CHAPTER IV
THE HOLLIES
"I have had playmates, I have had companions, In my days of childhood, in my joyful school-days."
I was happy at school, though the work was hard and the disciplinestrict. When I try to recall our system of education, I think it musthave been somewhat unique, for it was an endeavour to combine the verybest points of a thoroughly modern course of study with the rigid rulesand exemplary behaviour of a past generation. We learnt mathematics atThe Hollies, but we curtsied to our teachers as we left the room; we hadchemistry classes in a well-fitted laboratory, but we were taught themost exquisite darning and the finest of open hem-stitch; we playedcricket, hockey, and all modern games, but we used backboards and weremade to walk round the school-room balancing books upon our heads, tolearn to hold ourselves erect; we had the best of professors forlanguages and literature, and we were taught to receive visitorsgraciously, to dispense afternoon tea, arrange flowers, and to write andanswer invitations correctly.
It was the summer term. Each morning the great school bell roused usfrom our slumbers at half-past six, and woe to her who dared to turnover and go to sleep again! At a quarter-past seven we assembled in thehall, where rows of little blue mugs were waiting for us upon the table;then, under the escort of Miss Buller, we all turned out, weatherpermitting, to go and drink the waters for which Helston Spa was famous.The brisk run through the fields, where the hawthorn was opening, and anoccasional bird's nest might be found by those who were skilful enoughto lag behind, was inspiriting as a beginning to the day. We alwaysentreated for the stile path, and lamented when a wet night made MissBuller declare the grass too damp, and necessitated a walk along thehigh-road, where we must file two and two--"in a crocodile," as Janetcalled it.
"Why a crocodile?" asked Lucy, who was not yet used to school-girlparlance.
"Oh, don't you know?" replied Janet. "Some terribly clever person, Ican't remember whether it was Ruskin or Browning or Carlyle or who itwas, said he would any day rather meet a crocodile than a ladies'school, so a long row of girls has been called a crocodile ever since."
"It's a stupid old-fashioned custom," said Ellinor, who was generallydisposed to grumble. "At St. Chad's the girls have bounds and may gowhere they please, three together. I hate to be paraded like a file ofconvicts. We look so foolish carrying our mugs, anyone would take us fora Sunday-school picnic."
Whether we came by field-path or road the well was quite a romantic spotwhen we reached it, for the water bubbled up in a clear spring from arocky basin grown round with moss and shaded by ferns. As yet it had notbeen spoilt by having had a pavilion built over it, but was left in itsnatural condition, under the care of a homely old woman called Betty,who turned an honest penny by dispensing the waters to visitors, and whostood our school-girl banter with perfect good-humour.
"Good-morning, Mother Shipton! You haven't flown away on your broomstickyet?"
"My broom's too busy sweepin' floors, miss, to be used for anythingelse."
"What will you do when we've drunk up all the waters, Betty?"
"There's plenty more, miss, where this comes from, so I won't deny youanother mugful if you're wantin' it."
"No, thank you, one is enough of such disgusting stuff! What I want nowis something to take the taste out of my mouth."
Betty drove a brisk but illicit trade with us in toffee. She kept abasket concealed under her chair, in which was a species of mint-rockvery dear to our souls. We were not supposed to be allowed to buy anysuch luxuries at The Hollies, but at this point of the proceedings MissBuller would kindly turn her back and pretend to take a deep interest inthe surrounding landscape, thinking perhaps that the nastiness of thewaters deserved some recompense. In my own case, I am certain thecombined flavours completely spoilt my breakfast. I was growing fast,and was inclined to be a little fastidious about my food. Mrs. Marshallheld to the old-fashioned principle that we must finish everything thatwas put upon our plates; a trying rule for me, for, like many children,I had a horror of fat, and to have eaten it would, I think, almost havechoked me. Very fortunately I sat at table next to a girl named MarionBurns, whose appetite was large and indiscriminate. The portions which Iviewed with dismay were to her insufficient, so I hit upon the happyexpedient of slipping a part of my dinner each day upon her plate, and,like Jack Spratt and his wife, I was thus able to "leave the platterclean". Strange to say my little manoeuvre was never discovered, evenby the watchful eyes of Miss Percy.
