A Fourth Form Friendship: A School Story

by Angela Brazil

  CHAPTER II

  Mabel Farrington

  Birkwood Grange was a rambling, roomy stone house, built at the edge ofa breezy common, within sight and sound of the sea. It was a pleasantspot for a school; beyond stretched the broad downs, covered with short,fine grass, through which the dazzling white road wound like a ribbon tothe distant horizon. There was a sense of air and space as one lookedover the green upland, where for miles the view was interrupted only bythe sails of a windmill, or an occasional storm-swept tree, the slantingbranches of which showed the direction of the prevailing gale. In front,the chalky cliffs descended sharply to the beach; and beyond them, nowblue as turquoise, now gleaming silver, now inky black, as calm as alake, or lashing into foaming spray, always changing, yet everbeautiful, lay the wide waters of the English Channel. On one side ofthe house was a walled kitchen-garden, and on the other a field forhockey; while in front a large lawn provided ample space for severaltennis courts.

  On the afternoon of September 14th The Grange presented an extremelylively and animated scene. Girls were everywhere--tall girls, shortgirls, fat girls, slim girls; some fair, some dark, some pretty andsome plain; and all in a state of excitement, and chattering as fast astheir tongues would wag. No anthill, or hive of bees about to swarm,could have seemed in a greater ferment; there was a constant hum ofconversation, a continual patter of feet, and a succession of youngpeople, always moving in and out, searching for friends, claiming oldacquaintances, exchanging greetings, and passing on items of news. Itwas the first day of the autumn term; a fresh school year had begun, andthe party of thirty-nine girls who constituted Miss Drummond's littlecommunity were once more assembled for a season of work and play.Several changes had taken place; most of the rooms had been re-paperedand painted, and there were alterations in the time-table, a revisedpractising list, and an entirely modified arrangement of some of theclasses.

  Small wonder, therefore, that a babel of talk prevailed in every cornerof the house, and that various groups of hair ribbons kept collectingand dispersing with the bewildering effect of a kaleidoscope, while sucha general atmosphere of bustle and commotion pervaded the establishmentas to turn the head of any onlooker in a complete whirl. Aldred,ensconced in an angle of a bow window, surveyed the whole spectacle, asyet, from the standpoint of an outsider. It is true, she had received acordial welcome from Miss Drummond; she had been duly entered as amember of the Fourth Form; she had been allotted a desk in a classroom,a locker in the recreation-room, and a cubicle in a big, airy bedroom;and was already possessed of a pile of new books, a chest expander, anda hockey stick: yet, in spite of this initiation she was feelingdecidedly like a fish out of water. She was not usually afflicted withshyness, but to find herself in the midst of a medley of strangers, alltoo occupied with their own affairs even to realize her existence, was alittle disconcerting to even her easy self-confidence. She was beginningto wonder how long she would remain unnoticed, and was trying to screwup her courage to venture a remark to one of her nearest neighbours,when a plain girl in spectacles broke the ice.

  "What's your name, and where do you come from?"

  Aldred started at the abruptness of the question and turned to face thespeaker, who continued with a smile: "We always put new-comers through acatechism. I want to know your age, and what class and dormitory you'rein, and which teacher you're to learn music from, and whether you'regoing to take dancing and wood-carving. Oh! so you're in theFourth--that's my form, as it happens. My name's Ursula Bramley, and I'mfourteen and a half. We have a very decent time at Birkwood. There's anyamount of fun going on, as you'll soon find out. Wait till we start theDebating Society and the Cooking Class! Have you been measured yet for agymnasium costume? Of course, there has not been an opportunity, butMiss Drummond is sure to see about it to-morrow--and a cooking aprontoo, if you haven't already got one."

  Aldred replied as briefly as possible to these various interrogations,but Ursula seemed quite satisfied with "Yes" and "No" for an answer, andrattled on: "I'm rather sorry for you, being put in No. 2 dormitory,because you'll be with Fifth Form girls, and you can't expect them to beparticularly chummy with you. If there had only been room, now, in No.5! But we're full up, all six beds; there isn't even a corner for ashakedown. We have such jokes in the mornings, when we're getting up!It's a pity you'll be out of it. I'd like you to see Dora Maxwell actinga peacock; you'd simply scream! Of course, we daren't make too muchnoise, or we should have a monitress pouncing down upon us; but it'sever such fun, all the same. They're a very prim set in No. 2. Theynever lost a single order mark last term! Well, if you can't be in ourdormitory you'll be with us in class, at any rate, and it isn't dullthere by any means, I can tell you."

