A Patriotic Schoolgirl

by Angela Brazil

  CHAPTER VI

  Trouble

  Marjorie and her fellow autograph collectors from St. Elgiva's enteredthe sitting-room in a state of much exhilaration, to boast of theirachievement.

  "You didn't!" exclaimed Betty Moore. "You mean to say you ran up andasked him under Frankie's very nose? Marjorie, you are the limit!"

  "He was as nice as anything about it. I think he's a perfect dear. Hedidn't seem to mind at all, rather liked it, in fact! Here's his neatlittle signature. Do you want to look?"

  "Well, you have luck, though you needn't cock-a-doodle so dreadfullyover it. How did Frankie take it?"

  "Oh, she was rather ratty, of course; but who cares? We've got ourautographs, and that's the main thing. One has to risk something."

  "We'll get something, too, in my opinion," said Patricia Lennox, one ofthe sinners. "Frankie was worse than ratty, she was absolutely savage. Icould see it in her eye."

  "Well, we can't help it if we do receive a few order marks. It was wellworth it, in my opinion," chuckled Marjorie shamelessly.

  She bluffed things off before the other girls, but secretly she feltrather uneasy. Miss Franklin's threat to report the matter to Mrs.Morrison recurred to her memory. At Brackenfield to carry any questionto the Principal was an extreme measure. The Empress liked her teachersto be able to manage their girls on their own authority, and, knowingthis, they generally conducted their struggles without appeal tohead-quarters. Any very flagrant breach of discipline, however, wasexpected to be reported, so that the case could be dealt with as itdeserved.

  Marjorie went into the dining-hall for tea with a thrill akin to thatwhich she usually suffered when visiting the dentist. To judge fromtheir heightened colour and conspicuously callous manner, Rose Butler,Patricia Lennox, Phyllis Bingham, Laura Norris, Gertrude Holmes, andEvelyn Pickard were experiencing the same sensations. They fullyexpected to receive three order marks apiece, which would mean bedimmediately after supper, instead of going to the needlework union. Totheir surprise Miss Franklin took no notice of them. She was sittingamongst the Juniors, and did not even look in their direction. They tookcare not to do anything which should attract attention to themselves,and the meal passed over in safety. Preparation followed immediately.Marjorie found the image of the aviator and Miss Franklin's outragedexpression kept obtruding themselves through her studies, causing sadconfusion amongst French irregular verbs, and driving the principalbattles of the Civil Wars into the sidewalks of her memory. She made avaliant effort to pull herself together, and, looking up, caught RoseButler's eye. Rose held up for a moment a piece of paper, upon which shehad executed a fancy sketch of Captain Devereux and his aeroplanesurrounded by schoolgirls, and Miss Franklin in the background raisinghands of horror. It was too much for Marjorie's sense of humour, and shechuckled audibly. Miss Norton promptly glared in her direction, and gaveher an order mark, which sobered her considerably.

  When preparation was over the girls changed their dresses and came downfor supper, and again Miss Franklin took no notice of the sinners of theafternoon. They began to breathe more freely.

  "Perhaps she's going to overlook it," whispered Rose.

  "After all, I can't see that we did anything so very wrong," maintainedPhyllis.

  "Frankie's jealous because she didn't get an autograph for herself,"chuckled Laura.

  "I don't believe we shall hear another word about it," asserted Evelyn.

  The interval between supper and prayers was spent by the girls in theirown hostels. At present each house was busy with a needlework union.They were making articles for a small bazaar, that was to be held at theschool in the spring in aid of the Red Cross Society. They sat and sewedwhile a mistress read a book aloud to them. Marjorie was embroidering anightdress case in ribbon-work. She used a frame, and enjoyed pullingher ribbons through into semblance of little pink roses and blueforget-me-nots. In contrast with French verbs and the Civil Wars theoccupation was soothing. Ever afterwards it was associated in her mindwith the story of _Cranford_, which was being read aloud, and the verysight of ribbon-work would recall Miss Matty or the other quaintinhabitants of the old-world village.

  At ten minutes to nine a bell rang, sewing-baskets were put away, andthe girls trooped into the big hall for prayers.

  If by that time any remembrance of her afternoon's misdeeds enteredMarjorie's mind, it was to congratulate herself that the trouble hadblown over successfully. She was certainly not prepared for what was tohappen.

  Mrs. Morrison mounted the platform as usual, and read prayers, and thecustomary hymn followed. At its close, instead of dismissing the girlsto their hostels, the Principal made a signal for them to resume theirseats.

