A harum-scarum schoolgirl

by Angela Brazil

  CHAPTER XIX

  Ambitions

  The poor little foundling, pending her mother's trial at the Assizes,was boarded out in the village with Mrs. Jones, and Diana had permissionto see her twice a week. Miss Todd communicated with the "Home forDestitute Children", and received the reply that, should the mother beconvicted, as seemed only too probable, they would be ready to receivethe baby, and would apply to the judge for an order for entire charge,so that it should not be claimed and taken away to a possibly criminallife when the mother's term of penal servitude was over.

  For the present, therefore, there was nothing more to be done excepttake an interest in their protegee. Diana set to work to make her adress--a really heroic effort, for she hated sewing--and sat stitchingat it on those afternoons when the other girls were riding Lady. It wastypical of Diana that she would not discuss her arrangement about thepony with anybody, not even Wendy.

  "I've done it for reasons of my own, and that's enough!" she said rathercrossly. "You've no need to thank me--it wasn't particularly to please_you_! I suppose I can do as I like!"

  "Of course you _can_, but you needn't flare up so!" retorted Sadie."_Most_ people would _expect_ to be thanked. What a queer girl you are,Diana!"

  At which remark Diana grunted and turned away.

  It is a funny thing that a burst of self-sacrifice often leaves us in abad temper. Diana was no model heroine, only a very ordinary and ratherspoilt girl. The reaction after giving up her pony had sent her spiritsdown to zero, and if all her doings are to be faithfully chronicled, itmust be confessed that for a day or two she did not display herself ather best. She was snappy even with Loveday, and matters came to an openquarrel with Hilary, who, as prefect, was inclined to be dictatorial. Awar of words followed; Hilary threatened to appeal to Miss Todd, andDiana, defeated but unrepentant, retired vowing vengeance.

  "I'll pay you out some day; see if I don't!" she declared hotly.

  "You're not worth noticing!" retorted Hilary, shrugging her shoulders.

  Diana retired to the ivy room, had a thoroughly good cry, and came downwith red eyes, but feeling better. She did not speak to Hilary again,however, for days.

  Meantime, examinations were drawing near. Although Miss Todd conductedher school on absolutely modern lines, she still clung to examinationsas being some test of a girl's attainments. The seniors in especial wereanxious to distinguish themselves. It was their last chance before theyleft, and all, with the exception of Stuart and Ida, who were to remainas gardening students, were leaving at the end of the term. The breakingup of her school-days meant an anxious time for Loveday. When they werealone in the ivy room she sometimes confided her troubles to Diana.

  "I don't know what I'm to do next. Uncle Fred has told me plainly thatthe little sum of money my father left has been nearly all spent on myeducation, and that he himself can't do anything for me. I'd like to goand take a proper training for something--kindergarten, or horticulture,or domestic economy. But how can I when there's nothing to do it on? Isuppose it'll end in my going out as a nursery governess."

  "Oh, Loveday!"

  "Well, what else can I do? I daresay I'd love the children, and be quitehappy in a way, but the worst of it is, it's such a blind alley, andleads to nothing. It's all very well to be a nursery governess whenyou're eighteen, but I'd like to be something better at thirty-six. Ifyou want to get anything decent in the way of a post you have to train."

  Diana, to whom all these ideas were fresh and bewildering, was trying toadjust her brains to the new problems. She wrenched her mind from thenear present, and took a mental review of Loveday's far future.

  "But aren't you going to get married?" was the result of hercogitations.

  Loveday, busy plying her hair-brush, shook her long flaxen manedolefully.

  "I don't say I wouldn't _like_ to. But I don't think it's at all likely.I'm not an attractive kind of girl; I know that well enough. I'm so shy.I never know what to say to people when they begin to talk to me. Theymust think me a silly goose. You should see my cousin Dorothy; she'salways the very life and soul of a party. If I were like _that_ now! Idon't suppose anybody'll ever trouble to look at me twice. I'm sureAuntie thinks so. No; I expect I've just got to make up my mind to be anursery governess for the rest of my days."

  Diana, still in a state of mental bewilderment, looked at pretty Lovedaysitting on the bed brushing out her silky fair hair, and her memoryswitched itself back suddenly to the last evening of their motor trip.She had been sitting in the lounge of the hotel, and through the opendoor could see Giles standing in the hall. Loveday had come runningdownstairs. Diana would never forget the look that for an instantflashed across Giles's face. It contained something that she had not yetaltogether grasped or realized.