  "How many girls are there in the Fourth Form?" asked Aldred.

  "There were seven before, but you'll make eight. Why, most of them arein the room now, or on the lawn just outside, so I can point them out toyou. That's Phoebe Stanhope standing by the fireplace,--the one withthe long light pigtail and the blue blouse; she's talking to LornaHallam, and Agnes Maxwell is showing her camera to them both. Now, ifyou'll look through the window you'll see two girls walking arm in armround the sundial; the fair one is Dora Maxwell, and the dark one isMyfanwy James. Dora is tremendously jolly; she and Myfanwy think of themost outlandish things to do. Why, one night they went to bed rightunderneath their bottom sheets, and put their pillows over their faces,and when Freda Martin (that's our prefect) came to turn out the lightsshe thought they weren't there at all, and was just going to make atremendous fuss, when Myfanwy couldn't stand it any longer, andexploded! We six are in the same dormitory, and we're the greatestchums. We call ourselves 'The Clan', and each is pledged to back theothers up through thick and thin, whatever happens."

  "Who's the seventh girl in the class?"

  "Mabel Farrington."

  "And doesn't she belong to 'The Clan'?"

  "Oh, no! Mabel wouldn't dream of such a thing."

  "Why not?"

  "Oh! because--well, she's rather particular. She's not very greatfriends with anybody."

  "Don't you like her?"

  "Like her? Yes; everybody likes Mabel. That's not the reason at all.Somehow she's a little different from other people. You see, hergrandfather is Bishop of Holcombe, and her uncle is Lord Ribchester."

  "You mean, she gives herself airs?"

  "Not in the least; she's not at all conceited. But she never cares aboutplaying tricks, and having all kinds of jokes, like the rest of us."

  "Then she's a prig!"

  "No, she isn't. Wait till you've seen her; she's extremely nice. As Isaid before, she always seems different--just a trifle above everyoneelse, perhaps."

  "Which dormitory is she in?"

  "She's allowed a bedroom to herself, and she's the only girl in theschool who has one--even the monitresses have to sleep in cubicles."

  "Why is she so specially privileged?"

  "Her mother, Lady Muriel Farrington, is a friend of Miss Drummond's. Ibelieve Mabel was sent here rather as a favour, because Miss Drummondwas so anxious to have her at The Grange."

  "Then you all make a fuss over her?"

  "No, not particularly; but we certainly like her."

  "I'm sure I shan't."

  "You can't help it, when you know her. By the way, here she is now,coming in at the door. I must tell her who you are."

  Aldred turned, and saw a girl of her own age, so remarkably pretty andattractive that, in spite of her preconceived prejudice against thearistocrat of the school, she could not repress a certain amount ofadmiration.

  Mabel had a very fair complexion, with cheeks pink as apple blossom, apair of frank, thoughtful blue eyes, straight features, and a quantityof beautiful red-gold hair that hung almost to her waist. Her expressionwas particularly pleasant and winning, and as she crossed the room inresponse to Ursula's call, and smiled a welcome to the new-comer, Aldredbegan already to reverse her unfavourable opinion.

  "I'm glad we shall be eight in class n
ow," said Mabel. "It's a muchnicer number than seven. Don't you remember, last term Miss Drummondsaid she hoped we should get a new girl? Of course, we were Third Formthen, but it has not made any difference to be moved up to the Fourth,except that we are going to have Miss Bardsley for a teacher, instead ofMiss Chambers--we're just the same set altogether."

  "I like our new classroom far better than the old one," remarked Ursula."The desks are more comfortable, and there's a nicer view out of thewindow. From my place I can catch a little glimpse of the sea, if Iscrew my neck."

  "Miss Bardsley won't let you crane your neck in school, I'm sure," saidPhoebe Stanhope, who had joined the group. "She has the reputation ofbeing much stricter than Miss Chambers."

  "Ugh! Then I wish I could go back to the Third," declared Ursula.

  "We'd a fairly easy time with Miss Chambers," said Lorna Hallam. "Onecould always give a headache as an excuse, if one didn't know one'slessons."

