CHAPTER XVII
Janie turns Detective
Honor being safely in her father's charge, we must leave her there forthe present, and return to Chessington, to see what was happening inthe meantime at St. Chad's.
Janie's slumbers had been quiet and undisturbed until half-past six,when she woke with a start, feeling almost ashamed of herself for beingable to sleep when her friend was in trouble. She got up at once, andpeeped round the curtain into the other cubicle, only to discover, toolate, that the bird had flown. She looked on the dressing-table to seewhether a note might have been left, but to her disappointment therewas nothing. Honor had vanished mysteriously, leaving not the leastsign or clue behind her. Where had she gone? Janie could scarcelyventure a guess. Such a daring scheme as a return to Ireland did noteven suggest itself to her less enterprising mind. Perhaps, shethought, Honor might have set out to try to find the man Blake, and askhim to come and show the Jubilee sovereign to Miss Maitland; but thisseemed so at variance with her determination of last night that Janiecould hardly consider it probable. She wondered if it were her duty togo and tell Miss Maitland immediately, but came to the conclusion that,as the bell would ring in a few minutes, she might put off giving theinformation until she had dressed.
Her news naturally caused the greatest consternation at head-quarters.Steps were taken at once to institute a search for the runaway. MissCavendish communicated with the police, who, exactly as Honor hadanticipated, enquired at the railway station and the pier at Dunscar,in case she had taken the train or the steamer; and caused the highroads to be watched. It did not occur to anybody that she would haveventured on such an undertaking as to cross the moors, and she had theadvantage of several hours' start, so that, from her point of view, herplan was a success.
"You should have come to me instantly, Janie, when you made thediscovery that she was gone," said Miss Maitland reproachfully. "Wehave lost at least three-quarters of an hour through your delay."
Poor Janie burst into tears. It had been very hard to be obliged toreveal the fact of her room-mate's flight at all. She felt that,utterly against her will, she had the whole time been the principalwitness in Honor's disfavour, and that every word she had spoken hadhelped to confirm unjust suspicion. She would have made an attempt toplead her friend's cause if Miss Maitland had looked at allencouraging, but the mistress was anxious to waste no further time, anddismissed her summarily from the room.
Janie had taken the affair as much to heart as if the disgrace were herown. It seemed so particularly unfortunate that it should havehappened, because, since their talk at St. Kolgan's Abbey, she hadthought that Honor was making increased efforts, and that Miss Maitlandhad noticed and approved the change. Now all this advance appeared tobe swept away, and in the opinion of both teachers and girls her friendwas not fit to remain any longer on the roll of Chessington.
Although the Chaddites tried to keep their shame hushed up, the newsleaked out somehow, and very soon spread through the entire College,where it instantly became the one absorbing topic of conversation.Owing to her prowess at cricket, and her friendly, amusing ways, Honorhad won more notice than most new girls among her two hundredschoolfellows; but, in spite of her undoubted popularity, she wasuniversally judged to be guilty. The general argument was that themoney was missing, that somebody must have taken it, that Honor wasknown to have needed it desperately, and that her action in runningaway showed above everything that she dared not stay to have the matterinvestigated.
Janie thought that no day had ever been so long. The hours seemedabsolutely interminable. Her lessons had been badly prepared the nightbefore, and won for her a reproof from Miss Farrar; and her thoughtswere so constantly occupied with wondering where Honor had fled thatshe could scarcely attend to the work in class, and often answered atrandom. Her head was aching badly, and her eyes were sore with crying,neither of which was conducive to good memory, or lucid explanations;so she was not surprised to find at the end of the morning that herrecord was the worst she had had during the whole term.
The afternoon was cool after the rain of the previous evening, andgames were once more in full swing. Dearly as she would have liked toshirk her part in them, Janie was not allowed to absent herself; butshe played so badly that she drew Miss Young's scorn on her head, tosay nothing of the wrath of the Chaddites.
"You missed two catches--simply dropped them straight out of yourhands! You're an absolute butter-fingers!" exclaimed Chatty Burnsindignantly.
Janie was too crushed by utter misery to mind this extra straw. Sheretired thankfully to the pavilion as soon as she was allowed, feelingthat missed catches or schoolmates' scoldings were of small importancein the present state of general misfortune.
"If I could only find out who took the sovereign!" she thought. "Honorcertainly did not, so somebody else must have. Who? That's thequestion. I wish I were an amateur detective, like the clever peopleone reads about in magazines. They just get a clue, and find it all outso easily, while the police are on quite a wrong tack. The chief thingseems to be to make a beginning, and I don't know in the least where tostart."