  "I have something to say to you this evening," she began gravely."Something which I feel demands the presence of the whole school. It iswith the very greatest regret I bring this matter before you.Brackenfield, as you are aware, will soon celebrate its tenth birthday.During all these years of its existence it has always prided itself uponthe extremely high reputation in respect of manners and conduct whichits pupils have maintained in the neighbourhood. So far, atWhitecliffe, the name of a Brackenfield girl has been synonymous withperfectly and absolutely ladylike behaviour. There are other schools inthe town, and it is possible that there may be among them some spirit ofrivalry towards Brackenfield. The inhabitants or visitors at Whitecliffewill naturally notice any party of girls who are proceeding in linethrough the town, they will note their school hats, observe theirconduct, and judge accordingly the establishment from which they come.Every girl when on parade has the reputation of Brackenfield in herkeeping. So strong has been the spirit not only of loyalty to theschool, but of innate good breeding, that up to this day our traditionshave never yet been broken. I say sorrowfully up till to-day, for thisvery afternoon an event has occurred which, in the estimation of myselfand my colleagues, has trailed our Brackenfield standards in the dust.Sixteen girls, who under privilege of a parade exeat visitedWhitecliffe, have behaved in a manner which fills me with astonishmentand disgust. That they could so far forget themselves as to break line,rush on to the shore, crowd round and address a perfect stranger, passesmy comprehension, and this under the eyes of two other schools who werewalking along the promenade, and who must have been justly amazed andshocked. The girls who this afternoon were on exeat parade will kindlystand up."

  Sixteen conscience-stricken miserable sinners rose to their feet, and,feeling themselves the centre for more than two hundred pairs of eyes,yearned for the earth to yawn and swallow them up. Mrs. Morrisonregarded them for a moment or two in silence.

  "Each of you will now go to her own house and fetch the autograph shesecured," continued the mistress grimly. "I give you three minutes."

  There was a hurried exit, and the school sat and waited until theluckless sixteen returned.

  "Bring them to me!" commanded Mrs. Morrison, and in turn each girlhanded over her slip of paper with the magic signature "Henri RaoulDevereux". The Principal placed them together, then, her eyes flashing,tore them into shreds.

  "Girls who have deliberately broken rules, defied the authority of mycolleague, which is equivalent to defying me, and have lowered theprestige of the school in the eyes of the world, deserve the contempt oftheir comrades, who, I hope, will show their opinion of such conduct. Ifeel that any imposition I can give them is inadequate, and that theirown sense of shame should be sufficient punishment; yet, in order toenforce the lesson, I shall expect each to recite ten lines of poetry toher House Mistress every morning before breakfast until the end of theterm; and Marjorie Anderson, who, I understand, was the instigator ofthe whole affair, will spend Saturday afternoon indoors until she hascopied out the whole of Bacon's essay on 'Empire'. You may go now."

  Marjorie slunk off to St. Elgiva's in an utterly wretched frame of mind.It was bad enough to be reproved in company with fifteen others, but tobe singled out for special condemnation and held up to obloquy beforeall the school was terrible. In spite of herself hot
tears were in hereyes. She tried to blink them back, for crying was scouted atBrackenfield, but just at that moment she came across Rose, Phyllis,Laura, and Gertrude weeping openly in a corner.

  "I'll never hold up my head again!" gulped Phyllis. "Oh, the Empress wascross! And I'm sure it was all because those wretched girls from 'HopeHall' and 'The Birches' were walking along the promenade and saw us. Ifthey'd had any sense they'd have rushed down and asked for autographsfor themselves."

  "It was mean of the Empress to tear ours up!" moaned Gertrude. "I callthat a piece of temper on her part!"

  "And after all, I don't see that we did anything so very dreadful!"choked Rose. "Mrs. Morrison was awfully down on us!"

  "I hate learning poetry before breakfast!" wailed Laura.

  "I'm the worst off," sighed Marjorie. "I've got to spend Saturdayafternoon pen-driving, and it's the match with Holcombe. I'm just theunluckiest girl in the whole school. Strafe it all! It's a grizzlynuisance. I should like to slay myself!"

  To Marjorie no punishment was greater than being forced to stay indoors.She was essentially an open-air girl, and after a long morning in theschoolroom her whole soul craved for the playing-fields. She had takenup hockey with the utmost enthusiasm. She keenly enjoyed the practices,and was deeply interested in the matches played by the school team. Theevent on Saturday afternoon was considered to be of special importance,for Brackenfield was to play the First Eleven of the Holcombe Ladies'Club. They had rather a good reputation, and the game would probably bea stiff tussle. Every Brackenfielder considered it her duty to bepresent to watch the match and encourage the School Eleven.

  Marjorie would have given worlds to evade her punishment task thatSaturday, but Mrs. Morrison's orders were as the laws of the Medes andPersians that cannot be altered, so she was policed to the St. Elgiva'ssitting-room by Miss Norton, and provided with sheets of exercise paperand a copy of Bacon's _Essays_.

  "I shall expect it to be finished by tea-time," said the mistressbriefly. "If not, you will have to stay in again on Monday."

