CHAPTER VI
The Lower Third
The Lower Third Form at Chessington College numbered seventeen pupils,eight of whom were members of St. Chad's. In addition to Honor, theseincluded Maisie and Lettice Talbot, Ruth Latimer, Pauline Reynolds,Janie Henderson, Effie Lawson, and Flossie Taylor. The teacher, MissFarrar, was rather a favourite with her class. Though she could welluphold her authority, and maintain the good discipline that wasuniversal in the school, she was not so strict as some of the othermistresses. She had a very pleasant, genial manner; she was a capitaltennis player, and no mean figure at hockey and cricket; she was aprominent supporter of the Debating Society and the Natural HistoryUnion; and was altogether so cheerful and brisk that "jolly" was theword generally applied to her. Honor liked Miss Farrar, and, accordingto her lights, really made a heroic effort in the direction of goodbehaviour. Her conduct was certainly immeasurably superior to what ithad been with her governesses at home, and yet, judged by Chessingtonstandards, it was frequently irregular and unorthodox. With her bestendeavours, she could not grasp the fact that education is a verysolemn affair, and a school-room about the last place in the worldwhere one should try to be funny. She never seemed able to beabsolutely serious, and at the least opportunity her Celtic humourwould flash out, and not only upset the gravity of the class, butsometimes even cause Miss Farrar to have a difficulty in keeping hercountenance.
She was a slightly disturbing element in the Form. When it was her turnto answer there would be an air of general expectancy in the room; thedidactic language of the textbooks was often paraphrased by her lipsinto something of a more racy description, and even her mistakes wereas delicious as her quaint methods of stating facts. Miss Farraroccasionally suspected her of intentionally giving wrong replies, forthe sheer satisfaction of causing amusement; but it was difficult toprove the charge, since, however ludicrous her statements might be, shenever under any circumstances laughed at them herself, and all thewhile her large, grey Irish eyes would be fixed upon her teacher withthe innocence of a baby.
Thanks to Janie Henderson's assiduity, Honor conformed tolerably wellto the ordinary rules. Mindful of Miss Maitland's charge, Janieconsidered herself responsible for Honor, and was continually ready tojog her memory about what exercises must be written, what lessonslearnt, and what books brought to class, all of which were details thather friend would not have troubled about on her own account; but inspite of her exertions the poor girl often saw her protegee in trouble.
"The worst of it is," she admitted to herself, "that one never knowswhat to expect. Honor is a darling, but she does such peculiar andextraordinary things, she almost takes one's breath away. If I could beprepared for them beforehand, and warn her, it might be of some use;but I can't, so she's bound to get into scrapes."
Undoubtedly, very unprecedented happenings took place in the LowerThird--happenings such as had never occurred before Honor's advent. Whobut she would have thought of tilting two books together and emptyingthe inkpot on the top of them, when asked to describe a watershed? Yetshe looked genuinely astonished when the vials of Miss Farrar's wrathdescended upon her, and said almost reproachfully that she was onlytrying to give a practical illustration.
One day she smuggled Pete, the kitten from St. Chad's, into class, andshut him inside her desk, where he settled down quite comfortably, andslept peacefully through the French lesson. But in the middle ofalgebra, Honor, who hated mathematics, managed to give him asurreptitious pinch, with the result that a long-drawn, impatient,objecting "miau" suddenly resounded through the room. Miss Farrar gavequite a jump, and looked round, but could see nothing. Honor sat boltupright, with arms folded and eyes fixed attentively on the blackboard,as if she were sublimely unconscious of any noise in her vicinity.
"What can it be? It sounds like a cat," said Miss Farrar, peering abouton the floor, and even peeping into the cupboard where the chalk andthe new books were kept.
The girls jumped up, and pretended to look under their desks. Most ofthem had an inkling of the situation, but they were human enough toenjoy an interruption in the midst of difficult equations.
