[Illustration: A CHANCE FOR RETALIATION]

Transcriber's Note: This sentence is incomplete, as printed:"Where did you get it, Flossie?" enquired

The New Girl at St. Chad's

A Story of School Life

By

ANGELA BRAZIL

Author of

"A Fourth Form Friendship" "The Manor House School""The Nicest Girl in the School" &c. 

_ILLUSTRATED BY JOHN CAMPBELL_

BLACKIE AND SON LIMITEDLONDON GLASGOW AND BOMBAY

1912

Contents

Chap. Page

 I. Honor Introduces Herself 9

 II. Honor's Home 25

 III. The Wearing of the Green 39

 IV. Janie's Charge 57

 V. A Riding Lesson 75

 VI. The Lower Third 93

 VII. St. Chad's Celebrates an Occasion 106

 VIII. A Mysterious Happening 126

 IX. Diamond cut Diamond 138

 X. Honor Finds Favour 150

 XI. A Relapse 166

 XII. St. Kolgan's Abbey 182

 XIII. Miss Maitland's Window 199

 XIV. A Stolen Meeting 212

 XV. Sent to Coventry 227

 XVI. A Rash Step 243

 XVII. Janie turns Detective 258

XVIII. The End of the Term 271

Illustrations

 Page

A Chance for Retaliation _Frontispiece_ 146

Honor Concludes the Purchase of Firefly 33

An Interview With Miss Cavendish 54

The Liberation of Pete 96

An Unlucky Escapade 209

"Startled by the voices, she jumped up" 253

THE NEW GIRL AT ST. CHAD'S

CHAPTER I

Honor Introduces Herself

"Any new girls?"

It was Madge Summers who asked the question, seated on the right-handcorner of Maisie Talbot's bed, munching caramels. It was a very smallbed, but at that moment it managed to accommodate no less than sevenof Maisie's most particular friends, who were closely watching theprogress of her unpacking, and discussing the latest school news, interspersed with remarks on her belongings. 

Maisie extricated herself from the depths of her box, and handed a pileof stockings to Lettice, her younger sister. 

"What's the use of asking me?" she replied. "Our cab only drove up halfan hour ago. I feel almost new myself yet. "

"So do I, and horribly in the blues too, " said Pauline Reynolds. "It'salways a wrench to leave home. I'm perfectly miserable for at leastthree days at the beginning of each term. I feel as if----"

"Oh, don't all begin to expatiate about your feelings!" broke in ChattyBurns. "We know Pauline's symptoms only too well: the first day sheshows aggressively red eyes and a damp pocket-handkerchief; the secondday she writes lengthy letters home, begging to be allowed to returnimmediately and have lessons with a private governess; the third dayshe wanders about, trying to get sympathy from anyone who isweak-minded enough to listen to her, till in desperation somebody dragsher into the playground, and makes her have a round at hockey. Thatcheers her up, and she begins to think life isn't quite such a desert. By the fourth morning she has recovered her spirits, and come to theconclusion that Chessington College is a very decent kind of place; andshe begins to be alarmed lest her mother, on the strength of thepathetic letter, should have decided to let her leave at once, andshould have already engaged a private governess. "

"You're most unsympathetic, Chatty!" said Pauline, smiling in spite ofherself. "You don't know what it is to be home-sick. "

"I wouldn't parade such a woebegone face, whatever might be the depthsof my misery, " returned Chatty briskly. 

"I'm always glad to come back, " declared Dorothy Arkwright. "I likeschool. It's fun to meet everybody again, and arrange about cricket, and the Debating Society, and the Natural History Club. There's so muchgoing on at St. Chad's. "

"No one has answered my question yet, " remarked Madge Summers. "Arethere any new girls?"

Chatty wriggled herself into a more comfortable position betweenAdeline Vaughan and Ruth Latimer. 

"I think there are about a dozen altogether. Vivian Holmes says thereare four at St. Bride's, three at St. Aldwyth's, two at the SchoolHouse, and two at St. Hilary's. I saw one of them arriving at the sametime as I did, and Miss Cavendish was gushing over another in thelibrary; and Marian Spencer has brought a sister--she introduced her tome just now. "

"But what about St. Chad's?"

"We've only one, I believe, though Flossie Taylor, the Hammond-Smiths'cousin, has moved here from St. Bride's. She was always destined for aChaddite, you know, only there wasn't room for her till the Richardsonsleft. "

"She's no great acquisition, " said Dorothy Arkwright. "I hate girls tochange their quarters. When once they start at a house, they ought tostick to it. "

"Well, she wants to be with her cousins, I suppose, " put in MadgeSummers. "Who's our new girl?"

"I don't know. I haven't heard anything about her. "

"Perhaps she hasn't arrived yet. "

"Sh! Sh!" said Pauline Reynolds, squeezing Madge's arm by way ofremonstrance, and pointing to the closely-drawn curtains of the cubicleat the farther end of the room. "She's here now. "

"Where?"

"There, you goose!"

"What has she shut herself up like that for?"

"How should I know?"

"Perhaps she's unpacking, " suggested Dorothy Arkwright. 

"If she is, she'll finish it quicker than Lettice and I can, " returnedMaisie Talbot. "Why can't you be hanging up some of those skirts, instead of sitting staring at me? Yes, this is a whole box of Edinburghrock, but you shan't have a single piece, any of you, unless you getoff my bed at once. "

"Poor old Maisie, don't grow excited!" murmured Ruth Latimer, appropriating the box and handing it round, though no one attempted tomove. 

"But look here! what about this new girl?" persisted Madge. "Hasn'tanybody seen her?"

"No. She's been in there ever since she arrived. "

"Don't talk so loud; she'll hear you. "

"I don't care if she does. "

"I want to know what she's doing. "

"I can tell you, then, " said Chatty Burns, in a whisper that was moreaudible by far than her ordinary voice. 

"What?"

"Crying! New girls always cry, and some old ones too, if you takePauline as a specimen. "

"I'm not crying now!" protested Pauline indignantly. "And how can youtell that the new girl is?"

"I'm as certain as if I'd proved a proposition in Euclid. Why shouldshe have drawn her curtains so closely? If she's not lying on her bed, with a clean pocket-handkerchief to her eyes, I'll give you sixcaramels in exchange for three peppermint creams!"

"Then you're just mistaken!" cried a voice from the end cubicle. Thechintz curtain was pulled aside, and out marched a figure with sojaunty an air as to banish utterly the idea of possible homesickness ortears. 

It was a girl of about fifteen, a remarkably pretty girl (so herschoolmates decided, without an instant's hesitation), and rather outof the common. She had a clear, olive complexion, a lovely colour inher cheeks, a bewitching pair of dimples, and a perfect colt's mane ofthick, curly, brown hair. Perhaps her nose was a little too tip-tilted, and her mouth a trifle too wide for absolute beauty; but she showedsuch a nice row of even, white teeth when she laughed that one couldoverlook the latter deficiency. Her eyes were beyond praise, large andgrey, with a dark line round the iris, and shaded by long lashes; andthey were so soft, and wistful, and winning, and yet so twinkling andfull of fun, that they seemed as if they could compel admiration, andmake friends with their first glance. The girl walked across the roomin an easy, confident fashion, and stood, with a broad smile on herface, beaming at the seven others seated on Maisie's bed. 

"Why shouldn't I pull my curtains?" she asked. "If I'd been pullingfaces, now, you might have had some cause for complaint. You lookrather a nice set; I think I'm going to like you. "

The girls were so surprised that they could only stare. It seemedreversing the usual order of things for a new-comer, who ought to beshy and confused, to be so absolutely and entirely self-possessed, andto pass judgment with such calm assurance upon these old members of St. Chad's, some of whom were already in their third year at ChessingtonCollege. 

"Perhaps I'd better introduce myself, " continued the stranger. "My nameis Honor Fitzgerald, and I come from Kilmore, near Ballycroghan, inCounty Kerry. "

"Then you're Irish!" gasped Chatty Burns. 

"Quite right. First class for geography! County Kerry is exactly in thebottom left-hand corner of the map of Ireland. It's a more hospitableplace than this is. I've been here nearly two hours, and nobody hasoffered me any refreshments yet. I'm simply starving!"

She looked so humorously and suggestively at the Edinburgh rock thatMadge Summers promptly offered it to her, regardless of the fact thatthe box belonged to Maisie Talbot. 

"Come along here, " said Ruth Latimer, trying to make a place for thenew girl on the bed by pushing the others vigorously nearer the end. 

"No room unless I sit on your knee, while you get up and walk about, "declared Honor. "There! I knew you would!" as Madge Summers fell with acrash on to the floor. 

 "Seven little schoolgirls, eating sugar sticks; One tumbled overboard, and then there were six!"

"Thank you. I think I prefer to 'take the chair', as the dentist says. There only seems to be one in each cubicle, but as I'm the visitor----"

"Take care!" screamed Maisie. "My clean blouses!"

"What am I doing? I declare, I never saw them. There, I'll nurse themfor you while I eat this delicious-looking piece of pink rock. "

The new girl was so utterly different from anybody else who had evercome to St. Chad's that the others waited with curiosity to hear whatshe would say next. 

"Well?" she enquired coolly at last. "I suppose you're thinking meover. I should like to know your opinion of me. They tell me at homethat my nose turns up, and my tongue is too long. But I didn't turn upmy nose at the Edinburgh rock, did I?--and as for my tongue, it fits mymouth, as a general rule, though it runs away sometimes. "

"When did you come?"

"What class are you in?"

"Have you seen Miss Cavendish yet?"

"How old are you?"

"Have you been to school before?"

"Do you know anyone here?"

"Why did you come to St. Chad's?"

The questions were fired off all together from seven pairs of lips. 

"One at a time, please!" returned Honor. "I'm older than I look, andyounger than I seem. You mayn't believe me, yet I assure you I've onlyhad three birthdays. "

"Rubbish!" said Chatty Burns. 

"It's a fact, all the same. "

"But how could that be?" demanded Pauline Reynolds incredulously. 

"Because I was born on the twenty-ninth of February, and I can't have abirthday except in a leap year. That accounts for anything odd there isabout me; so if you find me queer, you must just say: 'She's atwenty-ninth of February girl', and make excuses for me. As for theother questions, I've never been to school before; I've seen MissCavendish, but I haven't heard yet what class I'm to be in; fiveminutes ago I didn't know anybody here, but now I know--how many arethere of you?--one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine!"

"Have you unpacked yet?" asked Maisie, returning to her box, whichLettice had been steadily emptying. 

"Only about half. "

"I think we had better come and help you, then. "

"Better finish our own first!" grunted Lettice, for which remark shewas promptly snubbed by her elder sister. 

"Miss Maitland will be up at eight o'clock to look at our drawers, "said Chatty Burns. "She'll expect you to have everything put away, andyour coats and dresses hung in the wardrobe. "

"We have to be so fearfully tidy here!" sighed Adeline Vaughan. "Awarden comes round each morning, and woe betide you if you leave hairsin your brush, or have forgotten to fold your nightdress!"

"It's just as bad at St. Hilary's, " said Madge. 

"And worse at St. Bride's, " added Ruth Latimer. 

"My father wanted me to be at the School House, " said Honor, "but MissCavendish wrote that it was full, so I was entered at St. Chad'sinstead. "

"Yes, you generally need to have your name down for two years beforeyou can get a vacancy at the School House, " said Dorothy Arkwright. "It's the popular favourite with parents, because Miss Cavendishherself is the Head; but really, St. Chad's is far nicer. We all standup for our own house, and I know you'll like it. "

"There's the tea-bell! Come along! we must go at once, " interruptedChatty Burns. 

"Won't they wait for us?" enquired Honor, beginning to wash her handswith much deliberation. 

"Wait! She asks if they'll wait!" exclaimed Adeline Vaughan. 

"One can see you've never been to school before!" commented MaisieTalbot. "No, you certainly haven't time to comb your hair now. You hadbetter follow the rest of us as fast as you can. "

St. Chad's could accommodate forty pupils, and Honor found a placeassigned to her in the dining-hall near the end of a long table, whichlooked very attractive with its clean white cloth, its pretty china, and its vases of flowers in the middle. She had a good view of herschoolfellows, more than half of whom seemed of about the same age asherself, though there were tall girls, with their hair already put up, and a few younger ones who had apparently only just entered theirteens. Grace was sung, and then the urns began to fill an almostceaseless stream of cups, while plates of bread and butter circulatedwith much rapidity. 

"We're late to-day, " explained Honor's neighbour, "because the trainfrom the North does not get in until five. Our usual tea-time is fouro'clock, after games; then we have supper at half-past seven, whenwe've finished evening preparation. Did you bring any jam? Your hamperwill be unpacked to-morrow, and the pots labelled with your name. Iexpect you'll find one opposite your plate at breakfast. Jam andmarmalade are the only things we're allowed, except plain cakes. "

Tea on the first afternoon was generally an exciting occasion at St. Chad's. There were so many greetings between old friends, so much newsand such various topics to be discussed, that conversation, in asufficiently subdued undertone, went on very briskly. The girls hadenjoyed their Easter holidays, but most of them seemed pleased toreturn to school, for the summer term was always the favourite atChessington College. 

"Have you heard who's in the Eleven?" began Madge Summers. "They'veactually put in Grace Shaw, and she bowls abominably. I think it's rankfavouritism on Miss Young's part. She always gives St. Hilary's a turnwhen she can. "

"She was a Hilaryite herself, " returned Adeline Vaughan. "That's theworst of having a games mistress who's been educated at the school;she's sure to show partiality for her old house. "

"And yet in one way it's better, because she understands all ourcustoms and private rules. It would be almost impossible to explaineverything to a new-comer. "

"What about the house team?" asked Ruth Latimer. "Is anything fixed?"

"Not yet. There's to be a practice to-morrow, and it will go by ourscores. "

"I shall stick to tennis, " declared Pauline Reynolds. "One gets a fairchance there, at any rate, and we must keep up the credit of St. Chad'sin the courts. I don't know whether we've any chance of winning theshield. I wish we could get a real champion!"

"You should see Flossie Taylor play!" burst out Edith and ClaudiaHammond-Smith, who were anxious to bring their cousin forward, and toensure her popularity among the other girls. 

"I've not heard that she made any record at St. Bride's, " remarkedDorothy Arkwright, who resented Flossie's removal to St. Chad's. 

"She hasn't had an opportunity. She only came to school last Christmas, and it wasn't the tennis season. Wait till you see her serve!"

"Miss Young will have to be judge, not I, " replied Dorothy coldly. 

"Flossie is in your bedroom, Dorothy, " announced Claudia. "She has thecubicle near the fireplace. "

"If you're sleeping in the bed next to mine, " said Flossie, eyeingDorothy across the table with a rather patronizing air, "I sincerelyhope you don't snore. "

"Of course not!" responded Dorothy, in some indignation. 

"At St. Bride's, " continued Flossie, "one of my room-mates snoredatrociously. I used to have to get up and shake her, and pull thepillow from under her head, before I could go to sleep. "

"You'd better not try that on with me!"

"I would, in a minute, if you kept me awake. "

"It is a shame she's not in our room, " interposed Edith. "We've askedMiss Maitland to let her change with Geraldine Saunders, and I thinkperhaps she may. We want Flossie all to ourselves; I do hope she'll letus!"

"So do I!" retorted Dorothy feelingly. "The Hammond-Smiths are welcometo their cousin, so far as I'm concerned, " she whispered to ChattyBurns; "I don't like her. She's trying to show off. Edith and Claudiaare making far too much fuss over her. "

"They always gush, " commented Chatty. "Still, I dare say Flossie willneed taking down a little. "

"It would do her all the good in the world, " replied Dorothy. Then, turning to the Hammond-Smiths, she remarked aloud: "There's a new girlhere who may be just as good as your cousin, for anything we know. Honor Fitzgerald, do you play tennis?"

"I can play, but how you'll like it is another story, " answered Honor. "We two, " nodding at Flossie, "had better try a set by ourselves, andthen you can choose the winner. "

"I'm sure I don't care about it, thank you. " Flossie's tone wassupercilious. 

"All right! We don't force ourselves where we're not wanted in my partof the world. "

"Is that Ireland? Then I suppose your name is Biddy?"

"Certainly not!"

"I thought all Irish girls were called Biddy; are you sure you're not?"

"My name is Honor Fitzgerald. "

"Really! I'm astonished it isn't Mulligan, or O'Grady. "

The Hammond-Smiths giggled, and poked Effie and Blanche Lawson. 

"Isn't Flossie funny?" they whispered delightedly. 

"I think she's very rude, " observed Dorothy Arkwright. "I call that anextremely cheap form of wit. "

"Irish names are often rather peculiar, " drawled Claudia Hammond-Smith. 

"They're quite as good as English ones, and sometimes a great deal moreancient and aristocratic, " returned Honor. 

"One for Claudia, and for Flossie Taylor too!" said Dorothy to ChattyBurns. 

"Paddy, for instance, " interposed Flossie, who saw that the Lawsonswere listening, as well as her cousins. "St. Patrick and pigs always gotogether, in my mind. I suppose you keep a pig in Ireland?"

"Don't answer her!" whispered Honor's neighbour. "They're only teasingyou because you're new. They want to see how much you'll stand. "

But poor Honor was unaccustomed as yet to schoolgirl banter, and couldnot abstain from replying:

"Does it matter whether we do or not?"

She spoke quietly, but there was a gleam in her eye, as if her temperwere rising. 

"Not in the least! I only thought all Irish people cultivated pigs. "

"It's no worse than keeping a cat, or a dog. "

"My dear Paddy, of course not! Still, I shouldn't care to have thecreatures in the drawing-room. Take a little more bread and butter. I'msorry we've no potatoes to offer you. "

The Hammond-Smiths and the Lawsons tittered, and Dorothy Arkwright wasabout to state her frank opinion of their behaviour when Honor'spent-up wrath exploded. 

"We don't keep pigs in the drawing-room, " she exclaimed. "There's asaying that it takes nine tailors to make a man, so if your name isTaylor you can only be the ninth part of a lady!" Then, realizing thather upraised voice had drawn upon her the attention, not only of allthe girls, but also of Miss Maitland, she flushed crimson, scraped backher chair, and fled precipitately from the room. 

Miss Maitland looked surprised. It was an unheard-of thing for any girlto leave the tea-table without permission. Such a breach of schooldecorum had surely never been committed before at St. Chad's! There wasa very complete code of etiquette observed at the house, and to breakone of the laws of politeness was considered an unpardonable offence. 

"She's made a bad beginning, " whispered Ruth Latimer to Maisie Talbot. "It's most unfortunate. It was really the fault of Flossie Taylor andthe Hammond-Smiths. They needn't have teased her so. "

"Still, it was silly of her to lose her temper, " replied Maisie. "Shestalked out of the room like a queen of tragedy. Miss Maitland can'tbear girls who give way to their impulses; she despises what she calls'early Victorian hysterics', and I quite agree with her. "

"Yes, we must learn to be stoics here, " said Ruth; "and as for teasing, the wisest thing is to take no notice of it. "

A monitress had been dispatched to fetch Honor back, but in a shorttime she returned alone, and reported that she could not find her. MissMaitland made no comment, and as the meal was now over she gave thesignal of dismissal. Most of the girls went to the recreation room, butMaisie Talbot, who had not yet quite concluded her unpacking, ranstraight upstairs. Noticing something move behind a curtain in thecorner of the bedroom, she pulled it aside. There was Honor, sitting ina queer little heap on the floor, and rubbing her eyes in a verysuggestive manner. She jumped up in a moment, however, and pretendedthat she was only arranging her boots. 

"I'd finished tea, " she remarked airily, "so I thought I might as wellempty my box, and put my dresses away in my wardrobe. "

"You'll have to ask Miss Maitland's leave next time, before you marchout of the room, or you'll get into trouble, " said Maisie. "If itweren't your first evening, you'd be expected to make a public apology. Of course, Flossie Taylor and the Hammond-Smiths were aggravating, butyou should just have laughed at them, and then they'd have stopped. Wedon't behave like kindergarten children here. "

Maisie spoke scathingly. She was a girl who had scant sympathy withwhat she called "babyishness", and disliked any exhibition of feeling. And, after all, she only voiced the general opinion of the school, which, by an unwritten law, had established a calm imperturbation asthe height of good breeding. 

"I don't care in the least what any of you think!" retorted Honor, andshe hung up her skirt with such a jerk that she broke the loop. 

Yet, although she spoke lightly, she evidently did care. She was veryquiet indeed all the rest of the evening, and hardly spoke atrecreation. Chatty Burns sat down next to her and tried to begin aconversation, but Honor answered so briefly that she very soon gave upthe effort in despair, and moved away; while the other girls were sointerested in their own affairs that they did not trouble to remembertheir new schoolfellow. At nine o'clock prayers were read, andeverybody went upstairs to bed. 

When the lights were out, and the room was in perfect silence, astrange, suppressed noise issued from Honor's corner. It might, ofcourse, have been snoring; and Honor explained elaborately next morningthat Irish people often have a peculiar way of breathing in theirsleep--an affection from which she sometimes suffered herself. 

"All the same, I don't quite believe her, " confided Pauline Reynolds, who occupied the next cubicle, to Lettice Talbot, a more sympatheticcharacter than her sister Maisie. "I know what it is to feel home-sick, and to smother one's nose in the pillow! If that wasn't sobbing, it wasas like it as anything I've ever heard in my life. "

CHAPTER II

Honor's Home

For a full understanding of Honor Fitzgerald we must go back a fewweeks, and see her in that Irish home which was so far away and soutterly different from Chessington College. Kilmore Castle was a great, rambling, old-fashioned country house, built beside an inland creek ofthe sea, and sheltered by a range of hills from the wild winds ofKerry. To Honor that was the dearest and most beautiful spot in theworld. She loved every inch of it--the silvery strips of water that ledbetween bold, rocky headlands out to the broad Atlantic; the tallmountain peaks that showed so rugged an outline against the sky; thebrown, peat-stained river that came brawling down from the uplands, andpoured itself noisily into the creek; the wide, lonely moors, withtheir stretches of brilliant green grass and dark, treacherous bogpools; and the craggy cliffs that made a barrier against theever-dashing waves, and round which thousands of sea birds flew, withharsh cries and whir of white wings. 

Its situation at the end of a long peninsula made Kilmore Castle anisolated little kingdom of its own. On the shore stood a row of low, fishermen's white-washed cabins, dignified by the name of "thevillage"; but otherwise there was no human habitation in sight, andBallycroghan, the market town and nearest postal, railway, andtelegraph station, was ten miles off. 

Trees were rarities at Kilmore; a few stunted specimens, all blown oneway by the prevailing gale, grew as if huddled together for protectionat the foot of the glen, but they were the exception that proved therule; nevertheless, under the sheltering walls of the Castle Mrs. Fitzgerald had managed to acclimatize some exotic shrubs, and tocultivate quite a beautiful garden of flowers, for the temperature wasuniformly mild, though the winds were boisterous. Brilliant St. Brigid's anemones, the poet's narcissus, tulips, jonquils, andhyacinths bloomed here almost as early as in the Scilly Isles, and madepatches of fragrant brightness under the sitting-room windows; while inthe crannies of the walls might be seen delicate maidenhair and otherferns, too tender generally to stand a winter in the open. 

Born and bred in this far-away corner of the world, Honor had grown upalmost a child of nature. Her whole life had been spent as much aspossible out-of-doors, boating, fishing, or swimming in the creek;driving in a low-backed car over the rough Kerry roads; galloping hershaggy little pony on the moors; following the otter hounds up theriver, and sharing in any sport that her father considered suitable forher age and sex. She was the only girl among five brothers, and in hermother's opinion was by far the most difficult to manage of the wholeflock. All the wild Irish blood of the family seemed to have settled inher; the high spirits, the fire, the pride, the quick temper, theimpatience of control, the happy-go-lucky, idle, irresponsible ways ofa long line of hot-headed ancestors had skipped a generation or two, and, as if they had been bottling themselves up during the interval, had reappeared with renewed force in this particular specimen of theFitzgerald race. 

"She's more trouble than the five boys put together, " her mother oftendeclared, and her friends cordially agreed with her. Mrs. Fitzgeraldherself was a mild, quiet, nervous, delicate lady, as much astonishedat her lively, tempestuous daughter as a meek little hedge-sparrowwould be, that had hatched a young cuckoo. Frankly, she did notunderstand Honor, whose strong, uncontrolled character differed soentirely from her own gentle, clinging, dependent disposition; andwhose storms of grief or anger, wild fits of waywardness and equallypassionate repentance, and self-willed disobedience, alternating withsudden bursts of reformation, were a constant source of worry andanxiety, and the direct opposite of her ideal of girlhood. Poor Mrs. Fitzgerald would have liked a docile, tractable daughter, who wouldhave been content to sit beside her sofa doing fancy work, instead ofriding to hounds; and who would have had more consideration for herweak state of health. She appreciated Honor's warm-hearted affection tothe full, but at the same time wished she could make her realize thatrough hugs, boisterous kisses, and loud tones were hardly suitable toan invalid. Suffering as she was from a painful and incurablecomplaint, it was sometimes impossible for her to admit Honor to hersick-room, and for weeks together the girl would hardly see her mother. It was through no lack of love that Honor had failed to give thatservice and tenderness which, in the circumstances, an only daughtermight so fitly have rendered; it was from sheer want of thought, andgeneral heedlessness. Some girls early acquire a sense ofresponsibility and care for others, but in Honor these qualities wereas undeveloped as in a child of six. 

Many were the governesses who had attempted to tame the young rebel, and bring her into a state of law and order, but all had been equalfailures. She had learnt lessons when she felt inclined, and left themundone when she was idle; and she had managed to make life in theschoolroom such a purgatory that it had been difficult to persuade anyteacher to stay long at the Castle, and cope with so thankless a taskas her education. 

It had been of little use to complain to her father, the only person inthe world whose authority she recognized; he was proud of his handsomedaughter, and, except when her temper crossed his own, was apt toindulge her in most of her whims. Matters had at last, however, come toa crisis. An act of more than usual assumption on Honor's part hadaroused Major Fitzgerald's utmost indignation, and had caused himsuddenly to decide that she was spoiling at home, and that the onlypossible solution of the difficulty was to dispatch her to school assoon as the necessary arrangements could be made for her departure. 

The incident that led to this resolution was very characteristic ofHonor's headstrong, impulsive nature. She was passionately fond ofhorses, and for some time had been anxious to possess a new pony. Itwas not that she loved Pixie, her former favourite, any the less; buthe was growing old, and was now scarcely able to take a fence, or carryher in mad career over the moors, being only fit for a sober trot onthe high road, or to draw her mother's Bath chair round the garden. Toobtain a strong, well-bred, fiery substitute for Pixie was the summitof Honor's ambition. One day, when she was with her father atBallycroghan, she saw exactly the realization of her ideal. It was asmall black cob, which showed a trace of Arab blood in its archingneck, slender limbs, and easy, springy motion. Though its bright eyesproved its high spirit, it was nevertheless as gentle as a lamb, andwell accustomed to carrying a lady. Its owner, a local horse-dealer, was anxious to sell it, and pressed Major Fitzgerald to take it as abargain. Honor simply fell in love with it on the spot. She ascertainedthat its name was Firefly, and begged and besought her father to buy itfor her. But on this occasion he would not yield, even to her utmostcoaxing. He did not wish to keep another pony in the stable, and heconsidered the price asked was excessive, and entirely beyond thepresent limits of his purse. 

"No, Honor, it can't be done, " he said. "You must be content with poorold Pixie. I have quite enough expenses just now, without running intosuch an extravagance. "

"But couldn't I have it instead of something else?" pleaded Honor. 

"There's nothing we could knock off, dear child, " replied her father. 

"I could do without a governess, " suggested Honor hopefully. "I'd setmyself my own lessons, and learn them too. Oh, Daddy, darling, if wegave up Miss Bury, wouldn't you have money enough to buy Firefly?"

Major Fitzgerald laughed in spite of himself. 

"I consider Miss Bury a necessity, and not a luxury, " he replied. "Agoverness is the very last person we could dispense with. I should liketo see you setting your own lessons! Remarkably short and easy onesthey would be! No, little woman, I'm afraid Firefly is animpossibility, and you must just try to forget his existence. "

Unfortunately, that was exactly what Honor could not do. She thoughtcontinually about the beautiful black cob, and the more she dwelt onher disappointment the more keenly she felt it. She considered, mostunreasonably, that her governess was the alternative of the pony, andthat if she were without the one she might possibly acquire the other. Her behaviour had never been exemplary, but on the strength of thisgrievance she grew so unruly, so disrespectful, and so absolutelyunmanageable that Miss Bury at length refused to teach her any longer, and, after an interview with Major Fitzgerald in the library, packedher boxes and returned home to England. 

Honor viewed her exodus with keen delight. It seemed the removal of anobstacle to her plan. She went in to luncheon determined to broach oncemore the subject of Firefly, hoping this time to meet with bettersuccess. She saw at once, however, from her father's face, that he wasnot in a suitable mood to grant her any favour. He was much annoyed atthe governess's departure, for which he had the justice to blame Honoralone; and he was worried with business matters. 

"That tiresome agent has not sent the telegram I expected, " heannounced. "I shall be obliged to go over to Cork, to consult mysolicitor. Tell Murphy to have the trap ready by two o'clock, and letHolmes pack my bag. I shall probably be away until Friday evening. "

As soon as her father had started for the station, Honor sauntered outin the direction of the stables. It was one of her mother's bad days. Mrs. Fitzgerald was confined to her room, therefore Honor, releasedfrom Miss Bury's authority, felt herself her own mistress. FindingFergus, the groom, she ordered him to saddle Pixie, and make ready toaccompany her on a ride. Fergus was devoted to "Miss Honor", and wouldnever have dreamt of disputing any command she might give him; beforethree o'clock, therefore, her pony was at the door, and, dressed in herneat blue habit, she was ambling away in the direction of Ballycroghan. It was a leisurely progress, for poor Pixie's gait was slow, in spiteof his best endeavours, and Honor loved him too well to urge him hard. 

She was determined to call at the horse-dealer's, and to ascertain ifFirefly were still for sale. Perhaps, when her father returned home, she might catch him at a favourable moment, and be able to cajole himinto changing his mind and buying the cob. Mr. O'Connor, thehorse-dealer, lived at a large farm on the way to the town, and, toHonor's intense delight, the first object that met her eyes onapproaching the house was Firefly, feeding demurely in a paddock to theleft of the road. By an equally lucky chance Mr. O'Connor happened tobe at home, and came hurrying out at once when he saw "one of thequality", as he expressed it, drawing bridle at his door. 

"Good afternoon! I see you still have the black cob, " began Honoreagerly. 

"Yes, missy, " replied the horse-dealer, "and I was thinking of sendinga message to your father about him this very day. It's the good fortuneto see you here! I've had a man over from Limerick who's anxious totake him--a tradesman who'd run him in a light cart--but I didn't closethe bargain at once. I said to my wife: 'Firefly is too good a breed tocarry out groceries. I'd rather be for selling him to the Castle. MissFitzgerald took the fancy for him, and I'll not be parting with himtill I've had word again from the Major. ' Maybe his honour will bewanting him, after all? But sure I must know at once, for the Limerickman will be here at noon to-morrow, and I've promised to tell him oneway or another. "

"Could you possibly wait until Saturday?" asked Honor. 

The dealer shook his head. 

"I can't afford to miss a sale, " he replied. "I've had the cob on myhands for some time; it's just eating its head off, and it's anxious Iam to get rid of it. "

Honor was in a fever of excitement. Firefly, so spirited and soaristocratic, whose delicately shaped limbs looked only fit for leapingbrooks, or cantering over the short grass on the uplands, to be sold toa tradesman, and to run between the shafts of a cart that deliveredgroceries! It seemed a degradation and an outrage. She could not dreamof allowing it; she must save him at any cost from such a fate. 

"Must you absolutely have an answer to-day?" she asked. 

"Yes, missy. I fear I couldn't put off Sullivan any longer than noonto-morrow. He's a touchy man, and ready to carry his businesselsewhere. "

"Very well, then, that settles the matter. We will take the cob. Youmay send him over to the Castle this evening. "

[Illustration: HONOR CONCLUDES THE PURCHASE OF FIREFLY]

Honor spoke in such a high-handed manner that the dealer never guessedshe was acting on her own authority. As she had made a special visit tothe farm, accompanied by her groom, he imagined she must have beenentrusted by Major Fitzgerald with full powers to buy the pony if shewished. 