Neither tea nor preparation brought her any nearer to solving thedifficulty. After supper she went into the garden, taking herwork-basket and crochet with her. She was in the lowest of spirits, andblinked away some surreptitious tears. Weeping was not fashionable atSt. Chad's, being classed as "Early Victorian", and she wished to hideher red eyes from the other girls; for this reason she hurried down thelong gravel path behind the rows of peas and beans, and found a snugplace by the tomato house, where there was a convenient wheelbarrow tosit upon. She had not been there more than five minutes when, to hersurprise, she was joined by Lettice Talbot.
"I've been hunting for you everywhere, Janie!" announced Lettice. "Ishouldn't have found you now, only I caught a glimpse of your pink hairribbon through a vista of pea-sticks. Is there room for two on thisbarrow? Thanks; I'll sit down then. Look here! I want to tell you howglad I am that you stuck up for Honor last night. I know Maisie and allthe rest think she took that wretched sovereign, but I declare I don't.Poor old Paddy! I'm certain she never could; I would as soon have doneit myself."
"I'm so thankful to hear you say this," exclaimed Janie. "I was afraidI was the only one who believed in her."
"A few of our set are beginning to come round; Ruth Latimer iscertainly wavering, and so is Pauline Reynolds. But naturally they allsay: 'If Honor didn't take it, who did?'"
"That's exactly what I should like to find out," sighed Janie.
"Miss Maitland is absolutely certain that she left it on her table, andthat it was gone when she came back within a quarter of an hour; also,that it hadn't fallen down anywhere in the room," said Lettice, withthe air of a judge weighing evidence. "Where is it, then?"
"I've thought and thought," replied Janie, puckering up her forehead,"but I can't get any nearer. If we could prove, now, that someone elsehad been in Miss Maitland's room, it might quite alter the case."
"Why, what an idiot I am!" exclaimed Lettice, suddenly bouncing up fromthe wheelbarrow.
"What's the matter?"
"It's only just occurred to me! I suppose a really clever person wouldhave thought of it at once. I'm afraid my brains don't work very fast.Oh, what a jubilee!"
"Lettice Talbot! Have you gone mad?"
"Not quite, but a little in that direction."
"Do explain yourself!"
"Well, you recollect when Honor climbed up to the window? We all wentinto the house afterwards, and then I ran back to fetch Maisie'swork-basket. I saw a girl climb down the lime tree, and run away intothe bushes."
"Are you sure?"
"I could not be mistaken."
"Then this is most extremely important."
"I know it is. I can't imagine how I never remembered it before. Theymay well call me 'Scatterbrains' at home! I certainly shouldn't havedone for a barrister, if I'd been a boy."
"Could you tell who it was?"
"No, I w
asn't near enough. I only saw her for a moment. If I had caughta glimpse of her face, it might have been of some use; but everybodywears the same kind of blue skirt and white blouse at Chessington, soit's quite impossible to recognize any particular girl when you seenothing but her back."
"Unless you could find somebody else who happened to have seen hertoo."
"No one else was there at the time."
"We must make enquiries," said Janie excitedly. "It really seems aclue. We won't leave a stone unturned, if we can help it."
"I should be very glad to get poor Paddy out of trouble," repliedLettice. "The slur on our house will be just the same, though,whichever Chaddite may be the culprit. It's only moving the disgracefrom one person to another."
"We must see that the blame is put on to the right pair of shoulders,though; it's not fair for Honor to bear it unjustly."
"Indeed it isn't. What would be the best way to begin?"
"We need a witness. I wonder if Johnson was about at the time, andnoticed anything?"
"A good idea! We'll go and find him. I believe I saw him just now,shutting up the greenhouse."
After a rather lengthy search, the girls at last discovered the oldgardener putting away his tools in the potting shed.
"Johnson, please, we want to ask you a question," began Janie. "Wereyou near St. Chad's at nine o'clock on the night before last; and didyou happen to see anyone climbing the lime tree that stands close tothe house?"
Johnson stroked his chin reflectively.
"It couldn't have been last night," he replied, after a few moments'consideration. "I was in Dunscar then. It must 'a been the night aforethat. Aye; I did see one of you young ladies go up that lime tree. Iremember it, because she climbed that smart you'd have thought she wasa boy. In at the window she gets, and I watches her and thinks it'swell to have young limbs. It's not much climbing you'll do when you'renigh sixty, and stiff in the joints with rheumatism besides!"