  "I wouldn't make up my mind too soon if I were you," she said slowly."You might change it some day."

  Whatever the future might hold in store, the present was the mostimmediate concern. Loveday wished to take back a good report to heruncle and aunt, and studied hard so as to obtain a fair place in theexamination lists. She had just a faint hope that if they thought sheshowed any intellectual promise they might consider it worth while tohave her trained. They had never made much of her attainments, but ifshe could come out third or fourth in the school she felt they would bepleased. It would be impossible to overstep Geraldine or Hilary, but herwork was tolerably on a level with Ida's and Stuart's, and certainlyabove Nesta's.

  It was just at this crisis that Miss Todd offered a prize for the bestessay on "The Reconstruction of England after the Great War, and itsSpecial Application to Women's Labour and Social Problems".

  It was rather an ambitious topic for girls to tackle, but the seniorsattacked it with the crude courage of seventeen. It is often easier atthat age to state our opinions than later, when our minds wobble withfirst-hand experience of the world. At any rate, it gives a force andstyle to an essay to be absolutely sure that what you write in it is thefinal thing to be said on the subject. The girls scribbled away, tore upmany sheets, showed bits to admiring friends, and felt themselvesbudding authoresses. Public opinion, surging round the school, hadalready fixed the laurel wreath on the head of Hilary. Hilary exhibiteddecided literary ability; she had quite a clever knack of writing, andhad composed several short stories. When she read these aloud--inbed--her thrilled listeners decided that they were worthy of appearingin print.

  "Why don't you send them to a magazine?" urged Peggy, who slept inDormitory 4.

  "Perhaps I may some day--but please don't tell anybody a word about it,"said Hilary, putting the cherished stories away again inside herdispatch-case.

  In the ivy room Loveday also wrote and burnt, and wrote and tore up, andwrote again. Composition was her strong point, and though she knew shecould never rival Hilary in mathematics or languages, she might possiblymatch her in the matter of an essay. In imagination Loveday took homethe prize and showed it to her uncle and aunt, who were so overcome withamazement that they at once decided to send her to college on thestrength of it.

  On Wednesday afternoon the school had planned a mountain walk; but theweather, with its usual northern perversity, turned on the water-tap,and sent down deluges of rain. July can be quite as wet as February, andthrough the steaming window-panes the disappointed girls watched littlerivers racing down the walks, and black clouds driving over the fells.The pent-up energy that wanted to spend itself in walking must find someother vent. The seniors, with one accord, retired to their form-room tocopy out their essays. Miss Chadwick charitably conducted the juniors,clad in mackintoshes and goloshes down to the stable, and let them climbthe ladder on to the hay in the loft, where she sat and told themstories. She did not invite the intermediates, so they were left totheir own devices.

  Diana, suffering from a cold, annoyed with the weather, and cross thatshe was not allowed to go out into the rain, raged up and down the room,and finally, for lack of any other form of physical exercise, organizeda jumping competition.

/>   The girls scrambled over the desks and took leaps on to the floor. Theysquealed as they did so, and every now and then broke into hallos orbursts of song. It was certainly not a quiet occupation. In the midst ofthe riot the door opened, and Hilary, in a towering temper, made herappearance.

  "I never heard such a disgraceful noise in my life!" she stormed. "Itsounds like a menagerie or an infants' tea-party. Great girls of yourage to be jumping about like babies. You ought to be ashamed ofyourselves! Here are we all trying to copy our essays; and how d'youthink we're going to write with that racket going on over our heads? Ifyou don't stop I shall fetch Miss Todd. She'll hear it for herself verysoon, if you don't take care, and then there'll be squalls. She'sworking in her study."

  There was truth in Hilary's remarks. Though they would not acknowledgethere was anything derogatory to the dignity of intermediates inindulging in the pastime of jumping, they knew full well that should thenoise penetrate to the precincts of the study Miss Todd would issueforth like a dragon. But Diana was cross, and not disposed to takereproof lightly. She pulled one of her most impossible faces, andstormed back at Hilary.

  "You seniors want to have the school all to yourselves! It's a holidayafternoon; and why shouldn't we do as we like? We've just as good aright to amuse ourselves in our own way as you have. I don't see why youshould tyrannize over us. You're always interfering! What business is itof yours what we do?"

