The New Girl at St. Chad's: A Story of School Life

by Angela Brazil

  CHAPTER XV

  Sent to Coventry

  Though Honor had seen nobody, either in leaving or re-entering St.Chad's, her morning adventure had not been so entirely unobserved asshe imagined. Vivian Holmes, who was a light sleeper, had awakened bythe unfortunate creak that had been made by the stairs. Always mindfulof her duties as monitress, she had jumped up and cautiously opened herdoor, and was just in time to peep over the banisters and catch aglimpse of Honor's back disappearing down the hall. She hurriedlyreturned to put on her dressing-gown and bedroom slippers, thenfollowed as rapidly as she could. When she arrived downstairs, shefound the French window leading into the garden open; but Honor waswell round the corner, and running fast towards the cricket field.Vivian was very much disturbed and distressed. She scarcely knew whatshe ought to do. She ventured a little way into the grounds, but not atrace of any truant was to be seen, so she thought it useless to searchfar. One of the girls must have gone out; on that point she wasabsolutely certain.

  "I'm almost positive it was Honor Fitzgerald," she said to herself. "Itlooked exactly like her, although I only saw her back for a moment."

  Vivian was extremely conscientious, and felt personally responsible forall under her charge at St. Chad's. She was apt to err on the side ofseverity, but she honestly strove to do her duty, and to see that therules were duly kept. In this case, however, she was in a difficulty.There was no rule to prevent a girl getting up early and going into thegarden, because it had never occurred to Miss Maitland that anyonewould wish to rise before the usual dressing-bell. Vivian knew thatHonor had been accustomed to much liberty in her Irish home, and thatshe greatly chafed against the constraints of school life. What wasmore probable than that, waking at dawn, she had longed for a breath ofthe cool morning air, and was taking a stroll round the grounds?

  "She may have a headache, or have slept badly," thought the monitress,with an endeavour to be charitable. "These hot nights are very trying,even with both one's bedroom windows wide open."

  After all, it was not a very desperate offence, and there seemed noneed to report it to Miss Maitland. Vivian determined to listen forHonor's footsteps and catch her on the stairs as she came back, or, atany rate, to tax her with the affair later during the day, and pointout that in future such early rambles could not be allowed. In themeantime, she went back to bed, and, in spite of her resolution tointercept the returning wanderer, fell asleep again, and heard nothinguntil the bell rang at a quarter to seven. In the busy whirl ofoccupations that followed, there was no opportunity for any privateconversation with Honor, either before or after morning school; andimmediately dinner was over, all the Chaddites rushed off to watch acroquet tournament between mistresses and monitresses, in which Vivianherself was taking part. The day, therefore, passed exactly as usual,and it was not until after tea, when the girls were just going topreparation, that anything particular occurred.

  At precisely half-past four o'clock Janie Henderson chanced to bewalking down the passage when she saw the door of Miss Maitland's studysuddenly open, and Vivian Holmes come out, looking so greatly agitatedand upset that Janie stopped in amazement.

  "Why, what's the matter?" she exclaimed, for she was on sufficientlyfriendly terms with the monitress to venture the enquiry.

  "A great deal's the matter!" replied Vivian. "The worst thing that hasever happened at St. Chad's, or in the whole College. I'd give all Ipossess in the world to have nothing to do with it! I wish I weren'tmonitress! Where's Honor Fitzgerald? I have to find her."

  "She's practising," said Janie. "Shall I fetch her?"

  "Look here!" returned Vivian. "Honor sleeps in your room; did you hearher get up very early this morning and go out?"

  Janie's tell-tale face betrayed her at once, though she would not haveattempted to deny the fact, in any case.

  "Then I'm sorry, but you'll have to come to Miss Maitland too," saidVivian. "It's a hateful business altogether, and after our splendidrecord at St. Chad's, and the way we have all tried so hard to keep upthe standard, it hurts me more than I can tell you. I can't bear to getHonor Fitzgerald into trouble! I simply couldn't have believed it ofher, though I'm afraid it's only too plain. She's been very naughtysometimes, but she always seemed extremely straightforward, and I neverdreamt she could be capable of an affair like this. We shall have totell the exact truth, Janie; there's nothing else for it, and she mustclear herself as best she can. I'm afraid she's bound to be expelled.It's a terrible disgrace to the house. Yes, go and fetch her now; thesooner we get it over the better."

  Janie walked down the passage in the utmost perplexity. She could notaccount for Vivian's excited diatribe. What had Honor done to bringdisgrace upon St. Chad's? It was, of course, a very irregular thing torun away at daybreak to meet her brother, but it was no worse than manyof her other scrapes, and did not seem an offence of sufficient gravityto warrant such an extreme measure as expulsion from the school.

