruth White.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I hear a noise! There's something there +really," urged Kathleen Simpson, with a most unsoldierly +squeal. "Oh, I say! Here he comes!"</p> + +<p>There was a sudden scratch and scramble, and +from out the larder rushed a dark object on four +legs, with a white something in its mouth. Helen +made a valiant dash at it, but it dodged her, and +flew like the wind away between the tents and off +somewhere over the fields in the direction of the +farm. The guard with one accord burst out laughing.</p> + +<p>"A thieving Welsh sheep-dog raiding the +larder!" exclaimed Catherine.</p> + +<p>"It's stolen a whole leg of mutton, the brute!" +wailed Doris, who belonged to the Commissariat +Department. "I didn't think it could have reached +that. It must have jumped high. It doesn't deserve +its prize."</p> + +<p>"No wonder it wouldn't answer when I challenged +it," observed Ulyth.</p> + +<p>"Well, I'm glad it's no worse than a dog," said +Miss Teddington. "We must take steps to-morrow +to make the larder safer, or we shall be troubled +again."</p> + +<p>"We'll place a guard over it," replied Catherine +promptly. "Jessie Morrison, you are on sentry +duty at once to watch the larder. Maggie Orton +will relieve you at three."</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em"> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[Pg 170]</a></span> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIII" id="CHAPTER_XIII"></a><a href="#TOC_XIII">CHAPTER XIII</a></h2> + +<h3>Under Canvas</h3> +</div> + +<p>After the scare in the small hours, everyone +settled down again to slumber. Nevertheless the +girls woke with the birds. Many of them had +registered a solemn vow the night before that +they would watch the sun rise, and each was +pledged to arouse the others at all costs; so at +the first hint of dawn heads began to pop out of +tents, and the camp was astir. Addie Knighton, +still half-dazed with sleep, was led firmly by Gertrude +Oliver to the edge of the lake and forced to +wash her face.</p> + +<p>"You'll thank me when you're really awake," +purred Gertie, ignoring her victim's protests. "It's +only what I promised you faithfully last night. +You told me to duck you in, if nothing else would +do it."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I'm awake now! I am truly. You needn't +be afraid I'll go back to bed," bleated Addie, afraid +her friend might proceed to extremities. "Hadn't +you better haul up Alice next?"</p> + +<p>"I left Chrissie doing that. She's going round +the tents with a wet sponge. Look! Isn't that +worth getting up to see?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[Pg 171]</a></span></p> + +<p>The grey of the sky had flushed into carnation +pink, and up from behind the wall of the mountains +rose the great ball of the sun, red at first through +a veil of mist, but shining out golden as he cleared +the cloud-bank. Everything was waking up. A +peewit called by the water's edge, a cock crew from +the farm-yard, and a dog barked lustily.</p> + +<p>"Our thief of the night complaining of an attack +of indigestion, I hope," said Ulyth, joining Addie +and Gertie at the lake-side. "How much can a +dog eat without feeling ill?"</p> + +<p>"We had a collie that consumed three rabbits +once," laughed Addie. "We didn't ask it how it +felt afterwards. It got a good thrashing, I remember."</p> + +<p>"We'll keep a stick handy to-night, in case of +any more raids. Who's on breakfast duty? I'm +getting wildly hungry. I hope the bacon hasn't +disappeared with the mutton."</p> + +<p>Although the three days' sojourn under canvas +was in a sense a holiday, it was conducted in a very +business-like spirit and with rigid discipline. All +the daily duties were performed zealously by bands +of servers, who polished tins, peeled potatoes, +washed plates, or cleaned shoes, as the case might +be. The League was putting to a practical proof +the seven rules of the Camp-fire Law. Beauty was +all around them, and knowledge to be had for the +asking. They proved themselves trustworthy by +their service, and glorified work in the doing of the +camp tasks. Health was drawn with every breath +of mountain air, and, judging from their faces,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[Pg 172]</a></span> +the seventh rule, "Be happy", seemed almost +superfluous. Everyone looked radiant, even Mary +Acton, who was a champion grumbler, and generally +ready to complain of crumpled rose-leaves. +After breakfast and service duty came drill, a more +than usually formal affair, for Mr. Arnold himself +reviewed them. He had great experience with the +Boy Scouts, so the girls were anxious to do the +utmost credit to their beloved Guardian of the Fire. +The Ambulance Corps gave a demonstration of +First Aid; another detachment took down and re-erected +a tent; the juniors showed their abilities in +knot-tying, and the seniors in signalling. Their +inspector declared himself perfectly satisfied, and +commended certain members for special proficiency.</p> + +<p>"I shall tell the boys' battalions how well you +can do," he declared. "It will put them on their +mettle. They won't want to be beaten by a ladies' +school."</p> + +<p>When the display was over, all dispersed for a +ramble round the lake while the dinner stewed; +only the cooks on duty remained, carefully watching +their pots. Ulyth, Rona, Lizzie, and Gertrude +wandered past the farm and up the hill-side to the +head of a crag, whence they had a glorious view +down over the sheet of water below.</p> + +<p>"Llyn Gwynedd looks so cheerful and innocent +now, one wouldn't believe it could ever be treacherous +and do dreadful things," remarked Gertrude.</p> + +<p>"What things?" asked Ulyth.</p> + +<p>"Why, I believe someone was drowned just<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[Pg 173]</a></span> +down there a great many years ago. I heard +Catherine saying so last night, so I suppose it's +true."</p> + +<p>"It's perfectly true, and I can tell you who it +was," answered Lizzie. "It was the eldest son of +Lord Glyncraig. He was fishing here, and the +boat got upset. It was the most dreadful tragedy. +He was such a fine, promising young fellow, and +had only been married quite a short time. He was +the heir, too, which made it worse."</p> + +<p>"But there are other sons, aren't there?" asked +Ulyth.</p> + +<p>"Yes, but he was the flower of the family. The +rest are no good. The second son, the present heir, +is a helpless invalid, the third is in a sanatorium for +consumption, and the fourth was the proverbial +prodigal, and disappeared. If Lord Glyncraig +knows where he is, nobody else does."</p> + +<p>"Hadn't the one who was drowned any children?"</p> + +<p>"Only a girl. The second and third aren't +married."</p> + +<p>"Then will the estate have to go to the prodigal +in the end?"</p> + +<p>"I suppose so, if he's alive, and turns up to +claim it."</p> + +<p>"Peers have their troubles as much as commoners," +commented Ulyth. "I've never heard +this before. I'm sorry for Lord Glyncraig. Plas +Cafn is too good to go to a prodigal."</p> + +<p>"Yet prodigals sometimes turn out better than +elder brothers, if we accept the parable," remarked<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[Pg 174]</a></span> +Rona, throwing stones into the water as viciously +as if she were aiming at an enemy.</p> + +<p>"Don't!" said Ulyth. "You'll disturb the trout, +and Mrs. Arnold wants to fish this afternoon. Rona, +do stop! Let's go down to the edge again, and try +and find some bog bean. You'll get a proficiency +badge if you can show twenty specimens of wild +flowers and name them. Yes, I won mine last +year, and so did Lizzie."</p> + +<p>"I'd rather win a proficiency badge for shooting," +grunted Rona. "Why can't Teddie let us +get up a ladies' rifle corps?"</p> + +<p>"Only wish she would, just! It would be +prime," agreed the others.</p> + +<p>Dinner was ready by twelve o'clock—not at all +too early for a company that had breakfasted at +seven. Despite the purloining of the leg of mutton +there was enough to go round, and everybody decided +that the cooks deserved proficiency badges. +The servers also did their work promptly, and removed +plates and dishes with the maximum of +speed and the minimum of clatter. By half-past +one everything was washed up and polished, and +the kitchen department in apple-pie order.</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid we may have rain," said Miss Teddington, +looking anxiously at the sky, which was +now completely overcast with clouds.</p> + +<p>"One often gets a shower among the mountains +when the valley escapes," commented Mrs. Arnold. +"I don't think it will be much this afternoon, if +there's rain at all. The patrols know what to do +if it begins. This grey sky will be good for fishing."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[Pg 175]</a></span></p> + +<p>Mrs. Arnold was an enthusiastic angler, and had +brought her fishing-tackle with her to camp. She +intended that afternoon to hire a boat from the farm +and see if she could beguile some of the wily trout +from the lake.</p> + +<p>"I'll take four girls with me," she announced: +"two to row, one to steer, and one to help with the +landing-net."</p> + +<p>Needless to say, she could have had dozens of +volunteers, but her choice fell on Kathleen Simpson, +Ruth White, Gladys Broughton, and Evie Isherwood, +who, highly elated, went off to unmoor the +boat. Then, Ruth and Kathleen rowing, and +Gladys steering, they made gently down the lake +towards the west end, where the stream flowed out.</p> + +<p>Pretty Mrs. Arnold looked particularly charming +in a blue-and-white boating-costume, with a little +blue fisherman's cap perched on her fair hair. It +was the fashion for the girls to adore her, and she +certainly had four whole-hearted admirers with her +that afternoon, ready to be at her beck and call, +and to perform any service she wished. They +followed her instructions to the letter, and watched +her line and reel with tense eagerness.</p> + +<p>"I hope we may catch some salmon trout," said +Mrs. Arnold; "they're much more delicate than +the ordinary ones. If we've luck we may get +enough at any rate to give Miss Bowes and Miss +Teddington a dish for supper. Row gently along +there, I saw a fish jump; if it's hungry it may +fancy my fly. Good biz! there's a bite. I'll +have to play him gently; he feels a strong<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[Pg 176]</a></span> +fellow. Are you ready, Evie, with the landing-net?"</p> + +<p>It was frightfully exciting as Mrs. Arnold wound +her reel, and the prey came within reach. Was he +really hooked, or would he break away at the last +moment and disappoint them?</p> + +<p>"We've got him! We've got him! Quick, +Evie! Oh, I say! Isn't he splendid?"</p> + +<p>A silvery-grey, gleaming, glittering object was +leaping in the landing-net at the bottom of the boat.</p> + +<p>"Oh, what luck!" yelled Evie.</p> + +<p>"He must be a patriarch!" cried the rowers.</p> + +<p>"I can't see him. Oh, do let me look!" squealed +Gladys, forgetting everything in her eagerness. +"Ruth, you're in the way. I must look."</p> + +<p>And up she sprang, trying to push past Ruth +and Kathleen.</p> + +<p>"Sit still!" shouted Mrs. Arnold frantically, but +the mischief was done.</p> + +<p>It all happened in two seconds. No one quite +knew how, though Ruth declared afterwards that +in trying to scramble past her Gladys stepped on +the gunwale. Over toppled the boat, and almost +before its occupants knew their danger they were +struggling in the water. The girls could swim a +little—a very little. Kathleen, gasping and spluttering, +struggled valiantly towards the bank; Evie, +with a certain instinct of self-preservation, turned +on her back, and managed to keep herself afloat +somehow. Ruth and Gladys clutched the upturned +boat and, clung there screaming. Mrs. +Arnold was in even more desperate straits. She<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[Pg 177]</a></span> +could not swim, and she had fallen too wide of the +boat to be able to grasp it. The few patrols left in +charge of the camp stood for a moment paralysed, +then tore along the side of the lake towards the +scene of the accident. But someone else was +quicker. Rona, hunting for botany specimens, +had been watching the fishing from the bank close +by. There was a rush, a splash, a swift little figure +wildly ploughing a path through the lake, beating +the water with short, impatient strokes.</p> + +<p>"I won't clutch you," cried Mrs. Arnold, +pluckily keeping her presence of mind. "I believe +I can manage to float."</p> + +<p>She lay still as Rona put a hand under her +shoulder and towed her towards the shore, so still +that she neither stirred nor spoke when Doris and +Catherine, who had reached the spot, helped to +drag her from the water.</p> + +<p>"Oh, she's drowned!" shrieked Doris.</p> + +<p>"No, no! Lay her down flat. She's opening +her eyes."</p> + +<p>Marion Harper and Madge Johnson, both tolerable +swimmers, were plunging to help Evie; Kathleen +was already struggling ashore. "Wait till +we can come for you!" shouted Rona to Ruth and +Gladys; "don't let go the boat."</p> + +<p>Evie was pulled ashore first, not much the worse. +Rona had trouble with Gladys, who had waxed +hysterical, but with Marion's help she landed her +safely and went back for Ruth. By this time the +danger-signal, blown lustily from several League +whistles, brought all who were anywhere within<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[Pg 178]</a></span> +reach rushing to the rendezvous. Mrs. Arnold, +with wet golden hair clinging round her white face, +leaned against Catherine's shoulder, while Doris +rubbed her hands.</p> + +<p>"I'm glad my husband's gone to Capel Garmon +to-day. Please let me tell him myself," were her +first words. "It was good little Rona who saved +me," she added, smiling faintly at Miss Bowes, +who was down on her knees beside her on the +grass.</p> + +<p>"I wish I'd done it. I wish I'd done it. Oh, +how I envy you, Rona!" cried Ulyth, regarding +her friend with wide shining eyes of admiration.</p> + +<p>Miss Teddington, pale but very self-controlled, +had taken command of the situation. Eight people +were thoroughly wet through and bedraggled, and +must be hurried to camp and dried, and given hot +drinks as speedily as possible. The rescuers +needed cosseting as much as the rescued. Madge +and Marion were shivering and trembling, and +Rona, now the excitement of her sudden dash was +over, looked more shaky than she would allow.</p> + +<p>"We must tuck them up in blankets," said Miss +Teddington. "First Aid Corps on duty, please! +The difficulty is going to be how to get their clothes +properly dried in a place like this."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Arnold, with Miss Bowes to look after her, +went to the farm to seek fresh garments. As for +the girls, there was nothing for it but to go to bed +for an hour or two, while a band of servers lighted +a good fire, wrung the water from the drenched<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[Pg 179]</a></span> +articles of clothing, and held them to the blaze. +Blankets were commandeered freely from other +beds, and piled round the seven heroines, who, +propped up with pillows, each had a kind of reception +as she sipped her hot cocoa.</p> + +<p>"We all of us forgot about the boat," said Rona +suddenly. "It's drifting upside down, and the oars +are anywhere."</p> + +<p>"Never mind. David Lewis will get it somehow, +I suppose. It will drift towards the bank, and he'll +wade for it."</p> + +<p>"Where did you learn to swim like that, Rona?"</p> + +<p>"In the lake at home. We had one nearly as +big as this close to our farm."</p> + +<p>"The Cuckoo's turned up trumps," murmured +Alice Denham. "I didn't know she was capable +of it."</p> + +<p>"Then it only shows how extremely stupid and +unobservant you are," snapped Ulyth.</p> + +<p>The servers declared afterwards that drying +clothes round a bonfire was the most exciting duty +they had ever performed. Gusts of wind blew the +flames in sudden puffs, necessitating quick snatching +away of garments in the danger zone. Shoes +were the most difficult of all, and needed copious +greasing to prevent their growing stiff.</p> + +<p>"I wonder if the Ancient Britons went through +this performance?" said Winnie Fowler. "Did +they have to hold their skin garments round camp-fires? +Thank goodness, we've got these things +dry at last! We're only in the nick of time. Here +comes the rain."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[Pg 180]</a></span></p> + +<p>It was a melancholy truth. The Welsh mountains +have a perverse habit of attracting clouds, +even in June; the sky, which had been overcast +since midday, was now inky dark, and great drops +began to fall. It was a calamity, but one for which +everybody was fully prepared. The patrols rushed +round the camp loosening ropes, lest the swelling +hemp should draw the pegs from the ground, and +took a last tour of inspection to see that no bed +was in contact with the canvas.</p> + +<p>"If you even touch the inside of the tent with +your hand you'll bring the water through," urged +Catherine in solemn warning; "so, for your own +sakes, you'd best be careful. You don't want to +spend the night in a puddle."</p> + +<p>It was a new experience to sit inside tents while +the storm howled outside. Rain up at Llyn +Gwynedd was no mere summer shower, but a +driving deluge. Servers in waterproofs scuttled +round with cans of hot tea and baskets of bread +and butter, and the girls had a picnic meal sitting +on their beds. One tent blew over altogether, and +its distressed occupants, crawling from under the +flapping ruin, were received as refugees by their +immediate neighbours. Fortunately the storm, +though severe, was short. By seven o'clock it +had expended its fury, and passed away down the +valley towards Craigwen, leaving blue sky and +the promise of a sunset behind. Glad to emerge +from their cramped quarters, the girls came out +and compared experiences. There was plenty to +be done. The fallen tent had to be erected, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[Pg 181]</a></span> +various cans and utensils which had been left outside +must be collected and wiped before they had +time to rust.