Miss Percy was Mrs. Marshall's right hand in all matters of discipline.She was a lady of uncertain age, and even more uncertain temper; though,as Cathy said, "It's not uncertain, because you may be quite sure it'sgoing to be disagreeable". She seemed to regard school-girls withperpetual suspicion, and to have a perfect genius for pouncing down uponus on the most inopportune occasions. Were we indiscreet enough to talkin bed, Miss Percy was sure to be passing the door at the identicalmoment; were we late for prayers, hoping to scuffle in unnoticed amongthe servants, she was certain to be waiting for us in the hall. She hada very lynx eye for missing buttons or untied shoe-laces, her long thinnose smelled out directly the chestnuts we endeavoured to roast by theschool-room fire, and she could catch the lowest whisper in thepreparation hour.
"I think she must have eyes in the back of her head, and second sight aswell," said Janet, who was a frequent sufferer.
In spite of the strict rules I enjoyed my new life; the variety of theschool work, the excitement of the games, and the companionship of somany girls of my own age, were far pleasanter to me than the quiethumdrum of our daily round at Aunt Agatha's.
I got on well with my school-fellows, and I think I was a favourite withmost of my class. I am sure, too, I honestly tried to share in that"give and take" which is the essence of school-girl conduct.
The one flaw in my happiness was Ernestine Salt. Since the day of myarrival she had taken a dislike to me, which she seemed to lose noopportunity of showing. There are many ways in which a girl can makeherself unpleasant without giving any actual cause of complaint, and Ifound that I was subjected to a number of petty annoyances, too smallfor comment, but which stung all the same. When we met in theladies'-chain at dancing, she would squeeze my unfortunate hand till Ialmost cried out with the pain; was it her turn to distribute the clubsat calisthenics, she would take care that I received the one with thesplit handle. She would try to leave me out in the games, and scoffed atmy efforts at croquet, rejoicing openly when my opponents won and makinglight of my best strokes. If I were unlucky enough to sit next her attea-time, she would nudge my elbow as if by accident at the very momentwhen I was raising my cup to my lips, and would profess the deepestconcern for the spill which followed. She nicknamed me "Tow-head" inallusion to my light hair, and had always some clever remark to make atmy expense. I kept out of her way as much as possible, for I was of apeaceable disposition and disliked quarrelling; but every now and thensome little occasion would arise when I was obliged to stand up formyself, and a battle would follow, in which, with her sharp tongue andruthless witticisms, she generally managed to get the best of it.
As a compensation for this trouble, I had the great delight of mygrowing friendship with Catherine Winstanley. She had taken me into herbedroom on the day after our arrival, and had shown me her varioustreasures--the water-colour picture of her home which hung over thechimney-piece ("painted by my mother", she explained), the photographsof her family, and snap-shots of various horses, dogs, and other pets"taken by the boys".
"That's George on Lady. Edward snapped them just as they were leapingthe fence. That's Dick bowling; he looks as if he were scowlinghorribly, but it's only the sun in his eyes. That's Edward asleep underthe apple-tree. I took that myself, and he was so indignant when hefound it out he wanted to tear up the photo, but I wouldn't let him.That's Father, with his fishing-rod, proudly holding up a good catch;and that is Mother pouring out tea on the lawn, with Zelica on herknee."
"Is it a rabbit?" I enquired.
"No, it's a Persian cat. Uncle Bertram brought her home really fromPersia, so we christened her out of 'Lalla Rookh'. Are you fond ofpets?"