"What was she like?" enquired Janie eagerly.
"Had she long, dark hair?" added Lettice.
"Nay, it was fair hair. There was a light in the room, so as she comesback through the window I sees her as plain as I sees you now. I knowsher in a minute. It was the young lady as every Sunday morning pestersmy life out of me to cut her a rose for her buttonhole: Miss Taylor, Ithink she's called."
"Flossie!" exclaimed Janie. "I know she always begs for roses."
"Then it was Flossie!" said Lettice. "I had an uneasy feeling in theback of my mind all the time that it was she--it looked like herfigure. It seemed too bad to suspect her, though, when I had absolutelyno proof."
"There can be little doubt about it now."
"Shall we go straight to Miss Maitland, at once?"
"I don't know. I'm not sure if it wouldn't be better to ask Flossieherself about it. She may be able to explain it; and, at any rate, Ithink we ought to warn her before we say anything, and then we shan'tseem to have told tales behind her back."
"She doesn't deserve any consideration," grumbled Lettice.
Janie's conscience, however, required her to be scrupulously fair. Shecould not bear to take an advantage, even of one who must be shieldingherself at the expense of another.
"We'll give her a chance," she decided emphatically.
The next step evidently was to search for Flossie. She was not in thegarden, but after a diligent quest through the house they eventuallyfound her in her own cubicle, engaged in the meritorious occupation oftidying her drawers. It was an unpleasant task for the two girls tovoice their suspicions, but one that nevertheless had to be done.
Somewhat to their surprise, Flossie sat down on the edge of her bed,and burst out crying.
"Oh, I knew it would come! I knew it would!" she sobbed. "What am I todo? Oh, I've been so wretched all day! I believe I'm quite glad it hascome out at last."
"Flossie, did you take that sovereign?" asked Janie.
"Yes--no--at least--yes! Only, I didn't know I was taking it!" groanedFlossie, trying in vain to find her handkerchief, and mopping her eyesin desperation with a corner of the sheet instead.
"What do you mean?"
"I'll tell you. Oh, it's such a relief to tell somebody! Of course, Iwas there when Honor climbed up the lime tree, and after you had allrun indoors I thought it would be fun to see if I could go up too. Itwas quite easy, and I jumped through the window without any difficulty.There was nobody in the study, but the electric light was turned on. Iwalked over to the writing-table, and I remember noticing the sovereignlying at the corner, on the top of a pile of letters. There were everso many papers strewn about, and some of them were our house conductreports for the term, which Miss Maitland was evidently just beginningto fill in. I was so anxious to see if mine was there that I stretchedover and took some of them in my hand, to look at them. Then I thoughtI heard a step in the passage, and I didn't want to be caught, so Ipopped them quickly back, and went down the tree a good deal fasterthan I had gone up. I took off my blouse as usual that night, and putit away in my middle drawer, and next day I wore a clean one. Then thismorning, when I was dressing, I looked at the first blouse, to see ifit were really soiled and ready for the laundry. To my horror, outtumbled a sovereign on to the floor! I can only suppose it must haveslipped inside my turnover cuff, when I reached across the table; Icertainly hadn't the least idea it was there. I couldn't think what todo! I hoped I might be able to smuggle it back on to the table, andI've been watching all day, but there has never been the slightestopportunity to go into the study. I didn't dare to tell Miss Maitland,from fear she would think I'd taken it on purpose. She wouldn't believeHonor, so I thought she wouldn't believe me either. Oh! isn't it alldreadful?"
"It is indeed," said Janie; "especially as Honor has had to bear theblame. It isn't the first time she has acted scapegoat for you!"
"I know what you mean," sobbed Flossie. "Vivian thought it was she whoshammed ghost that night when I played a trick upon Evelyn Fletcher. Ididn't intend to get Honor into trouble. I was very sorry about it;still, what could I do?"
"Do! Why, you ought to have told Vivian at once. Any girl with a sparkof honour would have known that."
"You'd better make a clean breast of everything now," suggestedLettice.
"I daren't! I daren't!" cried Flossie, in an agony of alarm.
"I don't believe you need be afraid of Miss Maitland," said Janie."You've only taken the sovereign by accident. She would be far moreangry with you for not owning up."
"If you don't tell her, I shall go to her myself," threatened Lettice.