"Perhaps it's a mouse in the wainscot that's not feeling quite wellthis morning," suggested Honor, though it would have needed an absolutegiant of a mouse to give vent to the unearthly yowl in which Pete hadindulged. She said it, however, rather too innocently on this occasion.Miss Farrar was not dull, and had suspected from the beginning who wasat the bottom of the mischief; indeed, it was easy enough by this timeto trace the noise to the right spot, for the kitten had begun toscratch, and lifted up its voice in a series of emphatic wails,evidently protesting vigorously against solitary confinement.
Miss Farrar walked straight to Honor's desk and opened it, when outjumped Pete, purring with satisfaction, and arching his back as if inexpectation of petting. The teacher seized him by the scruff of theneck and gave him to Janie Henderson, at the same time quelling theunseemly mirth of her class with a withering glance.
THE LIBERATION OF PETE]
"Carry this kitten back at once to St. Chad's," she commanded. "HonorFitzgerald, you will learn two pages of Greek chronology, and repeatthem to me before school to-morrow morning. Lettice Talbot, take aforfeit! Girls, I am astonished at you! Open your books instantly,every one of you! Gwen Roby, read out your answer to Example 37."
Though Honor was popular with most of the members of her Form, she wasnever on very good terms with Flossie Taylor. Flossie had a sharptongue, and liked to make sarcastic remarks; and though Honor wouldpromptly return the compliment, and often "squash" the othercompletely, continual bickering did not promote harmony between thepair. Flossie was occasionally capable of certain dishonourable acts,which always drew upon her Honor's utmost indignation and scorn. Thelatter could not tolerate cheating or copying, and spoke her mindfreely on the subject.
"Well, I'm sure I'm not nearly as bad as you!" Flossie retorted once."You do the most outrageous things. I never mixed the French andhistory exercises, nor dipped the chalk into the red ink!"
"It's worse to crib someone else's work," protested Honor, "becausethat's sneaky and underhand. What would Miss Farrar say if she knew youwrote dates on a slip of paper and put it inside your dictionary, andthen copied them when you pretended you were only looking how to spella word?"
"Miss Farrar won't find out, and what the eye doesn't see the heartdoesn't grieve for!"
"But it's so mean!"
"You turning Mentor!" sneered Flossie. "Really! I wonder what we mayexpect next? Come, girls, and hear our most righteous andwell-conducted Paddy preach a homily on 'How to be the pattern pupil'!"
"Paddy is quite right," declared Maisie Talbot, taking up the cudgelsfor once on Honor's behalf. "There's a difference between her way ofbreaking rules and yours. She mayn't be exactly a shining example tothe class, but, at any rate, she's always square and above-board, andthat's more than I can say for you!"
"We're none of us saints," added Lettice, "but we've never gone in forcribbing at Chessington. No other girl in the Form ever does it."
It was not only as regards the question of fairness in her work thatFlossie failed to reach the standard of honour current in the LowerThird. She had many little meannesses, so small in themselves as to behardly worthy of notice, yet enough in the aggregate to exhibit hercharacter unfavourably.
One morning, just as the girls were going to their desks, Maisie Talbotsuddenly remembered that it was Miss Farrar's birthday.
"We ought to say something about it," she whispered to Lettice. "I wishwe had thought of it before, and bought her some flowers. How stupid wewere to forget!"
"Are you sure it's her birthday? How do you know?" asked Flossie, whowas standing near, and overheard.
"I'm absolutely certain. I have her name in my birthday book," repliedMaisie.
Flossie said no more just then, but the moment Miss Farrar came intothe room she stood up and wished her "Many happy returns", in the nameof the whole Form, before either Maisie or Let
tice had the opportunityto say a word.
They were most annoyed to be thus forestalled.
"It was our idea," protested Lettice afterwards. "You didn't even knowit was Miss Farrar's birthday before we mentioned it."
"And yet you calmly took all the credit, and made yourself themouthpiece of the class!" exclaimed the equally indignant Maisie.
"I suppose I had as good a right as anybody else to offercongratulations," laughed Flossie. "You should have brought yours out alittle quicker."