</p> + +<p>"This is the prose of camp-life," said Catherine, +picking the gravy-strainer out of a puddle and +rinsing it in the lake. "I hope we shall get the +poetry to-morrow again."</p> + +<p>"Oh, it's lovely fun when it rains!" twittered +some of the younger ones.</p> + +<p>Mr. Arnold came down from the farm to inquire +rather anxiously how the camp was faring after the +storm, and particularly to have news of the girls +who had been in the lake. He had left Mrs. Arnold +in bed, still rather upset with the shock of the +accident.</p> + +<p>"I feel responsible for bringing you all here," +he said to Miss Teddington. "I shan't be easy in +my mind now till the whole crew's safe back at The +Woodlands."</p> + +<p>"We've taken no harm," Miss Teddington assured +him. "The girls kept dry, and they're as +jolly as possible; indeed, I think most of them +thoroughly enjoyed the rain."</p> + +<p>Llyn Gwynedd, after showing what it could do +in the way of storms, provided fine weather for the +next day. The ground soon dried, and camp-life +continued in full swing. Mrs. Arnold, herself again +after a night's rest, took the morning drill, and led +a ramble up the slope of Glyder Garmon in the +afternoon. She was the heart and soul of the +"stunt" that evening.</p> + +<p>The girls, at any rate, were sorry to say good<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[Pg 182]</a></span>-bye +to the lake on Friday morning, whatever their +elders might feel on the subject.</p> + +<p>"I hope the Boy Scouts will have as ripping a +time as we've had," was the general verdict when, +having left the camp in perfect order, the procession +set out to tramp down to Aberglyn.</p> + +<p>"Barring total immersions in the lake, please," +said Mr. Arnold, as he returned the parting salute.</p> + +<p>"But that was an opportunity," urged Ulyth. +"I wish it had come my way. Rona, Madge, and +Marion will all get special bravery medals at next +quarterly meeting. I've no luck!"</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em"> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[Pg 183]</a></span> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIV" id="CHAPTER_XIV"></a><a href="#TOC_XIV">CHAPTER XIV</a></h2> + +<h3>Susannah Maude</h3> +</div> + +<p>The girls at The Woodlands, while they contributed +to various charities, had one special and +particular object of interest. For several years +they had supported a little girl at an orphanage. +She was called their orphan, and twice a year they +received accounts of her progress. They sent her +a Christmas present annually, and her neat little +letter of thanks was handed round for everybody +to read. Poor Susannah Maude was the daughter +of very disreputable parents; she had been rescued +from a travelling caravan at the age of ten, and +the authorities at the Alexandra Home had done +their best to obliterate her past life from her +memory. When she reached school-leaving age the +question of her future career loomed on the horizon. +After considerable correspondence with the matron, +Miss Bowes had at length decided to have the girl +at The Woodlands, and try the experiment of +training her as a kitchen-maid. So in February +Susannah Maude had arrived, small and undersized, +with a sharp little face and beady, black +eyes, and a habit of sniffing as if she had a perpetual +cold.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[Pg 184]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Not a bit like the blue-eyed, flaxen-haired +orphan of fiction," decided the girls, rather disappointed +at the sight of their protégée.</p> + +<p>Perhaps the cook was disappointed too. At any +rate, many complaints of smashed dishes, imperfect +wiping, and inadequate sweeping of corners reached +Miss Bowes, who urged patience, harangued the +culprit, and shook her head, half laughing and half +sighing, over the domestic catastrophes. Though +strictly confined to the kitchen regions, the orphan +took the deepest interest in the young ladies of the +school. Her keen eyes would peer out of windows, +and her head bob round doors in continual efforts +to gain some idea of their mode of life. A chance +word from one of them wreathed her in smiles. +She was a funny, odd little object with her short +squat figure and round bullet head, and thin little +legs appearing underneath her official white apron. +Her official name was Susan, but every girl in the +school called her Susannah Maude. At the instigation +of Miss Bowes her patrons took the furthering +of her education in hand, and each in turn +bestowed half an hour a day in hearing her read +history, geography, or some other suitable subject. +A little bewildered among so many fresh teachers, +the small maid nevertheless made what efforts she +could, and read loud and lustily, even if she did +not altogether digest the matter she was supposed +to be studying.</p> + +<p>"I believe she reads the words without taking +in a scrap of the sense," laughed Ulyth, when her +turn as instructress was over. "She was gazing<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[Pg 185]</a></span> +at my dress, or my watch, or my handkerchief whenever +she could spare an eye from her book. She +thinks them of far more importance than Henry +VIII."</p> + +<p>"So she does," agreed Lizzie. "I tried to get +her interested yesterday in the number of his wives—I +thought the Bluebeard aspect of it might move +her—but she only said: 'What does it matter when +they're all dead?' I felt so blank that I couldn't +say any more."</p> + +<p>Nobody quite remembered whose idea it was +that their orphan should be invited to the Camp-fire +meetings. Somebody in a soft-hearted moment +suggested it, and Mrs. Arnold replied: "Oh yes, +poor little soul! Bring her, by all means." So +Susannah Maude had come, and once there she +apparently regarded herself as a member of the +League, and turned up on every available occasion. +How much she understood of the proceedings or +of the scope of the society nobody could fathom. +She sat, during the meetings, bolt upright, with +folded arms, as if she were in school, her bright, +beady eyes fixed unblinkingly upon Mrs. Arnold, +whom she seemed to regard as a species of priestess +in charge of occult mysteries.</p> + +<p>"Would I be struck dumb if I told what goes +on here?" she asked Ulyth one day; and, although +she was assured that no such act of vengeance on +the part of Providence would overtake her, she +nevertheless preserved a secrecy worthy of a Freemason, +and would drop no hint in the kitchen as to +the nature of the ceremonies she witnessed.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[Pg 186]</a></span></p> + +<p>One or two points evidently made a great impression +upon her. During the spring months +Nature lore was very much to the fore, and the +members qualified for candidateship to the various +grades by exhibiting their knowledge of the ways +and habits of birds. Notes of observations were +read aloud at the meetings, particulars recorded of +nests that had been built in the school grounds, +with data as to the number of days in which eggs +were hatched and the young ones fledged. It was +an unwritten law at The Woodlands never to disturb +the birds. The girls were not allowed to take +any eggs from the nests, and were taught not to +frighten a sitting bird or to interfere with the fledge-lings. +After several years of such consideration +The Woodlands had become a kind of bird sanctuary, +where the little songsters appeared to know +they were free from molestation. That the fruit in +the garden suffered rather a heavy toll was true; +but, as Miss Bowes remarked: "One can't have +everything. We must remember how many insects +they clear away, and not grudge them a few +currants and gooseberries. They pay us by their +lovely songs in the spring."</p> + +<p>Ulyth was a great devotee of Nature study, and +had the supreme satisfaction of being the first to +discover that a pair of long-tailed tits were building +in a gorse-bush down the paddock. She was immensely +excited, for they were rather rare birds in +that district, and generally nested much higher up +on the hills. This was indeed the only instance on +record of their having selected The Woodlands for<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[Pg 187]</a></span> +their domestic operations. As she had made the +discovery, it was her particular privilege to take +the observations, and every day she would go very +quietly and cautiously and seat herself near the +spot to note the doings of the shy little architects. +It was a subject of intense interest to watch the +globular nest grow, and then to ascertain, when +the parents were out of the way, that eggs had +actually been laid in it. Ulyth was so afraid of +disturbing the tits that she conducted her daily +observations alone, fearing lest even Lizzie's presence +might frighten them. "When there are two +of us we can't help talking, and an unusual sound +scares them worse than anything," she decided.</p> + +<p>One morning she started for her daily expedition +to the paddock. The little hen had been sitting +long enough to make Ulyth think the eggs must +surely be hatched, and that probably the parents +were both already busy catering for their progeny. +She crept noiselessly round the corner to the hollow +where the bushes were situated. Then she +gave a gasp and a cry of horror. On the ground, +quite close to the nest, knelt Susannah Maude, +busily occupied in smearing some sticky white +substance over the lower boughs and shoots of +the gorse-bushes. She looked round with a beaming +face as Ulyth approached. Her beady eyes +twinkled with self-congratulation.</p> + +<p>"Susannah! What are you doing, you young +imp of mischief?" exclaimed Ulyth in an agony.</p> + +<p>"Catching your birds for you, Miss," responded +the orphan, a thrill of pride in her voice. "It's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[Pg 188]</a></span> +bird-lime, this is, and it'll soon stick 'em, you'll +see. I knows all about it, for my father was a +bird-catcher, and I often went with him when I +was a kid. I'd a job to get the lime, I can tell +you, but Bobby Jones brought me some from +Llangarmon."</p> + +<p>She looked at Ulyth with a smile, as if waiting +for the praise that she deemed due to her efforts. +Utterly aghast, Ulyth stammered:</p> + +<p>"But, Susannah Maude, we—we don't want the +birds caught."</p> + +<p>The orphan appeared puzzled. A shade crossed +her sharp little face.</p> + +<p>"Not want to catch 'em? What's the use of 'em, +then? Dad caught 'em and sold 'em."</p> + +<p>Ulyth had to keep a strong curb over her temper. +After all, how could this ignorant child know what +she had never been taught? Miss Bowes might +well preach patience and forbearance.</p> + +<p>"It's very cruel to snare the birds with lime at +any time, especially now, when they have young +ones who would starve without them," she explained +with what calm she could muster. "Promise +me that you will never try to do such a thing +again, and never interfere with any of the nests. +Mrs. Arnold will be most grieved to hear of this."</p> + +<p>The orphan's black eyes filled with tears.</p> + +<p>"Will she mind? I thought she'd like 'em to +keep in a cage as pets. I'd do anything in the +world to please her."</p> + +<p>"Then leave the birds alone, if you want to +please her. Run now to the house and fetch me<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[Pg 189]</a></span> +a basin full of hot water and a cloth. I must wipe +all this horrible stuff off the bushes. Bring a knife, +too, for I shall have to cut away some of the +branches and burn them. I hope the tits won't +desert."</p> + +<p>Ulyth was late for school that morning, but the +offence was condoned by Miss Teddington when +she heard the reason.</p> + +<p>"I hope you washed every scrap of the lime off?" +she asked anxiously.</p> + +<p>"I didn't leave it while there was enough to +catch even a bumble-bee. The birds are back. +They came directly I'd gone a dozen yards away."</p> + +<p>"That shows the young ones are hatched. I +hope Susan won't direct her energies into any +other natural-history experiments."</p> + +<p>"We shall be sorry we brought her to the Camp-fire +if she does. She means well, but the worst +of her is that you never can calculate in the least +what she may do next. She's a problem."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>During the summer term the Camp-fire Guild +had many informal meetings by the stream. The +girls were often allowed to take tea there, a permission +which they highly appreciated. Mrs. +Arnold had lent them a small camp-oven, in which +they could bake cakes, and many culinary efforts +resulted from the acquisition. On Saturday afternoon +Gertrude Oliver and Addie Knighton were on +the cooking-list as special scouts, and, having mixed +some currant-buns, placed them carefully in the +oven. They were in charge of the camp-fire and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[Pg 190]</a></span> +responsible for the preparation of the tea, to which +that day all the mistresses were to be specially invited. +The rest of the school were in the playing-field +practising flag-signalling under the joint +superintendence of Mrs. Arnold and Miss Teddington.</p> + +<p>"It's a nuisance we can't leave the cakes," sighed +Addie. "I did so want to see them send that +message about the aeroplane."</p> + +<p>"They're baking all right," said Gertrude. "We +can't make them any quicker by looking at them. +Couldn't we just run to the top of the gravel-pit +and watch for a few minutes? There's Susannah +Maude; she'd keep an eye on them. Hello! +Susan!"</p> + +<p>The orphan, in virtue of being a hanger-on of +the Camp-fire, was wandering about by the stream +in the wake of the proceedings. She came running +up eagerly at Gertrude's call.</p> + +<p>"I'll mind 'em for you, Miss. I've watched +Cook dozens of times. I'll look after the kettle +too. You leave it to me."</p> + +<p>"I hope it won't be a case of King Alfred and +the cakes."</p> + +<p>Susan grinned comprehension.</p> + +<p>"Standard V Historical Reader. Not me!" she +chuckled. "I always thought the woman was a +silly to trust a man to turn the cakes."</p> + +<p>"Well, mind you show up better. You might +as well put the milk-can in the stream to keep cool. +We don't want it curdled, and I'm certain there's +thunder about."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[Pg 191]</a></span></p> + +<p>Addie and Gertie were sure they were not absent +long. They just stood and watched a few messages +being sent, then ran back promptly to their +duties.</p> + +<p>Susannah Maude was in the very act of trying +to lift the big camp-kettle from its trivet.</p> + +<p>"Hold hard there!" screamed Addie, running +to the rescue. "You can't move that alone. +Susan! Stop!" It was too late, however. The +small busybody had managed to stir the kettle, but, +her youthful arms being quite unequal to sustaining +its weight, she let it drop, retreating with a wild +Indian yell of alarm. The stream of boiling water +fortunately escaped her, but nearly put out the +fire. When the steam and dust had subsided, the +rueful scouts picked up the empty kettle gingerly, +as it was hot.</p> + +<p>"We shall have to build up the fire again," +lamented Gertrude. "Oh, Addie, the cakes!"</p> + +<p>She might well exclaim. In a row among the +ashes were the soaked, dust-covered remains of the +precious currant-buns.</p> + +<p>"I took 'em out of the oven because they were +done," explained Susan hastily, justifying herself. +"I thought you shouldn't blame me for letting 'em +burn, anyhow; and I put 'em down there on some +dock-leaves to keep hot. I couldn't tell the kettle +would fall on 'em."</p> + +<p>"They're done for," sighed Addie. "There +isn't one fit to eat. Help us to fill the kettle again +as soon as you can, and fetch some more sticks and +gorse, you black-eyed Susan!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[Pg 192]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Where's the milk-can?" asked Gertrude uneasily.</p> + +<p>"I put it in the stream as you told me," replied +the orphan rather sulkily, indicating with a nod +the location.</p> + +<p>Decidedly anxious as to its safety, the girls ran +to the water-side. They always put the can in a +particular little sheltered corner fenced in by a few +stones. Susannah had helped them to place it +there many times, and had even named the spot +"the dairy". They looked in vain. The milk +was certainly not there now.</p> + +<p>"What in the name of thunder have you done +with the can, you wretched imp?" shouted Addie, +thoroughly angry.</p> + +<p>"You said it ought to keep very cool, so I threw +it into the deep pool. 'Tain't my fault," retorted +Susannah, who had a temper as well as her benefactresses.</p> + +<p>"I've half a mind to throw you after it!" raged +Gertie, her fingers twitching to shake the luckless +orphan.</p> + +<p>Perhaps Susannah's experienced eye gauged the +extent of her wrath, and decided that for once she +had gone too far. She did not wait to proffer any +more explanations, but turned and fled back towards +the house, resuming her neglected pan-scouring +in the scullery with a zeal that astonished +the cook.</p> + +<p>Addie and Gertie replenished the camp-fire and +refilled the kettle; but the cakes were hopeless, and +the milk was beyond recall. Doris Deane, the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[Pg 193]</a></span> +champion swimmer of the school, dived for the can +next morning and brought it up empty; the lid +was never recovered, probably having been washed +into a hole.</p> + +<p>The Guild sat down that afternoon rather disconsolately +to milkless tea. Addie had begged a small +jugful from the kitchen, enough for their guests, +the mistresses, but it was impossible to replace the +big two-gallon can at a moment's notice.