CHAPTER VIII
A Sensation
"Look here," said Betty to her room-mates that evening, "those poorgirls in No. 8 are just yearning for a sensation. Don't you think weought to be philanthropic and supply it for them?"
"Yearning for a what?" asked Marjorie, pausing with a sponge in her handand reaching for the towel.
"Yearning for a sensation," repeated Betty. "Life at an ordinaryboarding-school is extremely dull. 'The daily round, the common task',is apt to pall. What we all crave for is change, and especially changeof a spicy, unexpected sort that makes you jump."
"I don't want to jump, thanks."
"Perhaps you don't, but those girls in No. 8 do. They're longing forabsolute creeps--only a ghost, or a burglar, or an air raid, orsomething really stirring, would content them."
"I'm afraid they'll have to go discontented then."
"Certainly not. As I remarked before, we ought to be philanthropic andprovide a little entertainment to cheer them up. I have a plan."
"Proceed, O Queen, and disclose it then."
"Barbara Wright suggested it to me--not intentionally, of course. We'llplay a rag on them. One of us must pretend to sleep-walk and go intotheir room. It ought to give them spasms. Do you catch on?"
"Rather!" replied the others.
"But who's going to do the sleep-walking business?" asked Irene.
"Marjorie's the best actress. We'll leave it to her. Give us a specimennow, old sport, and show us how you'll do it. Oh, that's ripping! It'lltake them in no end. I should like to see Barbara's face."
Marjorie was always perfectly ready for anything in the way of apractical joke, especially if it were a new variety. The girls had grownrather tired of apple-pie beds or sewn-up nightdress sleeves, but nobodyhad yet thought of somnambulism.
"I'm not going to stop awake again, though, until twelve," she objected."I had enough of it last night. It's somebody else's turn."
"Whoever happens to wake must call the others," suggested Irene.
"We'll leave it at that," they agreed.
For two successive nights, however, all four girls slept soundly untilthe seven-o'clock bell rang. They were generally tired, and none of themsuffered from insomnia. On the third night Betty heard the clock striketwo, and, going into Marjorie's cubicle, tickled her awake.
"Get up! You've got to act Lady Macbeth!" she urged. "Best opportunityfor a star performance you've ever had in your life. You'll take thehouse."
"I'm so sleepy," yawned Marjorie. "And," putting one foot out of bed,"it's so beastly cold!"
"Never mind, the fun will be worth it. We're going to wait about to hearthem squeal. It'll be precious. No, you musn't put on your dressing-gownand bedroom slippers--sleep-walkers never do--you must go as you are."
"Play up, Marjorie!" decreed the others, who were also awake.
Thus encouraged, Marjorie rose to the occasion and began to act herpart. There was one difficulty to be overcome. At night a lamp was leftburning in the corridor, but the bedrooms were in darkness. How were theoccupants of No. 8 going to see her? They must be decoyed somehow fromtheir beds. She decided to open the door of their room so as to let in alittle light, then enter, walk round their cubicles, and go out again onto the landing, where she hoped they would follow her. Softly sheentered the door of No. 8, and advanced in a dramatic attitude withoutstretched hands, in imitation of a picture she had once seen of LadyMacbeth. The light from the corridor, though dim, was quite sufficientto render objects distinct. At the first stealthy steps Daisy Shaw awokepromptly. Her shuddering little squeal aroused the others, and theygazed spellbound at the white-robed figure parading in ghostly fashionround their room. Avoiding the furniture, Marjorie, with arms stilloutstretched, tacked back into the corridor. Exactly as she hadanticipated, the girls rose and followed her. They were huddled togetherat the door of their dormitory, watching her with awestruck faces, whenan awful thing happened. Another door opened, and Miss Norton, bluedressing-gown and bedroom slippers and all, appeared on the scene.
"What's the matter?" she asked sharply.
"Marjorie Anderson's walking in her sleep!" whispered the girls.
Now in this horrible emergency Marjorie had to act promptly or not atall. She decided that her best course was to go on shammingsomnambulism. She walked down the corridor, therefore, with a rapid,stealthy step.