"Many thanks to you, missy! It's the fine mistress you'll make forFirefly. My respects to his honour, and the price shall be the same asI was asking him before. "

The price! Honor had quite forgotten that. Weighed against Firefly'spossible future, it had seemed an unimportant detail. She rememberednow, however, that her father had considered it extravagant, anddeclared he could not afford it. The thought was sufficient to checkher joy suddenly, and to send her home in a sober frame of mind thatwas well justified by the sequel. 

Major Fitzgerald's wrath, when he arrived on the Friday and found theblack cob installed in the stable, was more serious than his daughterhad ever experienced before. 

"It was a piece of unwarranted presumption!" he declared. "I shall notallow you to keep the pony. It must be sent back to O'Connor's, andresold at the first opportunity. As for you, the sooner you are packedoff to school the better. We have indulged you too much at home, and itis time indeed that you learnt to submit to some kind of discipline. "

The proposal to send her away to school was a terrible blow to Honor. At first she appealed to her mother, begging her to plead with herfather and try to persuade him to alter his resolution. But Mrs. Fitzgerald, while regretting to part with her troublesome daughter, wasso convinced of the wisdom of the proceeding that, instead ofinterceding, she applauded her husband's decision. 

"I can't ever like England!" sobbed Honor. "I'd rather have ourmountains and lakes and bogs than all the grand streets and houses. I'mIrish to the core, and I don't believe any school over the water canchange me. There's no place in the world like Kilmore. I love even thecabins, and the peat fires, and the pigs, and the potatoes! I shan'tforget a single stick or stone of it, and I shall never know a moment'shappiness till I'm home again. "

After considerable hesitation, and the examination of a large number ofprospectuses, Major and Mrs. Fitzgerald had determined to send Honor toChessington College. It had a wide and well-deserved reputation, andMiss Cavendish, the principal, was understood to give much individualattention to the characters and dispositions of her pupils. Added tothis, it was situated within a few miles of the Naval PreparatorySchool where Dermot, Honor's younger brother, had been for the last twoyears; so that they knew from experience that the neighbourhood wasbracing and healthy. 

"It's a comfort, at any rate, that I shall be near Dermot, " said Honor, as she sat watching while her mother superintended the maid who waspacking her boxes. 

"I'm afraid you won't see much of him, dear, during term-time, " repliedMrs. Fitzgerald. "He will not be able to visit you, I'm sure; neitherwill Miss Cavendish allow you to go out with him. "

"Why not?" demanded Honor. 

"Because it would be against the rules. "

"Then the rules are absurd, and I shan't keep them. "

"Honor! Honor! Don't speak like that! You have run wild here, but atChessington College you will be obliged to fall in with the ordinaryregulations. "

"They'll have hard work to tame me, Mother!" laughed Honor, jumping upand dancing a little impromptu jig between the boxes. "I don't want togo, but since I must, I mean to get any enjoyment I can out of it. After all, perhaps it may be rather fun. It's deadly dull heresometimes, when the boys are at school, and Father is busy or away. "

Mrs. Fitzgerald sighed. In her delicate health she could scarcelyexpect to be a companion for Honor, yet when she thought of how fewyears might be left them together, the parting seemed bitter, and shewas hurt that her only daughter would evidently miss her so little. Young folks often say cruel things from mere thoughtlessness, andunintentionally grieve those who love them. In after years Honor wouldkeenly regret her tactless speech, and blame herself that she had notspent more hours in trying to be a comfort, instead of a care; but forthe present, though she noticed the look of disappointment that passedover the sensitive face, she did not fully realize its cause, and thewords that might have healed the wound went unspoken. 

At length the preparations were concluded, and the time had almostarrived to bid farewell to Kilmore Castle and the surrounding demesne. Honor's friends in the village mourned her approaching departure withcharacteristic Irish grief. 

"Miss Honor, darlint, it's meself that will be hungerin' for a sight ofyez!" cried old Mary O'Grady, standing at the doorway of her thatchedcabin, from which the blue peat smoke issued like a thin mist. 

"And it's grand news entoirely they'll be afther tellin' me too, thatye're lavin' the Castle, and goin' over the seas!" put in BiddyMacarthy, a next-door neighbour of Mary's. "It's fine to think of allthe iligant things ye'll be seein' now!"

"Bless your bright eyes, it's many a sad heart ye'll lave behind yez!"added Pat Conolly, the oldest tenant on the estate. 

"England can never compare with dear Ireland, in my opinion, " repliedHonor, with a choke in her voice. "There's no spot so sweet as Kilmore, and all the while I'm away I shall be wishing myself back in the 'ouldcounthree'!"

"Will ye be despisin' this bit of a present, Miss Honor?" said oldMary, producing a cardboard box, from which, out of many folds oftissue paper, she proudly displayed a large bunch of imitationfour-leaved shamrock. "My grandson Micky brought it for me all the wayfrom Dublin city, and I've kept it fine and new in its papers. Sure, Iknow it's not worthy of offerin' to a young lady like yourself, butI'll take it kindly if ye'll deign to accept it. "

"Of course I'll accept it!" returned Honor heartily. "It's very kind ofyou to give it to me. It shall go to school with me, as a remembranceof Ireland, and of you all. "

"The four-leaved shamrock brings good luck to its wearer, mavourneen;may it bring it to you! And whenever ye look at the little greenleaves, give a thought to the true hearts that will be ay wishin' ye aspeedy return. "

The last day came all too soon, and Mrs. Fitzgerald, with tears in hereyes, stood at her window, watching the disappearing carriage in whichHonor sat by her father's side, waving an energetic good-bye. 

"Surely, " she said to herself, "school will have the influence that weexpect! The general atmosphere of law and order, the well-arrangedrules, the esprit de corps and strict discipline of the games, allcannot fail to have their effect; and among so large a number ofcompanions, and in the midst of so many new and absorbing interests, mywild bird will find her wings clipped, and will settle down sensiblyand peaceably among the others. "

CHAPTER III

The Wearing of the Green

Chessington College stood on a breezy slope midway between the hillsand the sea, and about a mile from the rising watering-place ofDunscar. It was a famous spot for a school, as the fresh winds comingeither from the uplands or from the wide expanse of channel weresufficient to blow away all chance of germs, and to ensure a thoroughlywholesome and bracing atmosphere. The College prided itself upon itsrecord of health; Miss Cavendish considered no other girls were sostraight and well-grown as hers, with such bright eyes, such clearskins, and such blooming cheeks. Ventilation, sea baths, and suitablediet were her three watchwords, and thanks to them the sanatorium atthe farther side of the shrubbery scarcely ever opened its doors toreceive a patient, while the hospital nurse who was retained in case ofemergencies found her position a sinecure. 

The buildings were modern and up-to-date, with all the latestappliances and improvements. They were provided with steam heat andelectric light; and the gymnasium, chemical laboratory, and practicaldemonstration kitchen were on the very newest of educational lines. Theschool covered a large space, and was built in the form of a square. Inthe middle was a great, gravelled quadrangle, where hockey could bepractised on days when the fields were too wet for playing. At one endstood the big lecture-hall, the chapel, the library, and the variousclassrooms, the whole surmounted by a handsome clock tower; whileopposite was the School House, where Miss Cavendish herself presidedover a chosen fifty of her two hundred pupils. The two sides of thesquare were occupied by four houses, named respectively St. Aldwyth's, St. Hilary's, St. Chad's, and St. Bride's, each being in charge of amistress, and capable of accommodating from thirty to forty girls. Though the whole school met together every day for lessons, the membersof each different house resembled a separate family, and were keenlyanxious to maintain the honour of their particular establishment. MissCavendish did not wish to excite rivalry, yet she thought a spirit offriendly emulation was on the whole salutary, and encouraged matchesbetween the various house teams, or competitions among the choral anddebating societies. The rules for all were exactly similar. Everymorning, at a quarter to seven, a clanging bell rang in the passagesfor a sufficient length of time to disturb even the soundest ofslumbers; breakfast was at half-past seven, and at half-past eighteverybody was due in chapel for a short service; lectures and classesoccupied the morning from nine till one, and the afternoon was devotedto games; tea was at four, and supper at half-past seven, withpreparation in between; and after that hour came sewing and recreation, until bedtime. It was a well-arranged and reasonable division of time, calculated to include right proportions of work and play. _Mens sanain corpore sano_ was Miss Cavendish's favourite motto, and the cleanbill of health, the successes in examinations, and the high moral tonethat prevailed throughout pointed to the fulfilment of her ideal. Mostof the girls were thoroughly happy at Chessington College, and, thoughit is in girl nature to grumble at rules and lessons, there wasscarcely one who would have cared to leave it if she had been given theopportunity. 

It was to this new, interesting, and exciting world of school thatHonor unclosed her eyes on the morning after her arrival. She openedthem sleepily, and, I regret to say, promptly shut them again, andturned over comfortably in bed, regardless of the vigorous bell thatwas delivering its warning in the passage. Punctuality had not beencounted a cardinal virtue at Kilmore Castle, and she saw no specialnecessity for rising until she felt inclined. She had just dropped offagain into a delicious doze when once more her peace was rudelydisturbed. The curtain of her cubicle was drawn back, and three livelyfaces made their appearance. 

"Look here! Don't you know it's time to get up?" said Maisie Talbot, administering a vigorous poke that would have roused the Seven Sleepersof legendary lore, and caused even Honor to yawn. 

"You'll be fined a penny if you're late for breakfast, " added Lettice, "and that's a very unsatisfactory way of disposing of one'spocket-money. "

"And makes Miss Maitland particularly irate, " said Pauline Reynolds. 

"Honor Fitzgerald! do you intend to get up, or do you not? Because ifyou don't, we shall have to try 'cold pig'!" Then, as there were nosigns of movement, Lettice carried out her threat by dabbing a wetsponge full in Honor's face, while at the same moment Maisie wrenchedback the bed-clothes with a relentless hand. 

"We're doing you a real kindness, so you needn't be cross, Miss PaddyPepper-box!" said Lettice. "Just wait till you've seen Miss Maitlandscowl at a late-comer, and you'll give us a vote of thanks. "

"I'm not cross, " said Honor, laughing in spite of the violation of herslumbers. Lettice spoke so merrily, it was impossible to take offence, even at the nickname. "But I think you use rather summary measures. Thesponge was horribly cold and nasty. "

"It's the only way to get people to bestir themselves, " said Letticecomplacently. "I've had experience with sleepy room-mates before. "

"We always try the water cure at St. Chad's, " added Maisie. "We'vegiven you quite mild treatment, as it was a first case; we might haveused your bedroom jug, instead of a sponge. "

Owing to her companions' efforts, Honor was in time for breakfast--afortunate circumstance for her, as, after the episode at the tea-tableon the preceding evening, her house-mistress would not have been readyto overlook any deficiency in punctuality. 

There was always a short recess between breakfast and chapel, which thegirls called a "breathing space", and during which they could reviseexercises, sharpen lead pencils, and take a last peep at lessons. Thismorning everybody seemed to be assembling in the dressing-room for thisbrief interval, and there Honor repaired with the others. 

"I hear you've been put in the Lower Third, Paddy, " said LetticeTalbot. "Vivian Holmes told me so just now. It's my form. Maisie andPauline are in it too. "

"Isn't Maisie above you?" asked Honor, looking at the sisters, theelder of whom overtopped the younger by nearly a head. "She is ininches, at any rate. "

"I'm only a year older than Lettice, though I am so much taller, "explained Maisie. "I suppose I ought to be in a higher form, but shealways manages to catch me up. I make up my mind every term I'm goingto win a double remove and leave her behind, yet somehow it neverhappens to come off. I'm much better at cricket and hockey than atFrench and algebra. But after all, it's rather convenient to have herin the same form: she's sure to remember what the lesson is when Iforget, and I can borrow her books if I lose my own. "

"Yes, I have to work for both, " complained Lettice. "Maisie won't evencopy her exercise questions; she always relies on me. "

Maisie certainly made her younger sister useful. She expected her tofetch and carry, tidy both their cubicles, and generally maintain avery subservient and inferior position. On the other hand, though shetyrannized over Lettice herself, she would not allow anybody else to doso, and was ready to take her part and fight her battles against thewhole school. 

"I'm glad we're in the same class, " remarked Honor, with an approvingglance at Lettice's round, smiling face. "Perhaps I shall ask you tocopy the exercise questions too. My memory is not particularly goodwhere lessons are concerned. Who else is in the Lower Third?"

"Ruth Latimer, my greatest chum. "

"We allow ourselves chums, " put in Maisie, "but we're not at allromantic at Chessington. We don't swear eternal friendships, andexchange locks of hair, and walk about the College with our armsclasped round each other's necks, and write each other sentimentalnotes, with 'sweetest' and 'darling' and 'fondest love' in them. That'swhat Miss Maitland calls 'early Victorian'. We're very matter of facthere. Still, when we choose a chum we generally stick to her, and don'tgo in for all that nonsense of 'getting out of friends', or notspeaking, as they do at some schools. "

Honor was about to ask more questions, but at that moment VivianHolmes, the monitress and head girl of the house, came bustling intothe room. 

"You haven't got your sailor and jersey yet, Honor Fitzgerald, " shesaid. "Miss Maitland asked me to give them to you. Here they are, bothmarked with your name, so that they needn't be mixed up with anybodyelse's. You're to take this hook, and this compartment for your shoes, and this locker to keep your books in. I've put labels on them all. "

Honor looked without enthusiasm at the knitted woollen coat, and withmarked disfavour at the white sailor hat, with its band of orangeribbon. 

"I can't wear that!" she ejaculated. 

"Why not?" enquired Vivian, in surprise. 

"There's an orange band round it. "

"Orange is the St. Chad's colour, " explained Vivian. "We all haveexactly the same hats at Chessington, but each house has its ownspecial ribbon--blue for the School House, pink for St. Aldwyth's, scarlet for St. Hilary's, and violet for St. Bride's. I thought youknew that already. "

"If I had, I'd have insisted upon going to another house, " declaredHonor tragically. "You ask me to wear orange? Why, the very name of'Orangeman' sets my teeth on edge. I'm a Nationalist to the last dropof my blood; we all are, down in Kerry. "

Vivian smiled. 

"Don't be absurd!" she said, in rather an off-hand manner. "Our hatshave nothing whatever to do with politics. Here are two long pins, butif you prefer an elastic you can stitch one on, " and without deigningto argue further she walked away. 

Honor stood turning the hat round and round, with a very queerexpression on her face. She was a devoted daughter of Erin. Hercountry's former glories and the possible brilliance of its future as aseparate kingdom could always provoke her wildest enthusiasm; to beasked, therefore, to don the colour which in her native land stood asthe symbol of the union with England, and for direct opposition tonational independence, seemed to her little short of an insult to herdear Emerald Isle. There were still five minutes left before she needstart for chapel, so, making up her mind suddenly, she rushed upstairsto her bedroom. She would show these Saxons that she was a true Celt!They might compel her to wear their emblem of bondage, but it should bewith an addition that would proclaim her patriotic sentiments to theworld. 

Hurriedly hunting in her top drawer, she produced a yard of vivid greenribbon and the bunch of imitation shamrock that old Mary O'Grady hadgiven her as a parting present. Then she set to work on a piece ofamateur millinery. There was little time to use needle and thread, butwith the aid of pins she managed to twist the ribbon into severalloops, and to fasten the shamrock conspicuously in front. She looked atthe result of her labours with great approval. 

"One could almost imagine it was St. Patrick's Day, " she said toherself. "Nobody could possibly mistake me now for a Unionist. I'mlabelled 'Home Rule' as plainly as can be. " Then, hastily pinning onher hat before the mirror, she ran downstairs, humming under her breath:

 "So we'll bide our time; our banner yet And motto shall be seen, And voices shout the chorus out, 'The Wearin' o' the Green'!"

The girls at Chessington College were all dressed exactly alike, in auniform costume of blue serge skirts, with blue or white cotton blousesfor summer, and flannel ones for winter. On Sundays they wore whiteserge coats and skirts, and for evenings white muslin or nuns' veiling. They were allowed a little latitude in the way of embroideries withrespect to best frocks, but their everyday, ordinary clothes wererequired to be of the school pattern, with the addition of sailor hatsand knitted coats, for use in running across the quadrangle on wet orcold days. Miss Cavendish considered that this rule encouragedsimplicity, and provided against any undue extravagance in the matterof dress. She did not allow rings or bracelets to be worn, and the solevanity permitted to the girls was in the choice of their hair ribbons. 

Punctually at twenty-five minutes past eight each morning the bell inthe little chapel began to give warning, and by half-past every memberof the school was expected to have taken her seat, and to be ready forthe short service held there daily by the senior curate of the parishchurch at Dunscar. In twos and threes and small groups the girls camehurrying in answer to the call of the tinkling bell. Though theylaughed and talked as they ran across the quadrangle, they sobered downas they neared the door, and, each taking a Prayer Book from a pilelaid ready in the porch, passed silently and reverently into thechapel. Every house had its own special rows of seats, and the sailorhats that mingled like a kaleidoscope in the grounds were here dividedinto their several sets of colours, though sometimes varied by a gleamof ruby or amber falling from the stained-glass windows above. Thesinging was musical and the responses hearty, while into his fiveminutes' explanation of the lesson for the day the clergyman generallymanaged to compress much helpful thought, sending away some, at least, of his hearers braced up for the duties that awaited them. 

On this particular morning anyone accustomed to the ordinary atmosphereof the place might have been aware that something of an unusualcharacter was in the air. 

There was an undercurrent of unrest, a turning of heads, a subduedrustling, even an occasional whisper; and the head mistress, realizingat last that some outside cause must be distracting the minds of herpupils, glanced up, and, following the direction of all eyes, saw asight that filled her with unfeigned astonishment. Among the neat rowsof orange-banded sailor hats in the benches marked "St. Chad's" was onetrimmed with large and obtrusive knots of emerald-green ribbon, whichdrooped over the brim, while a bunch of imitation shamrock finished thefront. It seemed to stand out so conspicuously from its fellows that itresembled a succulent palm tree growing in the midst of a sandy desert, and could not fail to attract the attention of the whole school. Howsuch an irregularity had crept in amongst the uniforms of the collegeMiss Cavendish could not comprehend; it must form the subject of anafter enquiry, and in the meantime, stilling with a reproachful glancea faint whisper in her vicinity, she joined in the singing of a psalmwith her usual clear intonation. When the service was over, however, and the girls began to file away in orderly line, she spoke a few, rapid words to a monitress, who at once passed quickly out by a sidedoor. 

As the extraordinary green hat made its appearance in the quadrangle itwas greeted with quite a buzz of excitement by the girls assembledoutside. Only a few of them, comparatively, knew Honor by sight, andthe rest were asking who she was, and to which house she belonged. Thecommon feeling was distinctly unfavourable. Apart from the unseemlinessof such an exhibition in a sacred place, new girls were not expected tomake themselves conspicuous, or to introduce innovations; either wasconsidered an impertinence on their part: so the general verdict wasthat Honor had done a dreadful thing, and public opinion was deadagainst her. She, however, held up her head as proudly as though herabsurd hat had been the latest creation from Bond Street. 

"It's a tribute to my native land!" she said airily, in response to achorus of questions. "Sorry you don't like it, but it's my firstattempt at hat-trimming, and I flattered myself it wasn't bad for abeginner. St. Patrick for ever! I made up my mind before I started thatI'd keep up the credit of the shamrock on this side of the water, andI've done my best. Hurrah for old Ireland!" Then, as if her feelingswere absolutely too much for her, she took her skirt in her hands, andbegan to dance an old-fashioned Kerry hornpipe, humming a lively Irishtune to supply the music. 

The girls stared in amazement at the mad performance. "She's showingoff!" declared some, but others laughed, and watched with a kind offascination, for the dance was striking and original, and the movementswere unusually graceful. 

Honor's triumph, however, was short-lived. Vivian Holmes forced her waythrough the crowd, and, laying her hand on the shoulder of theobstreperous new-comer, told her to report herself at once in MissCavendish's study. The lookers-on scuttled away to their classeswithout being told; they were half-ashamed of having taken so muchnotice of a new girl. Lettice Talbot, turning round, caught a glimpseof Honor walking blithely away, with a jaunty smile on her face. 

"As if a visit to the head mistress meant nothing at all!" she gasped. 

"She'll soon find out her mistake, " replied Ruth Latimer grimly. "MissCavendish can reduce one to a quaking jelly when she feels inclined. "

Honor was in one of her wildest, most reckless moods, and the prospectof a passage of arms with the principal of the College was as the callof battle to a knight of old. In her conflicts with her governesses athome she had invariably come off best, and it pleased her to think shehad now the opportunity of trying her will in opposition to that of theruler of this little kingdom. 

Miss Cavendish's study was a beautiful and unusual room. It was builtin accordance with an old-world design, and in shape resembled anancient chapter-house. The richly carved chimney-piece, the darkpanelling of the walls, and the straight-backed oak chairs helped tocarry out the prevailing note of mediaevalism, which was furtherenhanced by a large, stained-glass window, filled with figures ofsaints, that faced the doorway. To enter was like going into the peaceand serenity of some old cathedral, and, notwithstanding her defiantframe of mind, a feeling of something akin to reverence crept overHonor as she crossed the threshold. Her impressionable Celtictemperament could not fail to be influenced by outward surroundings:she had a great love of the beautiful, and this room satisfied heręsthetic tastes. 

[Illustration: AN INTERVIEW WITH MISS CAVENDISH]

The head mistress was standing beside the hearth, which, though devoidof fire at this season of the year, was piled up with newly cut logs. In her long, clinging black dress, the light from the halo of St. Aldwyth in the window falling on her regular Greek features, andtouching with a ruddier gleam the pale gold of her rippling hair, MissCavendish looked an imposing and commanding figure. Born of a goodfamily, the daughter of a high dignitary of the Church, she was bynature a student, and after a brilliant career at Girton she had for atime devoted herself to scientific research, arousing much interest byher clever articles in various periodicals; but feeling that her truevocation was teaching, she had turned her attention to education, and, gaining a reputation in the scholastic world, had in course of timebeen elected as the principal of Chessington College, a post which shefilled with dignity, and greatly to the satisfaction of both governorsand parents. Not a remarkably tender woman, she was perhaps morerespected than loved by her pupils; but she had great powers ofadministration, and managed to impress upon her girls a strict sense ofduty and responsibility, a love of work, a fine perception of honour, and a desire to keep up the high tone and prestige of the school. 

She turned her clear, cold blue eyes on Honor, as the latter enteredthe room, with a scrutinizing gaze, so comprehensive and so full ofauthority that, despite her intention of showing a bold front, the girlinvoluntarily quailed. 

"Come here, Honor Fitzgerald, " began Miss Cavendish, in a calm, measured tone. "I wish you to explain to me why you have taken it uponyourself to alter the costume which, you are well aware, is obligatoryfor all attending the College. "

"I can't wear orange, " replied Honor, plucking up her courage for thebattle; "it's against my principles. "

"There are right principles and wrong principles; we will decidepresently to which class yours belong. On what grounds do you raiseyour objection?"

"I'm Irish, " said Honor briefly, "so I prefer green. "

"That is no reason. We have many nationalities here, and do you imaginethat every girl can be permitted to carry out her individual taste?Tell me why you suppose such a rule was framed. "

"I don't know, " returned Honor rebelliously. 

"Then you must think, for I require an answer. "

Honor stared at the fireplace, at the bookcase, with its richly boundvolumes; at the window, where the red robe of St. Hilary made such aglorious spot of colour; at the table, covered with books and papers;and finally her glance went back to the head mistress, whose eyes werestill fixed on her with that steady, embarrassing gaze. 

"Was it to make everybody look alike?" she replied at last, almost asif the words were dragged from her lips. 

"Exactly! Then, to return to my original question, why, knowing thisfact, did you presume to break the rule?"

Honor was again silent. Somehow her intended bravery seemed to deserther. 

"I met your father, Major Fitzgerald, yesterday, " continued MissCavendish. "I understand that he held a command in the Royal MunsterFusiliers, and did splendid service in the Boer War. Kindly tell mewhat explanation he would have given to his general if he had appearedat church parade minus his uniform. "

"Oh, but he wouldn't have done that!" exclaimed Honor in horror. 

"Why not?"

"Why! because he is a soldier. How could he? The uniform is part of theservice. "

"And what is the first duty of a soldier?"

"To obey orders, " answered Honor, with a spark of apprehension in hereyes. 

"You are right. Now, what would happen to a regiment if eachindividual, instead of obeying his superior officer, were to follow hisown inclinations?"

"It would go to pieces. "

"And what occurs when a soldier commits any breach of regulations?"

"He is court-martialled and punished. "

"Is that just?"

"Yes. "

"But why?"

"Oh, because--because--it's the Army, and they must! There couldn't beany discipline without. "

"Exactly! You are an officer's daughter, and you evidently appreciatethe vast importance of good discipline. Now, we are a little army here. Every girl, as a member of this community, is bound to preserve itsrules, which have been wisely framed, and deserve to be faithfullykept. You have been guilty of a very grave breach of our regulations, and by your own showing you merit punishment. Do you consider this tobe just?"

"Yes, " returned Honor, meeting the head mistress's look firmly. 

"We have an esprit de corps at the College, " continued Miss Cavendish, "which makes each girl anxious to keep up the credit and prestige ofthe school. When you have been here a short time, and have learnt thetone of the place, I believe and trust that you will be truly ashamedof the remembrance of your appearance in chapel this morning. It is forthis reason I shall not punish you, though you have yourselfacknowledged that punishment would be only an act of justice. As forthe matter of principle to which you referred, so far from advancingthe good fame of your country, you were bringing it into disrepute. Ifyou imagine it was a particularly patriotic deed to flaunt the shamrockin a wrong place you are much mistaken. We have had Irish girls herebefore, and I have always been able to rely upon them for themaintenance of our high standard. You may go now, Honor, and removethat foolish trimming from your hat; and remember that, as you havebeen christened 'Honor', I shall expect you to live up to your name. "

Honor left the room more subdued than she would have cared toacknowledge. The calm, well-balanced arguments had completely disarmedher. She had entered in a reckless mood, almost anxious to be scolded, that she might have the chance of showing how little she cared; andnow, for perhaps the first time in her life, she had been compelled tothink seriously and sensibly upon a subject. 

Very few teachers would have taken the trouble to reason thus with apupil, but Miss Cavendish had her special method of education, andbelieved in paying particular attention to each girl's individuality. "Different plants require different cultivation, if you are to obtaingood results, " was one of her axioms. "You cannot successfully growroses and carnations with the same treatment. " She had seen at once, partly from her own observation and partly as the result of a talk withMajor Fitzgerald, that Honor was an unusual and difficult character;and she wished to obtain a hold over the girl's mind from the veryoutset. It was part of her system to train her pupils to keep rulesrather from a recognition of their justice and value than from a fearof punishment; therefore she regarded the ten minutes spent in thestudy as, not wasted time, but an opportunity of sowing good seed onhitherto neglected ground. 

Vivian Holmes was waiting for Honor outside the door of the study. After conducting her to the school dressing-room, she produced a pairof scissors and ripped the offending green trimming from the hat instony silence. 

"May I keep them?" Honor ventured to ask, for it went to her heart tosee her bunch of cherished shamrock torn ruthlessly from its place andflung aside. 

"As you like, " replied Vivian, "so long as they are not seen hereagain. " Then, with a look of utterly crushing scorn, she burst out:"You needn't think that what you have done is at all clever. It's notthe place of a new girl to show off in this way, and you'll gainnothing by it. I am responsible for St. Chad's, and I don't mean tohave this kind of nonsense going on there; so please understand, HonorFitzgerald, that if you give any more trouble, you may expect to findyourself thoroughly well sat upon!"

CHAPTER IV

Janie's Charge

The four-leaved shamrock having so far belied its reputation, andbrought bad luck instead of good upon its wearer, Honor put it away inher drawer, with the resolve not to test its powers again until she wasback in her own Emerald Isle, where, perhaps, it could exercise itsmagic more freely than in the land of the stranger. 

Her first day at school was satisfactory, in spite of its badbeginning. She took her place in her new class, and made theacquaintance of Miss Farrar, her Form mistress, and all the seventeengirls who composed the Lower Third Form. 

After the quiet and solitude of Kilmore Castle, to be at ChessingtonCollege seemed like plunging into the world. It was almost bewilderingto meet so many companions, all of whom were busily occupied withemployments into which she had not yet been initiated. It was anespecially fresh experience for Honor to belong to a class, instead oflearning from a private governess, and she much appreciated the change. It interested her to watch the faces of her schoolfellows, and tolisten to their recitations, or their replies to Miss Farrar'squestions. The strict discipline of the place astonished her: the readyanswers, the total lack of whispering, the way in which each girl satstraight at her desk, giving her whole attention to the subject inhand; the prompt obedience, even the orderly manner of filing out ofthe room for lunch, all were as unusual as they were amazing to one whohad hitherto behaved as she liked during lessons. She felt for thefirst time that she was a unit in a large community, and began to havesome dim perception of that esprit de corps to which Miss Cavendish hadreferred during their interview in the study. 

In spite of her previous laziness and neglect of work, Honor was a verybright girl, and she contrived even in that first morning to satisfyMiss Farrar that she was capable of doing well if she wished. Perhaps, after all, the four-leaved shamrock had sent her a little luck, for shehappened to remember a date which the rest of the Form had forgotten, and won corresponding credit in consequence. When one o'clock arrivedshe arranged her new textbooks and notebooks in the desk that had beenallotted to her next to Lettice Talbot. 

"Did you get into a fearful scrape with Miss Cavendish, Paddy?"whispered the latter eagerly. "Do tell me about it!"

But Honor pursed up her mouth and looked inscrutable. She was unwillingto divulge what had passed in the study, and Lettice's curiosity hadperforce to go unsatisfied. 

On her arrival at St. Chad's Honor had been given a spare cubicle inthe bedroom occupied by the Talbots and Pauline Reynolds. On thefollowing afternoon, however, Miss Maitland sent for Janie Henderson, agirl of nearly sixteen, and informed her that a fresh arrangement hadbeen made. 

"I am going to put you and Honor Fitzgerald together in the room overthe porch, " she said. "I hope that you will get on nicely, and becomefriends. I want you, Janie, to have a good influence over Honor, andhelp her to keep school rules. She does not yet know our St. Chad'sstandards, and has very much to learn. I give her into your chargebecause I am sure you are conscientious, and will try your best to makeher wish to improve and turn out a worthy Chaddite. You may carry yourthings into your new quarters during recreation-time. "

"Yes, Miss Maitland, " answered Janie, with due respect. She dared notdispute the mistress's orders, but inwardly she was anything butpleased. She did not wish to leave her present cubicle, and looked withdismay at the prospect of having to share a bedroom with this wildIrish girl, towards whom as yet she certainly felt no attraction. 

Janie Henderson had a painfully shy and reserved disposition. Hithertoshe had made no friends, invited no confidences, and "kept herself toherself" at St. Chad's. She was seldom seen walking with a companion, and during recreation generally buried herself in a book. Slight, pale, and narrow-chested, her constitution was not robust; and though a yearand a half at Chessington College had already worked a wonderfulimprovement, she was still far below the ordinary average of goodhealth. She was a quiet, mouse-like girl, who seldom obtruded herself, or took any prominent part in the life of St. Chad's--a girl who wascontinually in the background, and passed almost unnoticed among herschoolfellows. She had little self-confidence and a sensitive dread ofbeing laughed at, so for this reason she rarely offered a suggestion, or an opinion, unless invited. She often felt lonely at school, but hershyness prevented her from making advances, and so far nobody hadoffered her even the elements of friendship. It sometimes hurt her tobe thus entirely ignored and left out, but she had grown accustomed toit, and, shutting herself up in her shell, she followed the motto ofthe Miller of Dee:

 "I care for nobody, no, not I, Since nobody cares for me. "

She was obliged to share in the daily games, which were compulsory forall; but she never joined in the voluntary ones unless she werespecially asked to do so, to make up a side, and then she played withan utter lack of enthusiasm. "Moonie", as the girls called her, was abookworm pure and simple. She had read almost every volume in theschool library; it did not matter whether it were biography, travels, poetry, essays, or fiction, she would devour any literature that cameher way. She lived in an imaginary world, peopled by heroes andheroines of romance, who often seemed more real to her than herschoolmates, and certainly twice as interesting. Half the time she wentabout in a dream, and even during lesson hours she would let herthoughts drift far away to some exciting incident in a story, or somemental picture of her own. It appeared as if Miss Maitland could nothave picked out two more opposite and unsuitable girls to share abedroom than Honor Fitzgerald and Janie Henderson; but she had goodreasons for her choice. Not only did she hope that Janie's sober wayswould steady Honor, but she also thought that Honor's high spiritswould have a leavening effect upon Janie, who was sadly in need ofstirring up. 