"We haven't any at Aunt Agatha's, but I used to keep a few when I was athome. I had two green parrots, a monkey, and a terrapin; and once Tassobrought me a tiny baby puma from the forest. It was the sweetest littlething, with soft yellow fur, and it purred just like a kitten. ButFather wouldn't let me keep it; he thought it would be so dangerous whenit grew up. So he sent it to the Zoo at Monte Video."
"Tell me all about your life in South America. It is so interesting. Iwant to hear what your house was like, and your black servants, and theforest and the queer animals. Have you no pictures of them all?"
I had not, but I wrote at once to my father, who sent me a charmingseries of views of the neighbourhood, and enough pocket-money with themfor me to be lavish in the matter of frames, so my walls were soon hungwith remembrances of my old home.
Our bedrooms at The Hollies were rather a feature of the school. Theywere so arranged that the two little beds and the washstand could bescreened off by a curtain, leaving the rest as a sitting-room. A tableand two chairs stood in the window, and during the summer term we wereallowed to prepare our lessons here instead of in the school-room, aprivilege we much appreciated, but which was at once forfeited if wewere caught talking during the study hours. It was a point of honour foreach girl to make her bedroom as pretty as possible, and we vied withone another in the way of photo-frames, artistic table-covers,book-shelves, mats, and china ornaments. We were allowed to buy flowerson Saturday mornings for our vases, and must have been quite a source ofincome to the funny old man at a certain stall in the market, who keptus plentifully supplied according to the season.
"What was you wantin'? Don't know 'em, leastways by that name," as Ienquired for lilacs. "Oh, ay, _loy_lacs! Here you have 'em, purple andwhite, and no charge extry for smell. Roses? I can bring 'em next week,both Glory Johns and Jack Minnots" (he meant Gloire de Dijon andJacqueminots!). "Sweet peas is gettin' on gradely, and Fair Maids o'France, just ready for the fair maids who buy 'em!" with an attempt ata compliment which was severely repressed by Miss Percy, who whiskedus away in a hurry lest the old man should become "too familiar".
But to return to Cathy. Whenever possible I sat next her in school, Iwas her partner when we walked out "in crocodile", and she kindlyinitiated me into the mysteries of cricket, Badminton, archery, andcroquet, in all of which I had hitherto been profoundly ignorant. Shewas a most stimulating companion. A little older than myself, andbrought up among a family of brothers, she had all the frank open waysof a boy, with the pretty attractive manners which often mark amuch-thought-of only daughter. To hear her talk took me into a newworld. Instead of the ordinary topics common among school-girls, thelessons, the games, the chances for the next prize, or grumbles at MissPercy's tiresome rules, she would tell me about her home, and thedelightful round of hobbies and interests which seemed to make up theirlife at Marshlands. I did not know before that people pressed ferns,collected shells and sea-weeds, painted studies of birds and flowers,scoured the hills in search of antiquities, and held classes forwood-carving among the village boys. At my aunt's I had heard of none ofthese things. I had lived almost entirely in the nursery andschool-room, and on the few occasions when I had been allowed to comedown to the drawing-room the conversation was certainly far fromintellectual.
"But do your father and mother go out to picnics, and hunt for shells,and help you to paste sea-weeds in books?" I asked, almostincredulously.
"Why, of course! They enjoy it as much as we do. Father is tremendouslykeen on butterflies, and Mother is making a collection of mosses andlichens. It wouldn't be half the fun unless they did everything with us.Just wait until you come to stay at Marshlands and then you'll see foryourself. Mother means to ask you, I know."
I very much hoped she would, as I could imagine no greater treat than avisit to Cathy's home. I longed to see all the places she had described,and to meet the people of whom she had spoken, and to share in the manytempting projects which she seemed to be planning. I was proud of herfriendship, for she was popular at school, and could have taken herchoice of playmates among girls who were both older and cleverer thanmyself. To be thus singled out as her special companion seemed an honourof which I felt scarcely worthy, and my letters to my father were mainlyfilled with ecstatic praises of my new friend.
The Fortunes of Philippa: A School Story Page 5