  "I don't care for a slack teacher like poor Miss Chambers," put in AgnesMaxwell. "She has no more idea of keeping order than a jellyfish; Icould teach as well myself."

  "Go and tell Miss Drummond so, and propose that you should take theThird," laughed Ursula. "I should like to see her face when you suggestit!"

  "There's the dressing-bell! Aldred, you must go and get tidy for tea,which will be ready in exactly ten minutes."

  There was no doubt that Mabel Farrington was a particularly nice girl;the more Aldred saw of her, the more she liked her. Her popularity atThe Grange was thoroughly well deserved, for it rested more on hercharacter than on her social standing. She was extremely high-principledand conscientious, a plodding worker, and always anxious to uphold thegeneral tone and credit of the school. If she had a fault, it was herexclusiveness. So far, though she was pleased with everyone, she hadmade no bosom friend, and, as Ursula had said, kept slightly aloof fromthe other girls in the form.

  Aldred also found herself rather left out; "the clan" of six were sothoroughly absorbed in their own interests, so taken up with variousamusements, secrets, and private jokes that could not be shared byanyone who did not sleep in their dormitory, that it was impossible forthem to include her in their fun.

  They were not unkind to her, but they simply took no notice of her; andas the Fifth Form girls in No. 2 dormitory were equally stand-off,Aldred's first week at The Grange was a very lonely one.

  It was an unpleasant and unwelcome experience for her; she had come toschool full of confidence that she would win immediate favour, and itwas humiliating to find herself not appreciated as she had expected.

  After her first catechism by Ursula no one had exhibited furthercuriosity about her home or her family; and any information which shevolunteered was received without enthusiasm. It was plain that "TheClan" thought her of small consequence, and did not trouble to cultivateher acquaintance.

  Aldred was not used to being overlooked; she felt both indignant andoffended at this neglect. She almost wished she had never left home, or,at any rate, that she had been sent to some other school than TheGrange.

  "If I can't make them like me, I shall never be happy here," she said toherself. "They're a stupid set! Well, if I don't get along any betterthan this, I shall ask Father to take me away, and send me to Oakdenewith the Ropers. They always admire me; Doris writes two letters to myone, and Sibyl fights with Daisy to sit next to me at tea!"

  It is generally the unexpected that happens. Aldred had nearly made upher mind that she would never be popular with the Fourth Form, and wouldbe obliged to remain a permanent outsider, when quite suddenly the wholeaspect of affairs was altered.

  The change arose from a most unanticipated quarter. One day MabelFarrington came up to Aldred with an unusual warmth of manner, and anevidently newly awakened interest.

  "By the by, Aldred, do you happen to live at Watersham?" she began.

  "At Dingfield. It's really a part of Watersham, only the river runsbetween," replied Aldred, rather astonished at the question, for no onehad seemed to care to hear about her home before.

  "And were you staying at Seaforth in June?"

  "Yes; we had rooms on the Promenade."

  "I thought you must be the same girl! I've just had a letter from acousin. I don't expect you've met her, but at any rate she has heard allabout you, and she wrote to tell me. I'm so glad you have come to TheGrange! I hope we shall be great friends. Will you sit next to me inclass?"

  Aldred's amazement was extreme. That Mabel Farrington, so exclusive andparticular, should have singled her out, and actually wished to sit nearher, was an honour which had been bestowed upon no one else in theschool. It was evidently no empty compliment, but a genuine offer offriendship, for Mabel went promptly to Miss Bardsley and arranged for anexchange of desks, with the result that she and Aldred were placed sideby side. At lunch-time she took Aldred's arm as they walked down thepassage, she chose her for a partner at tennis during the afternoon,and sat talking to her during evening recreation.

  She even made a more astonishing proposal.

  "It's horrid for you to be obliged to sleep in No. 2, with Fifth Formgirls," she said. "There's plenty of room in my bedroom for another bed.Would you care to join me? I should be delighted to have you, if youwill."

  The sudden fancy which Mabel had taken for Aldred could not fail toattract the notice of the other members of the Fourth Form. It was sounlike her to seek to be on such intimate terms with a classmate that atfirst they could scarcely believe the evidence of their own eyes. Whenthey saw, however, that she appeared to have formed, not only anaffection, but also an intense admiration for Aldred, they began toyield the latter a higher place in their estimation. As an ordinarynew-comer, she had seemed of little importance; but as the chosen friendand elect companion of Mabel Farrington, she was at once raised to avery superior and important position. Girls who had hardly noticed herbefore, now made much of her; and her opinions were consulted, herremarks listened to, and her suggestions well received. It was anunderstood thing that to offend her would be to offend Mabel also, andto please the one was the best way of pleasing the other.