</p> + +<p>"I begin to wish the school had never supported +an orphan at the 'Alexandra Home for Destitute +Children'," sighed Gertie, eating plain bread and +butter, and thinking regretfully of her spoilt cakes. +"I vote next term we ask to give up collecting for +it, and keep a monkey at the Zoo instead. We +could send it nuts and biscuits at Christmas."</p> + +<p>"And currant-buns?" giggled Beth Broadway.</p> + +<p>"You are about the most unfeeling wretch I ever +came across!" snapped Gertrude.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em"> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[Pg 194]</a></span> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XV" id="CHAPTER_XV"></a><a href="#TOC_XV">CHAPTER XV</a></h2> + +<h3>A Point of Honour</h3> +</div> + +<p>"Lizzie," announced Ulyth, sitting down on a +stump in the glade, and speaking slowly and emphatically, +"The Woodlands isn't what it used to +be."</p> + +<p>"So Stephanie was saying the other day," agreed +Lizzie, taking a seat on the stump by the side of +her friend. "She thinks it's a different place +altogether."</p> + +<p>"It is; though not exactly from Stephie's point +of view. I don't care the least scrap that there are +no Vernons or Courtenays or Derringtons here +now. Stephie can lament them if she likes. I +never knew them, so I can't regret them. There's +one thing I can't help noticing, though—the tone +has been going down."</p> + +<p>"Do you think it has?" replied Lizzie thoughtfully. +"Merle and Alice and Mary are rather +silly, certainly, but there's not much harm in them."</p> + +<p>"I don't mean our form; it's the juniors. I've +noticed it continually lately."</p> + +<p>"Now you come to speak of it, so have I. I don't +quite know what it is, but there's a something."</p> + +<p>"There's a very decided something. It's come +on quite lately, but it's there. They're not be<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[Pg 195]</a></span>having +nicely at all. They've slacked all round, +and do nothing but snigger among themselves +over jokes they won't tell."</p> + +<p>"They're welcome to their own jokes as far as +I'm concerned, the young idiots!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, if it's only just fun; but I'm afraid it's +something more than that—something they're +ashamed of and really want to hide. I've seen such +shuffling and queer business going on when any of +the monitresses came in sight."</p> + +<p>"Have you said anything to Catherine or Helen?"</p> + +<p>"No, and I don't want to. It's very unfortunate, +but they've really got no tact. Catherine's so high-handed, +and Helen's nearly as bad. They snap the +girls up for the least trifle. The result is the +juniors have got it into their tiresome young heads +that monitresses are a species of teacher. They +weren't intended to be that at all. A monitress is +just one of ourselves, only with authority that we +all allow. She ought to be jolly with everybody."</p> + +<p>"Um! You can hardly call Catherine jolly with +the kids."</p> + +<p>"That's just it. They resent it; they've gone +their own way lately, and it's been decidedly downhill. +I'm persuaded they're playing some deep and +surreptitious game at present. I wish I knew what +it was."</p> + +<p>"Can't Rona tell you?"</p> + +<p>"I wouldn't pump Rona for the world. It's +most frightfully difficult for her, a junior, to be +room-mate with a senior. Her form always suspect +her of giving them away to the Upper School.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[Pg 196]</a></span> +Rona's had a hard enough struggle to get any +footing at all at The Woodlands, and I don't want +to make it any harder for her. If she once gets the +reputation of 'tell-tale' she's done for. Since +Stephanie made that fuss about juniors coming +into senior rooms I mayn't ask her into V <span class="smcap">b</span>; so +if she's ostracized by her own form too she'll be +neither fish, flesh, fowl, nor good red herring. No; +however I find out it mustn't be through Rona."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I quite see your point. Now you speak +of it, I believe those juniors are up to something. +There's a prodigious amount of whispering and +sniggering among them. 'What's the joke?' I +said to Tootie Phillips yesterday, and she flared +out in the most truculent manner: 'That's our own +business, thank you!'"</p> + +<p>"Tootie has been making herself most objectionable +lately. She wants sitting upon."</p> + +<p>"Catherine will do that, never fear."</p> + +<p>"No doubt, but it doesn't bring us any nearer +finding out what those juniors are after."</p> + +<p>"They vanish mysteriously after tea sometimes. +I vote we watch them, and next time it happens +we'll stalk them."</p> + +<p>"Right-O! But not a word to anybody else, or +it might get about and put them on their guard."</p> + +<p>"Trust me! I wouldn't even flicker an eyelid."</p> + +<p>Now that Ulyth and Lizzie had compared notes +on the subject of the juniors, they became more +convinced than ever of the fact that something +surreptitious was going on. Nods, hints, words +which apparently bore a hidden meaning, nudges,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[Pg 197]</a></span> +and signs were the order of the day. All friendly +advances on the part of seniors were repelled, the +younger girls keeping strictly to themselves. This +was the more marked as there had never been any +very great division at The Woodlands between +Upper and Lower School, the whole of the little +community sharing in most of the general interests.</p> + +<p>After tea there was a short interval before evening +preparation began, and during the summer term +this was spent, if possible, out-of-doors by everybody. +One afternoon, only a few days after the +conversation just recorded, the girls had filed as +usual from the dining-hall, and were racing off for +tennis, basket-ball, or a run by the stream. As +Ulyth, down on her knees in the darkest part of +the hall cupboard, groped for her mislaid tennis-shoes, +two members of IV <span class="smcap">b</span> came in for a moment +to fetch balls. They were in a hurry and they evidently +did not perceive her presence.</p> + +<p>"Did you get the tip?" Irene Scott asked Ethel +Jephson under her breath. "By the lower pool +immediately."</p> + +<p>"All serene! Tootie told me herself."</p> + +<p>"Pass it on then; though I think most know."</p> + +<p>As they ran down the passage, Ulyth, relinquishing +her hunt for the missing shoes, rose to her feet.</p> + +<p>"There's one here who didn't know," she +chuckled. "This is a most important piece of information. +Immediately, by the lower pool, is it? +Well, I must go and find Lizzie. What are those +precious juniors up to, I wonder?"</p> + +<p>Lizzie was taking her racket for a game of tennis,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[Pg 198]</a></span> +but she readily gave up her place to Merle Denham +at a hint from Ulyth.</p> + +<p>"I told you they vanished after tea," she said, +as the two girls sauntered into the glen. "We'll +track them this time. Don't on any account look +as if you were going anywhere. Sit down here +and give them a few minutes' grace, in case +stragglers come up. They probably won't begin +punctually. I'll time it by my watch."</p> + +<p>When five minutes had elapsed there was not a +solitary junior to be seen in the glade, and Ulyth +and Lizzie, deeming themselves safe, set out in the +direction of the lower pool.</p> + +<p>This was a part of the stream at the very verge +of the grounds belonging to The Woodlands; indeed, +the greater portion of it lay in the land of +a neighbouring farmer, and to reach its pebbly +bank meant a scramble round some palings and +under a projecting piece of rock.</p> + +<p>Ulyth and Lizzie were too wary to follow the +juniors by this path, but scaled the palings at +another point, and under cover of a thick copse of +gorse-bushes approached the pool from the side +that lay in the farmer's field. By most careful +scouting they found a spot on the bank where they +could see and hear without being seen.</p> + +<p>Below them, seated on the rocks by the edge of +the water, were practically almost the whole of the +Lower School. They cuddled close, with their arms +round each other, and to judge from their repressed +giggles they appeared to be enjoying themselves. +Tootie Phillips, a long-legged, excitable girl of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[Pg 199]</a></span> +thirteen, mounted upon a boulder, was addressing +them with much fervour. Ulyth and Lizzie missed +the beginning of her remarks, but when they came +within earshot they realized that she was in the +midst of a vigorous harangue against the seniors.</p> + +<p>"Are we to be trodden down just because we're +a little younger than they are?" urged Tootie. +"Why should they lord it over us, I should like to +know? They were juniors themselves only a year +or two ago. I tell you the worm will turn."</p> + +<p>"It's turned pretty considerably," guffawed +Cissie Newall.</p> + +<p>"It knows which side its bread's buttered," +cackled Irene Scott.</p> + +<p>"Buttered! You mean sugared, don't you?"</p> + +<p>At this sally the whole party broke into a shout +of laughter.</p> + +<p>"Good for you, Ciss!"</p> + +<p>"Sugared! Ra—ther!"</p> + +<p>"Shut up, you sillies! Someone will hear us," +commanded Tootie. "I was saying before, we're +not going to be sat upon, either by teachers or +monitresses or seniors. We'll take our own way."</p> + +<p>"A sugary way," chirped Ethel Jephson.</p> + +<p>The girls hinnied again. There was evidently +something underlying the joke.</p> + +<p>"When perfectly ridiculous rules are made, that +never ought to have been made," continued Tootie, +"then we've a right to take the law into our own +hands and do as we please."</p> + +<p>"Our pocket money's our own," grumbled a discontented +spirit from the back.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[Pg 200]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Of course it is, and we ought to be able to do +what we like with it."</p> + +<p>"And so are our brooches, if we want to——"</p> + +<p>"Sh—sh!"</p> + +<p>"Shut up, stupid!"</p> + +<p>"Well, we all know."</p> + +<p>"No need to blare it out, if we do."</p> + +<p>"I wasn't blaring."</p> + +<p>"Violet Robertson, remember your oath," commanded +Tootie. "If you let a word of—we know +what—leak out, you're sent to Coventry for the rest +of the term. Yes. Not a single one of us will +speak one single word to you. Not even your own +room-mates. So there!"</p> + +<p>"Well, you needn't make such a precious fuss. +I'm sure I wasn't letting out secrets," retorted +Violet sulkily. "But I think there ought to be +some rate of value. My brooch was a far better +one than Mollie's."</p> + +<p>"Right you are, my hearty, and I'm going to +speak about it. We mustn't let ourselves be done, +even by—you know who!"</p> + +<p>"And she's sharp."</p> + +<p>"She's getting too sharp. We must stop it, even +if we have to break off for a whole week."</p> + +<p>"No, no!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, not that anyhow!"</p> + +<p>"Well, look here, if you're such sillies, you +deserve——"</p> + +<p>But at this most interesting point the loud clanging +of the preparation-bell put a stop to any further +argument. With one accord the girls jumped up,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[Pg 201]</a></span> +and fled back as fast as they could run in the direction +of the school. Ulyth and Lizzie, at the risk +of being late for evening call-over, gave the conspirators +time to get well away before they ventured +to follow.</p> + +<p>"What's the meaning of all this?" queried Lizzie, +as they scouted cautiously through the glade.</p> + +<p>"I can't imagine. They're evidently doing something +they oughtn't to, the young wretches! But +they're keeping it very dark."</p> + +<p>"We shall have to watch them."</p> + +<p>"We must indeed," sighed Ulyth. "Lizzie, I +loathe eavesdropping and anything that savours of +underhand work, but what are we to do? Something +is going wrong among the juniors, and for +the sake of the school we've got to put it right if we +possibly can. It's no use asking them their sweet +secret, for they wouldn't tell us; and I'm afraid +setting the monitresses on the track would only +make things worse. If we can find out what +they're doing, then we shall know our ground. +I'm a Torch-bearer and you're a Fire-maker, and +we must appeal to them to keep their Camp-fire +vows. But we can't do that till we've some idea +of which rule they're breaking. How can we say +to them: 'I strongly suspect you're not being +trustworthy'? We've got to prove our words."</p> + +<p>"Prove them we will. We'll dodge about till +we catch them in the act," agreed Lizzie.</p> + +<p>To both the girls it was uncongenial though +necessary work. As seniors and League officers +they felt they owed a duty to the school, but that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[Pg 202]</a></span> +it would be far wiser to appeal privately to the +juniors' sense of honour, and win them back to +straight paths of their own free will, than to carry +the matter to head-quarters. For the present, +patience and tact must be their watchwords.</p> + +<p>Several days went by, and nothing particular +occurred. Either the younger girls were on their +guard or they had suspended their activities. On +Friday evening, however, as Ulyth was coming +along the passage from practising, she accidentally +cannonaded into half a dozen members of IV <span class="smcap">b</span> +who were standing near the boot cupboard. She +evidently surprised them, for one and all they +hastily popped their hands into their pockets. It +was promptly done, but not so quickly as to prevent +Ulyth from seeing that they were eating +something.</p> + +<p>"It's all right," gasped Bertha Halliwell, with +apparent unconcern, in reply to Ulyth's apologies. +"You nearly upset me, but I'm not fractured."</p> + +<p>"I wish you'd take care, though," grumbled +Etta Jessop, surreptitiously wiping a decidedly sticky +mouth; "no one likes being tumbled over."</p> + +<p>Ulyth passed on thoughtfully. What had they +all been munching, and where did they get it from? +Private supplies of cakes and sweets were utterly +forbidden at The Woodlands. Their prohibition +was one of the strictest rules of the school, to break +which would be to incur a very severe penalty from +Miss Teddington. Was this the explanation of +Tootie's rather enigmatical remarks down by the +stream?<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[Pg 203]</a></span></p> + +<p>"If that's their precious secret, and they're just +being greedy, I'm too disgusted with them for +words!" commented Lizzie, when informed of the +discovery.</p> + +<p>Saturday and Monday passed with quite exemplary +behaviour on the part of the juniors. The +keenest vigilance could discover nothing. But on +Tuesday Lizzie came across another clue. She had +been monitress for the afternoon in the drawing-class, +and after the girls had left she stayed behind +to put away various articles that had been used and +to tidy the room.</p> + +<p>As she worked along the desks where IV <span class="smcap">b</span> had +been sitting, collecting stray pencils and pieces of +india-rubber, she noticed a book lying on the floor +and picked it up. It was a French grammar, with +"Etta Jessop" written on the fly-leaf and had +evidently been accidentally dropped. She turned +over the pages idly. In the middle was a scrap of +paper torn from an exercise-book, and on this was +scribbled: "Where will she be to-night?" while in +a different hand, underneath, as if in answer to the +question, were the words: "Side gate at 8. Pass, +'John Barleycorn'."</p> + +<p>This was most important. It was the first, indeed +the only definite, information they had to go upon. +Lizzie replaced the slip of paper and laid the book +on the floor just where she had found it. Etta +would no doubt soon discover her loss, and come +back to fetch it. In the meantime this very valuable +piece of news must be communicated to Ulyth.</p> + +<p>The chums talked the matter over earnestly.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[Pg 204]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Something's happening at the side gate at +eight o'clock, and they've got a password; that's +clear," said Lizzie.</p> + +<p>"Then I think it's our plain duty to go and +investigate," returned Ulyth. "If the worst comes +to the worst we could report ourselves, and tell +Teddie why we went. She'd understand."</p> + +<p>"I hope it won't need that," fluttered Lizzie +nervously.</p> + +<p>The girls were not allowed out of the house after +preparation, so any excursions into the garden were +distinctly against the rules.</p> + +<p>Feeling very culpable at thus breaking the law +of the school, Ulyth and Lizzie crept quietly from +the cloak-room door soon after eight had struck. +It was not yet dark, but the sun had sunk behind +the hills, and the garden was in deep shadow. +They passed the tennis-courts and the rose parterre, +and ran down the steps into the herbarium. Just +at the outskirts of the shrubbery a small figure was +skulking among the bushes. At the sound of footsteps +it gave a low, peculiar whistle, then advanced +slightly from the shadow and stood at attention, as +if in mute challenge of the new-comers. Irene +Scott, for it was she, was evidently on sentry duty. +No one with a knowledge of camp-life could mistake +her attitude.</p> + +<p>"We'll bluff it off," whispered Ulyth, and, taking +Lizzie's arm, she marched quietly past, murmuring: +"John Barleycorn".</p> + +<p>The effect of the password was electrical. Irene +looked immensely astonished. She had certainly<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[Pg 205]</a></span> +not expected such knowledge on the part of +seniors.</p> + +<p>"Are you in it too? Oh, goody!" she gasped; +then very softly she called: "All's well!" and, +turning, dived back among the bushes.</p> + +<p>Lizzie and Ulyth pushed on towards the side +gate. It was open, and inside, under the shelter +of a big laurel, stood a woman with a basket. She +was a gipsy-looking person, with long ear-rings, +and she wore a red-and-yellow handkerchief tied +round her neck. As the girls approached she uncovered +her basket with a knowing smile.