  "Vivian is always hard on Honor," thought Janie. "Perhaps, after all,she's making an unnecessary fuss, and it won't turn out to be sodreadful as she says. Tell the truth! Of course I shall do so; Vivianneedn't remind me of that!"

  Janie called her friend as quietly as possible from the piano. Therewere several other girls in the room, and she did not wish them to knowanything about the affair. She only whispered therefore that Honor waswanted in Miss Maitland's study at once, and did not add anyexplanation, thinking it better not to mention Vivian's remarks, as shehad not understood them herself. Honor put her music away calmlyenough, and closed the piano. She knew that the summons must havereference to her morning adventure, and anticipated a scolding; but itwas not the first she had received at St. Chad's, and she thought thepunishment would probably not exceed two hundred lines, or, perhaps, afew pages of poetry to be learnt by heart.

  The two girls hurried to the study, and, after knocking at the door,entered in response to Miss Maitland's "Come in". The house-mistresswas seated at her writing-table, talking to Vivian, and turned round attheir approach. She looked worried, and had a sterner expression on herface than they had ever seen there before.

  "Honor Fitzgerald," she began, "I have sent for you because a veryunpleasant thing has occurred, which I hope you may be able to explainto me. Last evening I was sitting writing at this table, and laid asovereign down just at this corner. I was called away, and left theroom for about ten minutes, or a quarter of an hour. When I returned, Ifound to my astonishment that the money was gone. I searchedeverywhere, and it had certainly not fallen on to the floor, nor was itamongst my papers; so I can only conclude that someone must have comein and taken it. I have made careful enquiries as to who was seen nearmy study last night, and I hear that you climbed up the lime tree andentered the room by the window shortly before nine o'clock. Is thatso?"

  "Yes, Miss Maitland," replied Honor, without any hesitation. "I didcome in, but I only stayed a minute. I didn't go near the table, and Ididn't see the sovereign. If I had, I certainly shouldn't have touchedit."

  Miss Maitland sighed.

  "I was afraid you would say that, Honor! My dear child, it would bebetter to tell me the truth, and confess at once. We have the clearestproof that you, and only you, must have taken it, so it is no usedenying it any more."

  "I should like to know what proof you mean, Miss Maitland?" said Honor,in a strained voice.

  "This letter," replied the mistress, producing Dermot's note. "It wasfound on your bedroom floor this morning by the upper housemaid, whobrought it at once to me. It was given you, I find, by one of the underservants, who much regrets now that she was persuaded to deliver itsecretly. It shows me, of course, your motive for taking the money."

  "But I did not take it!" said Honor. "I said before that I didn't seeit, and I mean it."

  For answer Miss Maitland turned to Janie.

  "Janie Henderson, did Honor Fitzgerald leave her bedroom before fiveo'clock this morning?"

  Poor Janie whispered, "Yes", though the word almost choked her. Thats
he, of all people, must be a witness against her friend seemed toocruel to be endured.

  "Did Honor mention to you where she was going?"

  "To the bathing cove."

  "And her errand?"

  "To meet her brother."

  "Did she say that she meant to take him the money he needed?"

  "I believe--yes--I remember she did," stammered Janie, almostbewildered by this cross-questioning.

  "Did she seem to you in any way conscious that she was doing wrong?"

  Janie paused. She recalled only too plainly Honor's words: "I'm sorryif it isn't all on the square, but Dermot was in a very tight place,and I felt bound to help him, even if I had to do something ratherwrong".

  "I am waiting for your answer, Janie."

  "I--I--think she seemed--sorry!"

  "Did she mention to you where the money came from that she was takingto her brother?"

  "No, she said nothing about it."

  "That will do for the present, Janie. Now, Vivian, I wish you to tellme if you saw Honor Fitzgerald go along the hall early this morning?"

  "It looked like Honor; I could be nearly certain," faltered Vivian,rather hesitatingly.

  "It was, so you needn't mind saying so!" interrupted Honor, who hadbeen listening attentively to this evidence. "I admit that I went out,and ran down to the beach, and met Dermot. I never wanted to deny that.But I certainly didn't even see the sovereign, much less take it."

  "Let us have the truth, Honor," urged Miss Maitland. "I believe thatyou yielded to a sudden temptation, and I am very sorry for you, sinceI think you did it entirely for your brother's sake. If you willconfess now, I will promise to deal leniently with you."

  "I can't confess what I haven't done," said Honor. She had turned verywhite, but she did not flinch in the least.

  "Nevertheless, you handed money to your brother on the shore?"