Flossie might be appreciated by her cousins, the Hammond-Smiths, andtheir particular friends, the Lawsons and the Palmers, but she wascertainly not a favourite in her own Form. Nearly everybody had asquabble with her upon some pretext. Even Janie Henderson, whoseretiring disposition involved her in few disputes with herschoolfellows, found a cause for complaint. It was one of the ordinaryregulations that the girls should each take the office of warden for aweek in turn, the duties being to give out any necessary books, cleanthe blackboard, distribute fresh pens and blotting-paper, and collectany articles that might be left in the room after lesson hours. Bygeneral custom all pencils, india-rubbers, or other stray possessionswere put into what was known as the forfeit tray, whence their ownersmight reclaim them by paying the penalty of the loss of an order mark.Each girl had her pencil-box, in which she was expected to keep her ownproperty; but many things were usually left lying about, and the wardenalways made a careful search at one o'clock.
The most cherished object in Janie's desk was a little, pearl-handledpenknife, which she greatly valued. She guarded it zealously, lendingit as seldom as she could, and taking good care that it was alwaysreturned to her immediately. One unfortunate day, however, she had beensharpening her pencil at the close of the arithmetic lesson, and in thepreoccupation of correcting her answers she laid her treasure down, andforgot all about it. She remembered it after dinner, and ran back tothe schoolroom to rescue it, but it was nowhere to be found.
"It must have been put in the forfeit tray," she said to herself. "Ishall get it to-morrow, though it will cost me an order mark, worseluck!"
She looked eagerly next morning when Miss Farrar produced the tray, buther penknife was not among the lost property. She made a few enquiriesin the class, but nobody professed to have seen it, and she was obligedto abandon it as hopelessly gone.
It must have been quite a week after this that one evening, when theSt. Chad's girls were sitting in the recreation room, Flossie pulledher handkerchief from her pocket, and in so doing whisked out apearl-handled penknife. She stooped in a hurry to recover it, but ithad fallen under a little table, close to where Pauline Reynolds wassitting, and the latter picked it up instead.
"Hello! This is Janie Henderson's knife," exclaimed Pauline. "Lookhere, Janie! Isn't this the one you lost?"
"Of course it is," affirmed Janie. "I can tell it by the small blade.There's a tiny piece broken off at the end."
"Where did you get it, Flossie?" enquired
"I found it when I was warden," replied Flossie. "How should I know itwas Janie's?"
"You might have asked whose it was," said Maisie. "You've no right topocket things when you're warden!"
"I wrote a 'Found' notice about it," declared Flossie.
"I never saw any notice," put in Janie.
"Where did you pin this wonderful paper?" asked Pauline.
"On the dressing-room door."
"Where nobody would ever dream of looking!" returned Maisie. "Whycouldn't you put the knife on the forfeit tray?"
"I really don't know! What's the use of making such an absurd fussabout trifles?" said Flossie, linking her arm in Norah Palmer's, andturning away.
"I call them principles, not trifles," murmured Maisie; "it's just onthe same lines as the cribbing, not quite open and square. I wishFlossie had stayed at St. Bride's; I certainly don't consider her acredit to St. Chad's."
The quarrels between Honor and Flossie occasionally rose to the levelof a miniature war. The latter never lost any opportunity of flingingridicule and contempt on all things Irish, and Honor, who resented aslur on her native land more than a personal injury, could not keep herhot temper within bounds. It was, of course, very foolish to take anynotice of Flossie's taunts, and so her friends reminded her.
"The more you blaze up, the more she'll tease, of course," said Maisie.
"Why can't you keep calm, and pretend you don't hear her?" saidPauline. "She doesn't try it on with us."
"You're such a set of stolid Anglo-Saxons!" declared Honor. "You neverget roused about anything."
"It's bad form, my dear girl! Hysterics are out of fashion. We don't goin for them at Chessington."
"But you really are entertaining when you're aggressively Celtic,Paddy!" said Lettice. "I own I can't resist taking a rise out of youmyself sometimes, just for the fun of seeing you explode."
"You ought to have been born Red Indians!" retorted Honor. "I likepeople with a little fire. What's the good of having feelings, if one'snot to show them?"