</p> + +<p>"I've brought plenty to-night, Missies," she said +ingratiatingly. "Cheesecakes and vanilla sandwiches +and coco-nut drops and cream wafers. +What'll you please to have?"</p> + +<p>"Are you selling them?" asked Ulyth in much +amazement.</p> + +<p>The woman glanced at her keenly.</p> + +<p>"I've not seen you two before," she remarked. +"Yes, dearie, I'm selling them. They're wholesome +cakes, and won't do you any harm. Try +these cream wafers."</p> + +<p>"No, thanks! We don't want anything," stammered +Lizzie.</p> + +<p>"If you've spent all your money," persisted the +hawker, "I'm always open to take a trinket instead. +There's a young lady been here just now, and gave +me this in place of a sixpence," showing a small +brooch pinned into her bodice. "Of course such +things aren't worth much to me, but I'd do it to +oblige you."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[Pg 206]</a></span></p> + +<p>At the sight of the little brooch Ulyth flushed hotly.</p> + +<p>"We're not allowed to buy cakes and tarts," she +replied. "I'm sure Miss Bowes doesn't know that +you come here to sell things. It's not your fault, +of course, but please don't come again. It's breaking +the rules of the school."</p> + +<p>The woman covered up her basket in an instant.</p> + +<p>"All right, Missie, all right," she said suavely. +"I don't want to press things on you. That's not +my way. You won't catch me at this gate again, +I promise you. Good night!" and, slipping out +into the lane, she was gone directly.</p> + +<p>Ulyth shut the door and bolted it.</p> + +<p>"She mayn't come to this particular spot again," +said Lizzie, "but she'll find some other meeting-place, +the cunning old thing. I could see it in her +eye. So this is their grand secret! What a remarkably +honourable and creditable one!"</p> + +<p>"It's worse than I thought," groaned Ulyth. +"They must have been going on with this business +for some time, Lizzie. Do you know, that brooch +was Rona's. I recognized it at once. It's one she +brought from New Zealand, with a Maori device +on it."</p> + +<p>"I thought better of Rona."</p> + +<p>"So did I. She's improved so much I didn't +think she'd slip back in this way."</p> + +<p>"I believe Tootie Phillips is the ring-leader."</p> + +<p>"There's no doubt of it. From all we've seen, +the juniors have got a systematic traffic with this +woman, and post scouts to keep watch while she's +about. You heard Irene call: 'All's well!'"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[Pg 207]</a></span></p> + +<p>"They'll be feasting in their bedroom to-night."</p> + +<p>"Rona won't dare, surely. Lizzie, I shouldn't +have thought much of it if they'd done it once just +for a lark. We're all human, and juniors will be +juniors. But when it gets systematic, and they +begin to sell their brooches, that's a different +matter."</p> + +<p>"What are you going to do? Tackle the kids +and tell them we've found out, and they've got to +stop it?"</p> + +<p>"Will they really stop it just at our bidding? +Or will it only put them on their guard and make +them carry the thing on with more caution?"</p> + +<p>"Then give a hint to the monitresses?"</p> + +<p>"I wonder if we ought. I wish Catherine and +Helen were different."</p> + +<p>"Well, what do you suggest?"</p> + +<p>"There's only one other way. Mrs. Arnold is +coming to The Woodlands on Friday afternoon. +Suppose we wait, catch her alone, and tell her all +about it. She's our 'Guardian of the Fire', and +we ought to be able to ask her things when we're +in difficulties. She doesn't belong to the school, +so it isn't like telling a teacher or a monitress. We +know we can trust her absolutely."</p> + +<p>"Right-O! But it seems a long time to have to +wait."</p> + +<p>"It can't be helped," said Ulyth, as they hurried +back through the garden.</p> + +<p>She had decided, as she thought, for the best, +though, as the result proved, she had chosen a +most unfortunate course.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em"> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[Pg 208]</a></span> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVI" id="CHAPTER_XVI"></a><a href="#TOC_XVI">CHAPTER XVI</a></h2> + +<h3>Amateur Conjuring</h3> +</div> + +<p>Ulyth went to her bedroom that evening in much +agitation of mind. She was torn by conflicting +impulses. At one moment she longed to tax Rona +frankly with a breach of school rules, air the whole +subject, and state her most emphatic opinion upon +it. If Rona alone had been concerned in the +matter she would have done so without hesitation, +but the knowledge of the number of girls who were +involved made her pause.</p> + +<p>"I might do more harm than good," she reflected. +"After the way Tootie has been inciting +them to take sides against the seniors, they'd be +up in arms at the least hint. It will be worse if +they know they're discovered, and yet go on in an +even more underhand fashion."</p> + +<p>Ulyth's abstraction was so marked that her +room-mate could not fail to notice it.</p> + +<p>"What's the matter with you to-night?" she +asked. "I've never seen you so glum before. +Have you been getting into a row with Teddie?"</p> + +<p>"I'm all right. One can't always be talking, +I suppose," returned Ulyth rather huffily. "Some +people go on like a perpetual gramophone."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[Pg 209]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Meaning Corona Margarita Mitchell, I suppose? +As you like, O Queen! I'll shut up if my +babble offends the royal ears. There! Don't look +so tragic. I don't want to make myself a nuisance. +But all the same it's depressing to see you looking +like a mixture of Hamlet and Ophelia and Iphigenia +and—and—Don Quixote. Was he tragic too? I +forget."</p> + +<p>"Hardly," said Ulyth, smiling in spite of herself.</p> + +<p>"Well, I get mixed up among history and literature, +can't always remember which is real and +which is make-up. It's a fact. I put down Portia +as history in my exercise yesterday, and said the +story of the Spanish Armada was told by Chaucer. +Now you're laughing, and you look more like Ulyth +Stanton. Sit down on this bed. There! Open +your mouth and shut your eyes, and see what the +king will send you!"</p> + +<p>Rona was fumbling in her drawer as she spoke. +She turned round, seized her friend boisterously +and forced her on to the bed, then, holding a hand +over her eyes, crammed a chocolate almond into +her mouth.</p> + +<p>"Rona! What are you doing?" protested Ulyth, +shaking herself free. "Where did you get this +chocolate?"</p> + +<p>Rona pulled a face expressive of mingled secrecy, +delight, and triumph.</p> + +<p>"Rats!" she chuckled enigmatically. "Little +girls shouldn't ask questions."</p> + +<p>"But I want to know."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[Pg 210]</a></span></p> + +<p>"That's not sporty! Take the goods the gods +send you, and don't ask 'em what tree they picked +them from."</p> + +<p>"But, Rona——"</p> + +<p>"Are you two girls still out of bed and talking?" +said an indignant voice, as Miss Lodge opened the +door and glared reproval. "Make haste. I give +you three minutes, and if you're not ready by +then I shall report you. Not another word! I'm +astonished at you, Ulyth, for breaking the silence +rule."</p> + +<p>"I didn't hear the half-past nine bell," replied +Ulyth, abashed.</p> + +<p>"Then it's your business to hear it. It's loud +enough. Everybody else on the landing is in +bed."</p> + +<p>Miss Lodge put out the light and walked away, +with a final warning against further conversation. +Rona was asleep in a few minutes, breathing +calmly and peacefully as was her wont, but Ulyth +lay awake for a long time watching a shadow on +the wall cast from the beech-tree outside. Where +had Rona got her chocolates? The answer was +perfectly plain. With the little brooch for evidence +there could be no mistake.</p> + +<p>"She's not so bad as the others, because I really +don't think she quite realizes even yet what school +honour means. But Tootie and her scouts know. +There's no excuse for them. Well, only two days +now, and Mrs. Arnold will be here. What a tower +of strength she is! I can tell her everything. Friday +will very soon come now, thank goodness!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[Pg 211]</a></span></p> + +<p>But those two days were to bring events of their +own, events quite unprecedented in the school, and +unexpected by everybody. How they affected +Ulyth and Rona will be related farther on in our +story; but meantime, for a true understanding of +their significance, we must pause to consider a certain +feature of the life at The Woodlands. When +Miss Teddington had joined partnership with Miss +Bowes she had added many new ideas to the plan +of education which had formerly been pursued.</p> + +<p>She was determined that the school should not +be dubbed "old-fashioned", and by all means in +her power she kept it abreast of the times. So +well did she succeed that the girls were apt to complain +that their second Principal was a crank on +education, and fond of trying every fresh experiment +she could get hold of. The various enterprises +added an atmosphere of novelty, however, +and prevented the daily life from degenerating into +a dull routine. No one ever knew what scheme +Miss Teddington might suggest next; and even if +each course was not pursued for very long, it did +its work at the time, and was a factor in the general +plan. All kinds and varieties of health exercises +had had their day at The Woodlands—poles, +dumb-bells, clubs, had been in turn discarded for +deep breathing or for swimming motions. Slow +minuets or lively tarantellas were danced, according +to the fashion of the moment, and had the +virtue of teaching stately dignity as well as poetry +of motion. It was rumoured sometimes that Miss +Teddington, with her eye on the past, contem<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[Pg 212]</a></span>plated +a revival of backboards, stocks, and chest-expanders; +but those instruments of torture, fortunately, +never made their appearance, much to the +relief of the intended victims, who had viewed their +advent with apprehension.</p> + +<p>Naturally, dancing and indoor P.T. went on +mostly in the winter months, their place being +taken by outdoor drill during the summer term. +The Camp-fire movement had appealed to Miss +Teddington. She would herself have liked to be +"Guardian of the Fire" and general organizer of +the League, but her better judgment told her it was +wiser to leave that office to one who had not also +to wield the authority of a teacher. She supported +the League in every way that came within her +province. As Camp-fire honours were given for +nature study, astronomy, and geology, she took +care that all had a chance to qualify in those +directions; and lately, acting on a hint from Mrs. +Arnold, she had made a special point of manual +training. Since Christmas the studio had assumed +a new importance in the school. It was a big +glass-roofed room at the top of the house, reached +by a small stair from the west bedroom landing. +A carpenter's bench stood at one end of it, and +wood-carving went on fairly briskly. The girls +might come in at any time during their recreation +hours, and the occupation was a great resource on +wet days. Bookbinding, stencilling, clay modelling, +and fretwork were included among the hobbies, +and though there might not be definite lessons +given, there were handy primers of instruction on<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[Pg 213]</a></span> +the book-shelf, and it was interesting to try experiments.</p> + +<p>"Do something on your own initiative. Take +the book and puzzle it out, even if you make a few +mistakes," urged Miss Teddington. "Nothing but +practice can give you the right feel of your tools; +you'll learn more from a couple of failures than +from a week's work with a teacher at your elbow +the whole time, saying 'Don't!'"</p> + +<p>So the girls struggled on, making merry at each +other's often rather indifferent efforts, but gaining +more skill as they learnt to handle the materials +with which they worked. If the mallet hit the chisel +so vigorously as to spoil a part of the pattern, its +wielder was wiser next time; and the experimenters +in pyrography soon learned that a red-hot needle +used indiscreetly can dig holes in leather instead +of ornamenting it. Such "dufferisms", as the girls +called them, became rarer, and many quite creditable +objects were turned out, and judged worthy of +a temporary place on the view-shelf.</p> + +<p>Since Christmas a very special feature had been +added to the handicraft department. Miss Teddington +had caused apparatus to be fixed for the +working of art jewellery. A furnace and a high +bench with all necessary equipment had been duly +installed. This was a branch much too technically +difficult for the girls to attempt alone, so a skilled +teacher had been procured, who came weekly from +Elwyn Bay to give lessons. Those girls who took +the course became intensely enthusiastic over it. +To make even a simple chain was interesting, but<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[Pg 214]</a></span> +when they advanced to setting polished pebbles or +imitation stones as brooches or pendants, the work +waxed fascinating. Some of the students proved +much more adept than others, and turned out really +pretty things.</p> + +<p>There was not apparatus for many pupils to +work, so the class had been limited to seniors, +among whom Doris Deane, Ruth White, and +Stephanie Radford had begun to distinguish themselves. +Each had made a small pendant, and +while the craftsmanship might be amateurish, +the general effect was artistic. Miss Teddington +was delighted, and wishing to air her latest hobby, +she decided to send the three pendants, together +with some other specimens of school handiwork, +to a small Art exhibition which was to be held +shortly at Elwyn Bay. Miss Edwards, the teacher +who came weekly to give instruction, was on the +exhibition committee, and promised to devote a +certain case to the articles, and place them in +a good light. Though small shows had been +held at The Woodlands occasionally in connection +with the annual prize distribution, the school had +never before ventured to send a contribution to a +public exhibition, and those whose work was to be +thus honoured became heroines of the moment.</p> + +<p>On the very evening after Ulyth's and Lizzie's +excursion down the garden, a number of girls +repaired to the studio to view the objects that +Miss Teddington had chosen as worthy to represent +the artistic side of the school.</p> + +<p>"I wish I were a senior," said Winnie Fowler<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[Pg 215]</a></span> +plaintively. "I'd have loved this sort of thing. +To think of being able to make a little darling, +ducky brooch! It beats drawing hollow. I'd never +want to touch a pencil again."</p> + +<p>"You've got to have some eye for drawing, +though," said Doris, "or you'd have your things +all crooked. It's not as easy as eating chocolates, +I can tell you!"</p> + +<p>"I dare say. But I'll try some day, when I am +a senior."</p> + +<p>"Are these the three that are to go to the exhibition?" +asked Rona, pushing her way to the front. +"Which is which?"</p> + +<p>"This is mine, that's Ruth's, and that's Stephanie's," +explained Doris.</p> + +<p>"Why isn't Ulyth's to go? It's just as nice as +Stephanie's, I'm sure."</p> + +<p>"Miss Teddington decided that."</p> + +<p>"How idiotic of her! Why couldn't she send +Ulyth's? I think hers is the nicest, and it's just +the same pattern as Stephie's—exactly."</p> + +<p>"Do be quiet, Rona!" urged Ulyth, laying her +hand on the arm of her too partial friend. "My +pendant has a defect in it. I bungled, and couldn't +get it right again afterwards."</p> + +<p>"It doesn't show."</p> + +<p>"Not to you, perhaps; but any judge of such +things would notice in a moment."</p> + +<p>"Well, your work's as good as Stephanie's any +day, and I hate for her name to be put into the +catalogue and not yours. Yes, I mean what I +say."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[Pg 216]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Oh, Rona, do hush! I don't want my name in +a catalogue. Here's Stephie coming in. Don't let +her hear you."</p> + +<p>"I don't mind if she does. It won't do her any +harm to hear somebody's frank opinion."</p> + +<p>"Rona, if you care one atom for me, stop!"</p> + +<p>Rather grumbling, Rona allowed herself to be +suppressed. She was always ready to throw a shaft +at Stephanie, though she knew Ulyth heartily disliked +the scenes which invariably followed. She +took up Ulyth's pendant, however, and, after +ostentatiously admiring it, laid it for a moment side by +side with Stephanie's.</p> + +<p>"There isn't a pin to choose between them," she +murmured under her breath, hoping Stephanie +might overhear.</p> + +<p>Ulyth was at the other side of the room, but +Stephanie's quick ears caught the whisper. She +looked daggers at Rona, but she made no remark, +and Ulyth, returning, gently took her pendant +away and placed it with the other non-exhibits on +the bench. It had been a wet afternoon. No outdoor +exercise had been possible that day, and the +girls were tired of all their usual indoor occupations.</p> + +<p>"I wish somebody'd suggest something new to +cheer us up," yawned Nellie Barlow. "There's a +quarter of an hour more 'rec.' It's too short to be +worth while getting out any apparatus, but it's long +enough to be deadly dull."</p> + +<p>"Can't someone do some tricks?" asked Edie +Maycock.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[Pg 217]</a></span></p> + +<p>"All right, Toby; sit on your hind legs and beg +for biscuits," laughed Marjorie Earnshaw.</p> + +<p>"I mean real tricks—conjuring and fortune telling; +the amateur wizard, you know."</p> + +<p>"I don't know."</p> + +<p>"Then you're stupid. Have you never seen +amateur conjuring—coins that vanish, and things +that come out of hats?