It was dreadfully difficult to screw Flossie's courage up to therequired point. She declared she could not and would not make thenecessary confession.
"I'll write to my mother to send for me to go home, and it can come outafter I'm gone," she declared.
Lettice lost her temper and indulged in hard words, which, so far fromaltering Flossie's decision, only made her more obstinately determined.Fortunately, Janie had greater patience.
"I'm sure you'll be brave enough to do it for Honor's sake," she said."You'll feel far happier and more comfortable when it's over. I knowit's hard, but it's right, and we shall all think so much better of youafterwards than if you shirked telling, and went home. You could hardlycome back again here if you did that. Be a true Chaddite, and rememberour house motto: 'Strive for the highest'. I'll go with you to MissMaitland, if you like."
In the end, Janie's counsel prevailed, and Flossie, very tearful andapprehensive, allowed herself to be led to the study, to return thesovereign and explain how it came into her possession. Miss Maitlandproved kindness itself. She was immensely relieved to find that thewhole affair was due to a mischance, and that none of her girls hadbeen capable of committing a dishonest act. It wiped a blot from St.Chad's, and restored the house to its former high standing.
"If we could only find Honor Fitzgerald," she declared, "my mind wouldbe at rest."
CHAPTER XVIII
The End of the Term
Major Fitzgerald's astonishment at meeting his runaway daughter onWesthaven Quay was great, but he was extremely thankful to find hersafe and sound. He had received a telegram from Chessington informinghim of her flight, and had started immediately for the College, comingfrom Cork to Westhaven by a night cargo vessel, as he thought that aquicker route than by the ordinary mail steamer from Dublin toHolyhead.
He at once took Honor to a hotel, where he engaged a privatesitting-room and ordered luncheon; then he set to work to demand anexplanation of what was still to him an absolute puzzle and mystery. Inspite of her determination to suppress all mention of Dermot'sembarrassments, Honor speedily found herself pouring out the whole ofher troubles into her father's ears. She was no dissembler, neverhaving been accustomed to concealment, and possessing naturally a veryopen character; so, with a few skilful questions, the Major easily drewfrom her the entire story.
She had prepared herself to expect a stern rebuke, but to her surpriseher father seemed far more pained than angry.
"I thought my children could have trusted me!" he said. "You will find,Honor, as you go through life, that no one has your interest at heartso truly as your own father. Perhaps I have erred on the side ofseverity, but it is no light responsibility to keep five high-spiritedlads under control, to say nothing of a madcap daughter. My fatherbrought me up on the rule of 'spare the rod, spoil the child', and Ithought modern methods produced a less worthy race, so I would stick tohis old-fashioned principle. I have taken far harder thrashings in myboyhood than I have ever bestowed on Master Dermot. All the same, Ibelieved you knew that, though I might sometimes appear harsh, I meantit for your good, and that I was the best friend you had in the world."
"You are, Daddy, you are!" cried Honor, clinging round his neck.
"Well, little woman, you must have more confidence in me another time,and come boldly and tell me your scrapes. I would rather forgive you agreat deal than feel that you kept anything back from me. You've been avery foolish girl, and have got yourself into sad trouble. Your motheris wild with anxiety about you."
"How is Mother? Is she still so ill?" quavered Honor.
"She was much better until yesterday, when we received Miss Cavendish'stelegram. Naturally, that upset her very much. I have wired to heralready, to say that you are safely here with me."
"Oh, Daddy, let us go home to Mother at once!"
"No, my dear!" said Major Fitzgerald decidedly. "I couldn't let youreturn to Kilmore with such an accusation resting against your name. Wemust face that, and get it cleared up. I shall have a talk with bothMiss Maitland and Miss Cavendish. Don't you see that by running awayyou are practically admitting yourself to be guilty? It was thesilliest thing to do! Come, don't cry! We'll get to the bottom of thematter somehow."
"But you won't tell Dr. Winterton?" implored Honor, whose tears weremore for her brother than for herself.
"I won't promise. It may be necessary to do so. You needn't fear Dermotwill miss his exam.; I should of course stipulate that he must take it.I don't believe, however, that he would be expelled. It is so near tothe end of the term, and if he secures a pass he will be leaving theGrange in any case, to join his training ship. The young rascal! Hecertainly deserves his thrashing. He's always up to some mischief!There, dry your eyes, child, I won't be too hard on him! In themeantime, we must think of getting back to Dunscar. We can just catchthe 2.40 train. The sooner we arrive at the College and ease MissCavendish's mind, the better. I must buy you a hat as we walk to thestation, and then perhaps you'll look more respectable."