  "Yes. I gave him a sovereign, but it was my own, and not yours."

  "Honor! Honor! It is no use holding to such a palpably false story.Where could you get a sovereign? You banked your pocket-money with meat the beginning of the term, like the rest of the girls; it was only asmall amount, and you have spent it weekly."

  "I had a sovereign, all the same," answered Honor. "It was a QueenVictoria's Jubilee one, with a hole in it, which my uncle had given me.I wore it as a locket, and kept it inside my green work-box. Last nightI took it off the chain. That was the piece of money I gave to Dermot."

  "Did Honor ever show you this locket?" asked Miss Maitland, turning toJanie.

  The latter shook her head sadly. How she wished that she could havereplied in the affirmative!

  "Then the only way in which your words can be proved, Honor, is totrace your sovereign. Possibly your brother has not parted with it; orwe could find the man to whom he paid it. A Jubilee gold coin with ahole in it is so uncommon that it could easily be identified. I ampersonally acquainted with Dr. Winterton, so there will be nodifficulty in calling and asking his co-operation in the matter."

  "Oh, don't ask Dr. Winterton--please don't!" implored Honor in muchagitation. "I'd rather leave things as they are than that!"

  Terrible as was the indictment against her, she felt she would notclear herself at her brother's expense. To allow Miss Maitland to callat Orley Grange would expose Dermot's peccadillo to his headmaster, andinvolve him in as serious a trouble as her own. If one or other must beexpelled, she would rather it were herself. She, of the two, had lessto fear from her father's anger; and, besides, there was a furtherreason. Dermot was destined for the Navy, and was very shortly to takethe entrance examination for a cadetship; were he expelled from histraining school, he would be prohibited from competing, and by anotheryear he would be above the required age, and therefore no longereligible as a candidate. To put any hindrance in the way of his successmight ruin his whole future career. At all costs she must shield him,come what might.

  "Then you wish me not to pursue the enquiry, Honor?" continued MissMaitland. "Remember, it is the only way of clearing up this mostunfortunate affair."

  "I can't help it! The sovereign mustn't be traced. It was my own, allthe same. Indeed I am telling the truth!" blurted out Honor, in greatdistress.

  "I am sorry I cannot believe you," returned Miss Maitland coldly. "Ithought better of you than this. You have given much trouble duringyour term here, but I considered you at least to be strictlyhonourable. I am most bitterly disappointed, and even now I will offeryou a last chance. I perhaps took you by surprise, and you were notprepared to acknowledge what you had done. I will let you think thematter over until to-morrow morning. If you come to me then, beforechapel, and confess the truth, I will forgive you; but if you stillpersist in denying it, I shall be forced, though sorely against mywill, to take sterner measures. For the credit of our house and of ourschool, we cannot allow such things to happen at St. Chad's."

  "I have told you the truth now, Miss Maitland," answered Honor, with acertain dignity in her manner. "I can only say the same to-morrow andevery day. I don't know who has taken your money. I may do naughtythings sometimes (indeed, I often do), but if you knew us Fitzgeraldsat home I think you would scarcely have accused me of this."

  Honor walked into preparation outwardly calm, but inwardly she nursed aburning volcano. She had great pride of race, and had often gloried inthe honourable name which she bore. That a Fitzgerald should besuspected of so despicable a crime as stealing a sovereign seemedlittle short of an affront to her whole family. It was a blot on theirgood repute such as had never been placed there before. In days gone byher ancestors had fought duels for far less insults; now, however, shewas obliged to submit to that horrible charge without making anyattempt to defend herself. The one means of proving her innocence wasclosed to her. For Dermot's sake she must endure to be thought a thief!Yes, a thief! She repeated the word under her breath, and the verysound of it seemed to sting her. A Fitzgerald a thief! Oh, it wasimpossible to bear the reproach! Surely even Dermot's future could notcompel her to such a sacrifice? Yes, it must and should. She knew itwas the dream of his life to become a Naval cadet, and that her fatherand mother also cherished hopes for their youngest son's success. Sheseemed, like the Argonauts of yore, "'twixt Scylla and Charybdis".Which was the worse she could hardly decide, for Dermot to miss hisexamination, or for herself to be sent home under the slur of such afalse accusation. Both seemed equally bad, but she reasoned that theformer would involve more disastrous consequences, and, therefore, wasthe greater evil of the two.

  She sat with her French grammar before her, mechanically looking at thepages; but her thoughts were so busy that she did not take in a singleword of what she was reading, and would scarcely have known, if asked,whether she was studying French or geometry. What must she do? Someanswer must be given to Miss Maitland to-morrow morning, and only onewas possible. At all costs she would persist in her determination notto allow the affair to be mentioned to Dr. Winterton.