"I wish I could shake the pair in a bag!" she confided to afellow-teacher. "It would be of the greatest advantage to both. "

There was at least one compensation to Janie for being obliged tochange her quarters. No. 8, the room over the porch, was a specialsanctum, much coveted by all the other Chaddites. It was arranged toaccommodate only two, instead of four, and was the beau-ideal of everypair of chums. It had a French window opening out on to a tiny balcony, and, having been originally intended for one of the mistresses, wasfurnished rather more luxuriously than the rest of the bedrooms. Therewas a handsome wall-paper, a full-length mirror in the wardrobe, acomfortable basket-chair, and also what appealed particularly toJanie--a large and inviting bookcase, with glass doors. She conductedher removal, therefore, with less dissatisfaction than she had at firstanticipated. 

"I call you lucky, " declared Lettice Talbot. "I only wish I could goinstead. Everyone on our landing is envying you. I shall be rathersorry to lose Paddy--I think she's a joke. "

"Especially as we're to have Flossie Taylor instead, " said PaulineReynolds. "It's a poor exchange. I can't stand Flossie; she givesherself airs. "

"She needn't put them on with us, " observed Maisie. "I've had a quarrelwith her already. She was actually trying to make Lettice pick up herballs for her at tennis!"

"Lettice always picks up yours, " suggested Pauline. 

"That's a totally different matter, " declared Maisie. 

"I wish Miss Maitland would have let Flossie join the Hammond-Smiths, "said Lettice. "I can't imagine why she is making such changes. Oh, here's Honor! Do you know, Paddy, you have got notice to quit?--infact, you're going to be evicted from No. 13. "

Honor had already been informed of the fact by the house-mistressherself. She appeared to take the news with the utmost sangfroid. 

"I don't care in the least which room I have, " she replied. "All Ibargain for is a room-mate who doesn't use 'cold pig' in the mornings. I haven't forgotten your wet sponge. "

"You ungrateful Paddy! It was for your good. "

"If you call me Paddy I shall call you Salad!"

"You can if you like. It's rather a pretty name, and has a juicy, succulent sound about it. "

"Make haste, Honor, and clear your drawers, " grunted Maisie. "Here'sFlossie Taylor coming down the passage with her arms full ofunder-linen. "

No. 8, like all other bedrooms at St. Chad's, was divided by a curtainthat could be drawn at pleasure. At present, however, this was pulledaside for the mutual convenience of the occupants of both cubicles. ToJanie the burning question to be decided was the possession of thebookcase. She tried to imagine that it was nearer her bed than Honor's, but justice forced her to come to the conclusion that it stood exactlyin the middle, between the two. With heroic self-denial she offered hercompanion the first choice of its shelves before she put away her ownlittle library. 

"But I haven't brought any books with me, " declared Honor. "You'rewelcome to the bookcase, so far as I'm concerned. We can take turns atthis luxury, " sinking into the basket-chair. 

"Don't you ever read?"

"Very seldom. "

Janie went on arranging her volumes in silence, the poets on the topshelf, by the side of her edition of Scott's novels, and themiscellaneous authors below. She touched each book tenderly, as thoughit were an old and dear friend, opening one occasionally to glance at afavourite passage; and she became so absorbed in her occupation thatshe utterly forgot Honor's presence. 

"There! I've stowed away all my possessions, " remarked the latter atlast. "I don't know whether Miss Maitland judges a room by a tidybookcase. She said she was coming up presently, to see if we had putour things straight. "

Janie started guiltily. She, who was expected to be the mentor and tokeep her companion up to the mark, was certainly the defaulter in thisinstance. Her bed and the chairs were strewn with various articles, andnothing seemed as yet in its right place. 

"I couldn't help dipping into that book, " she confessed. "It's acollection of old Irish fairy tales and legends. It was given meyesterday, before I left home, and I've scarcely had time even to lookat it. "

"Are they nice?"

"Lovely, to judge by the one I've just sampled!"

"Then do tell it to me! I hate reading, but I'm an absolute baby forloving to be told old tales. "

"I? Oh, I couldn't!" exclaimed Janie. 

"Yes, you can--while I'm helping you to put all these things into yourdrawers. Do, mavourneen! I want to hear the Irish story. "

When Honor's grey eyes looked pleadingly from under their long, darklashes, and a soft blarney crept into her voice, there were few peoplewho could resist her. Janie flushed pink; she was so seldom asked to doanything for anybody! She had no natural gift for narrative, but shemade an effort. 

"There was once an Irishman called Murtagh O'Neil, " she began, "and hewas walking over London Bridge, with a hazel staff in his hand, when anEnglishman met him and told him that the stick he carried grew on aspot under which were hidden great treasures. The Englishman was awizard, and he promised that if Murtagh would go with him to Ireland, and show him the place, he would gain as much gold as he could carry. Murtagh consented, so they went over to Bronbhearg, in Kerry, wherethere was a big green mound; and there they dug up the hazel tree onwhich the staff had grown. Under it they found a broad, flat stone, andthis covered the entrance to a cavern where thousands of warriors layin a circle, sleeping beside their shields, with their swords claspedin their hands. Their arms were so brightly polished that theyilluminated the whole cave; and one of them had a shield that outshonethe rest, and a crown of gold on his head. In the centre of the cavehung a bell, which the wizard told Murtagh to beware of touching; but, if at any time he did so, and one of the warriors were to ask: 'Is itday?' he was to answer without hesitation: 'No, sleep thou on!' The twomen took as much as they could carry from a heap of gold pieces thatlay amidst the warriors, and Murtagh managed accidentally to touch thebell. It rang, and one of the warriors immediately asked: 'Is it day?'when Murtagh answered promptly: 'No, sleep thou on!' The wizard toldhim that the company he had seen were King Brien Borombe and hisknights, who lay asleep ready for the dawn of a new day. When the righttime should come the bell would ring loudly, and the warriors wouldstart up and destroy the enemies of Erin, and once more the descendantsof the Tuatha di Danan should rule the isle in peace. When Murtagh'streasure was all finished, he went back to the cave and helped himselfto more. On his way out he touched the bell, and again it rang; butthis time he was not so ready with his answer, and some of the warriorsrose up, took the gold from him, beat him, and flung him out of thecave. He never recovered from the beating, but was a cripple to the endof his days. "

"And serve him right, too!" declared Honor. "Brien Borombe was a greathero of Ireland. "

"Yes, there's one of Moore's _Irish Melodies_ that begins: 'Remember theglories of Brien the brave', " said Janie. 

"Are there any more stories about him in that book?"

"I'm not sure, but there are tales about fairy raths and changelingsand leprechauns and pookas and banshees, and all kinds of extraordinarycreatures. "

"Then we'll have one every day, please! I think you're a first-ratestory-teller. You're almost as good as old Mary O'Grady. I've often satby her peat fire and heard about the banshee and the leprechaun; only, she believes in them. I'm so glad I've moved into this bedroom! I likeyou far better than those girls in No. 13. "

When Miss Maitland came upstairs to inspect No. 8, she found Honor andJanie already on a more favourable footing than she had dared to hope, the latter chatting with a vivacity that no one at St. Chad's hadhitherto imagined she possessed. Once she had broken the ice of hershyness, and had broached her beloved topic of books, Janie had plentyto say; and, as Honor was also in a communicative mood, the pair seemedwell started on the high road to friendship. 

It was fortunate for Honor that she had found a congenial room-mate, asher first days at Chessington proved rather a time of trial. She waswoefully and terribly home-sick. It seemed an absolute uprooting tohave been torn away from Kerry, and she considered that nothing in hernew surroundings could make amends for the change. Her pride upheld hersufficiently to prevent her from showing any outward signs of miserybefore the inquisitive eyes of her schoolfellows, but every now andthen the yearning for Kilmore would rise with an almost unbearablepain, and she would have to fight hard to keep her self-control. MaisieTalbot, she was sure, would regard home-sickness as "early Victorian", and consequently worthy of contempt; and she was determined not to giveeither Maisie or any of the others an opportunity of laughing at her. 

She felt very keenly the confinement and restraint of school life. Tobe obliged to study lessons and play games at specified hours, allwithin a certain limited area, seemed an utter contrast to the freedomin which she had hitherto revelled; and she would long for a scamperwith Bute and Barney, her two terriers, or a sail with her father downthe creek and out into the Atlantic. She would pour enthusiasticdescriptions of her home into Janie's ears, until the latter felt sheknew Kilmore Castle and its demesne, and the little fishing village, with its peat smoke and its warm-hearted peasants; and the rocks andthe moors and the stream, and the green, treacherous bogs, almost aswell as Honor herself. 

Notwithstanding her former reputation for unsociability, Janie, at theend of three days, had completely lost her heart to this wayward, impulsive daughter of Erin. It was true, Honor was apt to be trying attimes. Her gusts of hot temper, petulance, or utter unreasonablenesswere rather disconcerting to anyone unaccustomed to the Celticdisposition; but they never lasted long, and Janie soon found out thather friend rarely meant what she then said, and was generallyparticularly lovable after an outburst, with a winsome look on her faceand a beguiling, endearing tone in her voice that would have gainedforgiveness from a stone. 

With the rest of the members of St. Chad's Honor was also on goodterms. She could be very amusing and full of racy Irish humour when sheliked, and would send the girls into fits of laughter with her quaintsayings and funny stories. Her nickname of "Paddy Pepper-box" stuck toher, and she certainly justified it occasionally. 

"She's like a volcano, " declared Lettice Talbot. "Sometimes if youtease her she starts with a bang, and lets off steam for five minutes. Then it's all over, and she's quite pleasant again, until next time. "

"I'd rather have that than sulking, at any rate, " said DorothyArkwright. "A storm often clears the air. "

"It's not much use chaffing her, either, " said Madge Summers, "for shealways seems to get the best of it. "

"Yes; if she's down one minute she'll bob up again the next, like acork. "

Honor's humours were apt to overflow into the region of practicaljokes. These were generally played on such genial recipients as LetticeTalbot and Madge Summers, but occasionally she would venture on moredangerous ground. One afternoon, at the end of her first week atChessington, she was in the dressing-room, changing her shoes inpreparation for cricket, when Ruth Latimer interposed. 

"I forgot to tell you, Paddy! Games are off to-day. "

"Why?" asked Honor in astonishment, for the hour and a half in theplaying-fields was as strict a part of the college curriculum as themorning lessons. 

"Because it's the Health Testing. "

"What's that?"

"A kind of medical examination, " explained Dorothy Arkwright. "Wealways have it at the beginning of each term, to make sure that, asMiss Cavendish expresses it, we are 'physically fit for the duties ofschool life'. "

"Oh!" said Honor, looking rather aghast at the prospect. 

"You needn't pull such a long face, Paddy, " said Lettice. "We none ofus mind; indeed, we think it's a joke. "

"We have a lady doctor, you see, " said Ruth, "and she's so jolly, shekeeps one laughing all the time. "

"What does she do?"

"Oh! weighs us, and sounds our lungs, and tests our eyes, and measuresour chests. "

"You'll have to draw a deep breath, and to put out your tongue, and tolet her look at your teeth, " added Lettice. 

"And if any girl is really very much below standard, " said Dorothy, "she is 'turned out to grass'. That means that she only doeshalf-lessons. "

"Of course, she has to be rather bad for that, " remarked Ruth. 

"It's never been my luck yet!" lamented Lettice. 

"I should think not, with those fat, red cheeks! You couldn't lookdelicate, however hard you tried. "

"It happened to Janie Henderson, though, in her first term. How littledid you weigh, Moonie?"

"I'm sure I forget, " returned Janie, who had joined the group. 

"But you had to be fed up on cream and beaten eggs and all kinds ofthings. I remember how we envied you. "

"Are you weighed in stones or pounds here?" asked Honor. 

"In stones. It's very puzzling to some of the Colonials, becausethey're accustomed to American machines that register in pounds. Theyhave to do a sum before they can calculate the result. "

"When does this exam. Come off?"

"Some time this afternoon. We go up in relays. It's St. Chad's turnto-day. On Wednesday it was the School House, and on Thursday, St. Aldwyth's. Then on Saturday it will be St. Hilary's and St. Bride's. Ittakes nearly a week to get through the whole school. "

The medical examination was to be conducted at the sanatorium, and Dr. Mary Forbes was already installed there, and busily employed, whenHonor and her classmates arrived. 

"She begins with monitresses, and then works downwards, " explainedDorothy. "I don't expect it will be our turn for half an hour yet, butwe're obliged to stay here, to be ready in case we're called. "

"It's not nearly so alarming as the dentist's, " said Ruth. 

The waiting-room was full of girls, who were beguiling the time withjokes and banter and lively chatter. Lettice, Ruth, and Dorothy soonmingled in the crowd, and forgot all about their Irish companion untilthe voice of Vivian Holmes was heard announcing:

"Next--Ruth Latimer, Chatty Burns, Madge Summers, and HonorFitzgerald. "

"Where's Honor?" asked Lettice. "She was here just now. "

"Why, she's there!--actually outside in the garden, " replied Dorothy. 

"What's she doing, dodging about the rockery?"

"Someone call her--quick!"

Honor came running in, looking rather flushed and hot, and with acurious, bulgy appearance about her blouse. 

"Where have you been?" demanded Ruth, but her question went unanswered, for Vivian whisked the four girls with scant ceremony into Dr. MaryForbes's consulting-room. Time was too precious to be wasted, and themonitress was something of a disciplinarian. Honor sat watching withdeep interest while first Ruth, then Chatty, and finally Madge wereduly examined and passed as "sound". She was called then, and after hername and age had been entered on her chart, and her height taken, shewas told to step on to the weighing machine. Round swung the pointer, and stopped at 8 stone 4 lb. Dr. Mary looked at the dial almostincredulously. She thought there must be something wrong with themachine. 

"Stand off for a minute, " she said, "while I examine the weights. Imust have made a mistake. "

Honor obeyed, with a very solemn face. She appeared to be taking thematter with unusual seriousness. Dr. Mary readjusted the lever, andeven oiled the machine; but when Honor stepped on to it again itregistered exactly the same. 

"It's most extraordinary!" exclaimed the lady doctor. "For a girl ofyour height and slight build I have never known such a record, " and shegazed at Honor's rather slender proportions in amazement. 

"I expect it's bones, " volunteered Honor. "The Fitzgeralds are abig-boned family. "

"Your bones would have to be of cast iron, to bring you up to eightstone odd, " cried Dr. Mary. "The machine must be at fault. It's absurd, on the face of it--a small, slim girl like you!"

"Perhaps it's the change of air since I arrived, " said Honorinnocently, but at the same time she looked at Madge Summers with avery mischievous expression on her face. 

"She's up to something!" thought Madge, and nudged Ruth, though shedared not venture to whisper. 

"Of course, we eat a great deal over in Ireland, " continued Honor. "There is nothing like potatoes for making one grow. I saw in the_British Almanac_ that they were twice as nourishing as anything, except herrings and oatmeal; and we have those too in Kerry. "

"I think, in that case, we must try Banting, " said Dr. Mary, who musthave caught Honor's glance, for she suddenly took hold of her, andbegan feeling her carefully. 

"Ah!" she exclaimed; "so these are the extra bones, are they?" anddiving into her patient's pocket, she drew out stone after stone, andas many more again that had been tucked down in the front of the whiteflannel blouse. 

The doctor was a good-tempered woman, with a strong sense of humour, and, instead of scolding, she laughed heartily at having been taken inby such a trick. 

"I've had patients who shammed ill before, " she declared, "but neversuch a scandalous case of imposition as this. "

"Well, the girls told me the weight was to be reckoned by stones, " saidHonor, with a twinkle in her eye, "so I thought I'd better come wellprovided. I'm not at all sorry to be rid of them, if they're notwanted. "

"Get on to that machine again immediately!" commanded Dr. Mary, with aneffort to be severe. "Ah! 6 stone 5 lb. Is rather a difference. It'slucky for you I didn't put you on starvation diet to reduce you. Don'ttry to be so clever again, or I shall have to perform an operation toget rid of your cheek!"

Madge, Ruth, and Chatty had sat chuckling with subdued delight duringthe interview, and the moment they were out of the room they publishedthe story abroad, for the edification of the others. 

"She thinks of such funny things!" laughed Madge, "things that nobodyelse would ever dream of doing. "

"I was afraid she'd get into a fearful scrape, " confessed Chatty. 

"Oh, Dr. Mary Forbes is too jolly to mind!" said Ruth. "She was farmore amused than cross. If it had been Miss Maitland, or MissCavendish, now! But I should imagine that even Honor Fitzgerald wouldscarcely dare to play a practical joke upon either of them!"

CHAPTER V

A Riding Lesson

The College had reopened on a Tuesday, so that by her first SundayHonor had been at school five days. In her own estimation it seemedmore like five months, but as she had left home on 24th April, and theShakespeare calendar in the recreation room (a leaf of which was tornoff punctually each morning by the monitress) only recorded 29th April, she was obliged reluctantly to acknowledge the evidence of the almanac, and realized that twelve whole weeks must intervene before the joyfultermination of what she considered her banishment from Erin. 

Sundays were made very pleasant at Chessington. In the morning thegirls attended the parish church at Dunscar. In the afternoon theymight read, or stroll about the grounds where they pleased, anindulgence not permitted on weekdays. During the summer term they wereallowed to carry their four-o'clock tea into the garden. All was laidready by the servants in the dining-hall, and each girl might pour outher own cup, and, taking what bread and butter she wished, retire witha few select companions to some nook under the trees, or a seat in anivy-covered arbour. 

From half-past four to half-past five was "silence hour", whicheveryone was required to devote to reading from a special library ofbooks carefully chosen for the purpose by Miss Cavendish. 

"I won't call them Sunday books, " she sometimes said, "because Iconsider our religion would be a very poor thing if it were only keptfor one day in the week. What we learn in this quiet time we must applyin our busy hours, and let the helpful words we read influence ourordinary life and go towards the building of character, which is themost invaluable of all possessions. "

At half-past six there was a short service in chapel; and the rest ofthe evening, after supper, was given up to the writing of home letters. 

All the routine of the school was still new to Honor, and she felt verystrange and unusual as, precisely at ten o'clock, she took her placeamong the lines of Chessingtonians marshalled in the quadranglepreparatory to setting off for church. Miss Cavendish gave the signalto start, and the two hundred girls filed along two and two, alldressed alike in white serge coats and skirts and best sailor hats, with their house colours, the blue ribbons of the School House leadingthe way, followed by the pink of St. Aldwyth's, and the orange, violet, and scarlet of St. Chad's, St. Bride's, and St. Hilary's, respectively. 

"I believe it's considered one of the sights of the neighbourhood tosee us parade through the lich-gate, " said Lettice Talbot, who happenedto be walking with Honor. "Visitors stand in the churchyard and try tocount us. They make the most absurd remarks sometimes; I suppose theythink we shan't overhear what they say. Really, they seem to look uponus as a kind of show, and I quite expect we shall be put down in thenext edition of the guide-book as one of the attractions of Dunscar. Ofcourse, we take no notice. We walk along with our noses in the air, asif we weren't aware that anyone was even thinking of us; but all thesame we feel giggles inside when we catch a whisper: 'They look likeangels dressed in white!' or, 'What a pile of washing they must make!'"

Honor had been looking forward immensely to this Sunday morning, forshe hoped she might have an opportunity of seeing her brother Dermot, who was at Dr. Winterton's school. Dermot was her favourite among herfive brothers, and the thought that Orley Grange and Chessington stoodonly a mile and a half apart had so far been her one thread of comfort. To catch even a distant glimpse of Dermot would be like a peep at home, and she felt that a moment's talk with him would be sufficient to sendher back to St. Chad's rejoicing. 

The students of the College occupied the whole of the left aisle of thechurch, and the right aisle was reserved for Dr. Winterton's pupils. Asa rule, the girls arrived early and took their seats first; and theyalways passed out by a side door, so that they seldom met the boys inthe churchyard. Should they happen to do so, however, it was etiquetteto take no notice of them, even though some might be relations, orintimate friends. Honor was unaware of this rule, which her classmates, not knowing she had a brother at the Grange, had not thought ofmentioning to her. 

On this particular Sunday either Miss Cavendish or Dr. Winterton hadslightly miscalculated the time, for the two schools arrived at exactlythe same minute. As there was not room for all to march in togetherthrough the lich-gate, the boys were drawn up like a regiment, andwaited for the College to go by. The girls sailed past with well-bredunconsciousness, their eyes fixed discreetly upon the Prayer Books andhymn-books that they carried--all except poor impulsive, unconventionalHonor, who made a sudden dart out of the line, and snatched rapturouslyat a brown-faced, curly-headed boy, by his coat sleeve. 

"Dermot! Dermot! I _am_ glad to see you!" she exclaimed, in a voice thatcould be heard from end to end of the ranks. 

"Oh, I say, Honor! Stow it!" murmured the boy in an agonized tone, turning as red as fire, and trying to back away from her. 

Naturally Honor's unexpected and unprecedented act caused a greatsensation. Lettice Talbot stopped when deserted by her partner, and thegirls behind her were obliged to halt too. All wondered what hadhappened, and, in spite of their excellent training and gooddiscipline, their curiosity got the better of them, and they cranedtheir necks to look. Miss Farrar saved the situation by hurrying toHonor, seizing her by the shoulder, and forcing her back into herplace; then the long line once more moved forward, and theChessingtonians, slightly ruffled, but trying to carry off the affairin a dignified fashion, marched with admirable coolness into thechurch. If Honor had a little, surreptitious cry behind her PrayerBook, she managed to conceal the fact from the neighbours on eitherside of her in the pew; and if her eyes looked suspiciously red, andthere was a slight tendency to chokiness in her voice as she walkedhome after service, Lettice Talbot, at any rate, was tactful enough totake no notice, though she seized the opportunity of explaining theschool code of decorum, and was severe in her censure. 

"You ought to have told me before, " said Honor. "How could I know thatI mustn't speak to my own brother?"

"I didn't even know you had a brother, " returned Lettice; "and I neverdreamt you'd do such an idiotic thing as rush at him like that. Heevidently didn't appreciate it. "

"No! I thought he'd be more glad to see me, " gulped Honor, not theleast part of whose trouble had been Dermot's cold reception of herenthusiastic greeting. 

"How silly you are! Does any boy care to parade his sister before hiswhole school? I expect he'll get tremendously chaffed about this, poorfellow! Really, Paddy, you ought to know better!"

Considerably chastened by Lettice's crushing remarks, Honor subsidedinto silence, and only reopened the subject when, in company with JanieHenderson, she had retired after dinner to a spot overlooking theplaying-fields. It was a warm, beautiful afternoon, a day when youcould almost hear the buds bursting and the flowers opening. The twogirls spread their jerseys on the grass, and sat basking in thesunshine, watching a lark soar up into the blue overhead, or theseagulls flapping leisurely round the cliffs; or listening to the cawof the jackdaws that, in company with a flock of starlings, werefeeding in a neighbouring ploughed field. The sea lay a sparkling sheetof pearly grey, and Honor looked wistfully at its broad expanse whenshe remembered that its farther waves washed the rocky shores ofIreland. 

Janie was the only girl at St. Chad's to whom she cared to mention herhome. With the others she could exchange jokes, but not confidences;and though she returned their banter with interest, she did not look tothem for sympathy. Janie seemed altogether different from the rest; shenever laughed at Honor, and even if she remonstrated, it was in such agentle, apologetic way that the most touchy of Celtic natures could nothave taken offence. 

Miss Maitland had not overlooked the episode of the morning. She hadhad a few words to say after their return from church, and Honor, inconsequence, was feeling rather sore, and ready to pour out hergrievances into her friend's ears. 

"It's too bad!" she declared. "If you can't speak to your own brother, to whom may you speak, I should like to know? It seems absurd thatDermot should be living at the Grange, not two miles off, and yet we'renever to see one another. I thought I should at least meet him once aweek, and now I mayn't even say, 'How do you do?' without being scoldedas if I had committed a highway robbery. "

"Is he your favourite brother?" asked Janie. 

"Yes; he's the nearest in age to me, and we're great chums. We have thewildest fun during the holidays--we dare each other to do the maddestthings we can think of!"

"What kind of things?"

"Well, one day, when old Biddy Macarthy was ill with quinsy, we got upearly and took her cart to Ballycroghan market, and Dermot sold all herchickens for her. He talked away like a Cheap Jack, and made such fun, people nearly died with laughing. You see, most of them knew who hewas, and it seemed so absurd to hear him proclaiming the virtues ofBiddy's fowls. Then we filled the cart with seed potatoes, as a presentfor her; and tore home so fast that the traces broke, and the donkeyran straight out of the shafts. We fell on the road, nearly buried inpotatoes, but luckily we weren't hurt. We managed to catch the donkey, and to mend the traces with a piece of string; then we had to put allthe potatoes back. Biddy laughed so much when we told her about theadventure that it cured her quinsy; and she said she never had such asplendid crop of potatoes as from those we brought her that day fromBallycroghan. That was Dermot's joke; but I think mine was quite asmuch fun. "

"What was yours?"

"I saved up my pocket-money to get a little pig, to give to old Micky, the cobbler. Dermot and I walked over to Ennisfellen fair to buy it, and drove it home with a string tied to its leg. As fast as we pulledone way it ran another, and just as we got to Micky's cabin the stringsnapped, and off the pig bolted down the village, and ran straight intothe open door of the school. The children chased it round and roundbeneath the forms, and caught it at last under the master's desk. Oh, we have lively times at Kilmore! Then once Dermot and I ran away, andwent to see Cousin Theresa at Slieve Donnell. Nobody knew where we werefor two days, and people were hunting all over the country for us. Theythought we must have been drowned, or have fallen into the bog. "

"But weren't your father and mother fearfully anxious?" asked Janie, who had listened almost aghast to the recital of those wild escapades. 

"Well, Father was rather cross about that, certainly. He was neverreally very angry, though, until the last time, when I----"

But here Honor stopped. On the whole, she decided she would not relatethe story of Firefly. She could not quite understand the expression onJanie's face, and she began to doubt whether her friend wouldaltogether sympathize with her. Instead, she plunged into a detaileddescription of her elder brothers, telling how two were preparing forthe Army at Sandhurst, how another was at Oxford, and the fourth wasstudying law. 

"I suppose you are nearly always with your mother, as you are the onlygirl, " said Janie. 

"Well, no, " admitted Honor. "She's so delicate, and so often ill. I'mafraid I give her a headache. "

"My mother is delicate too, " confided Janie. "She has most dreadfulneuralgia sometimes. I bathe her head with eau-de-cologne, mixed withvery hot water, and it always does her good. She calls me her littlenurse. Have you ever tried hot water with eau-de-cologne for yourmother's headaches?"

Honor had never dreamt of offering any help or assistance to anyone insickness. The idea was quite new to her, and that Janie evidentlyexpected her to be her mother's companion and right hand surprised her. She had already met with many astonishments at St. Chad's, where mostof the views of life seemed different from her old standards. Shescarcely liked to confess that she was of so little use at home, andhastily turned the conversation back to her brother Dermot. 

"Do you think if I were to ask Miss Cavendish, she would let him callto see me?" she suggested. 

Janie shook her head. 

"I'm quite sure she wouldn't, " she replied. "The rules are so strictabout visitors. Nobody but our parents is allowed, except an occasionaluncle or aunt--never a brother. You'd better not suggest it. "

"Then I shall have to go and see him. "

"How could you, Honor? Don't be so unreasonable!"

"I thought I might find an opportunity some day, " said Honorreflectively. "One never knows what may turn up. Dear old Dermot! Itwould be hard luck to be within two miles of him for a whole term, without exchanging a single word. "

"Well, if you do, you'll get into a far bigger scrape than you'll like. You'd much better wait until the holidays, when you'll probably bothtravel home together, " advised Janie. 

There certainly were no opportunities at Chessington College for payingcalls. Except on half-holidays, the girls seldom went beyond the schoolgrounds, the large playing-fields providing a wide enough area forexercise. The members of the Fifth and Sixth Forms were allowed to goout occasionally, within specified bounds, if they went three together;but the younger ones had not attained to such a privilege. 

"We mayn't even put our noses through the gate of the quad, " saidLettice Talbot, in reply to a question from Honor, who chafed sorelyagainst the rule; "not unless we can get a special exeat from MissCavendish, and that's only given once in a blue moon. It's no uselooking volcanic, Paddy! You'll have to grin and bear it. "

"It's as bad as being in prison, " grumbled Honor. 

"Nonsense!" snapped Maisie Talbot. "You have cricket or tennis fornearly two hours every afternoon. What more can you want? I'd ratherplay games myself than do anything else. "

"You can't expect to do just as you like at school, " remarked DorothyArkwright, who sometimes joined with Maisie in "squashing" Honor. 

"The riding lessons begin next Thursday, " said Lettice, with an attemptat consolation. "They are very jolly. Mr. Townsend always takes theclass a trot over the Tor. You said you were to learn riding?"

"It's the one lesson I begged for, " replied Honor. "I could havedispensed with Latin, or German, or mathematics. "

"Maisie and I are to begin this term; we're looking forward to ittremendously!"

"You are lucky, " said Pauline Reynolds enviously. "I'd give all Ipossess to be going with you. I've never ridden anything moreinteresting than a rocking-horse, or a donkey on the sands; and onedoesn't get much of a canter for six-pence!"

"I believe I'm horribly nervous, and I don't mind confessing it, "declared Lettice. "The idea of being perched on a great, tall horsemakes me shake in my shoes. When it begins to trot I shall drop off--Iknow I shall!"

"Don't be so silly!" protested Maisie. "You can stick on to Teddie athome all right. Honor Fitzgerald, can you ride?"

"Bareback, if you like, " said Honor. "Dermot and I used to take our oldpony and practise what we called 'circus performances'. Pixie quiteentered into the spirit of the thing, and would walk along gently whilewe stood on his back. "

"I hear Mr. Townsend brings very fresh horses, " said Lettice, with ashiver of apprehension. "I do hope he'll choose me a quiet one!"

"The fresher the better for me, " said Honor. "I'm just longing for agood gallop. "

"But suppose it runs away?"

"Then it will have to take me with it. If it's any kind of a beast withfour legs, I'll undertake to make it fly. "

"I heard that Mr. Townsend's horses aren't worth the fag of riding, "observed Flossie Taylor, who had joined the group. 

"There speaks the voice of envy! You wouldn't say so if you were takingthe lessons, " retorted Maisie. 

"People who are accustomed to hunt at home don't care about hiredhacks, " drawled Flossie, in her most supercilious manner. 

"It all depends on the sort of hunting, " returned Honor, who was neverat a loss. "If it's only 'hunt the slipper', I'll admit it's not muchof a training, and you might be afraid of your seat. "

The riding course was a special feature of the summer term atChessington. It was an "extra", not part of the ordinary schoolcurriculum, as were the games. A master came from Dunscar, and wouldescort select little parties of girls for a trot upon the Tor, astretch of moorland not far from the College. Mr. Townsend did not careto take out many pupils at once, so on the following Thursday afternoononly seven horses were waiting in the quadrangle. The Talbots, RuthLatimer, and Honor represented St. Chad's, while two girls from St. Hilary's and one from St. Bride's completed the party. Letticeconfessed to a very superior and elated feeling as the reins were laidin her hand and the cavalcade began to move, particularly as FlossieTaylor and the Hammond-Smiths were just setting off for tennis, andcould not help witnessing the start, though they resolutely looked theopposite way. 

"Flossie always tries to be extremely grand herself, and make otherpeople seem small, " whispered Lettice. 

"Fortunately, one needn't take people at their own estimate, " repliedMaisie, whose downright nature much disliked Flossie's habit ofbragging. 

To all the seven girls it was a delight to find themselves passingunder the archway of the big gate, and away along the road towards theTor. A chestnut called Victor had fallen to Honor's share, and thoughhe was very tall in comparison with her old favourite Pixie, shenevertheless sat him well. 

"She looks just like the picture of Diana Vernon in our _Rob Roy_, "remarked Lettice to Maisie, gazing with admiration at the upright, graceful figure of her schoolmate, who seemed perfectly at home in thesaddle. 