It seemed to Honor as if an immense weight had been lifted from hermind. She began for the first time to understand her father, and torealize how much he thought of and cared for his children's welfare.The knowledge drew her nearer to him than she had ever been before. Hertroubles seemed over now that he had taken the responsibility of them;she wished she had trusted him sooner, and felt that he was indeed, ashe had said, her best and truest friend.
Miss Maitland was greatly relieved that afternoon when her missingpupil was restored to her, and congratulated herself that the mysteryhad been solved, and that she was able to give a full explanation toMajor Fitzgerald of what had occurred.
The latter listened with close attention to her account.
"Pray don't apologize for having accused Honor falsely," he said. "Ashouse-mistress, it was your plain duty to act as you did, and theevidence seemed overwhelming. I don't exonerate my little girlaltogether; she had no right to take the law into her own hands andmeet her brother in defiance of rules, and, still worse, to run awayfrom school; neither had she any business to climb through the windowinto your study. She deserves a thorough scolding, but I think she istruly sorry, and that the consequences of her foolishness have beenpunishment enough."
"We will say no more about it," replied Miss Maitland; "it is anunpleasant episode, which we shall be only too glad to consign tooblivion. Honor has shown us already that she is capable of betterthings, and I shall expect much from her in the future."
The runaway received a warm welcome from the Chaddites, who muchregretted their hasty action in condemning her without sufficientproof.
"I'm afraid I misjudged you before, Honor," said Vivian Holmes."Flossie has told me that it was she who shammed ghost. It's a pitythere have been so many misunderstandings, but I'm glad you weren'tresponsible for Evelyn's fright."
Vivian spoke kindly, but without enthusiasm. She was ready enough toacknowledge Honor's innocence, but she still did not altogether approveof her, and considered that there was much room for improvement beforeshe became a worthy member of St. Chad's. The monitress had no sympathywith lawlessness, and preferred girls who upheld the school rules,instead of breaking them. Undue exuberance of spirits during a firstterm was in her eyes presumption, and not to be countenanced by amonitress who did her duty.
She need not have been afraid, however, that the black sheep of herflock was going to indulge in any more lapses from the strict path ofconvention. Honor had returned in a very subdued frame of mind, andgave no further occasion for reproof.
She took the girls' apologies for sending her to Coventry in excellentpart.
"If you really believed I'd stolen the sovereign, you were quiteright," she remarked briefly. "Anyone who'd done such a thing wouldhave richly deserved that, and worse. I care quite as much as you allfor the honour of the house."
To Janie alone, the one friend who had taken her part and stood up forher when the whole school was against her, could Honor turn with asense of absolute confidence; the bond between them seemed closer thanever, and she felt she owed a debt of gratitude that it would bedifficult to repay. Janie's joy at this happy ending to what hadappeared a scholastic earthquake was extreme; and, though she gaveLettice the credit that was due, she could not help experiencing alittle satisfaction at her own share in elucidating the mystery. Shehad worked hard to clear her friend's name, so it was delightful toreap her reward.
The sensation caused by the events of the last few days was soonforgotten by the majority of the girls in the excitement of theexaminations. For the next week the whole College lived in a whirl ofperpetual effort to marshal scattered facts, or recall forgottenvocabularies. The classrooms, given over to pens, ink, and sheets offoolscap paper, were the abodes of a silence only disturbed by theoccasional scratching of a pen, or the sigh of a candidate in thethroes of attacking a stiff problem. To Honor the experience was allnew. She tried her best, but found it difficult to curtail herstatements sufficiently to allow of her answering every question, inspite of Miss Farrar's oft-repeated warning against devoting too muchtime to one part of the paper. She was, of course, at a greatdisadvantage, as she had spent only one term at Chessington, and theexaminations were on the work of a whole year; but she neverthelessacquitted herself creditably, and actually gained higher marks thanseveral girls who had come to school the preceding September.
"I feel as if I'd been in a battle!" she announced, when at length theordeal was over an
d the last set of papers handed in. "My fingers aresoaked with ink, for my fountain pen leaked atrociously; but it wroteso much quicker than an ordinary one that I didn't dare to abandon it."