  Aldred found this new state of things extremely gratifying. It wasexactly what she had hoped for; success had come with a bound, andgranted her the popularity for which she had craved. Added to this, sheliked Mabel immensely, and keenly enjoyed her society. Once Mabel hadunbent and thrown off her usual cloak of reserve, she proved a mostdelightful and winning comrade, and it gave a special zest to herconfidences to feel they were shared by no one else. Aldred knew wellthat she was regarded as supremely lucky by the rest of the class, eachone of whom would have jumped at the chance of being Mabel's room-mate,and envied her good fortune. She held her head a little high inconsequence, and was ready almost to patronize those who, while they hadhad a much longer acquaintance with the school favourite, had not beenconsidered worthy of her particular esteem.

  It was about a fortnight after the establishment of this friendship,when the two girls had already grown very fond of each other, thatAldred happened one day to be standing inside the book cupboard in theclassroom. It was quite a large cupboard, almost like a separate littleroom; and it had shelves all round, where spare exercise-books, bottlesof ink, and boxes of chalk for the blackboard were kept. No one but themonitress was supposed to enter, and that only by the mistress's orders;so Aldred had no business there, and had gone in out of curiosity to seewhat it contained. She was examining the new pens, paper fasteners,bundles of pencils, and other articles which she found, when she heardvoices in the classroom. Mabel Farrington and one or two other girls hadevidently come in, and, to judge from their conversation, werediscussing no less a person than herself. Aldred pricked up her ears.What were they saying about her? Strict honour urged her to step out ofthe cupboard at once, before she heard any more; but prudence advisedher to stay where she was, and not to let her companions know that shehad been prying in a place where she was not allowed to go: and it wasthe latter counsel that prevailed.

  "Yes
, I think she's pretty," said Phoebe Stanhope, "and she's veryclever, and can make herself pleasant; but (if you'll excuse my sayingso, Mabel) I can't quite see why you admire her so blindly as you do."

  "Because she deserves it!" exclaimed Mabel, with enthusiasm. "She didsuch an absolutely splendid thing that I feel proud to know her."

  "What do you mean?"

  "I'll tell you. I didn't say a word about it before because I wanted tosee if Aldred would mention it herself; but she's never hinted at thematter, and that's raised her higher still in my opinion. There are fewgirls who would not have made some reference to it."

  "But what did she do?" asked Dora Maxwell.

  "She was staying at Seaforth last June, and while she was there aterrible fire broke out in the middle of the night at the house whereshe was lodging. The people got safely on to the Promenade, and hadsent for the fire engines, when suddenly it was discovered that thelandlady's youngest little boy had been left asleep in the attic. Theflames were blazing out at the windows, and the hall was filled withhorrible, dense smoke. Nobody dared to go inside, and everybody said:'Wait for the Brigade, and the proper fire-escape. One of the men willfetch him.' But Aldred knew that every moment wasted might mean the lossof the child's life. She ran and dipped her pocket-handkerchief in thesea, and tied it over her mouth; then, without consulting anyone, shedashed into the house, and crept on her hands and knees up the stairs.She could just manage to breathe, but she reached the bedroom, andgroped her way to the crib where the little boy lay whimpering withfright. He was only two years old, and luckily not very heavy, so shetook him in her arms and crawled down the stairs in the same way as shehad gone up, so as to get the purer air close to the floor. The peoplenearly went wild with excitement as they saw her stumble out at the doorcarrying the baby; and its mother was ready to worship her. The Brigadewas such a long time in arriving that the flames had gained a completehold before it came, and the attics were flaring like a bonfire. IfAldred had not seized the opportunity, and gone the very moment she did,the child would have been burnt to death! I believe it made a stir inSeaforth at the time. The newspapers wanted to print her portrait, buther father wouldn't allow it. He said 'his daughter had no wish fornotoriety, and did not desire any public recognition of an act she hadonly been too happy to perform. She would be grateful if people wouldkindly take no further notice of it.' Now, you see why I think so wellof Aldred! She's as brave as anyone in the _Book of Golden Deeds_, andyet so modest about what she has done that she's content to let it bequite forgotten."