Lettice was getting on much better than her modest protestationsbeforehand would have led her friends to expect. Violet Wright, thegirl from St. Bride's, was quite a beginner, and Mr. Townsend held herhorse by a leading rein; while Gwen Roby, from St. Hilary's, lookedrather solemn, as if she were not altogether sure that she was enjoyingthe experience. 

"I've ridden before, " she explained, "but only on a small pony, andthis feels so very different. "

At first the party went at a walking pace, but on coming to a good, level stretch of road the master gave the order to trot, and his pupilswere able to test the capacities of their steeds. Honor, at least, wasmost unwilling to pull up when Mr. Townsend called out "Halt!" I amafraid she did not want a lesson, only a scamper through the fresh air;and she listened impatiently while the master explained the rightposition of the whip, the hold on the snaffle, and the principle ofrising elegantly in the saddle. 

"It's all very well to talk of principles, " said poor Violet, whohappened to find herself next to Lettice; "I expect a little practicewill be of more use to me. At present I jog up and down like a sack offlour, and it's all I can manage to stick on anyhow. I know I shall beas stiff as a board to-morrow!"

"When we reach the Tor we may manage a short canter, " said Mr. Townsend, "but for the present I wish you to keep together. Now then, young ladies, please, elbows in and heads up! Hold the reins rathershort in the hand, and take care not to bear on the curb!"

"It's no fun, is it?" remarked Honor, as she passed Ruth Latimer. "Arewe only going to walk in a stupid row, and then trot for about tenyards? I thought we should be flying along, like a hunt. I'd rather beon Pixie at home; I could always make him go when I tickled his ears. If we don't hurry up a little more I shall try it on this horse, andsee if he won't break into something more interesting than a snail'space. "

"Oh, Honor, do take care!" remonstrated prudent Ruth. 

But Honor did not stop to listen, and pushed on ahead of the others, swishing her whip about in a manner that drew instant reproof from themaster. They had left the highway, and were now on a road leadingacross the open moor. On one side the cliffs descended steeply to thesea, and on the other rose bare, rolling hills, covered with short, fine grass, the sails of a windmill or an occasional storm-swept treealone breaking the line of the horizon. It was a very suitable placefor a canter, and after a few preliminary remarks Mr. Townsend startedhis flock on what seemed to most of them a rather mad career, followingclosely himself in their wake, to continue his instructions:

"Courage, Miss Roby! Miss Talbot, you are leaning over in your saddle!Miss Lettice, your elbows again! Miss Wright, you must learn not tograsp the pommel. Don't drag the rein! Miss Latimer, keep a light hand!What, tired already? Well, I won't work you too hard just at first. "

A little shaken and agitated by the unwonted exercise, the girlschecked their horses to a walk. They were none of them practisedriders, and all were glad that no more was expected from them for thepresent. Honor, however, was some way on in front, and, instead ofpulling up, as she was told, she gave her horse a switch across theflank and a tweak on the ear, such as she had been accustomed to bestowon her old pony at home. The effect was magical. Seaside hacks are notgenerally prone to run away, but this one had a little spirit left inhim; he resented his rider's liberties, and, feeling the soft grassunder his feet, fled as if he were on a racecourse. 

"Miss Fitzgerald! Miss Fitzgerald!" shouted Mr. Townsend, but he mightas well have spoken to the wind. Honor had found her opportunity, andwas quick to seize it. Instead of attempting to pull up Victor, she lethim have his head. She had no desire to check his pace, the motion wasso exhilarating; and she could not resist the temptation to display herhorsemanship before the rest of the class. The unfortunate master darednot desert his other nervous and inexperienced pupils to give chase, and in a few minutes she had left the remainder of the party a milebehind. They could see her tearing past the coastguard station, wherean old man with a telescope yelled wildly to her to stop; past awindmill, where children and chickens scrambled in hot haste out of herpath; and away over the moor, until she quite disappeared from sight. 

The girls were in a panic of alarm. Mr. Townsend turned rather white, but preserved his presence of mind, and, leading his little companystraight to the coastguard station, made all dismount, and tied up thehorses. Then he set out himself in pursuit of the runaway. 

Honor, meanwhile, continued her "John Gilpin" galop. On and on sheflew, her hair, as the fairy tales say, "whistling in the wind". Itoccurred to her at last that she might be going too far, and she madean effort to pull up. But it was of no avail; Victor had got the bitfirmly between his teeth, and nothing could hold him. Luckily, the girldid not lose her nerve, but waited until she could tire him out, andget him in hand again; and I verily believe she would have succeeded inmastering him, and turning him safely on his homeward course, had notthe way been unexpectedly barred by a fence. The poor old horse musthave been a hunter during some period of his life; he went at the fencelike a greyhound, and cleared it nimbly: but there were a trench and arough bank on the farther side, and as he alighted he stumbled, flinging Honor violently from the saddle. Mercifully, her foot cameclear of the stirrup, and she rolled safely into a bed of nettles, while Victor, scrambling up again, made off without her over the crestof the hill. 

Honor picked herself out of the nettles as quickly as she could. Nobones were broken, and, except for some painful stings, she was nonethe worse for her adventure. 

Nevertheless, the situation was awkward. There she was on the openmoor, many miles away from Chessington, and obliged to make her wayhome to St. Chad's as best she could. She climbed over the fence, and, holding up her habit, set out to walk back in the direction in whichshe had come. 

It seemed slow progress compared with riding, and she began to wonderhow long it would take her to retrace her steps. She had not gone morethan half a mile, however, when she met Mr. Townsend, who had at lastsucceeded in reaching her. His relief at finding her alive and unhurtwas almost too great for words. He put her quietly on his own horse, and led it by the bridle back to the coastguard station, where the restof the girls were waiting, very anxious to know what had become ofHonor, and very rejoiced when they saw she was safe. 

There was no further riding lesson that day. As Maisie Talbot explainedafterwards to a select company of interested friends: "I'm sure Mr. Townsend was frightfully angry, but he scarcely said a word. He onlytook us straight home at once, in a kind of solemn procession. He hadto walk himself, leading Honor's and Violet's horses, so of course wewent horribly slowly; and he looked so savage that nobody dared tospeak. "

"What possessed you, Paddy?" asked Lettice. 

"I had an idea of going to see Dermot, " confessed Honor. "I thought ifI rode straight up to the Grange, and asked leave from Dr. Winterton, perhaps he'd let us have half an hour together. "

"Well, you are the silliest goose! Why, the Grange is in exactly theopposite direction! Will you never learn sense?" and Lettice collapsedwith laughter. 

"Mr. Townsend is having a long talk with Miss Maitland at this presentmoment, " announced Ruth Latimer. 

"Then I'm glad I'm not you, Paddy!" chuckled Lettice. 

Nobody ever knew the details of Mr. Townsend's interview with thehouse-mistress, or what explanation he gave of the affair. Though hewas perfectly persuaded that it was Honor's own fault, it was difficultfor him to blame her for what might, after all, have been a mereaccident; so, beyond a few words of warning about the danger ofwhipping her horse without proper orders, she did not on this occasionreceive the scolding that she certainly merited. 

Victor was found on the hills six miles away from Chessington, gentlycropping the grass, and allowed himself to be caught by a passingfarmer. He was not used at the riding lessons again. Honor was infuture given the tamest and least-spirited of the mounts, and for thenext two lessons was even kept strictly to the leading rein. 

"She's fearfully disgusted about it, " said Lettice, "and it certainlyis a humiliation, when she can ride so well. It's quite the worstpunishment Mr. Townsend could possibly have given her, and I expect heknows it!"

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 protégée 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. 

[Illustration: 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 Lettice 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. "

CHAPTER VII

St. Chad's Celebrates an Occasion

During her first few days at Chessington, Honor had considered theCollege as little better than a prison; but as time went on and shegrew more accustomed to the routine, she began to reverse her opinion. After all, it was pleasant to have companionship. The various freshinterests, the many jokes, amusements, and constant small excitementsinseparable from a large community of girls seemed to open out a newphase of existence for her. 

"I'd no idea what school was like before I came, " she confided toJanie. "Of course, the boys were always talking of the things they did, and of the fagging and bullying and ragging that went on, but I wassure they were piling on the horror for my benefit, and that it wasn'treally as bad as they pretended. "

"Why, no one bullies at girls' schools, " said Janie. 

"I know they don't; but Derrick and Dermot stuffed me with all kinds ofridiculous tales, just for the sake of teasing. They said thatChessington was exactly on the model of a boys' college, and that ifgirls learnt Latin and mathematics, and played cricket and hockey, andhad a gymnasium and a debating society, it put such a masculine elementinto them that they couldn't refrain from using brute force, instead ofany other means of persuasion. They declared it was a natural sequence, and I must make up my mind to it. Derrick even offered to teach me tobox before I came, as a useful accomplishment!"

"Did you accept?"

"No, thank you!--not after the way I'd seen him knock Brian about. Isuppose brothers are always teases. "

"I've no experience, because I haven't any brothers. I've nobody exceptMother; but she's as good as a whole family combined. " When Janiementioned her mother her eyes always shone, and her face would lightup. It was evident the two were everything to one another, and that theseparation during term-time was a hardship. 

"I didn't want to go to school at all, " continued Honor; "not, ofcourse, because I believed Derrick's absurd stories, but simply becauseI was so fond of home that I hated to leave. "

"That's just how I felt. Mother and I had such a delightful timetogether, I was sure Chessington couldn't be half so nice. "

"What used you to do? You've scarcely told me anything about your home, though I often talk about Kilmore. "

"We live in quite a quiet place, " began Janie, "though it's not soout-of-the-world as Kerry. Our house is at Redcliffe, a village a fewmiles from Tewkesminster. It's a beautiful country. There are lovelyfarms, with red-tiled roofs and big orchards and picturesque barns; andthere's a splendid old castle overlooking the river. And then thetrees! You ought to see our trees! These about Chessington look themost wretched, stunted things, after our grand oaks and elms. It's agreat fruit-growing neighbourhood; we have heaps and heaps of applesand pears and plums and apricots in our garden. They're simplydelicious when they're ripe. Then Tewkesminster is so quaint! There areall kinds of funny little side streets, with cottages built at oddangles; and there's a market cross and several old churches, as well asthe Minster. Mother is extremely fond of painting, and sometimes shetakes me out sketching with her. I can't draw very well yet--most of myattempts are horrid daubs! but Mother is such a good teacher, shealways makes one want to try. "

"Hadn't you a governess?" asked Honor. 

"Yes. Miss Hall used to come every day from Tewkesminster; but I had afew lessons from Mother as well, in drawing, and Greek history, andEnglish literature. We used to read books aloud in the evenings--Shakespeare, or Dickens, or sometimes Tennyson or Wordsworth. We got through atremendous amount of poetry in the winter, when it was dark early, andwe had nothing else to do, except sit by the fire. We read all _Marmion_and the _Idylls of the King_ and _Lalla Rookh_, as well as shorterpieces. Mother reads aloud most beautifully; it's delightful to listento her. Then in summer-time we used to go country walks, and find wildflowers, and bring them back and hunt out their names in the botanybook. I kept a Nature Calendar, and put down everything I noted--whenthe first violets were out, and when I heard the cuckoo, or saw aswallow for the first time in the year; and what birds' nests I found, or butterflies, or moths, or caterpillars. Sometimes I drew pictures ofthem as well. I had a whole row of specimen sheets pinned round theschool-room at home. Then one day a wretched doctor told Mother thatTewkesminster was too relaxing a place for me, and recommendedChessington. I begged and implored not to be sent away, but Mother saidthe doctor was quite right, and that I was far too grown-up for my age, and an only child ought to have young companions, so I must certainly goto school at once. I was absolutely miserable my first term. I'm alittle more used to it now, but I begin to count the days to theholidays directly I get back to St. Chad's. There are still eight weeksbefore we break up!"

Janie spoke of home with the intense longing of a girl who is notnaturally fond of the social side of life. She was out of her elementat Chessington, and the strenuous bustle and stimulating whirl of theplace, which began to mean so much to Honor, were repugnant to herquiet, reserved disposition. In every big school there are Janies, isolated characters not quite able to run the pace required by theinexorable code of public opinion, interesting to the one or two whomay happen to discover their good points, but to the mass of theircompanions merely names and faces in class. Some of them do fine workin the world afterwards, yet the very qualities that help them tofuture success are not those to bring present popularity. They are notfor the many, but for the few, and only show their best to anoccasional friend whose sympathy can overstep the wall of shyness thatfences them round. 

With Honor alone Janie was at her ease, and she would chat away intheir bedroom with a sprightliness that would have amazed the othermembers of St. Chad's, if they could have heard her. The two girls goton well together. Their opposite dispositions seemed to dovetail intoone another, and so to cause little friction; and Miss Maitland, whoseobservant eyes noticed more than her pupils imagined, was wellsatisfied with the result of her experiment. Janie kept Honor up to themark in the way of work; she would generally go over dates or difficultpoints in the lessons while they were dressing each morning, and it waschiefly owing to her efforts that Honor held a tolerably high place inher class. The latter often wished that she could have performed a likeservice for her friend in respect of athletics, but Janie was hopelessat physical sports, and endured them only under compulsion. 

Every afternoon, from two o'clock till a quarter to four, all the girlswere required to take part in organized games, under the direction ofMiss Young, the gymnastic mistress. They were allowed their choicebetween cricket and tennis, but during the specified hours they mustnot be absent from the playing-fields, as this systematic outdoorexercise formed part of the ordinary course of the school. Now and thenit was varied by a walk, and occasionally by an archery or croquettournament; but these were reserved for insufferably hot days, and thetime, as a rule, was devoted to more active pursuits. The cricket pitchlay to the west of the College, a splendid, level tract of ground, commanding a glorious prospect of low, undulating hills, cliffsbordering a shingly beach, and the long, blue stretch of the Channelbeyond. All the healthy moorland and sea breezes seemed to blow there, filling the lungs with pure, fresh air, and well justifying MissCavendish's boast that Chessington was the most bracing place in thekingdom for growing girls. Even Janie's pale cheeks would take a tingeof pink as she ran, unwillingly enough, in chase of a ball; and themajority of the school would come in at four o'clock flushed and rosy, and very ready indeed for the piles of thick bread and butter thatawaited them in the various dining-halls. 

Honor took to the games with enthusiasm. Having served anapprenticeship in the Beginners' Division at cricket, and having shownMiss Young her capacity in the way of batting and bowling, she wasallowed a place in the St. Chad's team. 

It happened that on the very day of her promotion her house played St. Hilary's, and there was great excitement about the match, because thelatter was generally considered the crack team of the College. Thatafternoon, however, the Hilaryites did not quite justify theirreputation. Perhaps the St. Chad's bowling had been extra good; at allevents, the St. Hilary side was dismissed for sixty-seven. 

Honor's heart was beating fast when at length her innings arrived, and, taking her bat, she walked to the wicket. Every eye, she knew, would befixed upon her play. A new girl, she was standing her trial before theschool, and on the result of this match would largely depend herposition during the term. She had played cricket during the holidayswith her brothers, and all Derrick's rules came crowding into her mindas she tried to imagine that she was on the dear, rough old field athome, with Brian to bowl, and Fergus for long-stop, and Dermot andOsmond to field, and criticize her strokes afterwards. 

She held her bat well, keeping her left shoulder to the bowler and hereye on the ball. The bat was a light, new one, which the boys had givenher as a parting present, and she felt she could wield it easily. During the first over she played steadily, but did not attempt toscore. It was one of Derrick's pet maxims that it was folly to try todo so until you had taken the measure of your opponent, and she wishedto gain confidence. 

In the next over her partner, Chatty Burns, made a single, whichbrought Honor to the opposite wicket. Gertrude Humphreys's bowling wasmore to her taste; it might be described as fast and loose, and Honor, unlike most girls, did not object to swift bowling, having beenaccustomed to it from Brian and Derrick. The first ball she receivedcame down at a good pace, but well on the off side of the wicket. Thiswas just the chance she had been waiting for, and a well-timed cut sentit flying to the boundary for three. The rest of the over wasuneventful, Chatty having evidently made up her mind to be careful. Winnie Sutcliffe now took up the bowling at the other end, but herfirst ball, being a wide, served to increase the confidence that Honorhad felt in breaking her duck. The next ball, though straight on middlestump, was a half-volley; Honor stepped out to it with a feeling ofexultation, and a moment later it was soaring over the bowler's headfor four. 

"Good!" "Well hit, Honor!" "St. Chad's for ever!" "Hurrah!" ejaculatedthe Chaddites. 

Success like this often turns the batter's head, but Honor rememberedin time the many cautions she had received from her critical brothers, and the next ball, being of good length, she played quietly to long offfor one. Chatty now received the bowling, and, encouraged by Honor'ssuccess, made what the girls afterwards described as the finest leg hitthey had ever seen. Certainly it was a good stroke, taken quite cleanand square, and as it cleared the boards it was marked down six amidrapturous applause. After that runs came more slowly for a time, andneither girl appeared inclined to take any risks. This careful play, however, began to wear down the bowling, especially GertrudeHumphreys's, which became decidedly loose. Honor, seeing her chance, suddenly began hitting about her with a spirit and vigour that almostsent the Chaddites delirious with delight, while even Miss Young wasseen laughing and smiling with Miss Maitland in a manner that seemed toimply no small self-congratulation on her choice for the last vacancyin the team. 

The Hilaryites were looking decidedly glum at this marked change in thefortunes of the game. Grace Ward, their captain, at the end of the overquietly rolled the ball to Ida Bellamy, famed for her slow "twisters". Her first essay pitched well to the leg side, and Honor, who ratherdespised "slows", made a mighty stroke at it, not allowing for thebreak, and missed it altogether. With her heart in her mouth sheglanced rapidly round at the wicket, expecting to see her bails fly;but luck was on her side, for the break had been a little too great, and the ball just cleared the off stump. 

"A good thing Derrick isn't here, " said Honor to herself. "I shouldnever have heard the end of that!"

It was very hard to resist the temptation to hit out, dangerous thoughshe knew it to be, and it was with a sensation of relief that she sawthe ball travelling off for a single to long field, thus leaving therest of the over to Chatty, who, neither so ambitious nor so impatient, played it out without giving the much-longed-for chance of a catch. Bythis time sixty was up on the board, of which Honor had contributedtwenty-eight, to the great satisfaction of all concerned. 

But Grace had not played her last card. She had evidently decided on adouble change of bowling; for, when the fielders had crossed, IreneRichmond was seen at the wicket. Irene's bowling was peculiar; it wasleft-handed, which is quite uncommon in a girl, and the more difficulton that account. The Chaddites looked at one another with smiles thatwere less spontaneous. 

Certainly Irene might with advantage have been put on before. Herstyle, though by no means swift, was most awkward to play. Chattyreceived the first ball, which beat her completely, though luckily itdid not touch the wicket. A minute later she made a single, and Honorfelt rather blank, as it was now her turn to face the bowling. One ofDerrick's pet rules, however, came into her mind: "When you're indoubt, watch each ball carefully, till you get your eye in"; and bydint of adherence to this, she played out the over with safety. 

The slow bowling at the other end, though it looked so simple, was fullof weird pitfalls, into one of which Chatty fell an easy victim. Sheplayed too soon at a short-pitched ball, and spooned a catch to mid-on, who took good care not to drop it. Chatty retired rather ruefully, butwas consoled by the applause she received from the pavilion, hertwenty-three runs being regarded as a handsome contribution. 

Maisie Talbot came in next. Being tall and athletic for her age, shehad a long reach, which she employed successfully in driving the firstball she received right along the ground into "the country" for three. This seemed to disconcert the bowler; the next one she sent down was aneasy full pitch. Honor waited till just the right moment, and then, with a fine swing of her bat, sent the ball clean over the boundary forsix, a performance that quite "brought down the house", even theHilaryites joining in the cheering. For a moment no one seemed to haverealized how the score was going, but when seventy went up on the boardthere was a wild rush for the pavilion, for the match was won. 

Honor's friends were loud in their congratulations, and Janie, who hadbeen an excited spectator, was almost as proud as if the success hadbeen her own. Vivian Holmes herself actually expressed approval. 

"Well played, Honor Fitzgerald!" she said. "I expect some day you'll bea credit to St. Chad's. "

As Vivian was generally more ready to "squash" new-comers than toencourage them, this was indeed high praise, and Honor felt inspired tocontinue her exertions, having the white ribbon of the College team asthe object of her ambition. 

Great were the rejoicings of the Chaddites at their triumph over St. Hilary's. Something in the way of a celebration seemed necessary toimmortalize the occasion, and that evening, after a hurried conferenceamong the elder girls, it was given out that, with Miss Maitland'spermission, an impromptu fancy-dress ball would take place in therecreation room at 8. 30 precisely. 

"We're just to come in any kind of costumes we can manage to contrive, "said Lettice Talbot, who, wild with excitement, had carried thethrilling tidings to the younger contingent. "Miss Maitland is going todress up, and so is Miss Parkinson. The cook is making some lemonade; Ihope it will be cold in time, but even if it isn't it will be rathernice hot. Oh, would you advise me to go as a flower-girl, or do youthink Queen Elizabeth would be better?"

"I should suggest a Merry-andrew at the present moment, " said RuthLatimer, as Lettice, unable to contain her glee, went hopping round theroom. "You could easily put a different coloured stocking on each leg, cut sheets of tissue paper to make a short, frilled, sticking-outskirt, borrow the toasting-fork from the kitchen and hang it withribbons for your bauble, and there you are!"

"Jolly!" exclaimed Lettice. "I'll do it. Will you lend me your scarletsponge-bag? It would make the very cap I want. "

It was fortunate that Vivian Holmes and her fellow-workers had reservedthe announcement of the proposed fźte until after preparation, otherwise very few lessons would have been learnt at St. Chad's. Thegirls finished supper with record speed, and filed out of thedining-hall at least ten minutes earlier than usual, all anxious toflee upstairs and begin the delightful but arduous task of robingthemselves in character. 

Miss Maitland was the owner of what she called a "theatricalproperty-box". It held a store of most invaluable possessions, whichshe had collected from time to time and put by to serve for charades ortableaux. There were old evening dresses and cloaks, feathers, shawls, a few hats, artificial flowers, bright-coloured scarves, beads, bangles, and cracker jewellery, even some false moustaches and beards, a horse pistol, and a pair of top-boots. These she placed entirely atthe disposal of the girls, telling Vivian Holmes to distribute them soas to allow as many as possible to have a share. Vivian was strictlyimpartial, and doled out the treasures with the stern justice of aRoman tribune. They did not go very far, however, among fortyChaddites; so, of necessity, at least half of the costumes had to becomposed hastily of anything that came to hand. 

The apparelling was a lively process, to judge from the sounds of mirththat issued from the various cubicles; and so many different articleswere borrowed, lent, and exchanged that it was a wonder theirrespective owners ever managed to claim them again. Strict secrecy wasobserved, the occupants of each bedroom denying even a peep to theirnext-door neighbours, who, though full of their own preparations, couldnot fail to exhibit curiosity when such exclamations as, "Oh, howlovely!" or, "It's simply screaming!" were wafted down the passage. 

Nowhere was the excitement keener than in No. 8, though Honor and Janiehad the fun all to themselves. The latter had decided to go as a friar. She had contrived a capital monk's habit out of her waterproof, tiedround the waist with the cord that held back the window curtains. Thehood formed the cowl, a dictionary made a very passable breviary, and ahockey stick served as a pilgrim's staff. 

"You're just like a palmer returning from the Holy Land, " declaredHonor. 

"Or the 'Friar of Orders Grey', " said Janie, "who--

 "'Walked forth to tell his beads, And he met with a lady fair Clad in a pilgrim's weeds!'

"I ought to have a rosary, but there isn't anything that would do inthe least for it. "

"Never mind! One must imagine it is in your pocket. Even palmerscouldn't tell their beads all day long. You look a most unsuitablefigure to dance! I'm afraid they would turn you out of your monastery, if they caught you. "

Honor was determined to enact the part of Dick Turpin. She had corkedherself the most ferocious moustaches, and made a cocked hat out ofbrown paper; and was now only waiting for a certain cloak, the horsepistol, and the pair of top-boots, which Vivian had promised to bringher if Barbara Russell, one of the elder girls, did not want them. 

"I heard Barbara say she meant to be a shepherdess, " she said, "so shecouldn't possibly wear top-boots. I don't believe anybody else hasthought of a highwayman. I wish Vivian would be quick!"

She was in a ferment of excitement. A festivity such as this was anevent in her life. She could hardly bear to wait, and would have beendown the passage in search of the missing properties, only she did notwish to exhibit her beautiful moustaches before the right time. 

"Vivian won't be long, " Janie assured her. "She is the most dependableperson I know; when she says she'll do a thing, she does it. Oh, hereshe is now!"

Honor sprang to the door, but her face fell as she saw the monitressarrive empty-handed. 

"I'm dreadfully sorry!" announced Vivian. "Barbara decided, after all, to be Oliver Cromwell, so of course she wanted the cloak, boots, andpistol. I've brought you a few bangles and a wreath of flowers, ifthey'll be of any use to you; I've nothing else left. I must fly! I'veto get into my own costume. "

Poor Honor! It was a bitter disappointment. She had counted so much onrepresenting Dick Turpin that to have to forgo the part seemed littleshort of a tragedy. 

"I can't do a highwayman in nothing but a pair of corked moustaches!"she exclaimed dolefully. 

"It is a pity, " sympathized Janie, "but of course it can't be helped. If we're very quick we shall just have time to think of something else. Could you manage a fairy, with the bangles and the wreath and a whitepetticoat?"

"A fairy! No! Do I look like a fairy? I'm so cross, it would have to bea goblin. I know what I'll do; I shall go as an Arab. "

"With the towels wound round you, I suppose?"

"They're not big enough; I must use my sheets, " and Honor, suiting heraction to her words, ruthlessly disarranged her bed. 

If the towels were too small, the sheets proved too large. In spite ofJanie's efforts (much hampered by her cassock and cowl) they refused todrape elegantly. Honor lost all patience at last, and, seizing herscissors, ripped the offending sheets in halves with uncompromisingfingers. 

"Oh, Honor, what have you done? How could you? Oh, what will MissMaitland say?" shrieked Janie, almost in tears. 

"I don't care!" declared Honor recklessly. 

In her present excited state she would have torn up her best dress withequal readiness. She was elated with her success in the cricketfield--what the Scotch call "fey"; and so long as she gratified herpresent whim, she had no thought at all for the future. 

"I must have some costume, " she continued, "and we ought to godownstairs at once. They're my own sheets, so what does it matter? Itisn't as if they were school property; I brought them from home withthe rest of my linen--they're marked 'H. Fitzgerald' in the corner. "

"You'll get into a shocking scrape, all the same, " said Janie, who washorror-stricken at her friend's lawlessness. 

There was no time, however, to think about consequences. The gong wasgiving the signal for the parade to begin, and various gigglings andexclamations in the passage warned them that the other girls werealready issuing from their rooms. Honor hastily finished her Arabtoilet, and without further delay the pair joined the rest of themasqueraders in the hall. 

Here a brilliant scene awaited them. Considering the scanty materialsat command, quite marvellous results had been accomplished. Thecostumes were most gay and varied, and many of them showed extremeingenuity on the part of their wearers. Lettice Talbot had carried outRuth Latimer's idea for a Merry-andrew with great success, and wasevidently endeavouring to sustain the character by firing off bad puns, or facetious remarks on the appearance of her friends. DorothyArkwright, in a blue evening dress and a black velvet hat withfeathers, made a dignified Duchess of Devonshire; and Pauline Reynolds, whose long, golden hair hung below her waist, came arrayed as FairRosamond. There were several Italian peasants, a Cavalier, a Roundhead, and a matador. Agnes Bennett, one of the elder girls, impersonated thePied Piper of Hamelin. By pinning two dressing-gowns (one of red andone of buff) together, she had well imitated the "queer long coat fromheel to head, half of yellow and half of red", worn by the mysteriousstranger; and, with her pipe, hung with ribbons, at her lips, seemedready to charm either rats into the Weser, or children into thehillside. Edith Hammond-Smith was a fairy, and Claudia a pierrot; whileFlossie Taylor, in an Eastern shawl, and with bangles tied on forear-rings, looked a gorgeous Cleopatra. 

Chatty Burns, in a tartan plaid, made a typical "Highland lassie". Effie Lawson, with her hair plaited in a tight pigtail, and hereyebrows corked aslant, had, with the aid of a coloured bedspread and aJapanese umbrella, turned herself into a very creditable "HeathenChinee"; and Maisie Talbot, who found materials waxing scarce after shehad finished arraying Lettice, had flung a skin rug over her shoulders, painted her face in streaks of red and black, and come as a savage. Adeline Vaughan had an original and rather striking costume. She calledherself "Scholastica", and had decorated herself with a double row ofexercise books, suspended by ribbons round her waist. Pencils, india-rubbers, pens, and rulers were fastened to all parts of herdress; and a College cap, borrowed from Miss Maitland, completed theeffect. 

The funniest of all, however, was Madge Summers, who represented asausage. She had been elaborately got up for the part by herroom-mates. They borrowed a coloured table-cloth from the kitchen, thereverse side of which was a pinky-fawn shade; then they padded Madgecarefully all over, so as to make her the right shape, swathed her inthe table-cloth, and fastened it down the back with safety-pins, tyingit tightly round her neck and ankles. She could scarcely manage towalk, much less dance; and she was so hot in her many wrappings thather face burnt--so she assured her friends--as if she were already onthe frying-pan: but if she could not take an active part in theproceedings, she had the satisfaction of attracting an immense amountof attention. 

The girls chose partners in the hall, and marched in procession intothe recreation room, where Miss Maitland (a stately Marie Antoinette)acted hostess, and received her guests with the assistance of MissParkinson (a Spanish gipsy) and Vivian Holmes (hastily attired as atroubadour). 

"It is indeed a carnival, " said Miss Maitland. "The costumes aresplendid, and all deserve hearty congratulations. We shall have to takevotes as to which is the best. We haven't thought of the music yet; itseems almost presumptuous to ask Queen Cleopatra to play a waltz forus, but perhaps she will condescend thus far. We can't ask the sausage, for she hasn't any arms! The troubadour and the Pied Piper ought to dotheir share, and the Merry-andrew must give us a _pas seul_. "

Everybody declared the evening to be the greatest success. Thelemonade, fortunately cold, was delicious, and so were the biscuitsthat Miss Maitland, through lack of any other dainties, had provided asrefreshments. Half-past nine came far too soon, and the dancers, hot, flushed, and excited, were forced reluctantly to abandon thefestivities and betake themselves upstairs to tear off their grandeur. 

Honor slept between the blankets that night, and her slumbers werehaunted by a vision of Miss Maitland, as an avenging spectre, arrayedin the mutilated sheets. The dream was certainly prophetic, for thehouse-mistress was extremely angry on discovering the damage done, andgave Honor a lecture such as she richly deserved. 

"You will stay in from cricket to-day, and mend the sheets, " shedecreed, at the conclusion of the scolding. "You will find them readyfixed by two o'clock. I shall expect the seams to be neatly run, andthe edges turned over and hemmed. "

Honor groaned. After the excitement of yesterday's match, she had beenlooking forward to the cricket practice; moreover, she hated sewing. But there was no appeal. Each house-mistress had authority to suspendgames, if necessary, so she was compelled to pass a weary afternoon ata most uncongenial occupation. 

"It's hard labour!" she exclaimed, when Janie ran in at four o'clock. "Finished! No! I've only run one seam, and hemmed about six inches. Ifeel like the 'Song of the shirt' (only it's the song of the sheetinstead). 'Stitch, stitch, stitch', and 'work, work, work'! My fingersare getting quite 'weary and worn'. There's one comfort, at any rate:Miss Maitland won't be likely to keep me away from preparation, and asthe clothes go to the wash to-morrow, perhaps she'll let one of themaids do the rest of this, and give me some other penance instead. I'drather learn five chapters of history, or a scene from Shakespeare; andI'd welcome a whole page of equations--I would indeed!"

"I'm afraid it's a vain hope, " said Janie. "Miss Maitland always sticksto her word. "

She proved right; Miss Maitland was inexorable. The discipline atChessington was strict, and any mistress who gave an order wasaccustomed to enforce it rigorously. Honor was obliged to forgo thetriumphs of the playing-fields until the very last stitch had been putin her sheets--a punishment which was severe enough, if not entirely towork a reform, at any rate to sober her considerably for the present. 