  "Very much my business, Diana Hewlitt, considering I'm prefect," saidHilary grimly. "If I've any more cheek from you you'll march down andreport yourself in the study. This noise must stop. I give you warningthat if it begins again I shall go straight to Miss Todd."

  "You'll be a sneak then," retorted Diana. "I've a great many scores tosettle with _you_, Hilary. You'll have a very unpleasant surprise beforelong, so look out!"

  Hilary did not deign to answer, but stalked away in majestic silence,leaving gloom behind her. The girls knew perfectly well that even for aholiday afternoon they had exceeded the noise limit. Visions of asurprise visit from Miss Todd kept them silent. Tattie brought out hersewing, and Peggy her painting. Sadie went down to the library for abook. Wendy and Jess began a game of halma. Even Diana, after staringdisconsolately out of the window, settled to read _Ivanhoe_. Downstairsthe seniors, in peace and quiet, finished copying out their essays.

  "They look so neat now they're done," rejoiced Geraldine. "Shall youkeep your old copy?"

  "What's the use?" said Hilary. "Mine's all alterations and corrections.I shall just tear it up."

  "Well, so shall I."

  Most of the others followed suit, and made a bonfire in the empty gratewith the originals of their essays. The fair copies they placed insidetheir desks. Hilary put hers away with the short stories she hadwritten, and, happening to be in a rather communicative mood, sheconfided the secret of these literary efforts to Stuart. Stuart was muchimpressed.

  "Why don't you try to publish them?" she asked.

  "Well, I would if I could," admitted Hilary.

  "I saw a little bit in the end of the _Blue Magazine_ saying that theeditor would be glad to consider contributions."

  "Oh, did you? Where is it?"

  "I'll find it for you."

  Stuart hunted up the magazine, found the paragraph in question, andtendered good advice.

  "I'd certainly send them if I were you. Why shouldn't you try as well asanybody else? They might be accepted. Just think of having a story in amagazine! I'd die of swelled head if it were mine."

  "I suppose there's no harm in trying," fluttered Hilary. "It would be ajoke to see one's own story in print."

  "Send some of them off to-day."

  "Shall I?"

  "Why not?"

  "I don't know which to choose."

  "Oh, any of them!"

  Thus urged, Hilary drew three of her manuscripts at a venture, put theminside a long envelope, wrote a short note offering them to the editor,enclosed it, fastened, addressed, and stamped her letter, and placed itin the post-box in the hall.

  "What fun if you have some luck!" said Stuart.

  "I drew a tiny little swastika inside the envelope, and I made threecrosses over it with my right forefinger," confessed Hilary, "but Idon't suppose it's any use; they'll probably come packing back."

  "Well, if they do you must send them to some other magazine," saidStuart hopefully.

  Diana felt a little cheered up after reading three chapters of_Ivanhoe_, but she was still angry with Hilary. She felt that she wouldlike to play a trick upon her. It would really serve her right for beingso generally disagreeable. There was no need at all for prefects to takeadvantage of their office and ride roughshod over the intermediates. Howcould she possibly pay her out and settle the score between them? Shepondered for a while, then had a sudden brain-wave and chuckled. First,she ascertained that the senior room was empty, then she paid asurreptitious visit to the pantry and purloined a pepper-pot. Hidingthis for safety in her pocket she went back to the senior room, openedHilary's desk, and put a plentiful sprinkling of pepper inside.

  "It'll make Hilary just sneeze her head off to-morrow!" triumphed Diana."She'll think she's got a touch of 'flu', and she'll be in _such_ ascare! I'd give worlds to see the fun. Only, of course, I daren't showmyself, or she'll find out. No, that would never do."

  Putting the pepper-pot back in her pocket, she was in the act of leavingthe room, when in the dusk she collided with Geraldine. The astonishmentwas mutual.

  "What are you doing here, Diana?" asked the head prefect sharply.

  "Oh, nothing in particular. I was just taking a roam round the school,that's all."

  "You've no business to roam into the senior room. Keep to your ownquarters. We can't have juniors coming in here!"

  "I'm not a junior!"

  "Well, intermediates are quite as bad, if not worse!"

  Diana beat a retreat, for the supper-bell was ringing. She marched intothe dining-room with a defiant twinkle in her eyes, and meeting Wendy,could not refrain from whispering:

  "Done 'em brown for once! Hilary'll get the surprise of her lifeto-morrow."

  "Sh! Sh!" warned Wendy too late.