  "How did you hear, then?"

  "I happened to mention in a letter to a cousin that we had a new girl atThe Grange, called Aldred Laurence; and Cousin Marion wrote back,sending me a newspaper cutting that she had kept describing the fire,and saying she was sure that was the name of the 'little heroine' whomeverybody at Seaforth had been talking about when she stayed there inJune. She knew her home was at Watersham, and could tell me that shewas dark and pretty, for she had sat next to her at a concert, oneafternoon, on the pier. To make quite sure, I asked Aldred if she livedat Watersham, and if she had been at Seaforth in June; so when sheanswered 'Yes' to both questions, I was certain that Cousin Marion mustbe right."

  "Aldred was brave!"

  "Yes, and she showed such particularly nice, delicate feelingafterwards. It's a privilege to have such a girl at the school! Althoughshe mayn't want us to say anything about it, she can't help ourhonouring her for it. I shall always feel quite different towards herfor the sake of this."

  In the shelter of the book cupboard Aldred had overheard every word.Mabel's account almost took her breath away. It was all a mistake. Shehad certainly never been in a fire, or risen to any such pitch ofheroism. She remembered the circumstances, which had occurred justbefore her visit to Seaforth, and she had been struck at the time withthe fact that the author of the deed bore the same surname as herself.The latter's name was, however, spelt with a W instead of a U, and thetwo families were not related, nor even acquainted. Aldred had not,indeed, been aware that the Lawrences lived at Watersham.

  ALDRED OVERHEARS A SURPRISING STORY]

  So this was the explanation of Mabel's violent attachment! She had beenattracted, not by Aldred's real personality, but by qualities which shebelieved her to possess. What would she think, when she learnt thatAldred was not the girl she imagined? Suppose she were to drop thefriendship as suddenly as she had taken it up? She might possibly preferto have her bedroom to herself once more, and would feel no furtherinterest in one who had not done anything particularly worthy ofadmiration. Aldred turned quite cold at the idea. If such a catastropheoccurred, all her popularity in the school would be lost. She was shrewdenough to realize that it depended entirely upon Mabel's goodwill, andthat her position really resembled that of a Court favourite. It wouldbe worse, far worse, to have to fall again into comparative obscuritythan if she had never been thus made much of. Her pride could nottolerate the thought of being once more a nonentity in her class. To beheld in high repute by her companions was the salt of life to her.

  She knew perfectly well that she ought to walk out of the cupboard,confess to Mabel and the others that she had been listening to theirtalk, and explain the exact state of the case. It was the onlystraightforward course to take, and would prevent any furthermisconceptions. And yet, she hesitated. A swift and strong temptationhad assailed her. After all, why need she tell? No one was aware thatshe had overheard this conversation, and nobody had so far made theslightest reference to her fictitious deed. She would act as if she werequite unconscious that they credited her with it, and it would be timeenough to disclaim it when it was alluded to in unmistakable terms. Thelonger she could keep Mabel's friendship the stronger it would be likelyto prove; and if the rest of the class had grown accustomed to treatingher opinions with deference, they would probably continue to accord hera certain amount of consideration, from sheer force of habit.

  She could not deliberately give up all that she had gained; it was toogreat a sacrifice to be expected from anybody! On some future occasion,when she had had sufficient opportunity to win their approbation on herown merits, she could casually enlighten the girls, and set the mistakeright. She was confident that when they knew her better they could notfail to value her for herself alone, and this exploit would sink intoinsignificance. Besides, it was surely Mabel's fault, for jumping atonce to a conclusion without making adequate enquiries. She could nothelp all the absurd things people might set down to her account, and itwas not her business to go about the world correcting them.

  The girls had left the classroom and run downstairs. She could nowemerge from the cupboard quite unobserved, and no one but herself wouldbe any the wiser for what had happened. For the present, at any rate,she would temporize; she would let matters remain as they were, and beguided by future contingencies. There was really no deception about it,because she fully intended to tell some time, when it was moreconvenient.

  Thus Aldred drugged her conscience, and allowed herself deliberately totake the first step in a course which she knew in her heart wasdishonourable and unworthy, and which she was afterwards most bitterlyto regret.