CHAPTER VIII

A Mysterious Happening

"I wonder how it is, " philosophized Ruth Latimer, "that one alwaysseems to like some girls so much, and detest others? There are certainpeople who, no matter what they do, or even if their intentions aregood, always rub one up the wrong way. "

"Natural affinity, or the reverse, I suppose, " answered Maisie Talbot. "I'm a great believer in first impressions. I can generally tell infive minutes whether I'm going to be friends with anyone or not; and Ifind I'm nearly certain to be right in the long run. "

"I suppose I must have a natural antipathy, then, against FlossieTaylor, " confessed Honor candidly. "It didn't take me as long as fiveminutes to discover my sentiments towards her. "

"I don't wonder, " said Lettice. "Flossie is a bounder!"

"What's that?"

"Oh, Paddy! You've lived at the back of beyond! A boundermeans--well--just a bounder; putting on side, you know. "

"How particularly lucid and enlightening!"

"It means someone who tries to make herself out of more consequencethan she really is, " explained Maisie. "Flossie is continually dragginginto her conversation the grand things she has at home, and the grandpeople she stays with. "

"She doesn't mention them naturally, as anyone might do without beingoffensive, " said Ruth Latimer. "She parades them just to show off, in aparticularly obtrusive and objectionable manner. "

"And we think that very bad taste at Chessington, because, of course, almost all of us have quite as nice homes and friends, only we don'tcare to boast about them. "

"It looks as if you hadn't been accustomed to decent things, if you'realways wanting to let people know you possess them, " added Lettice. 

"The worst of it is, " continued Maisie, "that she's having a badinfluence at St. Chad's. The Hammond-Smiths and the Lawsons and thePalmers follow her lead implicitly, and she's completely spoiling RhodaCunliffe and Hope Robertson. They used to be quite different beforeFlossie came. I don't think Jessie Gray and Gladys Chesters haveimproved either lately. It seems such a pity, because we've alwaysprided ourselves that St. Chad's was the best house in the College, andwe don't want this kind of element to creep in. "

"What can we do?" asked Ruth Latimer. 

"Suppose we form a league against it! All the nicer girls would join, and if Flossie and her set see that we really vote them bad style, perhaps they'll have the sense to drop it. "

"All right. Put me down as your first member. What's the name of theSociety?"

"We might call it the 'Anti-Bounders'. It has a brisk, rolling soundthat's rather jolly. "

"The A. B. S. For short, " suggested Honor. 

"And the rules?" asked Ruth. 

"Those could be short and sweet--something on these lines:

"1. No member is to make an unnecessary or ostentatious display ofwealth or valuables. 

"2. No member is to brag constantly of high connections or titledfriends. 

"3. Members are to consider, not money, but culture, as the standard ofpublic estimation at St. Chad's; and to remember that the essence ofgood breeding is simplicity. 

"4. Any member transgressing any of these rules will be blackballed. "

"Excellent!" said Ruth. "It puts what we mean in a nutshell. Now, wemust write that out, and try to get signatures. We might add a fifthrule, about not doing sneaking tricks; it's decidedly necessary. "

"And our motto could be _Noblesse oblige_, " proposed Honor. 

The "Anti-Bounders" met with favour among a large proportion of theChaddites, but with much derision from Flossie and her friends, wholost no opportunity of ridiculing the league, nicknamed its members"The Pharisees", and threw open scorn upon its rules. Nevertheless, inspite of their opposition, the society was strong enough to work adecided improvement, particularly among a certain section who wereready to trim their sails according to the prevailing wind, and tofollow blindly the general consensus of public opinion. In future anygirl guilty of inordinate bragging was christened "Chanticler", and awarning "Cock-a-doodle-doo!" would advise her of the fact withoutfurther explanation. 

"It's quite enough!" said Maisie. "We don't want to rub it in too hard, but just to let them see that we notice. Jessie Gray is better already, and although Flossie and Claudia make so much fun of us they're reallyextremely nettled, because they thought themselves the absoluteperfection of good style, and it has been a great blow to them todiscover that three-quarters of the house consider them bad form. "

It was a constant annoyance to Maisie, Lettice, and Pauline thatFlossie should occupy the fourth cubicle in No. 13 bedroom, and theyoften wondered why Miss Maitland had placed so uncongenial a companionin their midst--"especially when Adeline Vaughan is with theHammond-Smiths in No. 10, " said Lettice. "If we might only make anexchange, everybody would be satisfied. "

Miss Maitland, however, had reasons for her arrangements, which she didnot care to explain. She knew far more of the inner life of the housethan the girls suspected, and hoped that by a judicious sandwiching ofdifferent elements certain undesirable traits might be eliminated, andthe general tone raised. Though she was often aware of things that werenot entirely to her satisfaction, she was wise enough not to interferedirectly, but by careful tactics to allow the reformation to work fromwithin, experience having taught her that codes fixed by the girlsthemselves were twice as binding as those enforced by the authorities. 

The bedrooms at St. Chad's were on two floors, Nos. 9 to 16 being onthe upper story, and Nos. 1 to 7 on the lower. No. 8, occupied by Honorand Janie, was the higher of two small rooms built over the porch, andoccupied a position midway between the two floors, being reached by ashort flight of steps from the landing below. In No. 4 slept EvelynFletcher, the youngest girl in the house. She shared the room with anelder sister and two cousins, all three members of the Sixth Form. Though Evelyn was thirteen, she was very small and childish for herage, and was treated rather as a pet by the Chaddites. She was a prettylittle thing, with appealing blue eyes, fluffy hair, and a helpless, dependent manner. It was the great trial of her life that she wasobliged to go to bed more than an hour before the other occupants ofNo. 4. She had a morbid horror of being alone in the dark--a horrorthat, through a sensitive dread of being laughed at, she had so farconfessed to no one, but which, all the same, was very real andoverwhelming. Night after night she would lie with the curtain of hercubicle half-drawn, and the door ajar so as to catch a gleam of lightfrom the landing, listening with every nerve on the alert for she knewnot what, and enduring agonies until the welcome moment when her sisterMeta came upstairs. It was, of course, very foolish, but her terror wasprobably due to a dangerous illness from which she had suffered someyears before, and which had left a permanent delicacy. 

One evening the younger girls had retired as usual, and everything wasvery quiet in the upper stories. Evelyn lay wideawake, sometimesstraining her ears to catch a sound from the ground floor below, andsometimes burying her head in her pillow. Suddenly she sat up in bed, with wide-open, terror-stricken eyes. On the opposite wall theregleamed a strange, dancing light, which appeared and disappeared andreappeared again, flickering faintly from floor to ceiling. Thereseemed no explainable origin for it, and Evelyn's mind at once turnedto the supernatural. A silly maidservant at home had been accustomed toply her with ghost stories, all of which now recurred to her memory. What was it, that unnatural, luminous halo on the opposite wall? It wasmoving nearer to her, and had almost reached the curtain of hercubicle, when, with a choking little gasp, she sprang out of bed, anddarting into the corridor ran shrieking upstairs, her one idea being toescape from the mysterious apparition. 

Her screams not only roused all the girls on the higher rooms, butbrought up Vivian Holmes, who had been crossing the hall at the moment, and felt it her duty as monitress to go and investigate. 

"What's all this noise about?" she asked. "Evelyn, what's the matter?Has anything frightened you?"

"It's something on my wall, " panted Evelyn; "something white, thatmoves. "

"What was it like?"

"I don't know--I can't describe it. "

"Perhaps it was a ghost, " said Honor, in a hollow voice; "they comesoftly, this way, " and, pulling a horrible face, she moved slowlyforward with a gliding motion, her white night-dress completing theillusion. 

Trembling from head to foot, Evelyn turned and clung to the monitress. 

"Stop that, Honor!" exclaimed Vivian sharply. "It's a wicked thing tofrighten anybody. Come along, Evie! I'll go with you to your room, andwe'll try to find out what this mysterious 'something' is. Go back tobed at once, all the rest of you!"

After making a thorough inspection of No. 4, Vivian found that theuncanny light was, after all, very easy of explanation. It was nothingbut the reflection from a lamp outside, and the swaying of the blindhad been responsible for the movement. Having shown Evelyn theunromantic origin of her spectre, the monitress left her, apparentlypacified, and went downstairs. 

In the upper rooms all was soon in absolute stillness. The girls tookVivian's advice and retired to bed again, laughing at having beendisturbed for so trivial a cause. 

"Evelyn Fletcher is a goose!" said Flossie Taylor. "She'd run away fromher own shadow. "

"She is rather silly, " agreed Maisie Talbot. "I've no patience withpeople who imagine ghosts!"

Maisie's own nerves were of the stoutest. She certainly could notsympathize with superstitious fears, and neither flickering lights norpossible spectres would have distressed her in the least. 

"When people shriek at nothing and rouse the whole house, they deserveto have something to shriek at, " remarked Flossie. 

But Maisie was in the act of hopping into bed, and only grunted inreply, while Pauline and Lettice were already half-asleep. Flossie layfor a minute or two pondering over the affair, then got up again verysoftly. First, she felt on her washstand for her tooth powder, anddabbed her face plentifully with it till she was sure it must be whiteall over; then she took the towel, and arranged it over her head, tohide her hair. In every bedroom at St. Chad's there were a candle and abox of matches, in case the electric light should suddenly fail;Flossie groped for these and found them, and, taking them in her hand, left the room on tiptoe. 

"Where are you going?" asked Maisie drowsily, but receiving no reply, she did not even trouble to open her eyes. 

Once outside the door, Flossie lighted her candle. She was determined, in spite of Vivian's warning, to play a trick upon Evelyn. 

"She needs teasing out of such rubbish, " she said to herself. "VivianHolmes always makes an absurd fuss of her--quite spoils her, in fact. Ithink the best way to cure people is to laugh at them. "

Creeping softly downstairs, she switched off the electric light at theend of the lower landing, and, shading her candle with her hand, passedalong in the darkness to No. 4. Without pausing a moment she entered, holding up one arm in a dramatic attitude, and making her eyes glarewildly from her whitened face. The effect was beyond all that she hadanticipated. Such a scream of agonized fear came from the bed in thecorner that, alarmed at what she had done, Flossie turned and fled. Asshe ran through the door she realized that somebody was hastening alongthe dark passage, and, afraid of being discovered, she turned suddenlyand rushed up the short flight of steps that led to Honor's bedroom, blowing out her candle as she went. She crouched for a few momentsoutside the door of No. 8, then, hearing no footsteps pursuing her, sheventured to steal down again and make a dash for the stairs and theupper landing, where she whisked into No. 13 with all possible speed. 

"It was a narrow shave!" she said to herself. "If that was Vivian, andshe had caught me, I expect she'd have made herself uncommonlydisagreeable. "

In the meantime, Vivian had returned to the recreation room, and toldthe story of Evelyn's groundless fears to the elder girls assembledthere. 

"A shock of this kind is extremely bad for Evie, " said Meta. "She had anervous fever four years ago, and has been so fragile and highly-strungever since. She was sent to Chessington because we hoped the bracingair might do her good. I remember she used to have night terrors whenshe was a wee child, but we thought she had quite got over them. "

"She looks very white and delicate, " said Vivian. "She's all eyes. Ifshe were my sister, I should like to see her less 'nervy'. "

"Perhaps I had better run upstairs to her, " said Meta, ratheranxiously. "Now I think of it, I remember she always seems mostrelieved when May and Trissie and I make our appearance atnine-thirty. "

Meta found the landing in total darkness, a most unusual occurrence, asthe electric light was always left on there. She felt her way along bythe wall, and as she did so she was aware of somebody coming towardsher from the opposite end of the long corridor. Whoever it was carrieda light in her hand, so small as to make only a faint glimmer, butenough to allow Meta to perceive that she turned into No. 4. The nextmoment a cry of frantic fear issued from the room. Meta hurriedforward, her heart throbbing wildly, while the figure, rushing from theroom, and showing in its hasty flight a white-veiled head, darted upthe steps to No. 8, and disappeared, light and all. 

It did not take Meta more than three seconds to reach her sister'sbedside. Strangled sounds issued from under the clothes, where Evelynlay cowering in mortal terror; and again, as Meta placed her hand onthe bed, came that convulsive, half-stifled cry. 

"Evie! Evie dear! Don't you know me?" exclaimed Meta. 

Realizing at last who stood near, Evelyn sat up and flung her armsround her sister. She was in a most agitated, hysterical condition, trembling and quivering with sobs. Meta soothed her as well as shecould, and requested Vivian, who had followed to see that all wasright, to switch on the bedroom light, and also the one in the passage. 

"Someone must have intentionally turned it off, " she said, "on purposeto play this trick. "

"I know I'm silly!" choked Evelyn, more reassured now that the room wasno longer in darkness, "but I can't help it. I really thought it was aghost. "

"Who is responsible for this?" asked Vivian indignantly. 

"Honor Fitzgerald, " replied Meta, without hesitation. 

"Are you sure?"

"Whoever it was ran back into No. 8. Janie Henderson would never dreamof doing such a thing, so it must have been Honor. "

"She certainly was pretending to be a ghost upstairs, " said Vivian. "Ishall go and tell her my opinion of her, " and she departed with a verygrim expression on her face. 

Janie and Honor were half-asleep when Vivian, like an avenging angel, entered No. 8. 

"Look here, Honor Fitzgerald!" she began, "if you try any more of thosesenseless practical jokes, I shall report you to Miss Maitland. I'mmonitress here, and I don't intend to have this kind of thing going onat St. Chad's. "

"What's the matter?" asked Honor, rubbing her eyes. 

"Matter, indeed! You know as well as I do. It was a cruel, mean trickto play upon a nervous, delicate girl like Evie Fletcher. "

Honor was considerably astonished. She, of course, knew nothing ofFlossie's escapade, and imagined that the monitress must be referringto the few words she had said on the upper landing. 

"Why, Evie didn't seem to mind all that much!" she retorted. 

"You've frightened her most seriously, and I consider it so dangerousthat I'd rather you were expelled from the school than that it shouldhappen again. I don't want to get you into trouble at head-quarters ifI can help it, so I'll say nothing if you'll promise me faithfully thatthis is absolutely the last time you'll ever act ghost. "

"Of course I'll promise. I didn't intend to upset Evie. I think bothyou and she are making a great fuss about nothing, " replied Honor, lying down once more. 

"I'm disgusted with you, Honor Fitzgerald! If you can't realize themischief your thoughtlessness has done, you might at least have thegrace to be sorry for it! To amuse yourself by playing on the fears ofa timid girl, younger than you, is the work of a coward--yes, a coward!That's what I consider you!" and Vivian turned away, full of righteouswrath, and wondering whether she had adequately fulfilled hermonitorial duty, or whether she ought to have said even more. 

CHAPTER IX

Diamond cut Diamond

Honor was both amazed and indignant at Vivian's stern rebuke. Sheappealed to Janie in self-justification. 

"I don't understand it, " she declared. "I only screwed up my face, andsaid ghosts glided. I stopped at once when Vivian asked me. How couldEvelyn have been so fearfully frightened just at that?"

"I can't imagine, " said Janie, "except that she's such an extremelynervous girl. "

"It's too bad to blame me on that account. "

"Vivian is generally very severe. "

"She's always down on me! I'm continually in hot water, and half thetime I don't know exactly why. "

It was not until the next afternoon that Honor learnt of the practicaljoke that had been practised upon her schoolfellow. As she was washingher hands in the dressing-room she chanced to overhear a few remarksbetween two or three girls who were discussing the affair, and at oncequestioned them about it. 

"Of course Meta knew it was you, Honor!" said Ruth Latimer, ratherreproachfully. 

"Why of course?" asked Honor. 

"Because it couldn't be anyone else. You're always playing tricks uponsomeone. "

"It's a case of 'give a dog a bad name', then. I'm innocent for once. "

"But the ghost ran up the steps to No. 8!"

"That's only 'circumstantial evidence'. I certainly didn't do it. Janiecan tell you that I never left the bedroom. "

"Yes, I could take my oath in a law court, as a reliable witness, "vouched Janie. 

"Then who was it?"

Honor shook her head. 

"Ask me a harder!" she said briefly. 

Flossie, who was standing near, looked rather conscious, butvolunteered no explanation. 

"It's a most peculiar thing, " said Ruth. "Somebody must have been theghost, I suppose. "

"Unless it were a real one!" suggested Flossie. "It might----"

"What nonsense! Nobody believes in ghosts, except, perhaps, Evelyn, "interrupted Ruth scornfully. "Of course, it was a girl playing a trick. The only question is, who?"

"Could it be May or Trissie Turner?" suggested Flossie. 

"Impossible! Evelyn's own cousins--and in the Sixth Form, too!"

"It's very extraordinary!"

"It ought to be properly cleared up, " said Lettice Talbot. 

"Suppose we ask every girl in the house if she knows anything, "proposed Dorothy Arkwright. 

"No; Meta begged us to let the matter drop, " replied Ruth. "She saysEvelyn is extremely sensitive about it, and can't bear the subjectalluded to. "

"Evelyn looked very ill this morning, " observed Dorothy. 

"Yes; Meta says she has had a severe shock, and the least reference toit might upset her again. "

"So it will have to remain unexplained?"

"I suppose so, " said Flossie. "It seems a complete mystery. "

"Why, Flossie!" exclaimed Maisie Talbot suddenly, "didn't I hear youget up last night, after Vivian had gone downstairs and we had marchedoff to bed again? I remember I called out to you, but I was too sleepyto wake up properly. I verily believe it must have been you whofrightened Evelyn. Honestly now, was it?"

Flossie turned very red. She would have continued to shield herself atHonor's expense if it had been any longer possible, but she was notprepared to tell a direct falsehood. There was no way out of it but toconfess. 

"What a storm in a teacup!" she replied, shrugging her shoulders. "It'sabsurd if one can't play the least joke without a monitress interferingand making a ridiculous fuss. It was only meant for fun; I should havelaughed if anybody had done it to me. "

"It's no laughing matter, " said Maisie gravely. "In the first place, though Evelyn may be silly, you had no right to frighten her; and inthe second place, you deliberately let the blame rest on Honor'sshoulders. "

"Vivian ought to be told of this, " declared Dorothy. 

"Yes, she must know at once, " added Ruth. 

"Oh, please don't go sneaking to the monitress on my account!"interposed Honor. "If Meta wants the affair to drop, it shall. Both sheand Vivian took it for granted last night that I had acted the ghost inNo. 4; they never asked me, or gave me a chance of denying it, so Ishan't trouble to undeceive them. If Vivian has such a poor opinion ofme already, she shan't think me a tell-tale in addition. As forFlossie, she's not worth noticing. "

"But telling a monitress isn't like telling a teacher, " objected Ruth. 

"It savours of sneaking, and I prefer to leave it alone. What does itmatter? I don't care about anybody's opinion!"

Honor was on her high horse. She had been much hurt by Vivian'sinjustice, and all the Fitzgerald pride was roused within her. Notwithstanding the girls' remonstrances, she would not allow herselfto be cleared of the false charge. 

"The whole thing is altogether beneath me, " she remarked, as shestalked haughtily away. 

"It's no good trying to persuade her, " said Lettice. "When she putsthat set look on her face, arguments are absolutely useless. "

"On the whole, I think I rather admire her for saying nothing, "commented Maisie. "It's more dignified than making a fuss. I can'ttolerate tale-bearing myself. It would have got Flossie into a terrificscrape with Vivian, and probably with Miss Maitland as well. "

"Flossie doesn't deserve to go scot-free, " said Ruth, with a glance atthe flaxen head that was discreetly disappearing through the door. 

"She won't!" asserted Lettice. "Honor is the most contrary, queer, impossible, perverse girl I've ever met. She'll let Flossie off easilynow, but she'll make her pay for it in some other way. I could see itin her eye. She was as cool as a cucumber outside, but I'm sure thatwas only the crust over the crater, and that there was the usualvolcano inside. It's bound to find a safety-valve, so Flossie hadbetter look out for squalls!"

Lettice was right. Honor was certainly in a most unenviable frame ofmind. She considered that Vivian had treated her unfairly in assumingher to be guilty without making any proper investigation. 

"It's the first time a Fitzgerald has ever been called a coward!" shesaid to Janie. 

The word rankled in her memory even more than the monitress'shigh-handed manner. 

"Then you must use every opportunity of showing that you're thereverse, " replied Janie. "You'll have to live the thing down. I expectthe truth will come round to Vivian's ears in course of time, and I'msure that she'll think far better of you than if we had gone at once toher with a long accusation against Flossie. If Flossie herself hadoffered to tell, that would have been different; but she didn't rise tosuch a pitch of heroism. "

"One wouldn't expect it from Flossie Taylor!" said Honorcontemptuously, as she hurried off to her music lesson. 

I am afraid Honor's scales that day were anything but a satisfaction toFräulein Bernhardt, the piano teacher. Her mind was so abstracted thatshe kept continually playing wrong fingering, or even an occasionalwrong note in the harmonic minors. Her study was little better, and herpiece a dead failure. The mistress, with characteristic Germanpatience, set her to work to try to conquer a couple of difficultphrases, through which Honor stumbled again and again, each time withthe same old mistakes, until the end of the half-hour. 

"I find you not yet fit to take share in ze evening pairformance!"sighed poor Fräulein, whose musical ear had been much distressed bythis mangling of her favourite tarantella. "Zere must be more ofimprovement before ve render ze piece to Mees Maitland. You say you notvish to play in publique? Ach, so! Zat is vat zey all say; but it isgood to begin young to get over ze fear--vat you call ze 'shyness'--isit not so?"

Fräulein Bernhardt was an excellent teacher--patient, conscientious, and enthusiastic. She tried to inspire all her pupils with her own lovefor music, and with some indeed she succeeded, though with others itproved a more difficult task. 

"I'm almost impossible!" avowed Lettice Talbot. "I believe I'm nearlyas bad as the old fellow who declared he only knew two tunes--one was'God Save the King', and the other wasn't. "

"You certainly have a particularly leaden touch, " agreed DorothyArkwright. "The way you hammer out Mendelssohn is enough to try mynerves, so I'm sure it must be an offence to Fräulein. "

"I think it's stupid to be obliged to learn the piano when you'veabsolutely no taste for it, " yawned Lettice. "I'm going to ask Fatherto let me give it up next term. "

"Don't!" interposed Vivian Holmes, who happened to overhear Lettice'sremark. "I went through that same phase myself, when I was fourteen. Iimplored my mother to allow me to stop music, and she had nearlyconsented when I met a lady who advised me most strongly to go on. Shesaid she couldn't play herself, and regretted it immensely now she wasgrown-up, and would be thankful if she could manage even a hymn tune. So I did go on, and now I'm very glad. I'm certain you'll like itbetter, Lettice, when you've got over more of the drudgery. "

"Perhaps it will never be anything but drudgery for me!"

"Oh, yes, it will! We shall have you taking part in the 'Friday firsts'yet. "

On the first Friday in every month Miss Maitland held a "MutualImprovement Evening", at which all who were sufficiently advanced wereexpected to contribute by playing, singing, or reciting. These werequite informal gatherings, only Chaddites being present. Miss Cavendishconsidered it good for teachers and pupils to meet thus socially, and asimilar arrangement obtained at each house. To many of the girls, however, it was more of an ordeal to be obliged to perform before theirschoolfellows than it would have been to play to strangers. 

"I'm always nervous, in any case, " said Pauline Reynolds; "butstrangers don't criticize one openly afterwards, whatever they maythink in private. I feel it's perfectly dreadful to have Fräulein andMiss Maitland and Miss Parkinson sitting on one side, and all of you ina row on the other!"

"But we're very polite, " urged Lettice. "We say, 'Thank you!'"

Honor had not yet been considered proficient enough to take an activepart in the monthly entertainment, but Flossie's name was one of thefirst on the list. She played the violin remarkably well, better thanalmost anybody else at Chessington; and as she was seldom nervous, herpieces were generally very successful. The day following EvelynFletcher's fright happened to be "Mutual Improvement Friday". The girlsonly spent a short time at preparation, and then went upstairs tochange their dresses. The meetings were always held in thedrawing-room, and were rather festive in character. Miss Maitland triedto make them as much as possible like ordinary parties; she receivedthe girls as guests, encouraged them to converse with herself and theother teachers, and had coffee served to them during the evening. 

On this particular occasion Flossie made a very careful toilet, and shecertainly looked nice in her pretty, embroidered white muslin dress, her fair hair tied with big bows of palest blue ribbon. She took a lastglance at herself in the looking-glass, then, seizing her violin, whichshe had brought to her cubicle, she prepared to go downstairs. 

In passing Miss Maitland's bedroom on the lower landing, she noticedthat the door stood open, and that no one was within. There was a largemirror in the wardrobe, and, catching a glimpse of her own reflectionas she went by, she stopped suddenly, and could not resist thetemptation to run in for a moment and take a full-length view ofherself as she would appear when she was playing her piece. She raisedher violin and struck a suitable attitude, and was immensely pleasedwith the result that faced her--the dainty dress, the blue bows, thecoral cheeks, flaxen hair, and bright eyes all made a charming picture, and the position in which she held her instrument was particularlygraceful. She drew her bow gently over the strings, to observe thecurve of her slender wrist and well-shaped arm. It was gratifying toknow that she would make such a good appearance before herschoolfellows. Once again she played a few notes, for the sheersatisfaction of watching her slim, white fingers in the glass. 

Alas for Flossie! That single bar of Schubert's Serenade was herundoing. Honor chanced to be passing the door at the identical moment, and, hearing the strain of music, peeped inside. She grasped thesituation at a glance. 

"Oho, Miss Flossie! So I've caught you prinking!" she said to herself. "You're evidently practising your very best company smile for thisevening. What a disappointment it would be to you, now, if you were notable to play that piece after all!"

Honor had a resourceful mind. Very gently she put her hand inside thedoor and abstracted the key, which, with equal caution, she fitted intothe keyhole on the outside; then, quickly shutting the door, she lockedit, and ran away before Flossie had even discovered that anybody Wasthere. The latter naturally noticed the slight noise and turned round, but she was too late; and though she rattled the handle, and knockedand called, it was of no avail. Honor, as it happened, had been thelast girl to go downstairs, and there was nobody left on either landingto hear even the most frantic thumps. Flossie rushed to the electricbell, hoping to bring a servant to her assistance; but it was out oforder, and would not ring. She was in a terrible dilemma: if she madetoo much noise one of the teachers, or even Miss Maitland herself, might come upstairs to see what was the matter; on the other hand, there she was locked up fast and secure, missing the "evening", andwith an equal chance of being found out in the end, and asked to givesome explanation of her presence in the mistress's room. 

In the meantime, Honor went downstairs chuckling. She entered thedrawing-room in the highest of spirits, paid her respects to MissMaitland, and found a seat close to the door. The musical part of theperformance, she ascertained, was to come first, and after coffee therewere to be recitations, and a dialogue in French. A neat programme hadbeen written out and was laid on the top of the piano, so that it couldbe referred to by Vivian Holmes, who was conductress of the ceremonies. 

It was late already, and the proceedings began immediately. The roomwas crowded, and amongst the forty girls nobody seemed to haveparticularly remarked Flossie's absence, and no enquiry was made forher, until the close of the song that preceded her violin solo. 

"Where is Flossie Taylor?" whispered Vivian then, with a look of markedannoyance on her face. "Her _Serenade_ comes next. She ought to bestanding by the piano. Has anybody seen her? Please pass the questionon. "

She paused a moment or two in great impatience; then, as no Flossie putin an appearance, she turned to Meta Fletcher and May Turner, whofollowed on the programme, and asked them to begin their duet. 

"I can't wait for anybody, " she remarked. "If Flossie isn't ready, Imust simply miss her out. We've almost too many pieces to get throughin the time. "

The rest of the music went off successfully. Nobody broke down, or evenmade a bad stumble, a subject of much self-congratulation to severalnervous performers and of great relief to Vivian, who, as monitress ofthe house, always arranged the little concerts as a surprise for MissMaitland, the latter preferring that the girls should settle alldetails amongst themselves, instead of leaving matters to a teacher. 

Coffee was brought in at eight o'clock, after which the recitationsbegan immediately. At this state of the entertainment Honor feltmagnanimous. She did not want to involve Flossie in serious trouble, so, slipping quietly away, she ran upstairs, unlocked the door of MissMaitland's bedroom, and released her prisoner. 

The disappointed violinist emerged looking decidedly glum. 

"It's a nasty, mean trick you've played me, Honor Fitzgerald!" sheburst out. 

"No meaner than you played on Evelyn Fletcher--not half so bad, in myopinion. I'm sorry to say you're too late for your solo. The music'sover long ago, and they're hard at work reciting Shakespeare atpresent. "

"Just what I expected! And it's all your fault!"

"You're very ungrateful! You ought to be most relieved to be let outbefore Miss Maitland caught you, " retorted Honor. "What an opportunityto point a moral on the fatal consequences of vanity!" Then, as Flossieflounced angrily away: "You've never thanked me for unlocking this dooryet. I thought we were supposed to cultivate manners at St. Chad's. IfVivian asks where you've been, I suppose you'll tell her?"

"I certainly shan't! And you'll be a sneak if you do. "

"All right, all right! Keep your little temper! You may make your mindeasy; I don't intend to do anything of the sort, " called Honor, watching Flossie's back as her victim hurried out of earshot down thepassage. "It has been a delightful evening, " she continued to herself;"really quite the jolliest since I came to Chessington. I'm afraid I'vehad the lion's share of the enjoyment, but that couldn't be helped. Itcertainly is a most immense satisfaction to feel that Flossie Taylorand I are now exactly quits!"

CHAPTER X

Honor Finds Favour

Honor was undoubtedly finding Chessington College a totally differentplace from Kilmore Castle, and in the six weeks she had spent there shehad already learnt many lessons quite apart from textbooks. The wildestbird cannot fly with its wings clipped, and at school Honor was sobound round with conventionalities and restrictions that she neverdreamt of raising such turbulent scenes as had sometimes been her wontat home. The calm, firm administration of Miss Cavendish, MissMaitland's wise control, and Miss Farrar's brisk authority, all seemedindisputable; and even the regulations of Vivian Holmes might not bedefied with impunity. The Fitzgerald pride could not tolerate a lowplace in class, therefore Honor prepared her work carefully, so thatshe might be above Flossie Taylor and Effie Lawson, emulation urgingher to efforts which love of learning alone would not have effected. She did not indulge so frequently as before in either "tantrums" orbursts of temper, for these provoked such ridicule from the other girlsthat she felt rather ashamed of them; and even her overflowing spiritsbegan to be modified to the level of what was considered "good form" atChessington. 

There is a vast power in public opinion, and Honor, who at Kilmore hadlived according to a model of her own choosing, now found herselfinsensibly falling in with the general tone of the College, andacquiring the mental shibboleths of her schoolfellows. Naturally allthis was not accomplished at once, and "Paddy Pepper-box", as she wasstill nicknamed, had many outbreaks and relapses; but by the time thehalf-term arrived, Miss Maitland, in a long talk with Miss Cavendish, was able to report that "Honor Fitzgerald was marvellously improved". 

"She has the elements of a very fine character, " said thehouse-mistress, "though at present it is like a statue that is still inthe rough block of marble: it will take much shaping and carving beforethe real beauty appears. There is sterling good in her, in spite ofcertain glaring faults. She is at a most critical, impressionable age, and will require careful management. Everything depends upon whatstandards she forms now. "

Though the whole atmosphere of St. Chad's had its effect upon Honor, she owed more than even Miss Maitland guessed to the influence of JanieHenderson. Janie seemed to have the power of drawing out all that wasbest in her friend's disposition. In some subtle fashion she appearedto demand the good, and, by presupposing it was there, to bring itactually into existence. Many new ideas of duty, consideration forothers, and self-restraint, that had never before occurred to Honor, now began to take root and grow--feebly at first, but the seed wasthere, and the fruit would come afterwards. It was Janie who put thefirst suggestion into her mind that life was more than a mereplayground, and that other people have paramount claims on us, thefulfilling of which can bring a purer joy than that of pleasingourselves; Janie who, by implying what a comfort an only daughter mightbe to father, mother, and brothers, made her realize how utterly shehad so far failed to be anything but a care; and Janie whose highideals and aspirations raised future possibilities of helpfulness ofwhich she had not hitherto dreamt, for until she came to St. Chad'sHonor had not heard of girls taking up careers, or fitting themselvesfor any special work. 