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; but I couldn't do it, my good child. +Being in the Sixth doesn't make me a magician."</p> + +<p>"We tried a little bit at home," pursued Edie. +"We had a book that told us how; only I never +could manage it quickly. People always saw how +I did it."</p> + +<p>"Rona's the girl for that," suggested Hattie +Goodwin.</p> + +<p>"Is she? Come here, Rona, I want you. Can +you really and truly do conjuring?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, not properly!" laughed Rona. "But when +I was on board ship there was a gentleman who +was very clever at it, and I and some boys I'd +made friends with were tremendously keen at +learning. We got him to show us a few easy +tricks, and we were always trying them. I could +manage it just a little, but I'm out of practice +now. You'd see in a second how it was done, +I'm afraid."</p> + +<p>"Oh, do show us, just for fun!"</p> + +<p>"What do you want to see?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, anything!"</p> + +<p>"The vanishing coin?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes. Go ahead!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[Pg 218]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Then give me two pennies or shillings, either +will do."</p> + +<p>The audience who had clustered round looked +at one another, each expecting somebody else to +produce a coin. Then everybody laughed.</p> + +<p>"We haven't got so much as a copper amongst +us! We're a set of absolute paupers!" declared +Doris. "Can't you do some other trick?"</p> + +<p>"There is nothing else I could manage so well," +said Rona disconsolately. "This was the only one +I really learnt."</p> + +<p>"Can't it be done with anything but coins?"</p> + +<p>"Something the same size and round, perhaps?"</p> + +<p>"My pendant?" said Ulyth, fetching the trinket +from the bench. "It's just as big as a penny."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I could try it with this and another like +it. Give me Stephanie's."</p> + +<p>"No, no! You shan't try tricks with mine!" +objected Stephanie indignantly.</p> + +<p>"I won't do it a scrap of harm."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Stephie, don't be mean! She'll not hurt +it. Here, Rona, take it!" exclaimed several of the +girls, anxious to witness the experiment.</p> + +<p>Stephanie's protests and grumbles were overridden +by the majority, and Rona, in her new +capacity of wizard, faced her audience.</p> + +<p>"It'll be rather transparent, because you oughtn't +really to know that I've got two pendants," she +explained apologetically. "Please forget, and +think it's only one. I must put some patter in, like +Mr. Thompson always used to do. Ladies and +gentleman, you've no doubt heard that the art of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[Pg 219]</a></span> +conjuring depends upon the quickness of the hand. +That's as it may be, but there is a great deal that +can't be accounted for in that way. Ladies and +gentlemen, you see this coin—or rather pendant, +as I should say. I am going to make it fly from +my left hand to my right. One, two, three—pass! +Here it is. Did you see it go? No. Well, I can +make it travel pretty quickly. Now we'll try another +pretty little experiment. You see my hand. It's +empty, isn't it? Yet when I wave it over this desk +Miss Stephanie Radford's pendant will be returned +to its place. Hey, presto! Pass! There you are! +Safe and sound and back again!"</p> + +<p>Stephanie took up her treasure and examined it +anxiously.</p> + +<p>"This isn't mine!" she declared.</p> + +<p>"Rubbish! It is."</p> + +<p>"I tell, you it isn't! Don't I know my own +work? This is Ulyth's. What have you done +with mine?"</p> + +<p>"Vanished under the wizard's wand," mocked +Rona.</p> + +<p>"Give it me this instant!" cried Stephanie +angrily, shaking Rona by the arm.</p> + +<p>Rona had been standing upon one leg, and the +unexpected assault completely upset her balance. +She toppled, clutched at Doris, and fell, bumping +her head against the corner of the table. It was +a hard blow, and as she got up she staggered.</p> + +<p>"I feel—all dizzy!" she gasped.</p> + +<p>An officious junior, quite unnecessarily, ran for +Miss Lodge, magnifying the accident so much in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[Pg 220]</a></span> +her highly coloured account that the mistress arrived +on the scene prepared to find Rona stretched unconscious. +Seeing that the girl looked white and +tearful, she ordered her promptly to bed.</p> + +<p>"It may be nothing, but any rate you will be +better lying down," she decreed. "Go downstairs, +girls, all of you. Nobody is to come into the studio +again to-night."</p> + +<p>"Rona had my pendant in her hand all the time," +grumbled Stephanie to Beth as she obeyed the +mistress's orders. "She dropped it as she fell. +I've put it back safely, though, and I don't mean +to let anybody interfere with it. I shall complain +to Miss Bowes if it's touched again."</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em"> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[Pg 221]</a></span> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVII" id="CHAPTER_XVII"></a><a href="#TOC_XVII">CHAPTER XVII</a></h2> + +<h3>A Storm-cloud</h3> +</div> + +<p>Rona woke up next morning without even a headache, +in Miss Lodge's opinion "justifying the +prompt measures taken", but according to the +girls, "showing there had been nothing the matter +with her to make such a fuss about". Breakfast +proceeded as usual, and afterwards came the short +interval before nine-o'clock school. Now on this +day the contributions to the Art exhibition were to +be packed up and dispatched by a special carrier, +and Stephanie, as a budding metalworker, ran +upstairs to the studio to take one last peep at her +exhibit. She flew down again with white face and +burning eyes.</p> + +<p>"Girls!" she cried shakily. "Girls! Somebody's +taken my pendant! It's gone!"</p> + +<p>"Why, nonsense, Stephie; it can't be gone! It +was there all right last night."</p> + +<p>"It's not there now. Ulyth's has been put in its +place, and mine's vanished. Come and see."</p> + +<p>There was an instant stampede for the studio.</p> + +<p>"It's probably on the bench," said Doris. +"Some people are such bad lookers. I expect +we shall find it directly."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[Pg 222]</a></span></p> + +<p>"You can't find a thing that isn't there," retorted +Stephanie with warmth.</p> + +<p>Doris considered herself an excellent looker, and, +in company with a dozen others, she searched the +studio. Willing hands turned everything over, +hunted under tables, on shelves, and among shavings, +but not a sign of the pendant could they find.</p> + +<p>"Are you sure this one isn't yours?" asked Ruth, +coming back to the exhibits.</p> + +<p>"Certain! I know my own work. This is +Ulyth's; and there's the mistake she made that +disqualified it."</p> + +<p>"Yours was put back last night?"</p> + +<p>"I saw it safe myself, after Rona'd been juggling +with it. Where is Rona? I believe she's at the +bottom of this."</p> + +<p>"She's in the garden."</p> + +<p>"Then she must be fetched."</p> + +<p>"What's the matter? What are you making a +bother about?" cried Rona, as an excited detachment +of girls stopped her game of tennis and asked +her a dozen questions at once. "What have I done +with Stephanie's pendant? Why, I've done nothing +with it, of course."</p> + +<p>"But you must have hidden it somewhere."</p> + +<p>"It's a mean trick to play on her."</p> + +<p>"You and Steph are always at daggers drawn."</p> + +<p>"Do go and put it back."</p> + +<p>"I can't think what you're talking about!" flared +Rona. "I've not even been inside the studio. If +a joke's being played on Stephanie, it's somebody +else who's doing it, not me. For goodness' sake<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[Pg 223]</a></span> +let me get on with my game. Come, Winnie, it's +your serve."</p> + +<p>The girls retired, whispering to one another. +They were not at all satisfied. The news of the +loss spread rapidly over the school, and had soon +reached the ears of the authorities. Miss Lodge, +who heard it from a monitress, at once sought +Miss Bowes' study. A few moments later she +went in a hurry to summon Miss Teddington, and +a rash junior who ventured within earshot was +sent away with a scolding. Miss Bowes looked +grave as she walked into the hall for call-over. +She took the names as usual, then, instead of dismissing +the forms, she paused impressively.</p> + +<p>"I have something to say to you, girls," she +began in a strained voice. "A most unpleasant +thing has happened this morning. The pendant +made by Stephanie Radford, which was to have +been sent to the Elwyn Bay Exhibition, has disappeared, +and Ulyth Stanton's pendant has been +substituted for it. It is, I suppose, a practical joke +on the part of one of you. Now I highly disapprove +of this foolish form of jesting; it is neither +clever nor funny, and is often very unkind. I beg +whoever has done this thing to come forward at +once and replace the pendant. She need have no +fear, for she will not be punished or even scolded, +though she must give me her word never to repeat +such a prank."</p> + +<p>Miss Bowes stopped, and looked expectantly at +the rows of intent eyes fixed upon her. Nobody +spoke and nobody moved. There was dead silence<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[Pg 224]</a></span> +in the hall. The Principal flushed with annoyance.</p> + +<p>"Girls, must I appeal to your honour? Is that +necessary at The Woodlands? Have I actually +one among you so lacking in moral courage that +she dare not own up? I repeat that she will meet +with no reproof. Nothing more will be said about +the matter."</p> + +<p>Still no reply. Each girl looked at her neighbour, +but not even a whisper was to be heard.</p> + +<p>"Girls, I am exceedingly pained. Such a thing +has never happened here before. For the sake of +the school, I make one last appeal to you. Will +nobody speak? Then I shall be obliged to ask +each of you in turn what she knows."</p> + +<p>It was a dreary business putting the same question +to forty-eight girls, receiving one after another +forty-eight decided negatives. Miss Bowes sighed +wearily as it came to an end, and turned to Miss +Teddington, who had sat on the platform silent +but frowning during the ordeal.</p> + +<p>"We cannot let it rest here."</p> + +<p>"Certainly not!" snapped Miss Teddington +firmly. "The matter must be sifted to the bottom."</p> + +<p>The two Principals conferred for a moment in +whispers, then Miss Bowes announced:</p> + +<p>"Girls, this affair must be very carefully inquired +into. I hoped it was only a practical joke, but a +circumstance came to my knowledge last night +which, I fear, may lend a more sinister aspect to +it than either Miss Teddington or I had imagined. +I am most deeply disappointed that the code of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[Pg 225]</a></span> +honour which we have always upheld at The +Woodlands seems by some of you to have been +broken. I shall have more to say to you later on. +In the meantime you may go to your classrooms."</p> + +<p>Very solemnly the girls turned to march in their +separate forms from the hall; but as IV <span class="smcap">b</span> filed +through the door there was a sudden outcry, a +hustling, a rush of other girls, and an excited, +aghast crowd.</p> + +<p>"It's here! It's here, Miss Bowes!" shouted +Doris Deane. "Rona Mitchell had it! It fell +from her blouse pocket when she pulled out her +handkerchief."</p> + +<p>"It's Rona!"</p> + +<p>"We saw it fall!"</p> + +<p>"She had it all the time!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, the sneak!"</p> + +<p>"Silence!" thundered Miss Bowes, ringing her +bell.</p> + +<p>In the midst of the sudden hush the Principal +walked down the hall and took the pendant from +Doris's hand.</p> + +<p>"What have you to say for yourself, Rona +Mitchell?"</p> + +<p>Rona was standing staring as if a ghost had +suddenly risen up and confronted her. Her vermilion +colour had faded, and left her face deadly +white.</p> + +<p>"Rona, do you hear me?"</p> + +<p>Rona shivered slightly, glanced desperately at +Miss Bowes, then cast her eyes on the floor. She +did not attempt to reply.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[Pg 226]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I give you one more chance, Rona."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Rona," interrupted Ulyth, who was weeping +hot tears of dismay, "remember the Camp-fire! +For the sake of the school, Rona!"</p> + +<p>She drew back, choking with emotion, as Miss +Bowes waved her aside.</p> + +<p>Rona gazed for a moment full at Ulyth—a long, +long, searching gaze, as if she would read Ulyth's +very soul in her eyes. Then the colour flooded +back, a full tide of crimson, over brow and neck.</p> + +<p>"Yes—for the sake of the school!" she repeated +unsteadily, and, bursting into tears, hid her burning +face in her hands.</p> + +<p>Miss Teddington hastily dismissed the other +girls, and, coming to the assistance of her partner, +asked many questions. It was absolutely useless, +for Rona would not answer a single word.</p> + +<p>"Go to your bedroom," said the irate Principal +at last. "This matter cannot be allowed to pass. +If you had owned up at once nothing would have +been said, but such duplicity and obstinacy are +unpardonable. Until you make a full confession you +must not mix with the rest of the school. We +should be sorry to have to send you back to New +Zealand, but girls with no sense of honour cannot +remain at The Woodlands."</p> + +<p>Still sobbing hysterically, Rona was policed upstairs +by Miss Teddington and locked into her +bedroom. An hour or two of solitude might bring +her to her senses, thought the mistress, and break +the stubborn spirit which seemed at present to +possess her. A wide experience of girls had proved<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[Pg 227]</a></span> +that solitary confinement soon quelled insubordination, +and by dinner-time the culprit would probably +volunteer some explanation.</p> + +<p>Both Principals were greatly upset by the occurrence. +Hitherto the little world at The Woodlands +had jogged on without any more desperate happenings +than the breaking of silence rules or the omission +of practising. Never in all its annals had they +been obliged to deal with a case of such serious +import.</p> + +<p>Ulyth, with the rest of V <span class="smcap">b</span>, was obliged to march +off to her form-room. The inquiry had delayed +the morning's work, and Miss Harding began to +give out books without a moment's further waste +of time. Ulyth sat staring at the problem set her, +without in the least taking in its details. She could +not apply her mind to the calculation of cubic contents +while Rona was crying her heart out upstairs. +What did it, what could it, all mean? Had her +room-mate only been intending to play a practical +joke on Stephanie? If so, why had she not at once +admitted the fact? Nobody would have thought +much the worse of her for it, as such jokes had +been rather the rage of late among the juniors. +It seemed so unlike Rona to conceal it; lack of +candour had not been her fault hitherto. She was +generally proud of the silly tricks she was fond of +playing, and anxious to boast about them. She +could not have been deterred by dread of the Principals' +displeasure. Only yesterday she had marched +into the study, to report herself for talking, with a +sangfroid that was the admiration of her form; and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[Pg 228]</a></span> +had come out again smiling, with the comment that +both the Rainbow and Teddie were "as decent as +anything if one owned up straight". No, there +must be another and a much graver explanation.</p> + +<p>A chain of circumstances flashed through Ulyth's +mind, each unfortunate link fitting only too well. +The evidence seemed almost overwhelming. Rona +had been present at the meeting by the stream +when Tootie incited the juniors to some secret act +of rebellion against the school rules. What this +act was the occurrence in the garden had plainly +shown. That Rona had been implicated seemed +a matter of certainty. Her brooch had been in the +possession of the cake-vendor, and she had chocolates +in her bedroom, the acquisition of which she +had refused to explain. Did she intend to keep the +pendant and exchange it for confectionery? Her +pocket-money, as Ulyth knew, was exhausted, and +she had hardly any of the trinkets that most girls +wear.</p> + +<p>"Ulyth Stanton, you are not attending to your +work. Give me your answer to Problem 46."</p> + +<p>Ulyth started guiltily. Her page was still a +blank, and she had no answer to produce. She +murmured a lame excuse, and Miss Harding glared +at her witheringly. Thrusting her preoccupation +resolutely aside, she made an effort to concentrate +her thoughts upon the subject in hand.</p> + +<p>The morning passed slowly on. To Ulyth each +successive class seemed interminable. At recreation, +the girls, in small clumps, discussed the one topic +of the hour.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[Pg 229]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I'm not surprised. I'd think anything of Rona +Mitchell," said Stephanie. "What else could you +expect of a girl from the backwoods?"</p> + +<p>"But she was so much improved," urged Addie, +who had rather a weakness for the Cuckoo.</p> + +<p>"Only a veneer. She relapsed directly she got +the chance, you see."</p> + +<p>"But why should she take your pendant?"</p> + +<p>"I can't pretend to explain her motive, but take +it she did—stealing, I should call it. But we're +too polite at The Woodlands to use such a strong +word."</p> + +<p>"What'll be done to her?"</p> + +<p>"Pack her back to New Zealand, I hope—and +a good riddance. I always said she wasn't a suitable +girl to come to this school. She hasn't the +traditions of a lady. You might as well try to +make a silk purse out of a sow's ear as to get such +a girl to realize the meaning of <i>noblesse oblige</i>. It's +birth that counts, after all, when it comes to the +test."