"You'll soon get the ink off," said Lettice. "Miss Maitland always putsplenty of pieces of pumice stone and slices of lemon in thedressing-room at examination time. I'm sure I've failed in geometry,and I shall be very much surprised if I find I've scraped through inphysics."
"I feel just as doubtful over English language," said Chatty Burns."But it's no use worrying ourselves any more; we can't correct mistakesnow, whatever stupid ones we may have made."
"And we can just have a few peaceful days until the sports," addedLettice.
The end of the term was always celebrated by a gathering of parents andfriends, at which the girls gave exhibitions of their skill in running,jumping, or some of the physical exercises that they had learnt withMiss Young. This year the programme was to include military drill andflag signalling. The latter was a new departure in the school, but onethat everybody had taken up with enthusiasm. Little bands of the mostexpert performers had been selected, and these practised diligently inthe playing-fields, waving their messages with great accuracy anddispatch.
"It might come in useful if there were a war," said Lettice; "and, atany rate, it will be very convenient at home. I mean to teach somefriends who live at a house close by, and we shall be able to stand atour bedroom windows and talk with our flags."
"It will be fun out yachting," said Madge Summers. "We can signal anyvessel we pass, and ask her name, and where she is going, and all kindsof questions."
"I wish Miss Young would teach us heliography next term," said Honor."I should like flashing messages with looking-glasses."
"We'll ask her; but we shall have to wait nearly a year. We only havehockey in the winter term, with gymnasium work when it's wet. Are anyof your people coming over on Thursday?"
"I'm afraid not--it's such a long way from Kerry! My mother is stillill, and my father is busy."
"That's a pity!" said Lettice. "We all like our parents to turn up forthe sports. There's generally an absolute crowd."
As Lettice had indicated, a large number of visitors made theirappearance on breaking-up day. The quadrangle and playing-fields weregay with summer dresses and parasols, and everywhere girls might beseen conducting little parties of friends over the College buildings.
"The whole place seems topsy-turvy," remarked Honor. "You can go whereyou like, and actually speak in the laboratory without forfeits! Eventhe library is turned into a tea-room!"
"Yes, there are no rules this afternoon," replied Janie.
The sports were held in the cricket ground, and began punctually athalf-past four. Forms had been brought from the school, to make seatsfor the spectators and for those of the girls who were not taking partin the proceedings.
"I like a large audience," said Chatty Burns; "it's rather inspiring.Of course, it makes one nervous, but, at the same time, it puts one onone's mettle. I always do better when there are plenty of people towatch."
"Especially when one feels that one is working for the credit of one'sown house," said Ruth Latimer. "We all want to see the orange ribbon tothe fore to-day."
"I'm afraid we've very little chance of winning anything," groanedMadge Summers. "The Hilaryites are almost sure of the long jump. MonaRichards beats the record. They call her 'The Kangaroo'!"
"And the School House will get the high jump," said Lettice. "Wehaven't anybody so good as Lois Atkinson."
"How about the Atalanta race?"
"Doubtful. I expect it will go to Aldwyth's, or Bride's. They've beentraining their champion runners the whole term, while we wereconcentrating our energies on cricket. No Chaddites have even entered,I believe! Chatty, you ought to be in it."
"It seemed no use putting down my name. I was practising last week--youremember, we had a general trial of all the houses?--and I soon found Ihadn't a ghost of a chance."
"Well, St. Chad's must content itself with its cricket laurels. We'vegot the cup for this year, at any rate."
The first portion of the programme consisted of military drill andphysical exercises, in which the whole school took part, showing areadiness and promptitude of action worthy of a regiment. Miss Younghad prepared a little surprise for the visitors. At the end of thedisplay, the girls suddenly ranked themselves so that their sailorhats, viewed from a distance, formed the College motto: "United ineffort"; then, at a sign, they moved again, and the greeting, "Welcometo Chessington" appeared instead. Naturally, this caused much applause,and many congratulations were offered to Miss Cavendish on theexcellent discipline prevailing throughout.
The flag signalling was confined to a picked band, so the greaterportion of the girls now joined the spectators, only those who hadentered for the various competitions remaining in a separate corner ofthe field.
"I'm glad we have five Chaddites at flag work," said Chatty Burns;"it's a larger proportion than any other house. But there our triumphsare likely to end."
"We won't give up too soon," said Lettice. "There's an old proverb:'You're never killed till you're dead'. We might manage to score, afterall."