  Geraldine, who was exactly behind, and who had evidently overheard,glared at the couple, but forbore to speak. Indeed there was not timefor her to do so, for the girls were taking their seats, and Miss Toddwas waiting to say grace. It is undignified for a head prefect to taketoo much notice of the chance remarks of intermediates, so Geraldine letthe matter pass, and, whatever her private thoughts might be, did notrevive the subject after supper.

  CHAPTER XX

  A Tangled Plot

  Loveday and Diana went to bed that evening just as usual. They performedtheir customary hair-brush drill, twisted Diana's light-brown locks incurl-rags, and plaited Loveday's flaxen mane in two long braids, foldedtheir clothes neatly, read their Bible portions, said their prayers, andblew out the candle. Then they lay chatting quietly till Miss Beverleycame on her nightly round of dormitory inspection.

  "Only a few weeks more and we shall be saying good-bye to the ivy room,"said Loveday. "I shall be back in Liverpool; and where will you be,Diana?"

  "Crossing the Atlantic, I hope. Dad's had our names down for passagesfor ever so long, and they told him our turn might come early in August.We're crazy to get home again."

  "I don't wonder! But _how_ I'll miss you! I shall want heaps ofletters."

  "Rather! And so shall I. I'll want to know what you're doing."

  "Answering advertisements about posts as nursery governess," saidLoveday bitterly. "No luck ever comes to me. I had a sort of wild ideathat if I won the prize for that essay Uncle Fred might think it worthwhile sending me somewhere to train; but I _know_ I shan't get it now.Hilary read us bits out of hers, and it's just splendid--far better thanmine. I'm not in the innings."

  "Oh, Loveday, what a shame! The prize means so much more to you than toHilary."

  "I know it does. She'll win the maths prize too, and the Latin one."
/>
  "It doesn't seem fair she should get everything. I wonder if she'd holdback her essay so as to give you a chance?"

  "Not she!"

  "But if----"

  At that identical moment Miss Beverley opened the door, and, candle inhand, looked round the room to see that all was left tidy. Herinspection was swift; she said "Good night, girls!" shut the door, andwent downstairs to drink cocoa in Miss Todd's study. After her eveninground the silence rule was a point of honour in the dormitories. Lovedayand Diana turned over and went to sleep.

  Some time in the middle of the night Diana woke with a start, just intime to see Loveday in a blue dressing-gown, with their bedroom candlein her hand, disappearing through the door. Where could Loveday begoing? Had she heard burglars? Was she ill? Why had she not roused herroom-mate? Could she by any chance be walking in her sleep?

  All these questions raced through Diana's brain, and, as the quickestway to solve them, she jumped up, fumbled in the dark for her bedroomslippers and dressing-gown, and hurried after Loveday. She could see bythe glimmer of light that the candle was going downstairs. She followed,flopping along in her woollen slippers, for she had not had time to drawthem on properly. She nearly lost one on the landing, and had to stop.When she reached the hall the light had gone into the seniors' room.Diana walked softly, and peeped cautiously in. She had rather an idea ofsaying "Boo!" suddenly, and giving Loveday a scare, but she wanted toreconnoitre first. Her friend's back was turned towards her; she wasbending over a desk, not her own desk, but Hilary's. She quickly drewout a roll of manuscript, tore it across and across, carried it to thefire-place, put it inside the grate, and applied the candle. Diana,standing in the dark outside the doorway, watched her in utteramazement. So many questions began to rush into her mind that the halldid not seem the best place to answer them. She fled upstairs again,jumped into bed, and lay thinking. In a minute or two Loveday camequietly back, blew out the candle at the door, and, treading softly,also went to bed. Diana did not speak, or betray by any movement thatshe was awake. It was an hour, however, before sleep came to her. Shewas on the early practising list, so she went downstairs next morningbefore her room-mate was stirring.

  Breakfast passed over as usual; the post-bag came in; Miss Todd sortedand distributed the contents, and the girls retired to read theirletters. At ten minutes to nine something happened. Hilary, with wideopen eyes and flushed cheeks, came running along the hall.

  "Somebody's gone and taken my essay out of my desk!" she declaredexcitedly.

  Her fellow-seniors wrenched their thoughts from home news.

  "Impossible!" said Geraldine.

  "You've misplaced it!" said Stuart.

  "No, I haven't! I know just where I put it yesterday."

  "Go and look again!"