  Marjorie frowned at the threat of further confinement, and settledherself with rather aggressive slowness. She was in a pixy mood, and didnot mean to show any special haste in beginning her unwelcome work. MissNorton glared at her, but made no further remark, and with a glance atthe clock left the room. All the girls had already gone to thehockey-field, and Marjorie had St. Elgiva's to herself. She opened thebook languidly, found Essay XIX, "Of Empire", and groaned.

  "It'll take me the whole afternoon, strafe it all!" she muttered. "Iwish Francis Bacon had never existed! I wonder the Empress didn't tellme to write an essay on Aeroplanes. If I drew them all round the edgesof the pages, I wonder what would happen? I'd love to do it, and putCaptain Devereux's picture at the end! I expect I'd get expelled if Idid. Oh dear! It's a weary world! I wish I were old enough to leaveschool and drive a transport wagon. Have I got to stop here till I'meighteen? Another two years and a half, nearly! It gives me spasms tothink of it!"

  She dipped her pen in the ink and copied:

  "It is a miserable state of mind to have few things to desire, and manythings to fear."

  "I agree with old Bacon," she commented. "Only I've got great heaps ofthings to desire, and the one I want most at present is to go to thehockey match. I wish his shade would come and help me! They didn't playhockey in his days, so it would be a new experience for him. FrancisBacon, I command you to give me a hand with your wretched essay, andI'll take you to the match in return!"

  A smart rap-tap on the window behind her made Marjorie start and turnround in a hurry. Her invocation, however, had not called up the ghostlycountenance of the defunct Sir Francis to face her; it was Dona'sroguish-looking eyes which twinkled at her from the other side of thepane.

  "Open the window!" ordered that damsel.

  Marjorie obeyed in much amazement. Dona was standing at the top of aladder which just reached to the window-sill.

  "Old Williams has been clipping the ivy," she explained, "so I'vecommandeered his ladder. I haven't broken any rules. I've never beentold that I mustn't get up a ladder."

  The girls' sitting-room at St. Elgiva's was on the upper floor, andmembers of other houses were strictly forbidden to mount the stairs.Marjorie laughed at Dona's evasion of the edict.

  "Give me a hand and I'll toddle in," continued the latter. "Steady oh!Don't pull too hard. Here I am!"

  "Glad to see you, but you'll get into a jinky little row if the AcidDrop catches you!"

  "Right oh, chucky! The Acid Drop is at this moment watching the team forall she's worth. She's awfully keen on hockey."

  "I know. And so am I," said Marjorie aggrievedly. "It's the limit tomiss this match."

  "You're not going to miss it altogether. I've come to help you. Here,give me a pen, and I'll copy some of the stuff out for you. Ourwriting's so alike no one will guess--and you'll get out at half-time."

  "You mascot! But you're missing the match yourself!"

  "I don't care twopence. I'm not keen on hockey like you are. Give me apen, I tell you!"

  "But how are we to manage?" objected Marjorie. "If we do alternate pageswe shan't each know where to begin, and we can't leave spaces, or theAcid Drop would twig."

  "Marjorie Anderson, I always thought you'd more brains than I have, butyou're not clever to-day! You must write small, so as to get each lineof print exactly into a line of exercise paper. There are twenty bluelines on each sheet--very well then, you copy the first twenty of oldBacon, and I'll copy the second twenty, and there we are, alternatepages, as neat as you please!"

  "Dona, you've a touch of genius about you!" purred Marjorie.

  The plan answered admirably. By writing small, it was quite possible tobring each line of print into correspondence with the manuscript. Therewere a hundred and twenty lines altogether in the essay, which workedout at six pages of exercise paper. Each counted out her own portion,then scribbled away as fast as was consistent with keeping the size ofher caligraphy within due bounds. Thirty-five minutes' hard work broughtthem to the last word. Marjorie breathed a sigh of rapture, fastened thepages together with a clip, and took them downstairs to Miss Norton'sstudy.

  "You're an absolute trump, old girl!" she said to Dona.

  The latter, meantime, had run downstairs and removed the ladder back towhere she had found it, so that no trace of her little adventure shouldbe left behind. The two girls hurried off to the playing-field, but tookcare not to approach together, in case of awakening suspicions.

  Everybody's attention was so concentrated on the match that Marjorieslipped into a crowd of Intermediates unnoticed by mistresses. She wasin time for part of the game, and keenly enjoyed watching a brilliantrun by Daisy Edwards, and a terrific tussle on the back line resultingin a splendid shot by Hilda Alworthy. When the whistle blew for time thescore stood six goals to three, Brackenfield leading, and Marjoriejoined with enthusiasm in the cheers. She loitered a little in thefield, and came back among the last. Miss Norton, who was standing inthe hall, looked at her keenly as she entered St. Elgiva's, but theteacher had just found the essay "Of Empire" laid on her desk, and,turning it over, had marked it correct. If she had any suspicions shedid not voice them, but allowed the matter to pass.