"I don't mean earning one's own living, " said Janie. "Neither you nor Iwill probably ever have to do that, and Mother says it is hardly rightfor women who have independent incomes to overcrowd professions, anddrive out those who are obliged to keep themselves. What I want is tosettle on some useful thing, and then to do it thoroughly. I've a largefamily of cousins in town, and they all are so busy, each in adifferent way. One has trained as a Princess Christian nurse, and nowgoes three days a week to give help at a crčche. She took me once tosee the babies; they were the very poorest of the poor, but werebeautifully clean, and so good. Beatrice simply loves them. ThenMillicent, the second girl, has learnt wood-carving and metal-work, andtakes a class at a Lads' Recreation Club. One of her boys has turnedout so clever that he has been sent to the Technical Schools to study'applied arts'. Milly is tremendously proud of him, particularly as hecomes from such a wretched, lost, drunken home. Barbara is verymusical--she teaches singing at a Factory Girls' Club; and Mabel helpswith a Children's Happy Evening Society. "

"But can you do those kinds of things in the country?" asked Honor. 

"I'm going to try, when I leave school. I thought if I could learnambulance work I could have a 'First Aid' class for the village girls. Most of them don't know how to dress a burn, or bind up a wound. I haveanother scheme too. "

"What's that?"

"It's so ambitious, I'd better not talk about it. Perhaps the ambulancework will be enough for a beginning, and the other could follow. Well, if you insist upon my telling you, I should like to get up alace-making industry among the girls in our village. I read an articlein a magazine about someone who had revived the old Honiton patterns ata place in Devonshire. "

"A few of the women make lace in our neighbourhood, " said Honor. 

"How splendid! Then you could start the same at Kilmore, and we couldkeep comparing notes, and get specimens sent to exhibitions--the 'IrishIndustries', you know, or 'Peasants' Handicrafts'. It's such a pitythat everything should be done by machinery nowadays! Why, you mighthave quite a thriving colony of lacemakers at Kilmore--the women couldbe working at their 'pillows' while the men are out fishing. If I beginat Redcliffe, will you promise to try the experiment too?"

Such a proposal as introducing a new occupation for the tenants on herfather's demesne almost took Honor's breath away; yet to her activemind it was rather attractive, and she drew a rapid mental picture ofthe little barefooted colleens of Kilmore seated at their cabin doors, plying the bobbins with deft fingers. Janie's ardour was infectious, and if Honor were not yet ready to agree to all her plans, at least shecaught enough enthusiasm to be interested in the subject, and to admitthat it was a dream worthy some day of realization. 

In the meantime, the ordinary school course gave ample scope for theenergies of both girls. Janie, though a great reader, was backward inmany subjects, and was obliged to study hard to keep up with the restof the class; while Honor, naturally far more clever, had not beenaccustomed to apply her brains in any systematic fashion. The work ofthe Lower Third was stiff enough to need constant application, unlessthe girls wished to earn the reputation of "slackers", a distinctionwhich neither coveted. Besides their mental exertions, Honor, at anyrate, wished to maintain her credit in the playing-fields. Janie hadlong ago given up all hope of becoming a good cricketer, or even amoderate tennis player. She was not fond of exercise. To use her ownphrase, she "hated to be made to run about". Her ideal of bliss was tobe left to wander round the grounds with a book; but as this waspermitted only on Sundays, she was forced on weekdays, much against herinclination, to take her due part in the games. She even went thelength of envying Muriel Cunliffe, whose sprained ankle did not allowher to hobble farther than the garden for five weeks; and hailed withdelight the occasions when the school filed out for a walk on themoors, instead of the usual routine of fielding, batting, or bowling, all of which she equally detested. 

During the latter part of the summer term, when the weather wassufficiently warm, swimming was included among the outdoor sports. There was a large bath behind the gymnasium, and here every girl wasobliged to learn her strokes, and to be reported as "proficient", before she was allowed to venture on a dip in the ocean. Those whoreached the required stage of independence were taken in classes ofabout twelve to practise under the critical superintendence of MissYoung. The bathing-place was a sheltered cove among the cliffs, not farfrom the College, and reached by a footpath and a flight of steps cutin the rock. On the strip of shore stood a big wooden hut, partitionedoff into small dressing-rooms; and a causeway of flat stones had beenmade down to the water, to avoid the sharp flints of the shingly beach. 

Janie, though not an expert swimmer, had passed her novitiate, andthoroughly enjoyed a leisurely round of the bay, with as much floatingincluded as Miss Young would allow. To Honor the sea was as a secondelement. She had been accustomed to it from her babyhood, and was asfearless as any of her brothers. She soon gave proof of her ability inthe bath, and was straightway placed among those Chaddites who wereprivileged to visit the sea. 

It was a glorious afternoon in the middle of June when she started forher first trial of the waves of the Channel. 

"It can't be anything like so rough as the Atlantic, " she declared. "I've swum out sometimes when there was a swell on, and it was quitedifficult to get back. "

"Of course, we're not allowed to go when it's rough, " said Janie. "To-day I expect it will be as smooth as a millpond. I'm so glad you'renot a beginner, and only learning to struggle round the bath!"

"So am I. To judge from Madge Summers's achievements yesterday, itdoesn't look like a pleasant performance. She appeared to be trying todrown herself. "

"Madge is horribly clumsy! I don't believe she'll ever manage to keepafloat properly. She always flounders unless she has one foot at thebottom. Pauline Reynolds wouldn't venture into the water at all atfirst; Miss Young had to push her in. I shall never forget how sheshrieked; and she was so frightened, she actually swam three strokes!"

"Poor old Pauline! It was hard luck on her. "

"Yes, it couldn't have been particularly nice. I didn't altogetherappreciate learning myself, with a row of horrid Hilaryites sitting onthe diving-board and jeering at my best efforts. However, 'those brightdays are o'er', and now 'I hear the ocean roar', as the poem says. "

Each Chaddite was required to carry her own bathing costume and towel, and to wait in the quadrangle for Vivian Holmes, who was to escort theparty down to the cove. Miss Young was already on duty, superintendinga batch of Aldwythites, who were to have the first half-hour in thewater, and who must vacate the dressing-hut before the secondcontingent arrived. 

"I wonder if there'll be any trippers to-day, " said Lettice Talbot, winding her towel artistically round her hat, and letting the ends falllike a pugaree. "Sometimes excursionists from Dunscar walk along thebeach, and insist upon stopping to look at us. "

"Are they allowed?" asked Honor. 

"We can't help it. The beach is common property, and though the Collegegot permission to put up a wooden shanty, it has no power to preventanybody who likes from coming past. Some people are the greatestnuisance. They bring cakes and bags of shrimps, and sit down on therocks to eat them while they watch us. "

"What cheek!"

"Yes; we glower at them in as withering a manner as we can, but theydon't seem to mind in the least. I suppose they think we're part of theseaside amusements, like the niggers, or the pierrots. "

"Fortunately, that doesn't happen often, " said Ruth Latimer. "We'veonly been really annoyed once or twice; Lettice loves to exaggerate. The cove is about the quietest spot on the whole shore. Here's Vivian;it must be time to set off. "

Honor was in her liveliest spirits as they walked along the cliffs. Shewas overflowing with Irish blarney and nonsense, asking absurd riddlesand making bad puns, and sending the other girls into such fits oflaughter that Vivian called them to order. 

"Don't be so horribly noisy!" she said. "Honor Fitzgerald, I wish youwere more sensible. "

"I'm very contrite, " replied Honor cheerfully. "You see, I've neverbeen taught to be serious-minded. I'm quite ready to learn, though, ifyou'll set me someone to copy. Would this be better?" and she put on anexpression of such lugubrious gloom that the rest could not suppresstheir mirth. 

Vivian did not seem to appreciate equally the humour of the situation. She was rather jealous of her position as monitress, and not unwillingto show her authority. Moreover, she was responsible for the conduct ofthe girls, who were expected to comport themselves discreetly on apublic footpath. 

Honor was not a favourite of hers. Vivian considered her too forward, and thought she made a troublesome element at St. Chad's. In heropinion, a new-comer in her first term ought not to attempt to obtrudeherself, but should follow the lead of those who had been some years atthe school. She told her rather sharply, therefore, to come and walkwith her, and made the others go two and two, in a due and orderlyfashion. 

"I see some people coming along the cliffs, " she said, "and I should bemost ashamed if it were reported that the Chessington girls don't knowhow to behave themselves. "

"I wonder whether she's taking the opportunity to try to improvePaddy's mind on the way, " laughed Lettice to Ruth Latimer. 

"She'll have a difficult task, then, " remarked Ruth. "I can't imaginePaddy engaged in very deep and serious discourse. "

By the time the St. Chad's party had climbed down the rocky steps on tothe beach, the Aldwythites were just emerging from the hut, a lively, bareheaded little company, spreading their hair to dry in the wind andsunshine. 

"It's simply delicious in the sea to-day, " they called out; "quitewarm, and as calm as possible. "

The Chaddites had soon donned their bathing costumes, and wentscampering down the causeway to take the coveted plunge into the waves. 

"I don't know anything more glorious than the first few strokes ofone's swim, " said Lettice, floating for a moment or two by Honor'sside. "I'm sure a frog couldn't enjoy it more, and a duck simply isn'tin it!"

Honor seemed as much at home in the water as the fishes, and MissYoung, after watching her progress near the shore, gave her permissionto go with the more advanced members of the class for a tour of thebay. 

"I shall not be far off myself, " she remarked, "and of course you mustcome back the instant I call to you. "

"Miss Young generally stays close to the girls who aren't so much usedto it, in case they should get cramp, or turn giddy, " explainedLettice. "Beatrice Marsden and Ivy Ridgeway are only beginning, so Iexpect she'll paddle about with them in four feet of water. JanieHenderson never ventures very far either. "

Once out in the bay, Honor began to distinguish herself, greatly to thedelight of her admiring friends. She swam on her side and on her back, dived to pick up stones, and even contrived to make a wheel. 

"How plucky you are!" exclaimed Lettice. "I should never dare toattempt such feats; but then, I haven't the sea to practise in at home. Look at Chatty; she's trying to do a wheel too. I know she'll come togrief. Chatty! Do you want us to have to practise life-saving?"

"No, thank you, " said Chatty; "I was only seeing what I could manage. Look here! suppose we swim right round the bay. We can take a restevery now and then by floating and towing each other along. "

Though there were no excursionists on the shore that day, the girlsnoticed a small boat bobbing about near the point of the cliffs. Itcontained three people, who were evidently visitors from Dunscar. Ayoung man in his shirt sleeves, with a pocket-handkerchief tied overhis head, was rowing in a very awkward fashion, as if it were the firsttime he had handled a pair of oars; while his companions, girls ofabout sixteen and seventeen, kept jumping up and changing places, orleaning suddenly over the side to catch pieces of seaweed. 

"Vivian might complain of their laughing, " said Lettice. "Just listento them! Aren't they fearfully vulgar?"

"Cheap trippers come over for the day, no doubt, " said Chatty. "Look!One of the girls is pretending to throw the young man's hat overboard, and he's trying to clutch it. "

"The silly things! They're making that boat heel over far more than Ishould appreciate, if I were inside her, " remarked Honor. "I don'tbelieve they know there's any danger. "

"I wonder they were allowed to go out without taking a boatman. I'msure it's not safe, " said Lettice. 

The three young excursionists were still struggling and fighting overthe hat when round the corner of the headland came the steamer fromWesthaven, steering much closer to the shore than was her custom. Shehad started late, and her captain was trying to make up for lost time;and, in consequence, she was going at top speed. Her screw made such atremendous wash that in a moment the sea was as rough as if there hadbeen a storm. The bathers felt themselves tossed about like corks, andstruck out as hard as they could for the shore, trying to keep abreastof the waves that threatened to overpower them. The next moment therewas a chorus of wild, agonized shrieks, and the little cockle-shell ofa boat whirled rapidly past, upside down, the young man and one girlclinging desperately to it, with white, terror-stricken faces. Theother girl was nowhere to be seen. She rose in a few seconds, however, struggling violently, and sank again; then, when she came up for thesecond time, she had drifted a good distance farther on, and wasstrangely quiet. 

The Chaddites had been separated by the sudden shock of the unexpectedoccurrence. Lettice found it as much as she could manage to keep herhead above water, and Chatty acknowledged afterwards that she had neverbefore felt in such danger of her life. Honor, however, was swimmingfast in the direction of the drowning pleasure-seeker, and seized herjust as she was on the point of going down for the third time. Luckilythe poor girl had lost consciousness, and so did not grip her rescuer, or it might have ended fatally for them both. As it was, Honor was ableto put her arm under her and keep her afloat while she called loudlyfor help. 

But no one could come immediately. The heavy sea had got Ivy Ridgewayinto difficulties, and Miss Young dared not leave her while she wasstill out of her depth; and the others were only able to savethemselves: so Honor was obliged to do her best alone. By this time thesteamer had stopped and was lowering one of its boats, but it tookseveral minutes before the latter could be launched. 

"Hold on a bit!" the sailors shouted encouragingly to Honor; and oncethey were clear of the vessel, they rowed with a will. 

They reached the pair at last, and lifted the unfortunate girl, insensible and helpless as a log, over the gunwale. 

"Better let us take you in too, miss!" said the coxswain to Honor. 

"No, thanks; I'm all right, " she replied, and, turning round, she swamstraight back to the shore. 

The passengers on the steamer gave cheer after cheer as they watchedthe little figure making its way so pluckily; and more than one personheaved a sigh of relief when it arrived in shallow water, and walkedout on to the beach. 

Meanwhile, the boat had picked up the young man and the other girl, whohad clung to their upturned craft till they were in the last stage ofexhaustion. 

Poor Miss Young actually shed tears when she saw all her class safe andsound on dry land once more--a weakness of which her pupils never knewher to be guilty before or after. 

"I'm not sure if I don't feel a little bit weepy myself, " said MaisieTalbot. "Lettice is not a remarkably strong swimmer, and when I saw herso far out in the bay I thought--But there! it's over now, and I won'timagine horrible tragedies. "

"It was a near shave for several of us, " said Chatty soberly. 

Honor took the whole affair with the utmost coolness; indeed, sheinsisted upon treating it almost as a joke. 

"One doesn't always have the luck of picking up a mermaid, " shedeclared. "I may find Father Neptune, or the Sirens, if I go a littlefarther; or perhaps I might drag back the sea serpent, as a neat littlespecimen for the school museum. If the trippers are often going toprovide us with such entertainment, we shall have very lively times atbathing. "

"All the same, I'm sure she's more upset about it than she pretends, "said Lettice. "Her hands were trembling so much when she was dressing, she could scarcely button her blouse. It's just like her, though; she'drather say something funny any time, than look serious. "

Miss Young praised Honor highly for her "splendid bravery and presenceof mind", and Miss Maitland added warm words of commendation. As forthe Chaddites, they could scarcely make enough of her. 

"No other house can show such a record, " said Maisie enthusiastically. "We've beaten St. Hilary's hollow!"

"And even the School House, " added Chatty, "though their monitress oncestopped a runaway donkey on the shore. "

"Paddy, we're proud of you!" said Lettice. 

"Please don't say any more about it!" protested Honor. "I was onlyenjoying myself. I feel a great deal prouder when I've finished a sumin cube root, because I simply hate arithmetic. Swimming is as easy tome as walking, and I'm sure you'd each have done the same if youcould. "

Naturally, Honor was the heroine of the school, especially as theaffair got into the newspapers, and the Royal Humane Society wrote tosay that she would be presented with a medal in recognition of hercourage. The father and mother of the girl whose life she had savedcalled with their daughter at the College, and begged to be allowed toexpress their gratitude, so Honor was sent for by the head mistress. She would have been glad to avoid what seemed to her an embarrassinginterview, but there was no escape. 

"These people have come on purpose to see you, " said Miss Maitland; "itwould be not only discourteous but unkind if you were to refuse tospeak to them. "

Honor had not been in Miss Cavendish's study since the memorableoccasion when she had so injudiciously sported the shamrock, and as sheentered the beautiful, old-world room again she could not help afeeling of wonder at how much had happened since she had first set footthere, and of relief that this second summons should be forapprobation, instead of blame. 

She would give no account afterwards of what took place, or what thegirl's parents said to her, though Lettice was full of curiosity andpressed her for particulars. 

"Look here!" she exclaimed; "if anybody says another word to me aboutthis business, I shall leave St. Chad's and go across to St. Hilary's. I should be sorry to desert you all, but I'm sick of the very sound of'life-saving'! As for the medal, I'm thankful to say it will be sent tome by post during the holidays, so there'll be no dreadful ordeal ofpresentation. Now, I've told you as much as I intend, so please goaway, and let me do my preparation in peace!"

CHAPTER XI

A Relapse

Towards the end of June there was a burst of very warm weather, sosultry and hot as to make games, or any form of violent exertion, almost an impossibility. Ruth Latimer fainted one day when she wasfielding, after which Miss Cavendish absolutely prohibited cricket inthe blazing sun, and set to work to devise other means of occupation. The girls themselves would have been ready enough to lounge about allthe afternoon in the grounds, chatting and doing nothing, but of thatthe head mistress did not approve; she considered it might tend toencourage habits of gossip and idling, and much preferred that everyoneshould have some definite employment. She temporarily altered the hoursof work, setting preparation from two until four, so that in theevening the school might be free to go out and enjoy the breeze thatoften rose towards sunset. In the circumstances, this really seemed abetter division of time, for during the early afternoon it was actuallycooler in the house, with sunblinds drawn to protect the windows, thanout-of-doors; and though there were many groans at having to learnlessons and write exercises immediately after dinner, on the whole thechange was regarded with favour. General public opinion would havedecided on swimming as the most suitable occupation in the state of thethermometer, but since the events related in the last chapter MissCavendish would not allow more than eight girls to go into the sea atonce. 

"It is as many as Miss Young can undertake to be responsible for, " shesaid. "Steamers are frequently passing between Westhaven and Dunscar, and they seem to take a course nearer the coast than formerly. The washfrom them is so exceedingly strong that it is wiser to run no risks. "

Bathing, therefore, was conducted in small detachments, and thoughfresh relays went each day to the cove, it took so long to work throughthe whole school that nobody seemed to have the chance of a secondturn. Miss Cavendish, however, was never at a loss. Everyone with theslightest aptitude for drawing was provided with paper and pencil, andtaken out to sketch from nature. Those who possessed paint-boxes wereencouraged to work in colours, and the head mistress, who had herselfno little skill, gave many useful hints on the putting-in of skies andthe washing of middle distances. Janie Henderson, who was naturallyartistic, and had been accustomed to try her 'prentice hand at home, found herself at a decided advantage, and won more credit in a singleweek than she had hitherto gained in a whole year at Chessington. 

"You've scored tremendously, Janie, " said Honor, who revelled in herfriend's brief hour of triumph. "Vivian Holmes was most impressed byyour sketch of the cliffs. I heard her telling one of the Aldwythitesabout it. She said you were quite an artist. There, don't blush! I'mparticularly rejoiced, because Vivian is so superior, and always doeseverything so much better than everybody else, and yet her picturewasn't half as good as yours, and she knew it. "

"Vivian paints rather well, though. "

"Oh, yes, tolerably! But she hasn't your touch. She muddles her greens, and her trees get so treacly! She's not really clever, as you are. "

Honor had not brought a paint-box to school, but Janie lent her a brushand a tube of sepia and a china palette that she had to spare, so thatshe was able to attempt studies in monochrome, if she could not trycolour. 

"They're horrid daubs, " she declared. "I don't pretend to have theleast atom of talent; I only drew these because Miss Cavendish said Imust. It's art under compulsion. "

"Like the man who painted the pictures for some Moorish sultan, " saidJanie. "I've forgotten the exact facts of the story, but I know he wastaken prisoner, and was marched with a long line of other wretchedcaptives to learn his fate. The sultan asked the first on the list:'Can you paint?' and when he answered 'No', ordered his head to bechopped off. Seven more were asked the same question, and given thesame doom. Then, when it came to an Englishman's turn, he said 'Yes', although he knew as much about drawing as the man in the moon. Thesultan spared his life, and ordered him to begin at once to decoratethe walls of the palace, so he was obliged to try. I believe thepictures are still there, and people go to look at them because they'reso extraordinary. I wish I could remember where the place is!"

"I should certainly like to see it, " said Honor. "My productions wouldhave been unique. I think I should have represented battle scenes, andput smoke to hide everything, and then have said it was impressionistic!The sultan was as bad as the Queen in _Alice in Wonderland_, who cried, 'Off with her head!'"

"They're absolute autocrats, " said Janie. "I read a story of anotherwho had a pet donkey, and sent for a philosopher and commanded him toteach it to talk. The poor old sage expected his last hour had come, but luckily an idea occurred to him. He said he would do so, but itwould take seven years. He thought that in the meantime either thesultan might die, or the donkey might die, or he himself might die. "

"And what happened?"

"Oh, I don't know! Like all good stories, it ends there. "

"How disappointing! I want to hear the sequel. I suppose thephilosopher might have poisoned the donkey. "

"Or, perhaps, somebody poisoned the sultan. It was an amiable littleway in those days of getting rid of an unpopular monarch. By the by, togo back to the subject of drawing, Miss Cavendish says there's to be anexhibition of all the sketches at the end of the term. They're to bepinned up round the gymnasium, and she'll ask an artist friend to comeand judge them, and mark them first, second, and third class. Perhapsshe may even set a special competition for a prize. "

"You'll win, then, if she does. I'm certain Marjorie Parkes's paintingis no better, though the St. Bride's girls have been crowingtremendously over her. "

"Don't pin your hopes to me! I'm a broken reed. If I want to do a thingparticularly nicely, I never can. All my most successful hits have beenmade when I wasn't trying. "

"Yes, that's often the way. I always say my highest scores at cricketare really flukes. Here's Lettice coming to criticize. Don't look at mysketch, Lettice, it's abominable! You may admire Janie's as much as youlike. "

"I think you've both been very quick, " said Lettice. "I've only drawnin about half of mine yet. But I can generally manage to make a littlework go a long way! I came to tell you that it's time to pack up. And Ihave a piece of good news as well; it has been so much cooler to-daythat Miss Cavendish says we may be more enterprising to-morrow. I don'tknow what's arranged for the other houses, but St. Chad's is down for abotany ramble. Isn't it jolly? I shall like it much better thansketching. Miss Maitland is to take us, and we're to walk along thehills towards Latchfield. There's to be an archery tournament as well, and we may go to that instead, if we like, only we must put our namesdown to-night. The lists for both will be hung up in the hall. I knowwhich I shall choose. "

"So do I, " said Janie. "I've never hit the target yet, so it's not muchuse my entering against Blanche Marsden and Trissie Turner and SophyWilliams. A ramble sounds lovely. Honor, do come! I'm sure you're notkeen on bows and arrows!"

"I haven't tried, so I can't tell. A tournament doesn't seem exactlythe place, though, to make one's first wild shots, and I've no timeeven for an hour's practice. If it's to be botany versus archery, Ithink I'll put my valuable autograph on the side of science. "

No one could be more capable of leading a botanical ramble than MissMaitland. She was a close student of nature, and not only loved plantsand flowers herself, but could make them interesting to other people. The beautiful collection of pressed specimens in the school museum wasmostly her work, and she was regarded as the best authority on thesubject in the College. 

"I'm often so glad we're at St. Chad's, " said Janie. "Miss Maitland isa thousand times nicer than any of the other house-mistresses. TheHilaryites are very proud of Miss Hulton because she writes for the_Scientific World_, the Aldwythites plume themselves on Miss Paterson'sdouble first, and the Bridites worship Miss Daubeny since she did thatsplendid climb in the Alps last summer; but Miss Maitland is so jollyall round, I like her by far the best. Of course, the School Housegirls say the very cream of Chessington is to be with Miss Cavendish, but I think a head mistress is pleasanter at a distance, one alwaysfeels so much in awe of her. "

"Yes; I'm afraid I should never feel quite at ease with MissCavendish, " avowed Honor. "At St. Chad's we seem almost like a bigfamily. "

The College stood in the midst of a pretty country, and there was nolack of walks in the neighbourhood. At exactly half-past four on thefollowing afternoon a party of sixteen Chaddites set off under the wingof Miss Maitland, and turned at once in the direction of the woods thatled to Latchfield, by a deliciously green and shady path. The warm sun, pouring between the thick leaves, made little radiant patches of goldenlight among the deep shadows under the trees; the whole air seemedalive with the hum of insects; and here and there rang out the sharptap of a woodpecker, or the melancholy "coo-coo-coo" of a wild pigeon. 

"The birds are generally very silent in such sultry weather, " said MissMaitland. "They sing at dawn and again at sunset, but you hear littleof them in the heat of the day. Those doves probably have a nest at thetop of that tall ash. I think I can see some sticks among the leaves onthat big bough. "

Some pieces of honeysuckle twined round the low undergrowth of bushes, and tall foxgloves reared their purple spikes in every small, openglade. The girls gathered these as their first specimens. 

"I wonder why they're called foxgloves?" said Lettice. "They've nothingto do with foxes. "

"It's simply a corruption of 'good folks' gloves', meaning 'fairies'gloves', " said Miss Maitland. "People gave the plants much moreromantic names in olden days than modern scientists do. I confess Ilike 'Queen of the Meadows' better than _Spiręa Ulmaria_, and I think'poor man's weather-glass' a far better description of the scarletpimpernel than _Anagallis arvensis_. We shan't find many flowershere, among the trees; but I'm hoping we may come across some orchidswhen we get on to the moors. "

They had been walking uphill all the time, and, as soon as they wereclear of the woods, found they had reached a high table-land, coveredwith pastures, through the midst of which flowed a stream, whose rushybanks were gay with purple loosestrife, Ragged Robin, and yellowspearwort. It was a famous place in which to botanize, and the girlswere allowed to disperse and hunt about for specimens, and came backevery now and then to show their finds to their teacher. 

"Adeline Vaughan is the only one who knows much about the naturalorders, or the proper scientific terms, " said Lettice. "It seems ratherfunny, because she's a Londoner, and doesn't belong to the country. "

"Country people aren't always the best authorities on the subject, "said Miss Maitland. "I know some who go through life with deaf ears andblind eyes, and never hear or see what is all around them. The mainthing is to have enthusiasm, and then, it doesn't matter where yourhome is, you'll manage to enjoy nature, even if it is only atsecond-hand, from books. "

"And there are always the holidays, " said Adeline. "We went toSwitzerland last August, and I found twenty-seven different specimensjust in one walk. "

"Before I came to St. Chad's, " confessed Lettice, "I used to thinkdaisies were the flowers of grass, and not separate plants--I didindeed!"

"You certainly know better now, " laughed Miss Maitland. "We can get somuch pleasure from things when we have learnt even a very little aboutthem. Every leaf or blade of grass becomes a marvel, if we begin toexamine its structure, and look at it through the microscope. There isnothing so wonderful as the book of nature, and it is always there, ready to entertain us when we wish to read it. "

It was much cooler and breezier up on the hills, though even there theair had a sultry feeling, and a dull, heavy haze was creeping up fromthe sea. 

"It looks like thunder, " said Miss Maitland. "I should not be surprisedif we were to have a storm to-night. We had better turn towards homenow; but we'll go back by the cliffs above Sandihove, instead ofthrough the woods. "

It was rather a difficult matter to get the girls along, so manyinteresting discoveries were made on the way--first a patch ofpink-fringed buck-bean, growing at the edge of the stream; then a clumpof butterfly orchis; and last, but not least, a quantity of thebeautiful "Grass of Parnassus", the delicate white blossoms of whichwere starring the boggy corner of a meadow. Miss Maitland was keptquite busy naming specimens, and everybody had a large bunch oftreasures to carry home. Janie Henderson and Adeline Vaughan, being thetwo chief enthusiasts of the party, walked on either side of theteacher, discussing matters botanical; and the others straggled inlittle groups behind. Honor found herself walking with Lettice Talbot, who was in a more than usually sprightly frame of mind, bantering andteasing, and turning everything into fun. 

"I've learnt the names of so many new flowers, " she declared, "that I'msure I shall get a bad mark for history to-morrow. My brain is small, and only capable of holding a certain amount. When fresh things are putin, out go the old ones, or else I mix them completely up. I shallprobably say that Oliver Cromwell was born at Marsh Cinquefoil, andthat Charles the First belonged to the family of Ranunculaceę. Paddy, you look rather glum! What's the matter? Don't you like botany? Or areyou longing for your native wilds in Kerry? Is that a surreptitioustear trickling down your cheek?"

"Surreptitious rubbish!" laughed Honor. "I wasn't thinking of anythingso romantic. I was looking at that little white village below us, andwondering if it can boast of possessing a shop. "

"Then I can satisfy you on that point. It does--a very small shop, where they sell tea, and red herrings, and tinned provisions. "

"Do they sell peppermint humbugs, or raspberry drops?"

"I dare say. I believe I remember some big bottles in the window. "

"Then let us go and buy some. I haven't had any sweets since I came toSt. Chad's. I'm simply yearning for butter-scotch or chocolates!"

"Don't talk of them! So am I! There's only one slight drawback, andthat is, that we're not allowed!"

"Why not?"

"How can I say why? It's one of the rules: 'No girl to enter any shop, or make purchases, without special permission from her house-mistress'. "

"Then run on and ask Miss Maitland if we may. She's in a particularlygood temper tonight, so she'll probably say 'yes'. I have some penniesin my pocket. "

"All right. One can but try!" replied Lettice, and hurrying after theteacher, who was a little distance in front, she made her request. 

She came back to Honor shaking her head gloomily. 

"As I thought!" she announced. "Miss Maitland says 'No'. We're not topass the shop at all; we're to keep to the upper road that skirts abovethe village. "

"How disgusting!" grumbled Honor. "It would only have taken a minutelonger. I'm sure there's no need to be in such a tremendous hurry. Lettice! Suppose we were to dash down this lane, we could go to thevillage and catch the others up at the crossroads. I can see the pathquite plainly from here. We couldn't possibly miss it, and we could runall the way. "

"Whew! But how about breaking rules?"

"Bother rules! Miss Maitland shouldn't make so many, and then they'd bebetter kept. It is ridiculous if girls of our age mayn't walk fiveyards by themselves. We're not infants in arms!"

Lettice hesitated, glanced to see if anyone in front was looking, orwhether anybody was close behind, then yielded to the voice of thetemptress. 

"It's horribly risky, but it would be a joke!" she said. 

Honor was in one of her self-willed moods that evening, ready to dareor do anything. In her heart of hearts she was offended because Janieshould have walked on with Adeline and Miss Maitland, and left herbehind. She was of a jealous temperament, and had enjoyed keeping herfriend as her own private and particular property. It seemed quite anew state of affairs for Janie to be conversing in so animated a mannerwith anybody but herself, and the change was the reverse of pleasant. 

"They're so interested in their talk, they've completely forgotten me!"she thought. "Very well; so much the better! They won't notice whatwe're doing. I'm not going to keep all these silly regulations. Onemight be in the nursery, to have to ask leave for such an absurd littlething as buying a pennyworth of sweets. "

The two girls ran as fast as they could along the lane, Honor lookingreckless and rather stubborn, and Lettice decidedly guilty. It wascertainly a most deliberate act of disobedience, and one that, if theywere caught, would involve them in very disagreeable consequences. Thediscipline at Chessington was so perfect that it was seldom any pupilever dreamt of even questioning a mistress's orders; and Lettice, inher two years at St. Chad's, had never done such a naughty thingbefore. She felt almost frightened at her own daring, but very excited, and ready to follow Honor to the end of the adventure. They hurriedinto the little shop and made their purchases as quickly as possible, though the old woman who served them did not understand the meaning ofthe word "haste", and weighed out butterdrops and caramels withexasperating deliberation. The pair stood by almost dancing withimpatience, and when the packets were at last ready, snatched them upand rushed off with all speed. 

"This way!" cried Honor, turning sharply to the left through an opengate. "I noticed the path particularly when we were on the hill above, and this is a short cut back to the road. "

"It looks as if we were going into an orchard, " objected Lettice. 

"No; I'm sure I'm right. We shall get out through those apple trees atthe top of the bank. "

The pathway, however, merely seemed to lead to a field, and ended at agate that was securely fastened by a piece of wire. 

"I believe there's a stile across there, " panted Honor, hot and out ofbreath with running. "Don't bother to undo that wire! We'll climb over. Here, take my hand!"

It was a vain hope. On closer examination the supposed stile proved tobe only part of a fence. The meadow was surrounded by a quickset hedge, so thick as to be an insuperable barrier. 

"I must have taken the wrong turning, after all, " said Honor blankly. "What a fearful nuisance! We shall have to go back. "

"It's all very well to say 'go back'!" exclaimed Lettice, turning andclutching at Honor's arm. "Look at what is in front of us!"