  "I've turned the whole desk out, I tell you, and it simply isn't there!"

  "Where is it, then?"

  "That's what I want to know!"

  "Has anyone taken it for a joke?"

  "I expect so, but I'll reckon with whoever has!"

  "It's probably one of those intermediates," suggested Stuart.

  "Anybody who's got it must just turn it up at once!" said Geraldinegrimly. "We can't allow this sort of thing to happen. I'll ask who'staken it."

  The head prefect made an instant tour of the school, proclaiming theloss, and demanding instant restoration. The school, as one girl,utterly denied the accusation.

  "But look here!" persisted Geraldine. "_Some__body_ must have taken it.It couldn't walk out of Hilary's desk by itself! She _knows_ she left itthere yesterday. If anybody's hiding it for a joke, please give it backat once. If it's not brought back by nine o'clock I shall tell MissTodd. Yes, I'm in earnest! Dead earnest!"

  Seniors, intermediates, and juniors, very much astonished, retired totheir form rooms and talked the matter over; but nobody produced themissing manuscript. During the course of the morning Miss Todd enteredthe intermediate room.

  "A disagreeable thing has happened, girls," she said. "Somebody hastaken Hilary's essay from her desk. If it was done as a joke, I considerit a very sorry joke! Does anyone in this room know anything about thematter? If so, she must speak out at once and tell me."

  Miss Todd looked searchingly at the faces before her, and waited for ananswer; but nobody spoke. There was a flush of annoyance on her cheeks,and that firm set about the mouth which generally indicated a dangersignal.

  "I intend to get to the bottom of it. It can't possibly be overlooked,"she remarked, as she left the room to go and catechize the juniors.

  For the rest of the morning lessons went on as usual. Immediately afterdinner, however, Diana received a message to report herself in thestudy. She went slowly. She was still thinking; she had been doingnothing else but think since that midnight excursion down the stairs. Itwas rather a white-faced, anxious-eyed little Diana who entered thestudy. Miss Todd was sitting at her desk, and Hilary and Geraldine stoodnear her. They looked half resentful and half nervous.

  "Diana," began Miss Todd, "I've sent for you because I believe you'rethe only girl who can throw any light on this most distressing business.I'm going to ask you a straight question. Have you taken Hilary'smanuscript? I expect a straight answer."

  "No," breathed Diana, looking down on the floor.

  "Look me in the face, Diana. Do you know where it is? Or anything at allabout it?"

  Diana's eyes raised themselves to the level of the Principal's knee, andthen fell to the floor. She did not answer.

  "Geraldine tells me that she saw you at Hilary's desk yesterdayevening."

  No answer.

  "You are known to have threatened to play a trick on Hilary!"

  Still no answer.

  "Very well, Diana. Until you condescend to explain, I can't allow you tomix with the rest of the school. We have rules here, and I intend theyshall be obeyed. I make no exception for any pupil. You're inclined tothink you have licence to do as you like, and play any pranks you choosehere. I'm going to teach you a lesson for once. You'll stay in the atticuntil you choose to answer my question. I've dealt with obstinate girlsbefore. Come along with me!"

  Miss Todd rose, and, taking a key from her desk, led the way to theattic at the top of the little narrow staircase. The room was verysimply furnished, and was always kept in readiness as a hospital in caseany girl should be suddenly taken ill. It was not a particularlycheerful apartment; it had a skylight window, there were no pictures onthe walls, and the floor was of scrubbed boards. It looked, as it wasintended to be, arranged with the main object of being easilydisinfected if necessary. Miss Todd ushered in Diana, and pointed to achair.

  "You may sit there and think it over," she remarked. Then she shut thedoor, and locked it on the outside.

  Left alone, Diana took a seat on one of the small iron bedsteads. Herface was a mixture of bewilderment and consternation.

  "Diana Hewlitt, it seems to me you've got yourself into _some_ fix," shesaid to herself. "What's puzzling me is that I can't believe theevidence of my own eyes. Did I _dream_ I saw Loveday go downstairs andtake a roll of papers out of Hilary's desk? Goodness, I was only toohorribly awake! The queerness of the thing bothers me. It doesn't fitin, somehow. Loveday! Loveday's the last person in the world, as Ishould have thought, to do a trick like that. I can't understand it.It's the sort of stupid thing that girls do in books. I never believedthey did it in real life. Well, one thing's certain. I'm not going totell about her--not if Miss Todd keeps me shut up here till I'm ahundred. Loveday shielded me when I ran away to say good-bye to Lenox,and I vowed I'd do the same for her if ever I got the chance. Well, I'vegot it now, and no mistake. Only--Loveday! Loveday! I don't understand!You've toppled down somehow off a pedestal. I feel as if something Iliked had got broken."