"You show them so hard," laughed Lettice, "you make yourself quiteridiculous! I'm sure I shouldn't think one of Flossie's silly jokes wasworth making any fuss about."
This was very excellent and practical schoolgirl wisdom, butunfortunately Lettice preached a philosophy of stoicism to which Honorhad not yet attained. At the least provocation her fiery Irish bloodalways asserted itself, and she would flare up, albeit she wasconscious that, by so doing, she was affording her enemy the keenestsatisfaction, and was providing amusement for the other girls, whoenjoyed "hearing Paddy break out".
One morning the feud came to a crisis. When Honor opened her desk shefound inside a neat little collection of new potatoes, and on the top,pinned to the biggest, a paper in Flossie's handwriting, bearing theselines:
HONOR'S WISH
Oh, Erin, moist Erin, how damp are thy showers! I would I were back 'mid thy pigs and thy rills! The "tater" to me is more dear than thy flowers, And I relish the rain on thy ever-wet hills.
Honor could not help laughing at this, in spite of the aspersion on theclimate of her country. Such a quip, however, could not go unrequited,and she sought for means of retaliation. She decided that Flossiedeserved a "booby trap", and fled back early to the classroom afterlunch, to set it for her. It was a rather difficult and delicateoperation, for she did not wish to catch anybody else by mistake. Shebalanced a big dictionary so that it rested on the top of the door andthe lintel of the doorway; then, stationing herself inside the room,she held the handle firmly, lest someone should disturb her arrangementby flinging back the door, which was just sufficiently wide open toallow a single person to enter. She peeped every now and then into thepassage, on the look-out for Flossie, and admitted each returning girlwith caution and due warning.
"Here she is at last!" whispered Lettice, who was naughty enough toenjoy practical jokes, and, after admiring the preparations, hadoffered to act scout.
"Is she really coming in next?"
"Yes; she's walking in front of May Thurston and Dorothea Chambers."
"Are you certain?"
"Absolutely."
"Then tell me when!"
"Now!"
Honor pulled open the door, and down crashed the dictionary, tumblingfull on the head, not of Flossie Taylor, but (oh! horrible miscarriageof justice!) of Miss Farrar herself. At exactly the wrong moment theteacher had popped out of the next classroom, and, as Flossie had stoodpolitely aside to give her precedence, she had walked straight into thetrap destined for her pupil.
The dictionary was heavy, and in its fall its sharp corner caught MissFarrar on the cheek. She stopped, almost dazed by the sudden blow, and,pressing her handkerchief to her face, drew it back marked with a redstain. At the sight of the blood Honor uttered a shriek, and, rushingfrom the room, fled down the passage, as if to escape from the horrorof what she had done. In almost a state of panic she ran across thequadrangle, and, turning into the garden, sought refuge inside thetool-shed.
Here she was found some time afterwards by Janie, who hadbeen sent to look for her, and had vainly searched St. Chad's and everyother likely spot of which she could think.
Honor never did things by halves; if she wept, she wept, and at presentshe was a perfect Niobe, almost drowned in tears. When she saw Janieshe gave her streaming eyes a hasty mop with a very wetpocket-handkerchief.
"Have I killed her?" she asked, in a tragic whisper.
"Of course not!" replied Janie. "It was only a small cut on the cheek.It's all right now it has been bathed with cold water."
"I was afraid they'd bring it in murder," groaned Honor. "Oh, the illluck of it, that it should have been Miss Farrar! And the dictionarycame down with such a frightful bang! I can never look her in the faceagain."
"You'll have to!" said Janie. "I was sent to fetch you back at once.You needn't be afraid, Miss Farrar has taken it so nicely."
Poor Honor's apologies and the depths of her genuine remorse would havemelted the hardest of hearts, much more that of her teacher.
"We'll say no more about it," declared Miss Farrar. "All the same,remember that I cannot allow such things to happen in the classroom.You might have hurt Flossie very seriously. No, my scratch is nothing!It will be healed directly. But if you are really sorry, Honor, youmust give me your most solemn promise that you will never play such adangerous practical joke again."
The New Girl at St. Chad's: A Story of School Life Page 6