Honor stopped short as suddenly as her companion. Directly facing themwas a large bull: it had been feeding in the ditch when they enteredthe field, and thus they had not perceived its presence; but now it hadwalked across, and was standing exactly opposite the gate, completelycutting off their return to the footpath. 

"Perhaps it mayn't be really savage, " said Honor, with a slight quiverin her voice. "Shall we walk a little nearer, and see if it takes anynotice of us?"

"No! No! Don't!" implored Lettice. "I'm terrified even of cows, andthis is a monster. I'm sure it's dangerous--it has a ring in its nose!"

Honor looked round the pasture in dismay. She felt as if they werecaught in a trap. How were they to make their escape while that hugebeast stood between them and safety?

"We'd better go to the hedge again, " she said. "Perhaps there may besome little hole where we can scramble through into the next field. "

They beat a cautious retreat, not daring to run from fear that theymight attract the bull's attention. But the farmer had mended hisfences only too well; they did not find the smallest opening, search asthey would. 

"What are we to do?" demanded Lettice distractedly. "We can't stay allnight in the field, yet if we call for help that creature will comerushing at us. Oh, Honor, look! It's seen us now!"

The bull had certainly become aware of their proximity. It was gazingat them in an uneasy fashion, sniffing the air, and pawing the groundrestlessly. It gave a roar like the growling of thunder, and began towalk slowly in their direction. With white faces, the girls backednearer the fence. Perhaps the heat, or the flies, or the unusualappearance of two strangers in its meadow irritated the animal, foragain it gave a loud, rumbling bellow, and, lowering its horns, madestraight for the intruders. Shrieking with fright, Honor and Letticeplunged into the hedge, scrambling anyhow through quickset andbrambles, scratching their hands and faces and rending their dresses inthe struggle, their one object being to escape from the horror behindthem. With torn blouses and fingers full of thorns they issued from theopposite side, and rolled down a bank before they were able to stopthemselves. 

Honor sprang up promptly, and looked anxiously back. Fortunately, thebushes were far too thick and high for the bull to leap over. 

"We're quite safe now!" she exclaimed, with a gasp of intense relief. 

Lettice, sitting on the bank, indulged in a private little cry. She wasvery agitated and upset, and was trembling violently. 

"I thought we were going to be gored to death, " she quavered. "Oh! hasit gone away? It's dreadful to feel it's still so near us!"

"We'd better get on as fast as we can, and put another field between itand us, " said Honor, pulling her companion to her feet. "There are somehurdles over in that corner that we can climb, and then we shall beabsolutely out of danger. "

Honor's short cut proved a very long one before the two girls once morefound themselves on the high road. There was not a sign of the rest ofthe party to be seen, so they began to walk home as briskly as theirshaken nerves would allow. They had not gone far, however, before theymet Miss Maitland, who, with Janie Henderson and Maisie Talbot, hadcome back to look for them. 

"You naughty girls! Where have you been?" the house-mistress exclaimed, in righteous wrath, as the dilapidated pair made a conscience-strickenapproach. 

There was nothing for it but a full confession, and a very disagreeableten minutes followed for both. Miss Maitland knew how to maintaindiscipline, and would not overlook such a flagrant breach of orders. 

"I had distinctly forbidden you to go, " she said. "I am extremelydisappointed, for I thought I could have depended on your sense ofhonour to behave as well behind my back as if you had been walking infront. You may be most thankful to have escaped from a danger intowhich your own disobedience led you. I am sorry that our pleasantramble should have ended so unfortunately; it will be very difficultfor me to rely on either of you again. "

CHAPTER XII

St. Kolgan's Abbey

"After what happened on Latchfield Moors, " remarked Vivian Holmes, oneafternoon about a week later, "I think it is extremely good of MissMaitland to allow Honor Fitzgerald and Lettice Talbot to go to thepicnic to-morrow. I shouldn't have been in the least surprised if shehad left them both out, and I should certainly have said it served themright. "

Vivian was at an age when stern justice appears more attractive thanmercy. She kept rules rigidly herself, and had scant patience withthose who did not, serving out retribution in her capacity of monitresswith an unsparing hand. She was perhaps too hard on prodigals, but herinfluence and authority undoubtedly did much to maintain the highstandard of St. Chad's; and if she were not altogether popular, shewas, at any rate, greatly respected. 

Honor's last delinquency had placed her more than ever on Vivian's badlist. The monitress considered that it completely cancelled the bathingepisode, and regarded "that wild Irish girl" as the black sheep of thehouse, ready to lead astray such innocent lambs as Lettice Talbot whowere impressionable enough to be influenced by her example. MissMaitland, though grieved at such a relapse from the marked improvementthat Honor had shown, was fortunately a better judge of character. Sheknew that old habits are not overcome all at once, and that it takesmany stumblings and fallings and risings again before any human soulcan struggle uphill. She did not want Honor to be discouraged, andhoped that if the girl felt herself trusted she would make an effort tobe more worthy of confidence. 

"I put you on your parole, " she said to her. "It would be impossiblefor me to take you to Baldurstone if I imagined you were capable of arepetition of what occurred last week. I think, however, that I needfeel no anxiety on that score. "

"I promise faithfully, " said Honor, and she meant it. 

Vivian's opinions largely led popular feeling, and as Honor did nothold a high place in her estimation, the other Chaddites also, inconsequence of the affair on the moors, slightly ostracized "Paddy", letting her understand that they did not altogether approve of her. Lettice Talbot suffered a severe snubbing from her elder sister, inaddition to Miss Maitland's censure. 

"It was such shockingly bad form!" declared Maisie. "Why, you mighthave been two little Sunday-school children, running away from yourteacher to buy common sweets at a small village shop! I'm utterlyashamed of you. We don't do such things at Chessington. No wonder MissMaitland was amazed and disgusted. Yes, I know Honor Fitzgerald islistening; I'm very glad, because she'll hear what I think of your fineadventure. "

Honor undoubtedly felt much crestfallen to find that what she hadregarded as spirited independence was labelled "bad form" at theCollege. On reflection it struck her that, apart from all rules, it hadperhaps been scarcely polite to rush away, in direct opposition to theexpressed wishes of one who had been taking so much trouble to maketheir walk interesting. In common with all the Chaddites, she keenlyappreciated both Miss Maitland's personality and her knowledge ofnature lore, and had enjoyed the expedition on the hills immensely. 

To be left out of the picnic would have been a bitter disappointment. It was the great event of the summer term. Each house took itsexcursion on a separate day, as Miss Cavendish considered that thewhole school made too formidable an invasion for any place. St. Hilary's and St. Aldwyth's had already respectively visited WeylandCastle and Eccleston Woods, and it was now the turn of St. Chad's tochoose a destination. Miss Maitland had made a list of severalinteresting spots, which were well worth seeing, and had put the matterto a general ballot, with the result that by a majority of eight thevotes fell in favour of St. Kolgan's Abbey at Baldurstone. 

"It's the nicest of all, and Miss Maitland's favourite, " announcedLettice. 

"I chose it for three reasons, " said Honor: "first, because it's thefarthest off, and I like to have a long journey; secondly, becausewe're to go most of the way by steamer, and I love being on the sea;and thirdly, because Flossie Taylor wanted Haselmere Hall. "

"What a very intelligent and desirable motive!" sneered Vivian Holmes, who happened to overhear. "You evidently go on the principle of pigphilosophy. As a matter of fact, Miss Maitland said she had nopreference. "

"I was speaking to Lettice, " retorted Honor. "I suppose my motives aremy own business?"

"Oh, certainly! They're not of the slightest interest to me. "

"Vivian's rather snappy this evening, " whispered Lettice, as themonitress stalked away. "I believe she voted for Haselmere herself. "

"Then I'm doubly glad it's to be Baldurstone. Even if people aremonitresses, they've no need to think it's their mission to squasheverybody else perpetually. I can hardly make the least remark withoutVivian sitting upon me. "

"You always answer her back, you see, and she thinks that's cheek in anew girl. "

"I'm not new now. "

"Yes, you are--you're not through your first term yet. Vivian says ittakes a whole year to become a full-blown Chaddite, and until you'vethoroughly assimilated Chessington ideas you oughtn't to presume to airoutside opinions. "

"What bosh!"

"No, it's not bosh. You see, we all think that Chessington is the onlygirls' school in England, and that St. Chad's is the one house atChessington. One must keep up the traditions of the place, and itwouldn't do to let every fresh comer take the lead. You'll have toknuckle under, Paddy, and eat humble pie. Vivian has been here for fiveyears--she's simply a 'Chaddite of the Chaddites'. That's why she waschosen monitress. You'll have your chance when you get to the SixthForm. "

"Shall I ever climb so high up in the school? If I were head of thehouse, though, I'd be rather less hard on new arrivals. "

"Oh, no, you wouldn't! By the time you've gone through the millyourself you'll want to grind everybody else. There's an attractionabout the St. Chad's code; you'll like it better when you're more usedto it, and when you've forgotten any pettifogging notions you may havebrought from anywhere else. "

"You're outspoken, at any rate!"

"Certainly! I believe in plain, unvarnished truths. "

Honor had already discovered that fact, and also the further one thatwhatever a girl's position might be at home, it made no difference toher standing at the College, where each was judged solely and entirelyon her own merits. She had once unfortunately alluded with a touch ofpride to her family pedigree, but she rued her mistake in a moment, forVivian, with uplifted eyebrows, had enquired in a tone of cuttingcontempt: "Who are the Fitzgeralds?"

A large public school is indeed a vast democracy, and members areestimated only by the value they prove themselves to be to thecommonweal: their private possessions and affairs matter little to thegeneral community, but their examination successes, cricket scores, ortennis championships are of vital importance. All, to use an oldphrase, must find their own level, and establish a record forthemselves apart from home belongings. Honor was beginning to realizethat among two hundred girls she was a mere unit, and that her opinionsand prejudices counted as nothing against the enormous weight ofuniversal custom. It was quite a new aspect of life, so new that shewas not sure whether she liked or disliked it; although, if she hadbeen given her choice of remaining at the College or returning to theold, slipshod, do-as-you-please régime of her schoolroom at Kilmore, she would have decided most emphatically, despite strict rules, scoldings, snubs, and unwelcome truths, in favour of Chessington. 

Nobody wished to lie in bed on the morning of the picnic; even Honor, to whom early rising was still one of the greatest banes of existence, actually woke up before the bell rang, and had the triumph of rousingher sleeping companion, a reversal of the customary order of thingsthat afforded her much satisfaction. 

"It's delightful to think that St. Chad's is going off for a jaunt, while all the other houses will have lessons just as usual, " sheremarked. "I'm sure I shall enjoy it twice as much when I think ofChristina Stanton and Mary Nicholls toiling through equations andphysics. "

"It will be their turn to chuckle next week, when St. Bride's has itsholiday, " said Janie. "You'll feel rather blue then. "

"No, I shan't--not if we've had our fun first. I shall turnphilosophical, and say: 'You can't eat your cake and have it', and'Every dog has his day', or any other little platitude I can think of. In the meantime, it's our day, and I'm glad to see it's a particularlyfine one. "

At precisely nine o'clock, just when the rest of the Chessingtonianswere filing into classes, the Chaddites were assembled in thequadrangle, and at a signal from Miss Maitland started off, two andtwo, to walk to Dunscar, where they were to catch the steamer toAvonmouth, the nearest point for Baldurstone. Everything seemeddelightful--the brisk march in the fresh morning air, the brightsunshine, the glinting, sparkling sea, the foam churned up by thesteamer's revolving screw, the cries of the seagulls, and the steadymotion of the vessel as she headed out of the bay. The breeze in theChannel was exhilarating, and so cool as to make the girls appreciateMiss Maitland's wisdom in having insisted upon all bringing wraps. 

"I thought it seemed as foolish as carrying one's winter fur and muffon a broiling day like this, " commented Lettice, "but I really think Ishould have been cold without my coat. It's marvellous what an enormousdifference there is when you get well away from land. "

Lunch was taken on the steamer, and they did not arrive at Avonmouthuntil half-past one. They were landed in small boats, for there was nopier, and vessels of any considerable size could not cross the harbourbar. Miss Maitland counted up her forty pupils as they stood on thejetty--a precaution that seemed more of a formality than a necessity, as everyone had taken good care not to be left behind. 

"We have exactly three and a half hours here, " she said. "The steamerwill be back at five o'clock. That gives us plenty of time to walk tothe Abbey, and enjoy the ruins. I have ordered tea to be ready for usas soon as we return on board. We shall be very hungry by then, I'mafraid, but there is nowhere to buy refreshments in this tiny place. "

Avonmouth was, indeed, only a little fishing village, composed of anirregular row of cottages, huddled together on the beach, and a small, not-too-clean inn, which looked as if it would be quite incapable ofproviding even seats for a party of forty-three, to say nothing of cupsand saucers. 

"We're such an army!" said Vivian. "If we were to have tea here weshould clear the whole place of provisions. I don't suppose there'd beenough milk and bread and butter to go round. "

"Couldn't they have been ordered beforehand?" asked Lettice, who had aleaning towards picnic meals. "We might have sat on the grass outsidethe inn. "

"Yes, no doubt. But suppose the day had been wet and we hadn't come, then all the things would have been wasted. A steamer is generallyprepared to cater for any number of people. "

St. Kolgan's Abbey stood about two miles from the village, on aheadland overlooking the sea. It was a steady toil uphill the wholeway, but the glorious view at the top was ample reward for the hotclimb between high walls. The beautiful old ruin faced the Channel, andcommanded a wide prospect of blue waves, flecked here and there withlittle, foamy crests. 

"I wonder if that's the coast of Ireland, on the other side?" remarkedHonor, shading her eyes with her hand to gaze over the dancing water. 

"I'm afraid the wish is father to the thought, " said Ruth Latimer. "Idon't honestly see anything that can possibly be construed into adistant coast line, and I've about as long sight as anybody in theschool. Don't you want to come and listen to Miss Maitland? She's goingto tell us a story about St. Kolgan, who founded this place. "

Honor followed to the corner of the fallen transept, where MissMaitland was installed on a fragment of broken column. The girls, invarious attitudes of comfort, had flung themselves on the grass withinearshot, prepared to listen lazily while revelling in the calm, tranquil beauty and the old-world atmosphere of the scene. It seemed sopeaceful, so far removed from the bustle and noise of our hurrying, pushing age, that they could almost throw their minds back through thecenturies, and imagine they heard the vesper bell tolling from thetower overhead, and the slow footfalls of the monks pacing round thecloister to those carved seats in the choir of which the very remainswere so exquisite. 

"Yes, Baldurstone is a wonderful spot, " began Miss Maitland. "I don'tbelieve any place in the neighbourhood has older traditions. St. Kolganwas a British saint, and his legend has come down to us from the veryearliest times. You know that there was a thriving and orthodox CelticChurch in Britain long before St. Augustine's 'introduction' ofChristianity--a Church that was so important and vigorous that itcontributed three bishops to the Council of Arles in A. D. 314, andseveral to the Council of Nicęa in 325, thus showing that it formeda part of united Christendom. It sent missionaries both to Ireland, where St. Patrick preached the Faith, and to Scotland, where St. Ninianspread Christian teaching in the north. Then came the invasion of theheathen Norsemen, the Angles, Saxons, and Jutes of history, who burntand plundered every sanctuary they could find, slaying the priests atthe altars, destroying both prelates and people, and forcing theBritons to take refuge in the woods and mountains. Though drivenwestward, the Celtic Church did not perish, and every now and then somedevoted monk would try to establish himself among the worshippers ofThor and Odin. Such a mission was extremely dangerous, for so intensewas the hatred of the pagan conquerors for the religion of the NewTestament that it was almost impossible for a Christian teacher to showhimself among them and live. 

"At about the beginning of the seventh century, when the Saxons hadspread so far westward as Dunscar and Avonmouth, and were practicallymasters of all the country round, a monk called Kolgan came over fromIreland with a little band of brethren, and prevailed upon Osric, thechief, or 'under king', of the district, to allow him to settle atBaldurstone. Those Celtic pioneers built a small monastery, and workedvery earnestly among the people, some of whom they persuaded to becomeadherents of the Cross. Osric, though a pagan himself, tolerated themfor the sake of his British wife, Toura, and for a while they wentunmolested. When Osric died, however, the chiefdom fell to Wulfbert, afierce warrior, who was determined to annihilate by fire and bloodshedany faith that had taken root among his subjects. In daily peril oftheir lives, Kolgan and his monks stayed on, knowing that if theydeserted their post the last light of Christianity in the districtwould flicker out. One day a cowherd, who had been cured of a dangerouswound at the little settlement, came running to warn the brethren thatWulfbert and a band of armed men were advancing against them; and hebesought them at once to flee into the woods. Kolgan marshalled histrembling companions, and, giving them the altar vessels to carry intoa place of safety, sent them straightway to seek refuge in the vastforest that stretched ever northward and westward beyond the dominionof the Saxons. 

"He himself was determined to remain. He knew that many of those whowere coming with Wulfbert had, in Osric's time, been converts, eitheropenly or secretly, of the Church; and he hoped, even at the eleventhhour, that he might recall their lost allegiance. Alone, with a crossuplifted in his hand, he stood at the door of the monastery to meet theNorsemen. The fierce band paused in amazement at the sight of histemerity; it was something those savage men had not known before. Theswift rush through the battlefield of the warrior who hoped byslaughter to gain Valhalla, they could understand; but this calmcourage in the face of death was beyond their experience. Kolgan seizedthe opportunity of the moment's respite to appeal to them in the nameof the Trinity, and thundered out a denunciation against those whoforsook the Faith. A few trembled, but Wulfbert, rallying his ranks, cried: 'Cowards! Are ye afraid of the empty words of an unarmedpriest?' and rushing forward, he struck the first blow with hisbattle-axe. 

"Kolgan fell where he stood, the little settlement was plundered andravaged, and for the time it seemed as though his work had been of noavail. But brighter days were in store for the Church; slowly andgradually Christianity had begun to spread, not only from Celtic, butfrom Saxon sources, and before many years were past Wulfbert himselfhad accepted baptism. The monastery was by his special desire rebuiltin honour of St. Kolgan, and became afterwards one of the greatestcentres of learning in the west country. For nine hundred years itflourished, till at last it was suppressed in the reign of Henry VIII, and the buildings, untended and neglected, fell into the state that wesee now. "

"And is this actually the place built by Wulfbert?" asked Ruth Latimer. 

"Oh, no! That must have been a very rude and primitive erection;probably it had wattled walls, and a thatched roof. The Abbey wasreconstructed more than once, and the present ruins are the remains offourteenth-century work. "

"What a shame that it should have been destroyed!" said DorothyArkwright. 

"Yes and no. One much regrets the ruin of so lovely a place, but themonks had grown idle and self-indulgent, and were as different from thefounders of their order as could well be imagined. The old, self-sacrificing spirit had passed away; and the days were gone, too, when the monastery had stood as the sole centre of light in a dark age, at once the substitute for school, college, hospital, and alms-house, as well as the home of painting, literature, music, and all the refinedarts. When any custom or institution, however beautiful, becomeseffete, the ruthless hand of progress sweeps it away, and supplants itwith something else, leaving us only ivy-covered ruins to show us whatour forefathers loved and valued. "

"How grand St. Kolgan was!" said Vivian. "I think it was simplysplendid the way he stood at the door and braved the Saxons!"

"Yes; but to me the truest part of his heroism was not his death, buthis life. It needed far greater self-denial and true courage to spendeach day in trying to teach a wild and hostile people, making long andfatiguing journeys, and suffering the loss of every joy that earthcould offer him, than it did to summon up the supreme spirit to meetmartyrdom. It is just the same in most of our lives, " continued MissMaitland, with a glance in Honor's direction; "it takes more real andstrenuous effort to do plain, ordinary things, obeying rules andkeeping our tempers, than one occasional very brave thing; and, thoughI would not for a moment depreciate the latter, I think that in theaggregate the others are of greater importance. Anybody, however, whocan do a courageous deed is capable of living up to it every day, andthus rising to a still higher level. We must consider ourselves asfailures unless we are trying to develop the very best that is in us. "

When Miss Maitland and the girls had dispersed to explore the ruinsmore thoroughly, Honor lay still on the grass, gazing hard at the wide, shining expanse of sea. Janie stayed too, and sat abstractedly pluckingdaisy-heads and pulling them to pieces, or crumbling little pieces ofmortar from the wall. For a long time neither spoke. 

"I believe Miss Maitland was having a shot at me, " said Honor at last;"only, I don't understand exactly what she meant. "

"I do, " returned Janie. "She thinks that you're capable of very muchmore than ordinary people. "

"I can't imagine why!"

"Because it's in you. You've brains, and pluck, and 'go', and all kindsof things that other folks haven't. You might do such a splendid amountin the world some day!"

"I, my dear girl!" cried Honor in amazement. "Why, I'm sure I'm not upto much!"

"You could be, if you tried. "

"There are some things that aren't possible, however hard one tries. Ican no more be really and truly good than you could win the Atalantarace at the sports!"

The colour flushed into Janie's thin cheeks. Her lack of physicalprowess was sometimes rather a sore subject to her. Though she did notenjoy games, she would, nevertheless, have dearly liked the credit ofexcelling in them. For a moment or two she did not reply. She wasconsidering hard, and making up her mind on a difficult point. When shespoke, it was with a touch of diffidence and hesitation in her voice. 

"Suppose I could win the 'Atalanta', would you think it possible to bewhat Miss Maitland wants you?"

"Indeed, I'd think anything possible!" replied Honor, with more truththan politeness. 

"Then shall we make it a bargain--if I win the race, you're going totry your very hardest?"

"Turn over a new leaf, in fact?"

"Yes. "

"All right; I've no objection. I should like to see you flying roundthe quad!"

"And I should like to see you doing other things! Will you promise, then?"

"On my honour, if you want. "

"Very well. Give me something as a pledge. "

"You can have this small compass, " said Honor, rummaging in her pocket. "It's rather a treasure. Brian brought it me from Switzerland, and it'smade of agate. "

"All the better, because you'll want to have it back. I'll give you mysilver fruit-knife, which I'm equally loath to part with. We must eachkeep each other's token until after the sports. "

"And then?"

"Ah! that remains to be seen, " said Janie, as she rose and strolledleisurely away. 

All the Chaddites agreed that the visit to Baldurstone was one of themost interesting excursions they had ever taken, and that the ruinswere the most picturesque in the neighbourhood, far exceeding WeylandCastle, favoured by the Hilaryites; and Clayton House, the destinationof St. Bride's. The memory of their delightful day was sufficient tocarry them through the ordeal of recapitulation that always precededthe examinations, necessitating an extra half-hour of preparation inthe evenings, and, as Lettice described it, "concentrating one'sunfortunate brains to absolute splitting point". 

Whether Lettice's mental exertions were sufficient to bring her to suchan unhappy crisis was a question on which her class mistress might haveexpressed some doubt, though she herself thought she had proofconclusive one afternoon during the week following the picnic. She ranin from the grounds in quite a state of excitement, and hailed a groupof friends assembled in the recreation room. 

"Girls!" she exclaimed, "I've seen a vision, a most extraordinary andpeculiar sight! You wouldn't believe what it was! I happened to be atthe bottom of the garden, and in that quiet path behind the laundry Iactually saw Janie Henderson tearing up and down, as if she were doingthe last spurt of a Marathon. "

"Janie Henderson! Impossible!" cried everybody. 

"Just what I said. I rubbed my eyes, and came to the conclusion thatI'd been overstudying, and must be suffering from a delusion. Do I lookqueer?"

"Not in the least; your cheeks are as red as peonies. "

"Well, my eyesight must be defective, then, for I certainly thought Isaw her. "

"You've been dreaming!"

"It's about as likely as seeing Miss Cavendish performing with askipping rope. "

"Yes, it's absurd on the face of it. It must have been somebody else. "

"A case of mistaken identity. "

"There are heaps of girls the same height, and with long, light hair. "

"No doubt. I was a fairly good distance off too. And yet, " addedLettice to herself, as she went to change her cricket shoes, "I verilybelieve it was Janie Henderson, after all!"

CHAPTER XIII

Miss Maitland's Window

While the weather continued to be so hot and close, Miss Maitlandallowed the girls to spend their evening recreation in the garden, sothat they might have a blow of fresh, cool air before they went to bed. They enjoyed sitting under the trees with books or fancy work, thoughas a rule their tongues wagged so fast that there was little display ofindustry with their needles. 

"I hate sewing, " confessed Honor, "and it's no use pretending I likeit. "

"This piece of embroidery has lasted me three terms, and it isn'tfinished yet, " said Maisie Talbot, leisurely snipping off a thread, andpausing before she chose another piece of silk. 

"I don't have to look at my knitting, " said Chatty Burns; "but then, I'm Scotch, and every Scotchwoman knits. "

"You're getting on so fast, it will do for me as well, " said Honor, lying comfortably on the grass with her hands clasped under her head, and watching Chatty's rapidly growing stocking. "It's a 'work ofsupererogation', and that always leaves a little virtue over, to countfor somebody else. "

"I didn't say I'd hand the extra merit on to you, " retorted Chatty. 

"You can't help it. If there's so much to spare it must go somewhere, and I'm the idlest person; it will naturally fly to make up mydeficiencies. "

"What a fallacious argument!" declared Maisie. 

"Do you know, " interrupted Ruth Latimer, "that it's exactly a fortnighton Friday to the end of the term?"

"Know! I should think we do know!" replied Lettice. "I expect each oneof us is counting the days, and longing for the time to come, if I'many sample of the rest of the school. I say, 'One more day gone', everynight when I get into bed. "

"It's glorious to think the breaking-up is so near, " said PaulineReynolds. "What are you all going to do in the holidays?"

"We're starting for the Tyrol at the beginning of August, " said Ruth. "We want to have a walking tour. We shall leave our heavy luggage atBotzen, and then tramp off up the mountains with just a few things inknapsacks on our backs, and stop at chalets and little inns('guest-houses', as they are called there) on the way. We shall feelmost delightfully free, because we can go any distance we like, andshall not be bound to arrive at any special place by any special time. That's the beauty of a walking tour. "

"How far can you go in a day?" asked Honor. 

"It just depends. If one is in the hot valleys, quite a short distanceknocks one up; but when one gets the real mountain air, one can marchalong without feeling the least scrap tired. I once did twenty miles inSwitzerland, but that's my record. "

"And a pretty good one, " said Pauline, "particularly as one oughtn't toreckon miles in Switzerland; one counts mountain climbing in hours. "

"Yes, I've sometimes been deer-stalking at home, " said Chatty, "andit's a very different affair toiling uphill over the heather fromwalking on a flat road. We're not going away this summer. Father hastaken some extra shooting, and we're to have a big house-party instead. It's great fun! I like helping to carry the lunch in the little ponytrap on to the moors; and we have jolly times in the evening--games, and music, and dancing. Have your people settled any plans yet, Pauline?"

"They talk of Norway. It would be glorious to see the midnight sun, andthe lovely pine forests. I've wanted to go ever since I read _Featson the Fiord_. "

"You won't find it so romantic as that, " laughed Ruth Latimer. "Thingshave changed since the time Harriet Martineau wrote about it. There areno pirates nowadays, to try to kidnap bishops and burn farms. Youmight, perhaps, find Rolf's wonderful cave, but I'm sure there isn't apeasant left who believes in the water sprite, and the Mountain Demon, and Nipen, and all the rest of the spirits of which Erica was soafraid. "

"Perhaps not; but the country's just as beautiful, and I shall see thefiords, if I haven't any adventures there. I didn't say I wanted tomeet pirates among the islands; on the whole, I should prefer theirroom to their company. "

"Well, I wish you just one adventure, to keep up the element ofromance. Perhaps your boatman will row you into the middle of thefiord, and demand your purse before he consents to take you back to thevessel; or you may be shipwrecked on a sunken rock, and left strandedin the Arctic Circle, dependent on the hospitality of the Laplanders!"

"No, thanks! I believe their tents are disgustingly dirty. I hope I maysee a Lapp settlement, all the same, and also a few seals. I'm afraid awhale, or an iceberg, is too much to expect. "

"Where are you going, Lettice?" enquired Chatty. 

"Nowhere in particular, unless Maisie and I are asked to our aunt's. But we shall have jolly fun at golf and tennis. When one has been atschool the whole term, one likes to be at one's own home, and to meetall one's friends again. It feels such ages since one saw them. "

"Yes; the middle part of the term always seems to drag dreadfully, andthen the last comes with a rush, and the exams. Are on before one knowswhat one is doing. "

"Don't talk of exams!" cried Pauline. "I expect I shall fail in everysingle one. I'm completely mixed up in chemistry, and I never canremember dates and names properly. My history paper will be a series ofdashes: 'War with France was renewed in ----, when the English gainedthe decisive battle of ----, in which the Prince ---- was slain and theDuke of ---- taken prisoner. By the Treaty of ---- a truce wasconcluded', &c. "

"Perhaps Miss Farrar will think it's a guessing competition, " remarkedHonor. 

"I dare say she will. I wish we needn't have exams. , or marks, or anyhorrid things, to show whether we've done well or badly. "

"I can get on tolerably with facts, " said Lettice, "but I'm alwaysmarked 'weak' for composition. Miss Farrar says I use tautology andrepeat myself, and that my grammar is shaky and my general style poor. She told me to take Macaulay as a model, but I can no more copy otherpeople's ways of writing than I could improve my features by staring atthe Venus de Medici. "

"Poor old Salad! You're not cut out for an authoress. "

"I'm certainly not; I'd rather be a charwoman! I don't aspire to beeditress of the school magazine, I assure you, nor even a contributor. By the way, Honor, why don't you send something? I'm sure you could. "

"I did think of it, " replied Honor. "I was going to make a nice littleseries of acrostics on all of your names. I did one about Chatty, andshowed it to Janie; but she said that it was far too slangy, and Vivianwould never pass it, so I tore it up, and felt too squashed to go on. "

"Oh! what was it?" exclaimed the girls. "Can't you remember it?"

"I'll try. I believe it went this way:

 "C hatty Burns is just a ripper! H air's the colour of a kipper; A nd her face so round and red is T hat you'd think her cheeks were cherries. T hough we often call her 'Fatty', Y ou depend we're nuts on Chatty. "

"What a shame!" cried the indignant original of the acrostic. "Myhair's auburn, it's not the colour of a kipper!"

"We certainly call you 'Fatty', though, " laughed Lettice. "I think thepoem is lovely!"

"It's a good thing you tore it up, all the same, " said Ruth. "Vivianwould have been simply horrified. We have a crusade against slang atChessington, and 'ripper' is one of the words absolutely vetoed. Weonly say 'jolly' by stealth. "

"I'm sure 'jolly' ought to be allowable. I saw it in a book in thelibrary: 'as jolly as a sandboy', was the expression. "

"What is a sandboy?" asked Lettice. "The phrase is always quoted as thehigh-water mark of bliss. "

"I've never been able to find out, " said Ruth. "I suppose it's eitherone of those wretched little urchins who dive for pennies, or anordinary donkey boy. But this is what Miss Farrar calls 'a digressionfrom the subject'. I want to hear if Honor has written any moreacrostics. "

"I made one on Lillie Harper, " replied Honor. "It had an illustration, too, done very badly, in just a few crooked strokes, like littlechildren draw:

 "L illie is a dab at cricket; I depict her at the wicket. L ook how tight her bat she's grasping, L eaving all the fielders gasping! I have done this sketch in woggles, E specially to show her goggles. 

"It ought to have the picture to really explain it, " said Honorregretfully; "I'm sorry now that I tore it up. I began a piece on theexams. Too; it was a parody of 'The boy stood on the burning deck', butI can't get beyond the first verse:

 "The girl sat at the hard, bare desk, Whence all but she had fled; Her fingers they were stained with ink, And aching was her head. "

"Oh, go on! It would be so nice!"

"It's impossible to think of any more. "

 "The time rolled on, she could not go Without her teacher's word, "

improvised Ruth. 

 "That teacher, taking tea below, Her sighs no longer heard, "

finished Honor. "Only, Miss Farrar wouldn't be taking tea in the middleof an exam. No, it can't be done!"

"Then we must put 'To be continued', " said Ruth. 

"Make another acrostic, Paddy!" urged Lettice. 