  It was anything but a cheerful afternoon for Diana. The only literaturein the room was a catalogue of the Stores and some reports of charitableinstitutions. She read the cost of tins of sardines, pots of jam, tablelinen, household china and hard
ware, and tried to take some faintinterest in the annual statements of the "District Nursing Association"and "The Society for Providing Surgical Appliances for the Sick Poor".To amuse herself she was reduced to choosing a word at random and seeinghow many other words she could make out of it, but as she had no pencilin her pocket to write them down, it was rather difficult to keep count,and the occupation soon palled. Shortly after four o'clock she heard ascrimmage on the little landing outside the door. A deep-toned voice,that sounded like Miss Beverley's, said, "Come away this minute!" and ahigh-pitched, excited voice--undoubtedly Loveday's--protested, "If you'd_only_ let me speak to her, I'm certain----"

  Then a sound followed like somebody sliding down three steps at once,and Loveday's voice, with words indistinguishable, but tone still highlyindignant, grew fainter and farther away till it ceased altogether.Diana smiled rather bitterly.

  "It's not much use her coming and talking to me," she thought. "If shewants to tell anybody, she can tell Miss Todd. She needn't think I'llgive her away. Don't suppose she knows, though, what I saw last night.It's a queer world! I'll be glad when I'm back in America. If Dad getsthose passages he'll come and cart me off, Miss Todd or no Miss Todd.I'd like to see his face if he found me locked up in an attic."

  Diana's tea was brought to her at five o'clock, and an hour later shewas visited by the Principal, who again urged confession.

  "What's the use of keeping this up?" asked the mistress impatiently."You'll have to make a clean breast of it some time, so you may just aswell do it at once. It's perfectly evident that you know where the essayis. You don't even deny that. What have you done with it?"

  And again Diana stood with the same unyielding look on her face, andstared at the floor, and did not answer a word.

  There is nothing so irritating as a person who utterly refuses to speak.Miss Todd glared at her, then turned towards the door.

  "Very well; you may spend the night here. I'm not going to waste anymore time on you now. Perhaps by to-morrow morning you'll be in adifferent frame of mind. I intend to know the truth of this; so it'smerely a matter of waiting. You can leave here the moment you decide toconfess; so you're punishing yourself by staying."

  Once more the key turned in the lock, and Diana was a prisoner. At eighto'clock Miss Beverley, in strict silence, brought in a tray with supper,placed it on the table, departed, and secured the defences. After thatnobody else even came up the stairs.

  "They might some of them have managed to push a note under the door,"sighed Diana. "I guess I'd have got a message in somehow if it had beenWendy shut up here. What a set of thick-heads they are! There isn't oneof them ever has a decent brain-wave. Wonder how long I'll have to stickin this attic? I've not lost my bounce yet. But I guess, all the same,I'll go to bed now."

  Miss Beverley, with the supper tray, had also brought Diana's night-gearin a small bundle. As there was no candle in the attic, it seemed wiseto disrobe while there was still light enough to see by. The little bedwas rather hard, the pillow was a lumpy one, and the spring mattresssqueaked when she moved. Diana watched the room grow gradually darkerand darker till stars appeared through the skylight. It was a very longtime before she slept. The early sunshine, however, woke her in thesmall hours of the morning. There was no blind to the window, and theroom faced east. Diana sat up in bed. Her eyes fell on the picturelesswalls. Perhaps the very fact of their bareness made her look at themmore particularly. She did not admire the pattern of the paper. Inplaces it had been badly fitted together, especially in that corner.Why, the magenta roses actually overlapped! They did it in a sort ofcurve, almost as if they were outlining the top of a door. _Was_ it byany chance a door?

  At this stage of her inspection she sprang out of bed, went over to thecorner, and ran her hand along the portion in question. It certainlyfelt as if the edge of a door were beneath. She rapped, and there was ahollow sound, very different from that given forth from the wall whenshe tried it a few yards farther on.

  "I'm going to solve the problem for myself," she decided.