In spite of Lettice's sanguine anticipations, St. Chad's did not appearlikely to win any triumphs on this occasion. The long jump, as everyonehad expected, fell easily to Mona Richards, who thoroughly justifiedher nickname of "Kangaroo", and caused the Hilaryites to hold up theirheads with the proud consciousness of victory. The high jump seemed atfirst of more doubtful issue; both Dorothy Saunders, of St. Bride's,and Rachel Foard, of St. Aldwyth's, ran Lois Atkinson very close, andthe School House had almost made up its mind to a beating when the lucksuddenly turned, leaving Lois mistress of the event.
The next item was the "Atalanta Race", so called because eachcompetitor was obliged to pick up three apples during its course, andpresent them duly at the winning post--not an easy feat to accomplish,as it was possible to drop the first and second in the hurry ofsnatching at the third.
"There are eleven in for it," announced Lettice, as the candidatesbegan to take their places at the starting-point. "Five scarletribbons, two pinks, three violets, and one blue. Not a single Chaddite,alas! Yes, I believe there actually is! Look, there's an orange hatwalking up, to make a twelfth!"
"Who can it be?" asked several of the girls, straining their eyes tocatch a glimpse of the last comer, who was rather hidden behind theothers.
"She's about Pauline's height," said Lettice. "No; Pauline is overthere, with Madge and Dorothy. It's not tall enough for Effie Lawson,nor fat enough for Claudia Hammond-Smith. Can it possibly be Adeline?Why, girls, by all that's wonderful and marvellous, it's JanieHenderson!"
Janie's appearance among the trained runners in the Atalanta race wasindeed sufficient to cause the most unbounded astonishment. Her generaldislike of active exercise was proverbial. It was well known that sheonly played games under the strictest compulsion, and throughout herschool course she had earned the not unmerited reputation of a"slacker". That she, the most unathletic and altogether unlikely girlin the College, should have calmly taken her place as the sole championof St. Chad's in so difficult a race seemed nearly incredible.
"I wonder Miss Young let her!" gasped Ruth Latimer in horror. "She'sbound to fall out immediately."
"And it will bring more discredit on the house than if no one hadtried," added Chatty Burns. "I'd have gone in for it myself, onlyVivian begged me not to."
"I call it a regular swindle!" said Maisie Talbot. "Honor, did she tellyou of this mad scheme?"
"Not a word!"
There was a curious expression on Honor's face as she answered, a lookof mingled surprise and enlightenment. She had not forgotten the talkat St. Kolgan's Abbey, and she alone of the whole school knew themotive that had prompted Janie to such an amazing action, and couldaccount for this apparent inconsistency of conduct.
"I never dreamt of her really doing it!" she murmured, under herbreath.
"Someo
ne ought to stop her in time!" exclaimed Lettice indignantly.
So far, however, from placing any hindrance in the way of Janie'sattempt, Miss Young, on the contrary, appeared to be giving her a fewwords of encouragement and final advice.
The course was to be three times round the cricket ground, an apple tobe picked up in each circle. Heaps of early green codlins from theorchard had been disposed at regular intervals, and competitors mightselect from which pile they wished, so long as they took neither morenor less than the one required specimen in every round, the objectbeing to prevent a general scramble. There were to be no handicaps, sothe twelve girls were drawn up in even rank, each girl with one foot onthe white line, and her eyes fixed on Miss Young, in readiness for thesignal to start. It was an anxious moment.
"One! Two! Three--off!"
They were gone, a row of young athletes, each bounding forward in theardent hope of outstripping the rest, and gaining the coveted silvercup of victory. The race was always a great feature of the Chessingtonsports, but to-day, to the members of one house at any rate, itafforded a spectacle of more than ordinary interest. The eyes of allthe Chaddites seemed riveted upon Janie, and they watched with franticexcitement to see how she would conduct herself in the struggle.
"She's keeping well up with the rest," whispered Lettice.
"And has a very light, swinging pace," replied Ruth.
"She's actually ahead of Connie Peters already!" said Chatty.
"And gaining on Christina Willoughby!"
"There! She's picked up her first apple!"
"And passed Blanche Hedley!"
"If she only goes on at this rate, St. Chad's may begin to hope."
"Too good to last, I'm afraid."
"She's begun the second round!"
"She's flagging a little!"
"No, she isn't! She's saving herself for a spurt. There! I told you so!She's passed Christina now!"
"I can hardly believe it's Janie Henderson who's running. It doesn'tseem possible!"
"Well, of course, she's extremely light; that gives her a great pullover most of the others."