  Janie, meanwhile, was in a hardly less disturbed state of mind. Neverfor a moment was her faith in her friend shaken. The mass of evidencewas certainly strong, but it did not convince her. She knew Honor toowell for that, and would have taken her word against all the world.Though she could not understand the particular reason for screeningDermot at such an enormous cost, she appreciated the fact that Honorwas prepared to brave anything sooner than allow enquiries to be madeat Orley Grange.

  "It's that that looks so bad," thought Janie. "Of course, Miss Maitlandthinks she made up the tale about her own sovereign, as she seems soafraid of having to produce the proof. Oh, dear, what a terrible tangleit all is! I wish that Honor had trusted me more at the very beginning,when she first received the letter. She didn't even want to let me knowshe was stealing out to meet her brother, only I happened to wake. Iwas so taken by surprise I didn't say half what I should have liked! IfI could have persuaded her last night to go and tell Miss Maitland, shecouldn't have been suspected. It's too late now, unfortunately, and Ican't imagine how the affair
will end."

  Vain regrets were futile, so Janie with an effort concentrated her mindupon her lessons, and the two hours of study dragged slowly to a close.The evening was wet, and it was impossible to go into the garden,therefore all filed into the recreation room, with the sole exceptionof Honor, who lingered behind, putting away her books. Ill tidings flyapace, and within two minutes of the close of preparation every girl inthe house had heard that Honor Fitzgerald had taken a sovereign fromMiss Maitland's room, and refused to "own up". The news made thegreatest sensation. Such a thing had not occurred before in the annalsof the College. It seemed a stain on St. Chad's that could never bewiped out, and for which no amount of tennis shields, champion cups, orother triumphs would ever compensate. How could the Chaddites hold uptheir heads again? They, who had ranked in reputation next to theSchool House, would now sink to a lower level than St. Bride's! A hushfell over the whole community, as if some dreadful calamity had takenplace. The girls stood in little groups, whispering excitedly;consternation and dismay were on all faces, for the honour of the houseappeared a personal question to each. Maisie Talbot suddenly voiced theuniversal verdict.

  "Anyone who's capable of bringing this disgrace upon us deserves to besent to Coventry, and cut dead!" she announced, loudly enough to beheard by everybody.

  There was a common murmur of assent, which stopped instantly, however,for the object of their opprobrium walked into the room. As she enteredthe door, Honor became aware of the hostile feeling against her. Alleyes were turned in her direction, but there was recognition or welcomein none. It was a terrible thing to meet the cool stare of nearly fortycompanions, and feel herself thus pilloried for general contempt, yetnot for a moment did she flinch. White to the lips, but with her headheld up in silent self-justification, she moved slowly down the room,running the gauntlet of public disdain. Did I say all had abandonedher? No, there was one who remained faithful, one who was, not merely afair-weather friend, but ready to believe in her and stand by herthrough the severest ordeal. Janie, the shyest girl at St. Chad's, whonever as a rule raised her voice to venture an opinion or a criticismon any subject, came boldly to the rescue now. Stepping across toHonor, she took her firmly by the arm; then, almost as white andhaggard as her friend, she turned and faced the rest.

  "I think you will be very sorry for this afterwards," she began, in avoice that astonished even herself by its assurance. "It is not rightto convict anybody without a trial, and Honor has not yet been provedguilty. I'm absolutely certain she is innocent, and that in time she'llbe able to establish her good name. We've known her for a whole termnow at St. Chad's, and she has gained a reputation for being perfectlytruthful and 'square'. The charge against her is so entirely oppositeto her character that I wonder anyone can credit it."

  "Let her clear herself, then!" replied Maisie Talbot. "It ought to beeasy enough, if she is really innocent. In the meantime, the honour ofSt. Chad's is being trailed through the dust!"

  Excited comments and indignant accord greeted these words. Allevidently were in agreement with Maisie, and determined to blackballHonor as a vindication of their zeal for the credit of their house. Thesupper-bell fortunately put an end to the unpleasant scene, and nobodywas surprised when Honor, instead of walking into the dining-hall withthe others, marched straight upstairs to her cubicle. Miss Maitlandnoticed her empty place at table, but made no remark. Perhaps, like thegirls, she felt her absence to be a relief.

  When Janie went to No. 8 at nine o'clock she found her friend alreadyin bed, and feigning sleep with such persistence that she evidently didnot wish to be disturbed. Always tactful and thoughtful, Janie drew thecurtain again without attempting any conversation. She knew thatHonor's heart must be too full for speech, and that the truest kindnesswas to leave her alone.