  There was a knife left on the supper-tray. She thrust it through thepaper, and began to cut round the seeming door. And most undoubtedly itwas a door, though only a small one, with a curved top that came to theheight of her shoulder.

  "It must lead somewhere!" she thought excitedly. "Suppose I could getout on to the leads, climb down the ivy, and go off to Petteridge.Cousin Coralie wouldn't let me be brought back here to be shut up in anattic, I know!"

  She worked away laboriously, tearing at the paper to free the door. Itflashed across her mind that Miss Todd might have something to sayabout the disfigurement of the wall, but as she had gone so far, thatdid not deter her.

  "Might as well finish it now," she smiled.

  More hacking and tearing, then a gigantic shove, and the door suddenlyopened inwards. She was looking into another attic, a larger and muchdarker room, lighted only by a tiny little skylight in the corner. Itseemed full of furniture--chairs and tables piled together, andsomething that looked like a small grand piano. They were so thicklycoated with dust that it was difficult in the dim light to distinguishmore than upturned legs and general outlines. There did not appear to bethe least possibility of escape in this direction. The skylight was moreinaccessible than the one in her own attic. She sighed, went back,washed her dusty hands, and got into bed again.

  "I guess there'll be a fine old shindy when Miss Todd sees what I'vedone," she soliloquized.

  Miss Todd, who was thoroughly out of patience with Diana, did not hurryto send her breakfast up early that morning. She decided that theprisoner might very well wait until the school had finished its meal.She even distributed the post first, and began to read her own letters.She intended to carry the tray upstairs herself, and have another talkwith Diana. It was an unpleasant duty, and could be deferred for a fewminutes. Meantime the school also read its letters. There were two forHilary. One in the well-known home writing, and the other a longenvelope addressed in a strange hand. She opened this first. Itcontained three manuscripts, and a printed notice to the effect that theeditor of the _Blue Magazine_ much regretted his inability, owing tolack of space, to make use of the enclosed, for the kind offer of whichhe was much obliged.

  "My stories packed back by return of post. How disgusting!" grousedHilary. "He might have taken one of them. Are they all here, by the by?Yes; 'The Flower of the Forest', 'The Airman's Vengeance', and--GoodHeavens! What's this? Why--why, it's actually my essay on'Reconstruction'!"

  Hilary was so utterly dismayed that at first she could only stare aghastat her recovered manuscript; then she tore straight off to Miss Todd.

  "I must have put it in in mistake for my other story," she explained. "Ican't imagine how I could; but evidently I _did_! I'm too sorry forwords. _Poor_ Diana!"

  Everybody said "Poor Diana!" when the news--as news will--spread likewildfire over the school. Miss Todd ordered some fresh tea to be made,and an egg boiled for the breakfast-tray. She was a just woman, andready to make damages good. She even asked Miss Hampson to get out thelast jar of blackberry jelly; there was still one left in thestore-room. Diana, in the attic, having dressed hours ago, sat hungrilyby the table, listening for footsteps, and wondering if starvation wereto be part of her punishment. She glanced guiltily at the tornwall-paper as the key turned in the lock. Miss Todd, however, was sofull of the good news that she hardly looked at the attic wall.

  "Why did you say, Diana, that you knew something about the essay?" sheasked.

  "I never said anything at all," replied Diana, which, of course, wasliterally true.

  It was nice to eat a dainty breakfast at leisure and not hurry down tolessons. She felt herself the heroine of the school that morning as shestrolled into the French class just when the disagreeable grammar partof the lesson was over. Later on in the day there were confidences inthe ivy room.

  "I knew you hadn't done it, darling!" declared Loveday. "It wasn't likeyou one little bit. I had a regular squabble with Miss Bever
ley. I triedto come and talk to you through the door, and she came and dragged meaway. Why didn't you tell Miss Todd you'd never even seen the wretchedessay?"

  "Sissie," whispered Diana, "will _you_ tell _me_ what you were doing atHilary's desk in the middle of the night?"

  "Why--why, surely you never thought----"

  "Yes, I did; and that's why I held my tongue," said Diana, burying herhot face on Loveday's shoulder. "Forgive me, please, for having thoughtit."