</p> + +<p>"There I think you're wrong, Stephie," put in +Lizzie quietly. "Gentle birth is all very well if it +involves preserving a code of honour, but in itself +it's no hall-mark of character. Some of the humblest +and poorest people have been the stanchest +on a question of right, when those above them in +station have failed utterly. A charwoman can have +quite as high standards as a duchess, and often +lives up to them much better."</p> + +<p>"Oh, you're a Radical!"</p> + +<p>"I want fair play all round, and I must say that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[Pg 230]</a></span> +Rona has been very straight and square so far. +Nobody has ever accused her of sneaking."</p> + +<p>"No; the bear cub was unpolished, but not a +vicious little beastie," agreed Addie.</p> + +<p>"And it had grown wonderfully tame of late," +added Christine.</p> + +<p>Rona did not appear at the dinner-table; she +had been removed from her own bedroom to a +small spare room on another landing. She still +refused to answer any question put to her. Her +silence seemed unaccountable, and the Principals +could only consider it as a display of temper.</p> + +<p>"She was annoyed at being caught red-handed +with the pendant in her possession, and she won't +give in and acknowledge her wrongdoing," said +Miss Teddington to Miss Bowes.</p> + +<p>"From a strong hint Cook gave me last night +I fear there is something more behind it all," +returned her partner. "I shall question every +girl in the school separately until I get at the +truth."</p> + +<p>Beginning with the monitresses, Miss Bowes +summoned each pupil in turn to her study and +subjected her to a very strict catechism. From the +Sixth she gained no information. They formed a +clique amongst themselves, and knew little of the +doings of the younger girls. V <span class="smcap">A</span> were likewise +absorbed in their own interests, and only classed +Rona as one among many juniors. It was now +the turn of V <span class="smcap">b</span>, and Miss Bowes sent for Ulyth +a trifle more hopefully. She, at least, would have +an intimate knowledge of her room-mate.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[Pg 231]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Have you ever known Rona mixed up in any +deceit before? What is her general report among +her form-mates?" asked the Principal.</p> + +<p>"Very square. She used to annoy me dreadfully +when first she came by turning over all my +things, but she soon stopped when I told her how +horrid it was. She never dreamt of taking anything. +It was the merest curiosity; she hadn't +been taught differently at home."</p> + +<p>"Have you found her eating sweets or cakes in +her bedroom lately?"</p> + +<p>Ulyth hesitated and blushed.</p> + +<p>"Ah! I see you have! You must tell me, +Ulyth. Keep nothing back."</p> + +<p>Very unwilling to betray her friend, Ulyth admitted +the fact that chocolate had been pressed +upon her one evening.</p> + +<p>"Did Rona explain where she got it?"</p> + +<p>"No, she wouldn't tell me anything."</p> + +<p>Miss Bowes looked thoughtful.</p> + +<p>"I put you upon your honour, Ulyth, to answer +this question perfectly frankly. Have you any +reason to suspect that some of the juniors have +surreptitiously been buying cakes and sweets?"</p> + +<p>Thus asked point-blank, Ulyth was obliged to +relate what she had overheard; and Miss Bowes, +determined to get at the root of the business, +cross-questioned her closely, until she had dragged +from her reluctant pupil the account of the occurrence +in the garden and the conversation with the +travelling hawker-woman.</p> + +<p>"This is more serious even than I had feared,"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[Pg 232]</a></span> +groaned Miss Bowes. "I thought I could have +trusted my girls."</p> + +<p>"I think most of them were ashamed of it," +ventured Ulyth.</p> + +<p>"It is just possible that Rona refuses to speak +because she will not involve her schoolfellows."</p> + +<p>"Oh yes, yes!" cried Ulyth, clutching at any +straw to excuse her room-mate's conduct. "That's +quite likely. Or, Miss Bowes, I've been thinking +that perhaps it was a queer kind of loyalty to me. +You know Rona's very fond of me, and she was +quite absurdly angry because Stephanie's pendant +was to go to the exhibition and not mine. She +may have changed them, hoping it wouldn't be +noticed and that mine would be packed up, and +perhaps she intended to put Stephanie's back in +the studio when the parcel had safely gone. Rona +does such impulsive things."</p> + +<p>Miss Bowes shook her head sadly.</p> + +<p>"I wish I could think so. Unfortunately the +other circumstances lend suspicion to a graver +motive."</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em"> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[Pg 233]</a></span> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVIII" id="CHAPTER_XVIII"></a><a href="#TOC_XVIII">CHAPTER XVIII</a></h2> + +<h3>Light</h3> +</div> + +<p>Ulyth walked from the study feeling that she had +told far more than she wished.</p> + +<p>"I've given Rona away," she said to herself. +"Miss Bowes is thinking the very worst of her, I +know. Oh dear! I wish she'd explain, and not +keep up this dreadful silence. It's so unlike her. +She's generally almost too ready to talk. If I +could see her even for a few minutes I believe she +would tell me. Perhaps Miss Teddington frightened +her. Poor Rona! She must be so utterly +miserable. Could I possibly get a word with her, +I wonder?"</p> + +<p>She talked the matter over with Lizzie.</p> + +<p>"If I ask Miss Bowes, she'll probably say no," +lamented Ulyth.</p> + +<p>"Then I shouldn't ask," returned Lizzie. +"We've not been definitely forbidden to see Rona."</p> + +<p>"The door's locked."</p> + +<p>"You've only to climb out of the linen-room +window on to the roof of the veranda."</p> + +<p>"Why, so I could. Oh, I must speak to her!"</p> + +<p>"I think you are justified, if you can get anything +out of her. She'd tell you better than anybody +else in the whole school."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[Pg 234]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I'll try my luck then."</p> + +<p>"I'll stand in the garden below and shout +'Cave!' if I hear anyone coming."</p> + +<p>To help her unfortunate room-mate seemed the +first consideration to Ulyth, and she thought the +end certainly justified the means. She waited until +after the tea interval, when most of the girls would +be playing tennis or walking in the glade; then, +making sure that Lizzie was watching in the garden +below, she stole upstairs to the linen-room. It was +quite easy to drop from the window on to the top of +the veranda, and not very difficult, in spite of the +slope, to walk along to the end of the roof. Here +an angle of the old part of the house jutted out, and +the open window of Rona's prison faced her only a +couple of yards away. She could not reach across +the gap, but conversation would be perfectly possible.</p> + +<p>"Rona!" she called cautiously. "Rona!"</p> + +<p>There was a movement inside the room, and a +face appeared at the window. Rona's eyes were red +and swollen with crying, and her hair hung in wild +disorder. At the sight of Ulyth she started, and +stared rather defiantly.</p> + +<p>"Rona! Rona, dear! I've been longing to see +<a name="Ill_Frontispiece" id="Ill_Frontispiece"></a>you. <a href="#I_felt_I_must_speak_to_you"> I felt I must speak to you."</a></p> + +<p>No reply. Rona, in fact, turned her back.</p> + +<p>"I'm so dreadfully sorry," continued Ulyth. +"I've been thinking about you all day. It's no +use keeping this up. Do confess and have done +with it."</p> + +<p>Rona twisted round suddenly and faced Ulyth.</p> + +<p>"Rona! You'd be so much happier if you'd<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[Pg 235]</a></span> +own up you'd taken it. Surely you only meant it +as a joke on Stephie? Miss Bowes will forgive +you. For the sake of the school, do!"</p> + +<p>Then Rona spoke.</p> + +<p>"You ask me to confess—you, of all people!" +she exclaimed with unconcealed bitterness.</p> + +<p>"Yes, dear. I can't urge it too strongly."</p> + +<p>"You want me to tell Miss Bowes that I took +that pendant?"</p> + +<p>"There's no sense in concealing it, Rona."</p> + +<p>The Cuckoo's eyes blazed. Her hands gripped +the window-sill.</p> + +<p>"Oh, this is too much! It's the limit! I +couldn't have believed it possible! You, Ulyth! +you to ask me this! How can you? How dare +you?"</p> + +<p>Ulyth gazed at her in perplexity. She could not +understand such an outburst.</p> + +<p>"Surely I, your own chum, have the best right +to speak to you for your own good?"</p> + +<p>"My own good!" repeated Rona witheringly. +"Yours, you mean. Oh yes, it's all very fine for +you, no doubt! You're to get off scot free."</p> + +<p>"I? What are you talking about?"</p> + +<p>"Don't pretend you don't understand. You +atrocious sneak and hypocrite—you took the pendant +yourself!"</p> + +<p>If she had been accused of purloining the Crown +jewels from the Tower of London, Ulyth could not +have been more astonished.</p> + +<p>"I——!" she stammered. "I——!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, you, and you know it. I saw you."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[Pg 236]</a></span></p> + +<p>"You couldn't!"</p> + +<p>"But I did, or as good as saw you. Who came +into our room last night, I should like to know, +when Miss Lodge had sent me to bed, and slipped +something into one of the blouses hanging behind +the door? I'd forgotten by the morning, but I +remembered when the pendant came jerking out of +my pocket."</p> + +<p>"Certainly I didn't put it there!"</p> + +<p>"But you did. You came into the room, took +off your outdoor coat, and threw it on your bed. I +got up, afterwards, and hung it up in your wardrobe +for you. Irene told me how you'd joined the +cake club. She said you had the password quite +pat."</p> + +<p>Ulyth was too aghast to answer. Rona, once +she had broken silence, continued in a torrent of +indignation.</p> + +<p>"You a Torch-bearer! You might well ask me +not to expose you! 'Remember the Camp-fire,' +you said. Yes, it's because of the Camp-fire, and +for the sake of the school, that I've kept your secret. +Don't be afraid. I'm not going to tell. It wouldn't +be good for the League if a Torch-bearer toppled +down so low! It doesn't matter so much for only +a Wood-gatherer. I won't betray a chum—I've +brought that much honour from the Bush; but I'll +let you know what I think about you, at any rate."</p> + +<p>Then, her blaze of passion suddenly fading, she +burst into tears.</p> + +<p>"Ulyth, Ulyth, how could you?" she sobbed. +"You who taught me everything that was good.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[Pg 237]</a></span> +I believed in you so utterly, I'd never have thought +it of you. Oh, why——"</p> + +<p>"Cave! cave!" shouted Lizzie excitedly below. +"Cave! Teddie herself!"</p> + +<p>Ulyth turned and fled with more regard for speed +than safety along the veranda roof, and scrambled +through the window into the linen-room again. +She was trembling with agitation. Such an extraordinary +development of the situation was as appalling +as it was unexpected. She must have time to +think it over. She could not bear to speak to anybody +about it at present, not even to Lizzie. No, +she must be alone. She ran quickly downstairs, +and, before Lizzie had time to find her, dived under +the laurels of the shrubbery and made her way first +down the garden and then to the very bottom of +the paddock that adjoined the high road. There +was a little copse here, of trees and low bushes, +which sheltered her from all observation. Nobody +was likely to come and disturb her, for the girls +preferred the glade, and seldom troubled to enter +the paddock. She flung herself down on the grass +and tried to face the matter calmly. She had +begged Rona to confess, and Rona in return had +accused her of taking the pendant. This was turning +the tables with a vengeance. How could her +room-mate have become possessed of such a preposterous +idea? And in what a web of mystery +the affair seemed involved! One certainty came as +an immense relief. Rona was not guilty. More +than this, she was behaving with an extraordinary +amount of courage and loyalty.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[Pg 238]</a></span></p> + +<p>"She believes I took it, and yet she is bearing +all the blame, and shielding me for the sake of the +school," groaned Ulyth. "Oh, what must she be +thinking of me! We're all at cross-purposes. +Did she really fancy that when I said: 'Remember +the Camp-fire', I was begging her to screen me? +Somebody took the pendant and put it in her +pocket; that's the ugly part of the business. It's +throwing the blame from one to another. What +we've got to do is to find out the real guilty person, +and that's not going to be easy, I'm afraid."</p> + +<p>Ulyth sighed and wiped her eyes. She had been +deeply hurt at Rona's sudden attack. It is humiliating +to find that where you occupied a pedestal you +are now, even temporarily, a broken idol.</p> + +<p>"She's right to scorn me if she imagines I'm +such a sneak, but how could she suppose I would? +And yet I thought her guilty. Oh dear, it's a +horrible muddle! How shall we ever get it straight?"</p> + +<p>Ulyth sat thinking, thinking, and was no nearer +to a solution of her problem when she suddenly +heard the brisk ringing of a bicycle-bell on the +road below. Springing up eagerly, she rushed to +the wall, and shouted just in time to stop Mrs. +Arnold, whose machine was whisking past.</p> + +<p>"Hallo, Ulyth! What are you doing there?"</p> + +<p>"I'm coming over. Do please wait for me!"</p> + +<p>And Ulyth, scrambling somehow across the wall, +slid down a gravelly bank on to the road.</p> + +<p>"You're the one person in the world I want to +see," she added, hugging her friend impetuously. +"Oh, Mrs. Arnold, the most dreadful things<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[Pg 239]</a></span> +have been happening at school! Somebody took +Stephie's pendant, and it fell out of Rona's pocket, +and everybody thinks Rona took it, and Rona +thinks it's me. What are we to do?"</p> + +<p>"Sit down here and tell me all about it. Yes, +please, begin at the very beginning, and don't +leave anything out, however trivial. Sometimes +the little things are the most important. Cheer +up, child! We'll get to the bottom of it, never +fear."</p> + +<p>Sitting on the bank, with Mrs. Arnold's arm +round her, Ulyth related the whole of her story, +mentioning every detail she could remember. It +was such a comfort to pour it out into sympathetic +ears, and to one whose judgment was more likely +to be unbiased than that of anyone connected with +the school.</p> + +<p>"You always understand," she said, with a sigh +of relief, as she kissed the hand that was holding +hers.</p> + +<p>"It certainly is a tangled skein to unravel; but, +as it happens, I really believe I can throw a little +light upon the matter. You say Rona told you +that somebody came into her bedroom last night, +and presumably hid the pendant in her blouse +pocket?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; and she was sure that somebody was +myself."</p> + +<p>"Then what we have to do is to produce the real +culprit."</p> + +<p>"If we can find her."</p> + +<p>"Just now I was wheeling my bicycle up Tyn y<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[Pg 240]</a></span> +Bryn Hill, and I met one of the boys from Jones's +farm. He stopped me and handed me a letter. +'A girl gave it to me five minutes ago,' he said. +'She asked me if I was going to the village, and +if I'd post it for her; so I promised I would. But it's +addressed to you, so I may as well give it to you as +post it, and save the stamp.' I read the letter, and +it puzzled me extremely. I hardly knew what to +make of it; but since you've told me about the +pendant I think I begin to understand its meaning. +You shall see it for yourself."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Arnold spread out the letter on her knee, so +that Ulyth might read it. It was written on village +note-paper, in a childish hand, with no stops.</p> + +<p class="blockquot"> +"<span class="smcap">dear Mrs Arnold</span><br /> + +"this comes hoping to find you as well as +it leves me at present i am in dredful trubble and +i cannot stay here eny longer dear Mrs Arnold after +what cook said this afternoon i am sure she knows +all and i daresunt tell miss Bowes but you are the +camp fire lady and i feel i must say goodbye to ease +your mind dear Mrs Arnold wen you get this letter +I shall be Far Away as it says in the song you tort +us by the stream and you will never see me agen +but i shall think of you alwus and the camp fire +and i wish i hadn't dun it only I was skared to deth +for she said she wuld half kill me and she alwus +keeps her wurd your obedient servant Susannah +Maude Hawley."</p> + +<p>"Susannah Maude!" exclaimed Ulyth. "I never<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[Pg 241]</a></span> +even thought of her. Is it possible that she could +have taken the pendant?"</p> + +<p>"From the letter it looks rather like it. It is +very mysterious, and I cannot understand it all; +but the girl appears to have done something she +shouldn't, and to have run away."</p> + +<p>"Where has she run to?"</p> + +<p>"She can't have gone very far. She evidently +did not mean me to receive this letter until to-morrow +morning, as she asked Idwal Jones to post +it. He forestalled her intention by giving it to me +now. It's a most fortunate thing, as we may be +able to overtake her. She is probably walking to +Llangarmon, and cannot have gone more than a +few miles by this time. I shall follow her at once +on my machine, and shall most likely come up +with her before she even reaches Coed Glas."</p> + +<p>"Oh, let me go with you!" pleaded Ulyth, starting +to her feet and seizing the bicycle. "I could +ride on the carrier. I've often done it before. +Oh, please, please!"</p> + +<p>"What about school rules?"