Miss Norton turned on the frightened girls, and, whispering: "Don'tdisturb her on any account!" followed in the wake of her pupil.
Then began a most exciting promenade. Marjorie, with eyes set in a stonyglare, marched downstairs into the hall. She stood for a moment by thefront door, as if speculating whether to unlock it or not. She couldhear Miss Norton breathing just behind her, and was almost tempted totry the experiment of shooting back at least one bolt, but decided itwas wiser not to run the risk. Instead she walked into the housemistress's study, turned over a few papers in an abstracted fashion,threw them back on to the table, and went towards the window. Here againMiss Norton shadowed her closely, evidently suspecting that she haddesigns of opening it and climbing out. She turned round, however, and,with apparently unseeing eyes, stared in the teacher's face, and stolestealthily back up the stairs. At her own bedroom door she paused, inseeming uncertainty as to whether to enter or not. Miss Norton laid agentle hand on her arm, and guided her quietly into her room and towardsher bed. Marjorie decided to take the hint. Wandering about in anightdress, with bare feet, was a very cold performance, and it was allshe could do to prevent herself from palpably shivering. Keeping up herpart, she gave a gentle little sigh, got into bed, laid her head on herpillow, and closed her eyes. She could feel Miss Norton pulling theclothes over her, and, with another quivering sigh, she sank apparentlyinto deepest slumber. The teacher stayed a few minutes watching her,then, as she never moved, went very quietly away and closed the doorafter her.
Nothing was said at head-quarters next morning about the night'sadventures, but Miss Norton looked rather carefully at Marjorie, askedher if she felt well, and told her she was to go to Nurse Hall every dayat eleven in the Ambulance Room for a dose of tonic. Marjorie, who hadnot intended her practical joke to run to such lengths, felt ratherashamed of herself, but dared not confess.
"There'd be a terrific scene if Norty knew," she said to Betty, andBetty agreed with her.
In the afternoon, when Marjorie ran up to her cubicle for apocket-handkerchief, to her surprise she found Mrs. Morrison theresuperintending a man who was measuring the window. She wondered why, fornothing, apparently, was wrong with it; but nobody dared ask questionsof the Empress, so she took her clean handkerchief and fled. Later onthat day she learned the reason.
"We're to have brass bars across our window," Sylvia informed her. "Iheard the Empress and the Acid Drop talking about it. They're fearfullyexpensive in war-time, but the Empress said: 'Well, the expense cannotbe helped; I daren't risk letting the poor child jump through thewindow. Her door must certainly be locked every night.' And Norty said:'Yes, it's a very dangerous thing.'"
"Are they putting the bars up for me?" exclaimed Marjorie.
"Of course. Don't you see, they think you walk in your sleep and mightkill yourself unless you're protected. Nice thing it'll be to have barsacross our window and our door locked at night. It will feel likeprison. I wish to goodness you'd never played such a trick!"
"Well, I'm sure you all wanted me to. It wasn't my idea to begin with,"retorted Marjorie.
Great was the indignation in No. 9 at the prospect of this defacement oftheir pretty window. The girls talked the matter over.
"Something's got to be done!" said Betty decidedly.
THEY WERE HUDDLED TOGETHER, WATCHING HER WITH AWESTRUCKFACES]
"Yes," groaned Marjorie, "I shall have to own up. There's nothing elsefor it. But I'm not going to tell the Acid Drop. I'm going straight tothe Empress herself. She'll be the more decent of the two."
"I believe you're right," agreed Betty. "Look here, it was my idea, soI'm goi
ng with you."
"And I was in it too," said Irene.
"And so was I," said Sylvia.
"Then we'll all four go in a body," decided Betty. "Come along, let'sbeard the lioness in her den and get it over."
Mrs. Morrison was extremely surprised at the tale the girls had to tell.She frowned, but looked considerably relieved.
"As you have told me yourselves I will let it pass," she commented, "butyou must each give me your word of honour that there shall be no more ofthese silly practical jokes. I don't consider it at all clever to try tofrighten your companions. Jokes such as these sometimes have veryserious results. Will you each promise?"
"Yes, Mrs. Morrison, on my honour," replied four meek voices in chorus.
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