"But I didn't know she could run at all!"
"Perhaps she didn't either, until she tried."
"She's picked up her second apple!"
"And Alice Marsh has nearly knocked her over, through rushing to thesame heap."
"Never mind! it hasn't really hindered her."
"She and Nettie Saville are almost equal now!"
"How well she keeps up!"
"There she goes, past the post again!"
"This is actually the last round!"
"And that's her third apple!"
"She'll let it fall!"
"No, she won't; she's got them quite tight!"
"She's up to Nettie!"
"No--Nettie is spurting, and gaining fast!"
"Janie must push on!"
"Hurrah! Nettie has dropped an apple, and she'll have to stop, and pickit up."
"Janie is ahead of everyone!"
"If she wins, it will be a triumph for the orange ribbon!"
Thus the girls, with continuous anxiety, followed the events of therace, all unknowing that Janie was playing for a far higher stake thanthey realized, and that on the result of that race hung, not only thehonour of St. Chad's, but the future of a human soul, capable ofinfinitely so much more than it had yet achieved.
"They're all putting on steam! Oh, look! Alice Marsh is almost even!"
"And so is Christina!"
"And Connie Peters has gained what she lost at first!"
"Janie mustn't fail now!"
"Nettie has passed her!"
"Then she'll lose, for a certainty!"
"Oh, dear! I hardly dare look!"
"She won't! She won't! She's making a last dash! She's in front ofNettie! She's gaining--three feet--four feet! Well done, Janie! Go on!Go on! You're safe! Don't flag now!"
"Oh! Hurrah for St. Chad's! She's actually won!"
The wild delight of the Chaddites at this most marvellous andunexpected achievement was beyond all bounds. They cheered themselvesnearly hoarse, and waved their handkerchiefs in the exuberance of theirjoy. To have gained the Atalanta race was a score for their housewhich, added to their previous cricket successes, would place it on thehighest pinnacle of the athletic records of the year.
"And to think that my delicate Janie should be capable of such a feat!"exclaimed Mrs. Henderson, who had watched the contest with hardly lessexcitement than the Chaddites themselves. "Chessington has been themaking of her, and I cannot thank you enough, Miss Cavendish, for yourcare of her general health. She is another girl from what she was twoyears ago. The doctor always told me that plenty of exercise would beher salvation, but I could never persuade her to run about at home."
"I am as delighted as you at the change," declared Miss Cavendish."Janie has shown us quite a new phase to-day, and we shall take carethat she keeps up to this standard."
Janie herself, panting and flushed with victory, heard the applausealmost as in a dream. It was sweet to her ears, yet it was not thereward for which she had striven. Her eager gaze searched down the longline of clapping girls till she found Honor's face. For a moment theireyes met, but in that one swift glance she read all she wished tolearn, and could interpret without the medium of language her friend'sunspoken thoughts: "It was a bargain. You have kept your part of it,and I will keep mine."
The Honor who returned to Ireland next day was indeed changed from theone who had left home in disgrace only thirteen weeks before--so muchmore thoughtful, sympathetic, and considerate, with such higher idealsand nobler aspirations, that she scarcely seemed the same: an Honor whocould tread softly in her mother's room, and give the requiredtenderness to that dear one who was to be spared so short a time toher; an Honor who, while keeping all her old love of fun, could forgetself, and turn her merriment into sunshine for others. Character is aplant of slow growth, and she was not yet all she might be; but she hadset her foot on the upward ladder, and whether at school, or at home,or in after years, life to her would always mean a conscious efforttowards better things.
It seemed to her as if she had been away years, instead of only threemonths, when she and Dermot (who had passed his examination for a Navalcadetship) drove from Ballycroghan along the well-known road toKilmore. The villagers stood at their cabin doors waving a greeting;her father, and actually her mother too, were waiting for her on theCastle steps when she arrived; and her four elder brothers hadcollected all the dogs of the establishment to join in a warm, ifsomewhat uproarious reception.
"I believe everything looks glad to see me," said Honor, "the veryhouse, and the trees, and the birds, and the flowers in the garden! I'mgoing to have the most glorious holidays, and enjoy every hour of them.It feels almost worth while to have been thirteen weeks at Chessington,for the joy of such a coming home again!"
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PRINTED IN GREAT BRITAIN_At the Villafield Press, Glasgow, Scotland_
The New Girl at St. Chad's: A Story of School Life Page 17