</p> + +<p>"Miss Bowes wouldn't mind if you took me. +Just this once!"</p> + +<p>"Well, I suppose my shoulders are broad +enough to bear the blame if we get into trouble +about it."</p> + +<p>"Oh, we shan't! We must find Susannah +Maude. Miss Bowes would want us to stop her +running away."</p> + +<p>"Come along then, and mind you balance yourself, +so that you don't upset us."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[Pg 242]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Trust me!" chuckled Ulyth delightedly.</p> + +<p>Back along the road by which she had come +sped Mrs. Arnold, past the lane that led to her +own house, and away in the direction of Llangarmon. +Ulyth managed to stick on without impeding +her progress, and felt a delirious joy in the +stolen expedition. To be out with her dear Mrs. +Arnold on such an exciting adventure was an hour +worth remembering. She could not often get the +Guardian of the Fire all to herself in this glorious +fashion. She would be the envy of the school +when she returned. Susannah Maude was apparently +a quick walker. They passed through the +hamlet of Coed Glas, and were half a mile beyond +before they caught sight of the odd little figure +trudging on ahead. They overtook her exactly on +the bridge that crossed the Llyn Mawr stream.</p> + +<p>As Mrs. Arnold dismounted and called her by +name, Susannah Maude started, uttered a shriek, +and apparently for a moment contemplated casting +herself into the stream below. The Guardian of +the Fire, however, seized her firmly by the arm, +and, drawing her to the low parapet, made her sit +down.</p> + +<p>"Now tell me all about it," said Mrs. Arnold +encouragingly, seating herself by her side. For +answer Susannah Maude wept unrestrainedly, the +hot tears dripping down her hard little cheeks into +her rough little hands.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Arnold waited with patience till the storm +had subsided, then she began to put questions.</p> + +<p>"Did you take the young lady's locket, Susan?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[Pg 243]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Yes, I did; but I didn't want to. I wouldn't if +I hadn't been so scared. I'm scared to death now +as she'll find me."</p> + +<p>"You needn't be afraid of Miss Bowes."</p> + +<p>"I ain't. Leastways not so bad. It's her I'm +feared of."</p> + +<p>"Whom do you mean, child?"</p> + +<p>"Her—my mother."</p> + +<p>"I didn't know you had a mother. I thought +you were an orphan," burst out Ulyth.</p> + +<p>"I wish I was. No, my father and mother +wasn't dead—they was both serving time when I +was sent to the Home. When Mother come out +she got to know where I was, and she kept an eye +on me; then when I comes here to a situation she +turns up one day at the back door and says she +wants my wages. I give her all I got; but that +didn't satisfy her—not much! She was always +hanging about the place. She used to come and +sell sweets and cakes, unbeknown-like, to the +young ladies."</p> + +<p>"Was that your mother? The gipsy woman +with the basket?" exclaimed Ulyth.</p> + +<p>"That was her, sure enough. She pestered me +all the time for money, and then when she found +I'd got none left she said I must bring her something +instead. 'The young ladies must have heaps +of brooches and lockets, and things they don't want, +so just you fetch me one,' sez she; 'and if you don't +I'll catch you and half kill you.' Oh, I can tell +you I was scared to death! I don't want not to be +honest; but she'd half killed me once or twice before,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[Pg 244]</a></span> +when I was a kid, and I know what her hand's like +when she uses it."</p> + +<p>"So you took something?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. I waited till the young ladies was all at +supper; then I got down one of their coats from the +pegs in the corridor and slipped it over my black +dress and apron, and I put on one of their hats. +I thought if I was seen upstairs they'd take me +for one of themselves. I went into the studio, and +there, right opposite on a little table, was that kind +of locket thing. I slipped it in my pocket, and +looked round the room. If there wasn't another +just like it on the bench! I took that, and put it on +the table. It wasn't likely, perhaps, it would be +missed as quick as the other. Then I thought I'd +better be going. I was just walking down the +landing when I hears a step, and darts into one +of the bedrooms. 'Suppose they catches me,' +thinks I, 'with one of the young ladies' coats and +hats on and the locket in my hand!' There was a +blouse hanging behind the door, with a little pocket +just handy, so I stuffed the locket down into that; +then I pulled off the coat and threw it on the bed, +and flung the hat out of the window. I thought if +anyone came in and found me I'd say I'd been sent +to refill the water-jug. But the steps went on, and +I rushed out and downstairs, and left the locket +where it was. I was so scared I didn't know what +I was doing."</p> + +<p>"Gracie found her hat in the garden this morning," +gasped Ulyth. "She wondered how it got +there."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[Pg 245]</a></span></p> + +<p>"But what made you run away?" asked Mrs. +Arnold, returning to the main question. "Did +you think you were suspected?"</p> + +<p>"Not till this afternoon. Then the servants were +all talking in the kitchen about how one of the young +ladies was supposed to have taken what they called +a 'pendon' or something, and Cook looked straight +at me and says: 'If anything's missing, it's not +one of the young ladies that's got it, I'll be bound.' +And I turned red and run out of the kitchen. My +mother'd said she'd be coming round this evening, +and how was I going to meet her with no locket? +So I says, there's nothing else for it, I'd best go +back to the Home. Miss Bankes, she was good to +me, and Mother daresn't show her face there. So +I wrote a letter, and asked Jones's boy to post it. +I didn't think you'd get it till to-morrow."</p> + +<p>"Very fortunately I received it at once. You +must come back with us now to The Woodlands, +Susan. We shall all have to walk, for the bicycle +won't take three."</p> + +<p>"I'll wheel it," cried Ulyth joyfully.</p> + +<p>"She'll half kill me to-night," quavered poor +Susannah Maude. "Do let me go to the +Home!"</p> + +<p>"Your mother shall not have a chance of coming +near you. You must tell all this to Miss Bowes; +then to-morrow, if you wish, you may be sent back +to the Orphanage."</p> + +<p>No successful scouts could have returned to camp +with more triumph than Mrs. Arnold and Ulyth, as, +very late and decidedly tired, they arrived at The<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[Pg 246]</a></span> +Woodlands to relate their surprising story. Miss +Bowes sent at once for Rona, and in the presence +of the Principals the whole matter was carefully +explained to the satisfaction of all parties, even +poor weeping Susannah Maude.</p> + +<p>"I am very glad to find the motive for which +Rona kept silence was so good a one," commented +Miss Teddington. "She has shown her loyalty +both to her friend and to the school."</p> + +<p>Dismissed with honour from the study, Ulyth +and Rona were hugging each other in the privacy +of the boot cupboard.</p> + +<p>"Can you ever forgive all the horrible things +I said?" implored Rona. "I think I was off my +head. I might have known it wasn't—couldn't be +possible; you are you—the one girl I've been trying +to copy ever since I came here."</p> + +<p>"You've quite as much to forgive me, dear, and +I beg your pardon. I'm so glad it's all straight +and square now."</p> + +<p>"You darling! I don't mind telling you it was +Tootie who gave me those chocolates."</p> + +<p>"Didn't you buy them from the cake-woman?"</p> + +<p>"I never bought anything from her. I didn't +join the cake club."</p> + +<p>"Then how did she get hold of your New Zealand +brooch? She showed it to me."</p> + +<p>"Why, I'd swopped that brooch with Tootie for +a penknife ages ago. We're always swopping our +things in IV <span class="smcap">b</span>."</p> + +<p>"The whole business seems to have been a +comedy of errors," said Ulyth. "Some mis<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[Pg 247]</a></span>chievous +Puck threw dust in our eyes and blinded +us to the truth."</p> + +<p>After all, it was the juniors that suffered most, +for Miss Teddington, who had been very angry +at the whole affair, turned the vials of her wrath +upon them, and took them to task for their illicit +traffic in cakes. This, at any rate, she was determined +to punish, and not a solitary sinner was +allowed to escape. Tootie, the original leader in +rebellion, issued from her interview in the study +such a crushed worm as to stifle any lingering +seeds of mutiny among her crestfallen followers.</p> + +<p>"What's to become of Susannah Maude?" asked +everybody; and Miss Bowes answered the question.</p> + +<p>"I am taking the poor child back to the Orphanage. +I have told the police to warn her disreputable +mother from this neighbourhood; but, as one +can never be certain when she might turn up again, +we must remove Susan altogether out of reach of +her evil influence. A party of girls will be sent +from the Home very soon to Canada, and we shall +arrange for her to join them and emigrate to a new +country, where she will be placed in a good situation +on a farm and well looked after. She is not +really a dishonest girl, and has a very grateful and +affectionate disposition. I am confident that she +will do us credit in the New World, and turn out +a useful and happy citizen. Why yes, girls, if +you like to make her a little good-bye present before +she sails, you may do so. It is a kind thought, +and I am sure she will appreciate it greatly."</p> + +<p>"There's only one item not yet wiped out on the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[Pg 248]</a></span> +slate," said Ulyth to Lizzie. "Perhaps I ought to +report myself for walking along the veranda roof. +I'd feel more comfortable!"</p> + +<p>"Go ahead, then! Teddie's at the confessional +now."</p> + +<p>"It's never been exactly forbidden," said Ulyth, +with a twinkle in her eye, after she had stated the +extent of her enormity to Miss Teddington.</p> + +<p>"I would as soon have thought of forbidding +you to climb the chimneys! It was a dangerous +experiment, and certainly must not be repeated. +I'm surprised at a senior! No, as you have told +me yourself, I will not enter it in your conduct-book. +Please don't parade the roofs in future. +Now you may go."</p> + +<p>"Got off even easier than I expected," rejoiced +Ulyth to the waiting Lizzie. "Teddie's bark's +always worse than her bite."</p> + +<p>"We've found that out long ago," agreed Lizzie.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em"> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[Pg 249]</a></span> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIX" id="CHAPTER_XIX"></a><a href="#TOC_XIX">CHAPTER XIX</a></h2> + +<h3>A Surprise</h3> +</div> + +<p>The storm-clouds that had gathered round the +mystery of the lost pendant seemed to clear the air, +and sunshine once more reigned at The Woodlands. +The juniors were on their very best behaviour; +they indulged in no more surreptitious expeditions +and abandoned their truculent attitude towards +the elder girls, who, while careful to preserve their +dignity as seniors, were ready to wipe off old scores +and start afresh. Some manœuvres in connection +with the Camp-fire League proved a bond of union, +for here there was no distinction between Upper +and Lower School, since all were novices to the +new work and had to learn alike. None, indeed, +had any time at present to get into mischief. As +the end of the term, with its prospects of examinations, +drew near, even the most hardened shirkers +were obliged to put their shoulders to the wheel, +and show a certain amount of intimacy with their +textbooks. A nodding acquaintance with French +verbs or the rules of Latin Grammar might suffice +to shuffle through the ordinary lessons in form, but +would be a poor crutch when confronted with a pile +of foolscap paper and a set of questions, and likely +to lead to disparaging items in their reports.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[Pg 250]</a></span></p> + +<p>In every department, therefore, there was a flood-tide +of effort. Nature-study diaries, roughly kept, +were neatly copied; lists of birds and flowers were +revised; the geological specimens in the museum +were rearranged and labelled, the art treasures in +the studio touched up, while pianos seemed sounding +from morning to night. The school was on its +mettle to appear at high-water mark. Miss Bowes +had lately instituted an Old Girls' Union for The +Woodlands, the first gathering of which was to be +held in conjunction with the breaking-up festivity. +Quite a number of past pupils had accepted the invitation, +and people of influence in the neighbourhood +were also expected to be present.</p> + +<p>"You must show the 'old girls' what you can +do," said Miss Bowes, who was naturally anxious +to make a good impression on the visitors. "I +want them to think the standard raised, not lowered. +Some of our ways will be new to them, and +we must prove that the changes have been for the +better."</p> + +<p>It certainly seemed a goal to work for. Even +the most irresponsible junior would feel humiliated +if the "old girls" were to consider that the school +had gone down, and all took a just pride in keeping +up its reputation.</p> + +<p>"Noëlle Derrington and Phyllis Courtenay have +accepted"—it was Stephanie who volunteered the +information. "They have both been presented. +And Irene Vernon has promised to come. She's +been out two years now. I do hope those wretched +kids in IV <span class="smcap">b</span> will behave themselves. Manners<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[Pg 251]</a></span> +have gone off at The Woodlands in my opinion, +even if the work's better. When my sister was +a junior, she says, they would as soon have thought +of ragging the mistresses as of cheeking the +seniors."</p> + +<p>"O tempora! O mores!" laughed Addie. +"When you're an old lady, Stephie, you'll spend +all your time lamenting the good old days of your +youth, and telling the children just how much +better-behaved girls used to be when you were at +school."</p> + +<p>"I shan't say so of our juniors, at any rate," +snorted Stephanie.</p> + +<p>"Have you heard yet who's coming from the +neighbourhood?" Beth enquired.</p> + +<p>"Mr. and Mrs. Arnold, of course, and Colonel +and Mrs. Hepworth, and the Mowbrays, and the +Langtons."</p> + +<p>"Lord and Lady Glyncraig have accepted; Miss +Harding told me so just now," remarked Christine.</p> + +<p>"Oh, what luck!" Stephanie's eyes sparkled. +"It will just give the finishing touch to the +affair."</p> + +<p>"Did you say that Lord and Lady Glyncraig +are coming to our breaking-up party?" asked Rona +quickly. She had joined the group in company +with Winnie and Hattie.</p> + +<p>"So I understand; but you needn't excite yourself. +It isn't likely they'll notice juniors, though +they'll probably speak to a few seniors whom they +already know."</p> + +<p>"Including Miss Stephanie Radford, of course,"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[Pg 252]</a></span> +scoffed Winnie. "We shall expect to see you +walking arm in arm with them round the grounds."</p> + +<p>"And hear them giving you a most pressing +invitation to Plas Cafn," Hattie added. "You +don't get asked there as often as one would suppose, +considering you're so intimate with them."</p> + +<p>"The cheek of juniors grows beyond all bounds!" +declared Stephanie, stalking away. "I'm afraid I +know what Irene Vernon will think of the school."</p> + +<p>It was of course impossible for all the parents of +the girls to come to the "At Home", but a certain +proportion had promised to be present. There was +a good hotel at Llangarmon, and they could put +up there, and drive over for the occasion. The +neighbourhood was so beautiful that several would +take the opportunity of spending a few days in +sightseeing.</p> + +<p>"I've news to tell you," said Ulyth to Rona one +morning, her face radiant as she showed a letter. +"Who do you think are coming to the party? +Motherkins and Oswald! Ossie'll just be home in +time, so they're jaunting off to Elwyn Bay like +a pair of honeymooners. Motherkins hasn't been +very well, and Dad says the sea air will do her +good—he can't leave business himself, more's the +pity! Won't it be glorious to see them here! I +could stand on my head, I'm so glad."</p> + +<p>The prospect of meeting any members of the +Stanton family again was a great pleasure to Rona, +who treasured the memory of the Christmas holidays +as her happiest experience in England. Mrs. +Fowler was also to be present, so she would see<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[Pg 253]</a></span> +the friend who had been kind to her at Eastertide +as well.</p> + +<p>"I'm glad my mother's coming," said Winnie. +"When most of the other girls have somebody, its +so horrid to be left out. Poor old Rona! I wish +you'd got some relations of your own who could be +here. It's hard luck!"</p> + +<p>A shade crossed Rona's face. She hesitated, as +if about to speak, then, apparently changing her +mind, kept silence.</p> + +<p>"What an idiotic duffer you are!" whispered +Hattie to Winnie. "You needn't be always reminding +her what a cuckoo she is."</p> + +<p>"The Cuckoo's got its feathers now, and has +grown a very handsome bird," said Winnie, watching +Rona as the latter walked away.</p> + +<p>The At Home was to be chiefly a gathering for +the Old Girls' Union, but the present pupils were +to provide a short programme, consisting of music +and recitations, to occupy a portion of the afternoon. +Only the brightest stars were selected to +perform.</p> + +<p>"The school's got to show off!" laughed Gertie. +"It's to try and take the shine out of the old girls. +Miss Bowes doesn't exactly like to say so, but +that's what she means."