  "It never struck me that anybody should think that," said Loveday, stillamazed at the idea. "And how did you know about it? Did you follow me?Well, I'll tell you what I was doing. We seniors have a secret--not avery desperate one; it's only a little literary society. We make upstories for it, and fasten them together into a sort of magazine.Geraldine is president, and Hilary is the secretary. It was the nightfor giving in the stories, and I put mine with the others insideHilary's desk. Geraldine and I haven't been quite hitting it lately; soI'd made a girl in my story exactly like her, only nastier, and writtena lot of very sarcastic things. I thought they were awfully clever. Thenwhen I got into bed I was sorry. It seemed a mean sort of thing to do. Imade up my mind I'd go down first thing in the morning and tear up thestory. But I'm such a sleepy-head in the mornings, and you know howearly Geraldine generally gets up. I was afraid she'd come down first,and probably rummage the stories out of Hilary's desk and read mine. Themore I thought about it the more ashamed I was of what I'd written. Icouldn't go to sleep. I felt I shouldn't be easy till it was burnt; soat last I got up, and lighted the candle, and went downstairs and didthe deed. That's how you saw me at Hilary's desk. By the by, Geraldinesaid she caught _you_ there before supper. What were _you_ doing?"

  "Putting pepper among her books to pay her out and make her sneeze,"confessed Diana.

  "Why, she did say her desk smelled somehow of pepper!" exclaimedLoveday. "We were all so excited, though, about the essay being missingthat we didn't take much notice of it. The whole affair's been a sort of'Comedy of Errors'."

  One substantial result remained from Diana's confinement to the attic,and that was the discovery of the door into the room beyond. Miss Toddexplored, and carried some of the dusty chairs out into the light ofday. She was enough of a connoisseur to see at a glance that they wereChippendale, and extremely valuable. She had the rest of the furnituremoved out and cleaned, then sent for a dealer in antiques to ask hisopinion about it. He said it made his mouth water.

  "A set of ten Chippendale singles with two armchairs will fetch almostanything you like nowadays," he added.

  "The question is, to whom do they legally belong?" said Miss Todd. "I'monly the tenant here. I must tell my landlord."

  The owner of the Abbey, who had bought the property many years beforefrom Mr. Seton, was a man with a fine sense of honour. Though, legally,the furniture in the forgotten attic might have been transferred to himwith the house, he did not consider himself morally entitled to it.

  "It certainly belongs to the heirs-at-law of the late Mr. Seton," hedeclared.

  There was only one heir, or rather heiress-at-law, and that was Loveday.It was decided, therefore, to sell the furniture for her benefit. Thecollection included objects of great rarity, among them a genuinespinet and a beautifully inlaid bureau. At the present boom for antiquesthey would realize a very substantial sum, quite a windfall, indeed, forLoveday.

  "Will it be enough to send me to a horticultural college?" she askedMiss Todd.

  "Ample, my dear. It ought to bring you sufficient for a thoroughly goodtraining in any career you want to take up."

  This was news indeed--so splendid that it seemed almost too good to betrue. Hilary's essay, which, as everybody expected, easily won theprize, had indirectly made Loveday's fortune after all.

  "I bless the day when I was a prisoner in the attic," rejoiced Diana."If I hadn't knocked that door in, the furniture might still have beenlying there in the dust."

  "I wonder if _this_ was the discovery that gentleman wanted to tellFather about," surmised Loveday.

  Surprise came on surprise, for the very morning after this happysolution of Loveday's future, Diana received a telegram from Paris. Mr.Hewlitt had succeeded in getting three passages (thrown up at the lastby a family who were taken ill with "flu" and unable to travel); he andMrs. Hewlitt were crossing the channel post-haste, and Diana must startfrom school and meet them in Liverpool. Loveday helped her to pack herboxes. It was an excited, fluttered, tearful little Diana who clung toher at the last.

  "Sissie! I can't say 'Good-bye!' It's not 'good-bye' to _you_--only 'aurevoir'."

  "We'll meet again some day, darling!"

  "We'll just jolly well have to, or I'll know the reason why! If youdon't come out to see us in America I shall come over here and fetchyou. Write very often, and let me know how the baby goes on, and if ithas been taken into the Home. I haven't quite finished its frock. Willyou do it? Oh, thanks! I'm leaving the Abbey in as big a hurry as I camehere. Dad always uses his 'lightning methods'. But I shan't forget anyof you, ever--not you, Wendy, or Jess, or Vi. Write to me, won't you? Asfor you, Loveday mine, I haven't words left. Let me give you one moregood hug! Yes, Miss Todd, I'm really coming. No, I don't want to miss mytrain. Good-bye, everybody and everything! Good-bye! Good-bye!"