</p> + +<p>"No inferior talent permitted," agreed Addie. +"Only freshwater oysters may wag their tails."</p> + +<p>"Metaphor's a little mixed, my hearty. Perhaps +you'll show us an oyster's tail?"</p> + +<p>"Well, they've got beards, at any rate."</p> + +<p>"To beard the lion with?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[Pg 254]</a></span></p> + +<p>"If you like. I suppose Lord Glyncraig will be +the lion of the afternoon. We shall have to perform +before him."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I'm so thankful I'm not clever enough to +be on the programme!"</p> + +<p>After careful consideration of her pupils' best +points, Miss Ledbury, the music-mistress, had at +last compiled her list. She put Rona down for +a song. Rona's voice had developed immensely +since she came to school. For a girl of her age +it had a wonderfully rich tone and wide compass. +Miss Ledbury thought it showed promise of great +things later on, and, while avoiding overstraining +it, she had made Rona practise most assiduously. +There was rather a dearth of good solo voices in +the school at present, most of the seniors having +more talent for the piano than for singing, otherwise +a junior might not have obtained a place on +the coveted programme.</p> + +<p>"But of course Rona's not exactly a junior," +urged Ulyth in reply to several jealous comments. +"She's fifteen now, although she's only in IV B, +and she's old for her age. She's miles above the +kids in her form. I think Teddie realizes that. I +shouldn't be at all surprised if Rona skips a form +and is put into the Upper School next term. She'd +manage the work, I believe. It's been rather +rough on her to stay among those babes."</p> + +<p>"Well, I say Miss Ledbury might have chosen +a soloist from V <span class="smcap">b</span>," returned Beth icily. She was +not a Rona enthusiast.</p> + +<p>"Who? Stephie's playing the piano and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[Pg 255]</a></span> +Gertie's reciting, Merle croaks like a raven, you +and Chris don't learn singing, Addie's no ear for +tune, and the rest of us, as Leddie says, 'have no +puff'. I'm glad Rona can do something well for +the school. She's been here three terms, and she's +as much a Woodlander now as anyone else."</p> + +<p>Rona herself seemed to regard her honour with +dismay. The easy confidence which she had +brought from New Zealand had quite disappeared, +thanks to incessant snubbing; she was apt now to +veer to the side of diffidence.</p> + +<p>"Do you think I'll break down?" she asked +Ulyth nervously.</p> + +<p>"Not a bit of it. Why should you? You know +the song and you know you can sing it. Just let +yourself go, and don't think of the audience."</p> + +<p>"Very good advice, no doubt, but a trifle difficult +to follow," pouted Rona. "Don't think of the +audience, indeed, when they'll all be sitting staring +at me. Am I to shut my eyes?"</p> + +<p>"You can look at your song, at any rate, and +fancy you're alone with Miss Ledbury."</p> + +<p>"Imagination's not my strong point. I wish the +wretched performance was over and done with."</p> + +<p>There were great preparations on the morning of +29th July. Outside, the gardeners were giving a +last roll to the lawns, and a last sweep to the paths. +In the kitchen the cook was setting out rows of +small cakes, and the parlour-maid in the pantry was +counting cups and spoons, and polishing the best +silver urn. In the school department finishing +touches were put everywhere. Great bowls of roses<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[Pg 256]</a></span> +were placed in the drawing-room, and jars of tall +lilies in the hall. The studio, arranged yesterday +with its exhibits of arts and handicrafts, was further +decorated with picturesque boughs of larch and +spikes of foxgloves. Two curators were told off to +explain the museum to visitors, and tea-stewards +selected to help to hand round cups and cakes. A +band of special scouts picked raspberries and arranged +them on little green plates. Chairs were +placed in the summer-house and under the trees in +view of the lawn. The rustic seats were carefully +dusted in the glade by the stream.</p> + +<p>By three o'clock the school was in a flutter of +expectation.</p> + +<p>"Do I look—decent?" asked Rona anxiously, +taking a last nervous peep at her toilet in the wardrobe +mirror.</p> + +<p>"Decent!" exclaimed Ulyth. "You're for all +the world like a Sir Joshua Reynolds portrait. I'd +like to frame you, just as you are, and hang you on +the wall."</p> + +<p>"You wouldn't feel ashamed of me if—if you +happened to be my relation? I've improved a little +since I came here, haven't I? I was a wild sort of +goose-girl when I arrived, I know."</p> + +<p>"The goose-girl is a Princess to-day," said her +room-mate exultantly.</p> + +<p>Ulyth thought Rona had never looked so sweet. +The pretty white dress trimmed with pale blue +edgings suited her exactly, and set off her lovely +colouring and rich ruddy-brown hair. Her eyes +shone like diamonds, and the mingled excitement<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[Pg 257]</a></span> +and shyness in her face gave a peculiar charm to +her expression.</p> + +<p>"She's far and away the prettiest girl in the +school," reflected Ulyth. "If there were a beauty +prize, she'd win it."</p> + +<p>Everybody was waiting in the garden when the +guests arrived. The scene soon became gay and +animated. There were delighted welcomings of +parents, enthusiastic meetings between old school +chums, and a hearty greeting to all visitors. Mrs. +Stanton and Oswald had driven in a taxi from +Elwyn Bay, and were received with rapture by +Ulyth.</p> + +<p>"Motherkins! Oh, how lovely to see you again! +I must have you all to myself for just a minute or +two before I share you with anybody—even Rona!"</p> + +<p>"Is that Rona over there?" asked Oswald, gazing +half amazed at the friend who seemed to have added +a new dignity to her manner as well as inches to +her stature since Christmas-tide.</p> + +<p>"Yes, go and fetch her to speak to Motherkins."</p> + +<p>"I hardly like to. She looks so stately and +grown-up now."</p> + +<p>"What nonsense! Ossie, you can't be shy all +of a sudden. What's come over you, you silly +boy? There, I'll beckon to Rona. Ah, she sees +us, and she's coming! No, I'm afraid she can't sit +next to us at the concert, because she's one of the +performers, and will have to be in the front row."</p> + +<p>The ceremonies were to take place in the hall, +after which tea would be served to the company +out-of-doors.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[Pg 258]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Lord Glyncraig is to act as chairman," whispered +Addie. "Stephie is so fearfully excited. +She means to go and speak to him and Lady Glyncraig +afterwards. I hope to goodness they won't +have forgotten her. She'd be so woefully humiliated. +She wants us all to see that she knows them. She's +been just living for this afternoon, I believe."</p> + +<p>Rona, her hands tightly clasped, watched the +tall figure mount the platform. Lord Glyncraig, +with his clear-cut features, iron-grey hair, and commanding +air, looked a born leader of men, and well +fitted to take his share in swaying a nation's destiny. +She could picture him a power in Parliament. It +was good of him to come this afternoon to speak at +a girls' school. Lady Glyncraig, handsome, well-dressed, +and aristocratic, sat in the post of honour +next to Miss Bowes. Rona noticed her gracious +reception of the beautiful bouquet handed to her by +Catherine, and sighed as she looked.</p> + +<p>There were no prizes at The Woodlands this +year, for the girls had asked to devote the money +to the Orphanage; but the examination lists and +the annual report were read, and some pleasant +comments made upon the scope of the Old Girls' +Union. Lord Glyncraig had a happy gift of +speech, and could adapt his remarks to the occasion. +Everybody felt that he had said exactly the right +things, and Principals, mistresses, parents, and +pupils past or present were wreathed in smiles. +These opening ceremonies did not take very long, +and the concert followed immediately.</p> + +<p>Marjorie's Prelude, Evie's Nocturne, Stephanie's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[Pg 259]</a></span> +Mazurka, and Gertie's recitation all went off without +a hitch, and received their due reward of appreciation. +It was now Rona's turn. For a +moment she grew pale as she mounted the platform, +then the coral flushed back into her cheeks. +She had no time to think of the audience. Miss +Ledbury was already playing the opening bars:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Come out, come out, my dearest dear!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Come out and greet the sun!"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Mellow and tuneful as a blackbird's, Rona's +clear rich young voice rang out, so fresh, so joyous, +so natural, so full of the very spirit of maying +and the glory of summer's return, that the visitors +listened as one hearkens to the notes of a bird that +is pouring forth its heart from a tree-top in the +orchard. There was no mistake about the applause. +Guests and girls clapped their hardest. Rona, all +unwilling, was recalled, and made to sing an encore, +and as she left the platform everybody felt +that she had scored the triumph of the occasion.</p> + +<p>"Glad the juniors weren't excluded. It's a +knock-down for Steph," whispered Addie.</p> + +<p>"Trust Miss Ledbury not to leave out Rona. +She'll be our champion soloist now," returned +Christine.</p> + +<p>The rest of the little programme was soon finished, +and the audience adjourned to the garden for tea. +Stephanie, with a tray of raspberries and cream, +came smilingly up to Lord and Lady Glyncraig, +and, introducing herself, reminded them of the +delightful visit she had paid to Plas Cafn. If they<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[Pg 260]</a></span> +had really forgotten her, they had the good manners +not to reveal the fact, and spoke to her kindly and +pleasantly.</p> + +<p>"By the by," said Lord Glyncraig, "where is +your schoolfellow who sang so well just now? I +don't see her on the lawn."</p> + +<p>"Rona Mitchell? I suppose she is somewhere +about," replied Stephanie casually.</p> + +<p>"Do you happen to know if she comes from New +Zealand?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, she does."</p> + +<p>"I wonder if you could find her and bring her +here? I should like very much to speak to her."</p> + +<p>Stephanie could not refuse, though her errand +was uncongenial. She could not imagine why an +ex-Cabinet Minister should concern himself with a +girl from the backwoods.</p> + +<p>"Lord Glyncraig wants you; so hurry up, and +don't keep him waiting," was the message she +delivered, not too politely.</p> + +<p>Rona blushed furiously. She appeared on the +very point of declining to obey the summons.</p> + +<p>"Go, dear," said Mrs. Stanton quietly. "Perhaps +he wishes to congratulate you on the success +of your song. Yes, Rona, go. It would be most +ungracious to refuse."</p> + +<p>With a face in which shyness, nervousness, +pride, and defiance strove for the mastery, Rona +approached Lord Glyncraig. He held out his +hand to her.</p> + +<p>"Won't you bury the hatchet, and let us be +friends at last, Rona?" he said. "I'm proud of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[Pg 261]</a></span> +my granddaughter to-day. You're a true chip of +the old block, a Mitchell to your finger-tips—and" +(in a lower tone) "with your mother's voice thrown +into the bargain. Blood is thicker than water, +child, and it's time now for bygones to become +bygones. I shall write to your father to-night, and +set things straight."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>"How is it that you've actually been a whole +year at The Woodlands and never let anybody +have the least hint that Lord Glyncraig is your +grandfather? Don't you know what an enormous +difference it would have made to your position in +the school? Stephie is quite hysterical about it. +Why was it such a dead secret?" asked Ulyth of +her room-mate, as they took off their party dresses, +when the guests had gone.</p> + +<p>"It's rather a long story," replied Rona, sitting +down on her bed. "In the first place, I dare say +you've guessed that Dad was the prodigal of the +family. He never did anything very bad, poor +dear, but he was packed off to the colonies in disgrace, +and told that he might stay there. At +Melbourne he met a lovely opera singer, who was +on tour in Australia, and married her. That made +my grandfather more angry than anything else he +had done. I'm not ashamed of my mother. She +was very clever, and sang like an angel, I'm told, +though I can't remember her. When she died, +Dad went to New Zealand and started farming. +Mrs. Barker was hardly an ideal person to bring +me up, but she was the only woman we could get to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[Pg 262]</a></span> +stop in such an out-of-the-way place. I must have +been an awful specimen of a child; I don't like to +remember what things I did then. When I was +about ten, Father went away for a few weeks to the +North Island, and while he was gone, Mrs. Barker +went off in the gig to have a day's shopping at the +nearest store. She left me alone in the house. I +wasn't frightened, for I was quite accustomed to it. +No one but a chance neighbour ever came near. +Yet that day was just the exception that proves the +rule. Early in the afternoon a grand travelling +motor drove up, and a lady and gentleman knocked +at the door, and enquired for Dad. I was a little +wild rough thing then, and I was simply scared to +death at the sight of strangers. I told them Dad +was away. Then they asked if they might come +in, and the gentleman said he was my grandfather, +and the lady was his new wife, so that she was my +step-grandmother. Now Mrs. Barker had always +rubbed it in to me that if I was left alone I must on +no account admit strangers. That was the only +thing I could think of. I was in a panic, and I +slammed the door on them and bolted it, and then +ran to the window and pulled faces, hoping to make +them go away. They stood for a minute or two +quite aghast, trying to get me to listen to reason +through the window, but I only grew more and +more frightened, and called them all the ugly +names I could.</p> + +<p>"'It's no use attempting to tame such a young +savage,' said the lady at last. Then they got into +their car again and drove away.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[Pg 263]</a></span></p> + +<p>"By the time Mrs. Barker arrived I was ashamed +of myself, so I said nothing about my adventure, +and I never dared to tell Dad a word of it. I +suppose his father had come to hunt him up; but +he was evidently discouraged at the reception he +had received at the farm, and went back to England +without making another attempt at a meeting. +I don't believe he and Dad ever wrote to each +other from year's end to year's end. I tried to +forget this, but it stuck in my memory all the same. +Time went by, my friendship with you began, and +it was decided that I should be sent to The Woodlands. +I knew my grandfather lived at Plas Cafn, +for Dad had told me about his old home, but I did +not know it was so near to the school. You ask +why I did not tell the girls that I was related to +Lord Glyncraig? There were several reasons. In +the first place, I was really very much ashamed of +my behaviour the day he had come to our farm. I +thought he had cast us off completely, and would +not be at all pleased to own me as granddaughter. +I would not confess it to any of you, but I felt +so rough and uncouth when I compared myself +with other girls that I did not want Lord Glyncraig +to see me, or to know that I was in the neighbourhood. +Perhaps some day, so I thought, I might +grow more like you, if I tried hard, and then it +would be time enough to tell him of my whereabouts. +Then, because he had disowned us, I felt +much too proud to boast about the relationship at +school. If you could not like me for myself, I +wouldn't make a bid for popularity on the cheap<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[Pg 264]</a></span> +basis of being his granddaughter. I'm a democrat +at heart, and I think people ought to be valued on +their own merits entirely. I'd rather be an outsider +than shine with a reflected glory."</p> + +<p>"You'll be popular now," said Ulyth. "Are +you to spend the holidays at Plas Cafn?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. Miss Bowes says I must, though I'd far +rather have accepted your invitation. Lady Glyncraig +was very kind and sweet; she kissed me and +said she hoped so much that we should be friends. +They have promised to ask Dad to come over for +next Christmas and have a big family reunion."</p> + +<p>"You won't let them take you away from The +Woodlands? We don't want to lose you, dear. +You must stay here now—for the sake of the +school."</p> + +<p>"For my own sake!" cried Rona, flinging her +arms round her friend. "Ulyth, I owe everything +in the world to you. I understand now how good +it was of you to take me into your room and teach +me. I was a veritable cuckoo in your nest then, a +horrid, tiresome, trespassing bird, a savage, a bear +cub, a 'backwoods gawk' as the girls called me. +It's entirely thanks to you if at last I'm——"</p> + +<p>"The sweetest Prairie Rose that ever came out +of the wilderness!" finished Ulyth warmly.</p> + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<hr class="full" /> +<p>***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FOR THE SAKE OF THE SCHOOL***</p> +<p>******* This file should be named 20730-h.txt or 20730-h.zip *******</p> +<p>This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:<br /> +<a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/0/7/3/20730">http://www.gutenberg.org/2/0/7/3/20730</a></p> +<p>Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed.</p> + +<p>Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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