"Acrostics are too hard, because one is hampered by keeping to theletters of the girls' names, " objected Honor. "Limericks are mucheasier. How would this do for Vivian Holmes?--

 "There was a head girl of St. Chad's, Who was subject to fancies and fads; When we tried to talk slang, She declared it was wrong, And said she considered us cads. "

"Good!" laughed Ruth. "Only, of course, Vivian wouldn't dream of usingsuch a word as 'cad'. Now, I've got one about you:

 "There's a girl at our house we call 'Paddy': She's not 'goody-goody', but 'baddy'; She loves practical jokes, Or to play us a hoax, Though we tell her such tricks are not 'Chaddy'. "

"Very well, Miss Ruth Latimer! I'll return the compliment, " said Honor. "How do you like this?--

 "There's a girl at our house who's called Ruth: She is fond of an unpleasant truth; She says she is seeking To practise plain speaking, But we think she is merely uncouth. "

"I don't mind in the least, " declared Ruth; "in fact, I'm ratherflattered than otherwise. "

"Make one about Maisie or me, " implored Lettice. "You can say as nastythings as you want. "

"Nothing could possibly rhyme with Lettice, " announced Honor after amoment's cogitation, "or with Salad either. I might do better withMaisie. Let me see--crazy, hazy, daisy, lazy--I think those are all. Will this suit you?--

 "There's a girl in this garden called Maisie; At lessons she's horribly lazy, But she's splendid at sports, And at games of all sorts, While o'er cricket she waxes quite crazy. "

"What are you all laughing at?" enquired Flossie Taylor, sauntering upto join the group, and taking a seat on the grass. 

"Limericks. Honor is winding them off by the yard. Now, Paddy, let ushave one about Flossie! Quick, while your genius is burning!"

"It's only flickering, " laughed Honor, "but I'll try:

 "There's a girl at St. Chad's who's named Flossie; She tries to be terribly 'bossy', She sets us all straight (Which is just what we hate), And makes us exceedingly cross(y). "

"Oh, what a fearfully lame rhyme!" said Lettice. 

"I know it is, but I couldn't think of any other word. If you'reoffended, Flossie, you can go away. "

"I'm not silly enough to care about such trifles, " replied Flossieloftily. 

"You've quite left out Janie, " said Lettice, "and there she is sewingall the time, and as usual never offering a single remark. JanieHenderson, why don't you talk?"

"You don't give me a chance to put in a word, " protested Janie. "Perhaps I'm like the proverbial parrot, which couldn't talk, butthought all the more. "

"You mean that I do the talking, and not the thinking?"

"I didn't say so. "

"But you implied it. You deserve a horrid Limerick, and I shall makeone myself. Wait a moment, while I rack my brains. Oh, now I've gotit!--

 "Miss Henderson, otherwise Jane, May think very hard with her brain, But it never comes out, So she leaves us in doubt If there are any thoughts to explain. 

"There! You can't retaliate, because, as Honor says, there isn't a rhymefor Lettice. "

"It's a good thing, for we might get too personal, " interposed Chatty. "I think we've been over the margin of politeness as it is. Suppose wechange the subject. Do you know, the honey dew is dropping from thislime tree overhead and making my knitting needles quite sticky!"

"It would be a lovely tree to climb, the boughs are so regular, " saidHonor, gazing into the green heights above. 

"I don't believe I could go up a tree if a mad bull were after me, "asserted Pauline. "I should just collapse at the bottom, and be goredto death, I know I should!"

"It isn't difficult, " declared Honor. "You've only to catch hold of thebranches, and keep swinging yourself a little higher. I've climbed everso many trees in our garden at home. "

"I should like to see you do it here, then. "

"Very well! I'll show you, if you don't believe me. "

The lime tree in question stood close to the house--so near, in fact, that some of its boughs brushed the windows. Miss Cavendish had severaltimes decided to have it cut down, thinking it interfered with thelight; but Miss Maitland had always begged that it might be spared alittle longer, saying she loved its cool shade. 

Honor swung herself quite easily from branch to branch, while the groupof girls below watched her with admiration. 

"You look like a middy going up the main-mast, " said Ruth. 

"Or a monkey at the Zoo, " added Lettice. 

"That's the voice of jealousy, " remarked Chatty. "Lettice is green withenvy because she can't do it herself. "

"A squirrel would be a happier simile, " suggested Ruth. 

[Illustration: AN UNLUCKY ESCAPADE]

"She's getting along very quickly, " said Pauline. 

Half-way up the tree Honor paused and looked down. 

"Hallo!" she cried, "I'm just by Miss Maitland's study. I shall go in, and pay her a call. Ta-ta!" and she disappeared suddenly through theopen window. 

"What will Miss Maitland say if she's there?" exclaimed Lettice. 

"I don't believe she'd be cross, " said Maisie. "She'd be amused to seeanybody come in so funnily. "

Honor was absent only about a minute, then her beaming face peeped fromthe window once more. 

"Miss Maitland's not at home, " she announced. "I've left my card withthe footman, and said I'd call again another day, in my aeroplane. Keepout of the way down there--I'm coming!" and down she came, with a rushand a scramble, arriving quite safely, however, with only her hairribbon untied and her hands a little grazed. 

"You see, it's really a very easy matter, " she explained; "we do farharder things in the gym. "

"Can you find a good foothold?" asked Flossie. 

"Oh, yes! There are heaps of places that seem made on purpose to putyour toe in. It's almost like a ladder. "

"Here's Vivian!" said Chatty. "I'm afraid she's come to call us in. "

"What a nuisance! I don't want to go to bed. "

Chatty had accurately guessed the monitress's errand. 

"It's nearly nine o'clock, " proclaimed Vivian. "Didn't you hear thebell? I rang it at the side door. "

"We didn't hear a sound, " replied Lettice. "But then, we were alllaughing so much. Honor Fitzgerald has just been climbing the limetree, and she went right through the window into the study. "

"Honor Fitzgerald is a hoyden, then, " said Vivian. "And what businesshad she to go inside Miss Maitland's room? It was a piece of greatimpertinence. "

"I'm sorry I told you, " said Lettice ruefully. 

"I wish Vivian could have heard the verse you made about her!"whispered Pauline to Honor. "Is hoyden a dictionary word, or not? I'mafraid I should have said 'cheek' instead of impertinence, but I'm nota monitress. "

The girls had entered the dressing-room, and were putting away booksand sewing materials in their lockers, when Maisie exclaimed:

"Oh, what a bother! I've left my work-basket on the grass. It was open, too, and if there's a heavy dew my scissors and crewel needles will becovered with rust. Lettice, do go and fetch it for me!--there's justtime. "

Lettice was so accustomed to wait upon her elder sister that she didnot even remonstrate, but turned straightway and ran into the garden tofetch the lost property. It had grown suddenly very dusk, almost dark. The lime tree stood out tall and black by the side of the house, andthe bushes were dense masses of shadow. Lettice had to grope for thebasket, but found it at last, and began to retrace her steps along thehardly-discernible path. She was about twenty yards away from the limetree when a slight noise made her look back, and she noticed the figureof a girl swinging herself down by the branches in the same way asHonor had done. Whoever it was alighted on the ground gently, andrushed off into the bushes before Lettice could see her face, though itwould have been too dark, in any case, to distinguish her features. Itwas all done very quickly, and so silently that, except for the firstsound, there was scarcely a rustle. 

Lettice was in a great hurry, and did not stop to make anyinvestigation; indeed, she did not trouble to give the matter athought. It seemed a trifling little incident, not even worthmentioning to the others; yet it was one that she was to rememberafterwards, in view of certain events that followed, for it wasdestined to make a link in the strangest chain of circumstances thatever occurred at St. Chad's. 

CHAPTER XIV

A Stolen Meeting

Honor had hurried with the other girls from the garden, laughing andjoking as she went, and was almost in the act of running into the housewhen quite unexpectedly something happened, something utterly amazingand out of the common, and which was to be fraught with entirelyunlooked-for consequences. As she put her foot on the first of thesteps that led to the side door a figure moved silently from under theshade of a lilac bush close by, and, tapping her upon the arm, drew heraside with a whispered "Sh-sh!"

Honor suppressed an exclamation of astonishment, and, peering throughthe dusk to see who thus accosted her, recognized Annie, anunder-housemaid who had only lately come to St. Chad's. 

"I've been waiting to catch you alone, miss, " whispered the girl, "anda difficult matter it's been too. I didn't dare speak to you before theother young ladies. I'm to give you this letter, safe into your ownhand. I'd never have done it if I hadn't promised so faithful--it'salmost as much as my place is worth!"

"What is it? Who sent it?" asked Honor, taking the note. 

"It's from one of the young gentlemen at Orley Grange, and I was to besure you got it secretly. Put it in your pocket, miss, and run indoors!I must be off to the kitchen, " and without another word Annie turnedand fled, as if relieved to have accomplished her errand. Full ofcuriosity, Honor entered the house. The clock had not yet struck nine, so, seeing that the light was on in the dressing-room, she peepedinside. Fortunately, nobody was there, and she was able to go in andread her letter free from all observation. Its contents appeared tooccasion her no little perplexity and dismay, for she knitted her browsand shook her head as she replaced the envelope in her pocket. Shewent, however, to the recreation room, where the rest of the girls wereassembled waiting for the bell that always rang to proclaim bedtime;but she was in such an absent and abstracted frame of mind that severalof her friends noticed and remarked upon it. 

"What's wrong with Paddy?" asked Lettice. "She's shut up suddenly, likean oyster. I can't get a word out of her. "

"I can't imagine, " said Pauline. "I spoke to her just now, and shedidn't seem to hear me. "

"It's most unlike her, " commented Ruth. "She generally goes to bed withso many jokes and parting shots. "

To-night Honor walked upstairs with unwonted staidness and gravity. Shewent quietly into her cubicle and drew the curtain, and answered sobriefly when her room-mate spoke to her that the latter was almostoffended. 

"Perhaps she's only tired though, " thought Janie charitably. "This hotweather is enough to wear anybody out. I don't always care to talkmyself. "

Janie was certainly not a girl to push conversation where it wasevidently not wanted, so the pair undressed in absolute silence. FromHonor's cubicle came sounds that suggested that its occupant wasfumbling with a key and unlocking a box, but as she did not volunteerany explanation, her room-mate made no comments. When Vivian arrived athalf-past nine to switch out the light, both girls were in bed. 

Next morning Janie woke suddenly just as the grey dawn was growingstrong enough to show faintly the various objects that were in theroom. Some unusual noise had disturbed her, and she lay listeningintently. She could hear stealthy movements in the next cubicle, andwondering what her friend was doing, she popped out of bed and peepedround the curtain. There was Honor, fully dressed, and in the act ofputting on her hat. 

"What's the matter?" asked Janie anxiously. "Honor! where are yougoing?"

"I hoped I shouldn't waken you, " replied Honor in a whisper. "Hush!Don't talk loud, because with all the windows so wide open the girls inNo. 6 can hear quite plainly when we speak in this room. "

"All right. But do tell me why you're getting up at this extraordinaryhour?" said Janie, in a subdued tone. 

"I'm in a dreadful fix! I must meet Dermot down on the beach soon afterfive o'clock. "

"Meet Dermot! Your brother? But why?"

"He's in such a scrape, and I have to get him out of it. "

"How do you know?"

"One of the servants slipped this note into my hand last night, as wecame in from the garden. You can read it if you like. "

Janie took the letter, which was written in a scrawling, boyish hand ona piece of paper apparently torn out of an exercise-book. It ran thus:--

 "ORLEY GRANGE, "_Tuesday_. 

 "DEAR HONOR, "I am in the most awful row, and if I can't get a sovereign by to-morrow morning I shall be done for. I owe it to Blake. I haven't time to tell you the whole affair, but I have been an absolute idiot. Blake wants the money, and he's a mean sneak. He says if I don't pay up he'll let on about something that I'm trying to keep dark. He really means it, too, and if it gets to the Head's ears I shall be expelled. Can you possibly lend me anything? I'd have written to the Mater, but I hear she has one of her bad attacks, so it wouldn't do to upset her. As for the governor, he'd be furious if he knew. He told me last term that if I ran into debt I needn't trust to him to get me out of it, for he wouldn't stir a finger to help me, and would give me a thrashing for my pains. He must not know on any account. It is of no use writing to Brian or the others, because it is so near the end of the term they're sure to have no money left. Have you spent all yours? I am going to get up before five o'clock to-morrow and climb out through the dormitory window, and go along the shore to the beach below Chessington, just by your bathing-place. Can you manage to do the same, and bring me any cash you can gather? Perhaps Blake might take something on account, if you haven't the whole. The janitor has promised to go with this letter to St. Chad's; he says he thinks he can get it smuggled in through his niece, who is a servant there. But he won't have time to wait for an answer, so the only way to give me the money is to meet me on the shore. I am awfully sorry to have to ask you to do this, but it is the one chance I have left, and if you knew what a hole I am in I think you would be sorry for me. I must stop now. The bell is ringing. 

 "Your loving brother, "DERMOT. "

"Oh, Honor! Are you going?"

"Of course I am. I wouldn't fail Dermot at such a pinch. Luckily I havethe money too. I shall let myself out by the dressing-room window, andclimb over the fence at the end of the cricket field. It won't takevery long. I shall be back before any of the servants are stirring. "

"But it's such a frightfully risky thing! Suppose you were caught, you'd certainly get into a scrape. "

"I shall have to take the risk. Dermot will get into a far worse scrapeif I don't go. I couldn't bear to think of him waiting for me on theshore, and finding I never came. Hush, Janie! Please don't ask me anymore. I've made up my mind. "

Honor had put on her tennis shoes, and now stole very softly out of theroom and down the passage. Janie went to bed again, though certainlynot to sleep. She heard the stairs creak, and wondered if anyone elsewere awake in the house, and would notice the compromising sound. 

"Oh, dear! What is to be done?" she thought anxiously. "It's fearfullynaughty of Honor, yet I sympathize with her wanting to help Dermot. Ibelieve I should have gone myself, if I'd had a brother of my own introuble. Major Fitzgerald must be a very stern man; they both seem toofrightened of him to tell anything, and their poor mother is so ill shemustn't be disturbed. I'm sorry for Honor. I hope she won't be longaway; I shall be wretched till she comes back. Somebody might see herfrom a window, even if no one hears her in the passage, and then--Idon't like to think of the consequences!"

Honor was indeed determined to do her utmost for Dermot. Of all herfive brothers, he was the dearest. Rather younger than herself, he hadbeen her inseparable companion in nursery days, when the pair hadshared everything, from sweets to scoldings, with strictestimpartiality. Honor had never forgotten the terrible parting when herfather had decreed that Dermot was old enough to go to school--how shehad cried herself sick, and how absolutely lonely and deserted theCastle had seemed when she was obliged to wander about and amuseherself alone. She had grown accustomed in time to solitary rambles, but she had always looked forward to her brother's return with keenestanticipation, and regretted bitterly that holidays were so short. 

That Dermot was in trouble and wanted her was now the one thoughtuppermost in her mind, and rules were entirely ignored in her desire tosee him and speak with him. Though she was determined to carry out herproject she knew, however, that it was a most unorthodox andunwarrantable proceeding to leave St. Chad's at such an hour, and onsuch an errand, and she had no desire to be caught and prevented fromgoing. 

She stole along the landing, therefore, as softly as possible, pausingevery now and then to listen if all were quiet. The whole house seemedto be sound asleep, and not a door opened as she passed. Once down thestairs and in the hall she felt safer, and hurrying quickly into thedressing-room, she easily unbolted a French window that led into thegarden. 

Was that a step on the stairs? Honor was not sure. She dared not goback to ascertain, but, rushing outside, fled as fast as she couldround the corner in the direction of the cricket pitch. 

"Whoever it was will find the bird flown, " she said to herself. "Perhaps I was mistaken, though, and only imagined I heard somebody. "

A glance at the little watch pinned to her blouse told her that she hadnot much time to lose. She did not wish to keep Dermot waiting, for sheknew he would be in a fever of anxiety until she made her appearance. 

"I hope he has managed to get off safely, " she thought. "It must bemore difficult to leave a large dormitory than a small bedroom; still, I don't suppose any of the other boys would try to stop him, or wouldtell afterwards. "

She had now reached the playing-fields, and she climbed over the fencethat separated them from a neighbouring pasture. A few hundred yards, and a stile brought her to a path along the cliffs that led to thebathing-place. 

Dermot was first at the tryst. Even before Honor began to descend theflight of steps she caught sight of his familiar figure on the beachbelow. He was pacing impatiently up and down, glancing first one wayand then another, until at length he happened to look upwards in theright direction, and saw her. He waved his hat, and came eagerly alongthe shingle to meet her. 

"All right, Dermot! I've brought you the sovereign!" she cried, anxiousto relieve his mind at once. 

"Really? Oh, I say, Sis, it is good of you!"

There was no long line of grinning schoolboys to jeer, nor sedateChaddites to disapprove, so Honor hugged her brother this time to herheart's content. It seemed so delightful to see him again that shealmost forgot for the moment upon what errand she had come, onlyrealizing that he was there, and that she had him all to herself. Theremembrance of his trouble, however, quickly returned to her. 

"Come and tell me everything, " she said, drawing him towards thebathing-hut. "We can sit on these steps and talk. "

"I was rather doubtful whether my letter had reached you, " beganDermot; "I'd to settle with the janitor, and at first he said that theCollege was so strictly kept, it would be quite impossible. Afterwardshe gave way and said he'd try, but I couldn't see him again to ask ifhe'd really managed the affair; I had just to come to the cove onchance. I can tell you I was glad when I saw you coming down the rocks. Oh, Honor, I've got myself into the most awful mess!"

"How is it? I don't understand. Who is this Blake?"

"He has a place in Dunscar, a kind of second-rate veterinary surgeon'sbusiness; and he sells dogs, and rats, and rabbits, and even does alittle mole-catching, I believe--rather a low-class sporting chap, infact. Roper took me to the kennels one day, to see a spaniel. Some ofour fellows keep dogs there, and Blake looks after them. Well, I likedthe spaniel; it was a perfect beauty! Roper said Blake only wanted tenshillings for it, and it was an absolute bargain. He advised me to buyit and keep it at the kennels. I'd run through all my cash by then, butBlake said I could go on tick if I cared; and I thought it was a pityto miss the chance, because if I didn't have the dog, Jarrow was goingto take him. "

"I suppose you mayn't keep dogs at school?" said Honor. 

"Rather not! You'd have liked this one, Honor! His name was Terry, andhe was as jolly as poor old Doss used to be. He got to know medirectly, and he'd come jumping and trying to lick my face. He wasclever, too; he could do all kinds of tricks--trust for a biscuit, andlie down and die, and give three barks for the King. I grew so fond ofhim, and I meant to take him home with me in the holidays. Well, Ihadn't been able to go to the kennels for several days, and when atlast I managed to run down there Blake told me that Terry was dead andburied. He looked so shifty when he said it that I had my suspicions atonce. I don't believe Terry died at all; I'm sure Blake sold him tosomebody else, who has taken him away. "

"Oh, what a shame!" exclaimed Honor. 

"It's just like the fellow, though--he's an atrocious cad! Of course, Icouldn't prove anything. I could only say that Terry had looked allright when last I saw him, and it seemed a queer thing for him to popoff so suddenly; but then Blake rounded on me with all sorts of medicalterms, and said he'd made a post-mortem examination, and could give mea written certificate. As if that would have been of any use! Well, thelong and short of it was, we had a quarrel, and Blake turned nasty. Hesaid he wanted the money I owed him for the dog, and he gave me animmense bill for its keep. It was quite ridiculous; he made out it hadeaten pounds and pounds of Spratt's biscuits every week, and that he'dbought fresh meat for it too. I'm sure he hadn't! I disputed everyitem; but he said if I wasn't satisfied I could refer the matter to theHead. The whole affair came to exactly a sovereign. I couldn't possiblypay it--I hadn't more than a few shillings left in the world. I triedto get him to give me tick for a little longer, but he was as surly asa bear, and threatened that if I didn't turn up with the money byWednesday, he'd send in the bill to the Head. "

"I suppose that would mean a big row?"

"Simply terrific! You see, the kennels are out of bounds; besideswhich, we've all been warned we're to have nothing to do with Blake. The Head said he was a rascal, and any fellow who went to his placewould do so at the risk of expulsion. I was an idiot to let myself getmixed up in such a business, but Roper, and Graveson, and severalothers had dogs, and I was so taken with that black spaniel! I thoughtand schemed how I could find a way out of it. I didn't dare to writehome to the Mater: if she's well enough to read her own letters, she'dbe in quite a nervous state of mind about it; and if she's ill, thenthe governor will open them all for her, and you know what he'd say!"

"It would be as bad as when I bought Firefly, " replied Honor. "He wasmost fearfully angry that time. "

"And he'd be harder on me than on you, because you're a girl. Hecouldn't thrash you, however much he might scold you. I've had a littleexperience of his hunting-crop before, and it's not exactly pleasant. "

"Yes, I remember--when you took the cartridges out of his guncupboard. "

"Well, I say, Honor, I mustn't stay here too long; I've got to be backbefore anyone's about the place, you know. "

"Did you get off all right?"

"Oh, yes! I dropped out of the dormitory window on to a piece of roofnear, and let myself down by the spout. It was quite simple. "

"How about climbing up again?"

"Easy as A B C. "

"Well, here's the pound, at any rate. "

"Thanks immensely! How is it you're so flush of cash?"

"I'm not. I've hardly any of my pocket-money left. This is my Jubileesovereign. "

"Not the one Uncle Murtagh gave you?"

"Yes. "

"Oh, Honor, I am sorry! I scarcely like to take it. "

"Don't be absurd! You must!"

"But you had the thing as a locket, and vowed you'd never part withit. "

"It can't be helped. Vows are sometimes better broken. Uncle Murtaghtold me to keep it until I happened to want it very badly, and I'm surewe need it to-day. "

"Well, I do, at any rate, though it seems rather a swindle tocommandeer your particular, pet treasure. I'll have to borrow it now, I'm afraid; but I'll get you another some time, I promise youfaithfully. "

"I don't care in the least, so long as you get out of this scrape, "protested Honor. 

The sun was already so high that its bright rays, reflected in a littlepool near their feet, warned the pair that it was no longer safe todelay their parting. 

"It's a quarter to six!" exclaimed Dermot, looking at his watch. "Imust absolutely fly. I'll run all the way to Dunscar. I hope you'll getback quite safely into the College. You were a perfect trump to come. Good-bye; I'm off!"

Honor stood watching him until he had disappeared round the rocks atthe end of the cove, then half-regretfully she climbed up the stepsagain on to the headland. She returned to St. Chad's the same way asshe had come, walking across the pasture and climbing the fence of thecricket ground. She found the French window in the dressing-room stillajar, and bolted it on the inside before she went upstairs. All wasstill quite quiet in the hall and on the landing, and she was able toregain her room without any alarms. 

Janie looked up nervously as the door opened. She had been lying awake, suffering far more anxiety on her friend's behalf than Honor hadexperienced for herself, and she gave a sigh of intense relief onhearing that the interview was successfully accomplished. 

"I've been thinking it over, " she said, "and I really believe it wouldhave been much the best to go straight to Miss Maitland and tell herabout it. She's very kind and sympathetic; perhaps she would have letyou meet Dermot, and then you could have gone openly, and without allthis dreadful stealing up and down stairs. "

"I daren't risk it, " replied Honor. "Suppose she had said 'No'? Ishould have been far worse off than if I hadn't asked. Besides which, she might have insisted upon telling Dr. Winterton. That's quite withinthe bounds of possibility; and then I should have given poor old Dermotaway. "

"On the whole, wouldn't it be more satisfactory for Dr. Winterton toknow?"

"Janie! How can you suggest such a thing?"

"Well, if, as you say, this man Blake is a scamp, and has really soldthe dog, it ought to be enquired into. If it were all exposed, perhapshe would be obliged to leave Dunscar and go to some other place, andthat would be much better for the boys at the Grange. "

"But in the meantime Dermot would be the scapegoat. "

"I don't believe Dr. Winterton would expel him, if he went and owned uphimself. He'd be rather angry, I dare say, but then the thing would beover, and there'd be no more fear of being found out. If Blake is sucha dishonest man, he may send in the same bill again. "

"Dermot said he should make him give a receipt for the money. No, Janie! You don't quite grasp the case. You've no brothers of your own, so how can you understand boys?"

"Then couldn't you have asked your father?" pleaded Janie desperately. "It seems--please don't be offended!--not quite straight to besuppressing the whole affair like this. "

"You don't know my father, or you wouldn't suggest it. He can be verystern, particularly with the boys. They always say he's more of amartinet at home than ever he was in the Army. Yes, I know you tellyour mother everything, but mothers are much more lenient than fathers. I'd tell mine, if she weren't ill. It's no use arguing, Janie! I'msorry if it isn't all on the square, but Dermot was in a very tightplace, and I felt bound to help him, even if I had to do somethingrather wrong. "

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. Thatshe, 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. 

CHAPTER XVI

A Rash Step

Honor's sleep was undoubtedly of a very pretended description. She laystill in bed, pressing her hand to her burning head, to try to calm thethrobbing in her temples and allow herself to think collectedly. Shemust decide upon what course she meant to take, for matters could notgo on thus any longer. Before nine o'clock to-morrow morning she mustagain face Miss Maitland, and take her choice between betraying Dermotand her expulsion from St. Chad's. In either case, the danger to herbrother seemed great. If Miss Cavendish wrote to Major Fitzgerald, asking him to remove his daughter from the College, he would naturallycome over to Chessington and make full enquiries as to the reason. Shewould not be able to face her father's questions, and Dermot's secretwould come out, after all. How might this most fatal consummation beavoided?

"If I were only at home, instead of here, then Father wouldn't be ableto go and call at Orley Grange, " she said to herself. 

It was a new idea. She wondered she had not thought of it before. Shewould solve the problem by running away! She would thus meet her fatherat Kilmore Castle, instead of in Miss Maitland's presence at St. Chad's; and could avoid many awkward questions, simply saying she hadbeen accused of taking a sovereign, and leaving out Dermot's part inthe story altogether. 

The prospect was immensely attractive. She felt scarcely capable ofonce more confronting the cold scorn of her companions. Home seemed ahaven of refuge, an ark in the midst of a deluge of trouble, the oneplace in the wide world where she could fly for help. Perhaps hermother might be better, and well enough to see her, and she could thenpour out her perplexities into sympathetic ears. But how to get toIreland? It was impossible to travel without money, and she had lessthan a shilling left in her purse. She knew, however, that a line ofsteamboats ran from Westhaven to Cork; if she could walk to the formerplace she thought she could persuade the captain of one of the vesselsto take her to Cork by promising that her father's solicitor, who livedthere, would pay for her when she arrived. Mr. Donovan had often beenon business at Kilmore Castle; she knew the address of his office, andwas sure that he would advance her sufficient to pay for both thesteamer journey and her railway ticket to Ballycroghan. 

The first thing, therefore, to be done was to leave the College asearly and as secretly as she could. She did not dare to go to sleep, but lay tossing uneasily until the first hint of dawn. Sunrise was atabout four o'clock, so soon after half-past three it was just lightenough to enable her to get up and dress. Miss Maitland had sent aglass of milk and a plate of sandwiches and biscuits for her supper thenight before, but she had left them untouched on her dressing-table. Now, however, she had the forethought to drink the milk and put thebiscuits and sandwiches in her pocket. The face which confronted herwhen she looked in the glass hardly seemed her own, it was sounwontedly pale, and had such dark rings round the eyes. She moved veryquietly, for she was anxious not to waken her room-mate. 

"Janie mustn't know what I intend, or she'll get into trouble for notstopping me, " she thought. "It's a comfort that she, at any rate, doesn't believe I've done this horrible thing, and that she'll stand upfor me when I'm gone. "

She listened for a minute, till the sound of her friend's even andregular breathing reassured her; then, drawing aside the curtain, shecrept into the next cubicle. Janie was lying fast asleep, her headcradled on her arm. With her fair hair falling round her cheeks, shelooked almost pretty. Honor bent down and kissed the end of one of theflaxen locks, but too gently to disturb its owner; then, with ascarcely breathed good-bye, she left the room. She had laid her planscarefully, and did not mean to be discovered and brought back toschool; so, instead of going downstairs, and thus passing both VivianHolmes's and Miss Maitland's doors, she went to the other end of thepassage, where the landing window stood wide open, and, managing toclimb down by the thick ivy, reached the ground without mishap. Shecrept through the garden under the laurel bushes, and, avoiding thecricket field, scaled the wall close to the potting shed, helped verymuch by a large heap of logs that had been left there ready to bechopped. Once successfully over, she set off running in the directionof the moors, and never stopped until she was quite out of sight ofeven the chimneys of St. Chad's. Then, hot and utterly breathless, shesat down on the grass to rest. 

It was still very early, for the sun had only just risen. The air wasfresh and pleasant. Behind her lay green, round-topped hills, and infront stretched the sea, smooth as glass, with a few small, white sailsgleaming in the distance. Innumerable rabbits kept scuttling past. Onesmall one came so near that she almost caught it with her hands, but itdived away into its burrow in a moment. She brought out her sandwichesand biscuits, and began to eat them. She was hungry already, andthought wistfully of breakfast. The bread had gone rather dry and thebiscuits a little stale, but she enjoyed them, sitting on the hillside, especially when she remembered all she had escaped from at St. Chad's. She felt that, once back in dear old Ireland, her difficulties would benearly at an end, and she registered a solemn vow never to cross theChannel again, except under the strictest compulsion. The last fragmentof biscuit having vanished, she got up and shook down the crumbs forthe birds; then, turning towards the hills, she struck a footpath whichshe thought must surely lead in the right direction. Westhaven, thoughtwenty-five miles away by the winding coast road, or the railway, wasonly twelve miles distant if she went, as the crow flies, over themoors. The authorities at the College, she imagined, would never dreamof looking for her there. When they discovered her absence they wouldprobably suppose she had gone to Dunscar, and would enquire at thestation, and search the main road; but, of course, nobody would haveseen her, and there would be no clue to her whereabouts. 

She was so pleased to have such a good start that she felt almost inhigh spirits, and strode along at a fair pace, keenly enjoying theunwonted sense of freedom. It was very lonely on the moors, and noteven a cottage was to be seen. The path was hardly more than a sheeptrack, sometimes nearly effaced with grass, and she had to trace it asbest she could. After some hours she began to grow tired anddesperately hungry again. She wondered how she was to manage anythingin the way of lunch; then, hailing with delight the sight of a smallfarm nestling in a hollow between two hills, she turned her steps atonce in that direction. She had a sixpence and two pennies in herpocket, and thought that she might perhaps be able to buy some food. 

The farm, on nearer acquaintance, proved a rather dirty anddilapidated-looking place. Honor picked her way carefully through thelitter in the yard, and was about to knock at the door, when a colliedog flew from the barn behind, barking furiously, showing his teeth, and threatening to catch hold of her skirt. Much to her relief, he wascalled off by a slatternly, hard-featured woman, who, hearing thenoise, came out of the house with a pail in her hand, and stood lookingat her visitor in much amazement. 

"I want to know, " said Honor, "if you can let me have a glass of milkand some bread and butter, and how much you would charge for it. "

"We don't sell milk here, " replied the woman, shaking her head. "I'vejust put it all down in the butter-pot, so I'm afraid I can't obligeyou. "

"Oh!" said Honor blankly. Then, "I should be so glad of a little breadand butter, if you can let me have it. "

"Are you out on a picnic?" asked the woman. "Where are the rest ofyou?"

"No, I'm by myself, " answered Honor. "I'm walking across the moors toWesthaven. "

"To Westhaven? You're on the wrong road, then. That path will lead youout at Windover, if you follow it. "

Poor Honor was almost dumbfounded at such unexpected bad news. 

"Have I gone very far wrong?" she faltered. "I must get on to Westhavenas fast as I can. Perhaps you can tell me the right way?"

"Aye, I can put you on the path, if you want, " replied the woman; "butyou'll have a good long bit to go. "

"Is there any village where I could buy something to eat? I've hadnothing since breakfast, " said Honor, returning again to her first andmost pressing need. 

"No, there ain't, " said the woman; then, apparently softening a little, "Look here, I don't mind making you a cup of tea, if you care to payfor it. The kettle's boiling. You can step in if you like. "

Glad to get a meal in any circumstances, Honor entered the squalidkitchen, and tried not to notice the general untidiness of hersurroundings, while the woman hastily cleared the table and set out ateacup and saucer, a huge loaf, butter, and a pot of tea. The dog hadmade friends, and crept up to Honor, snuggling his nose into her hand;and a tabby cat, interested in the preparations, came purring eagerlyto join the feast. Honor did not know whether to call it latebreakfast, dinner, or tea, but she told Janie afterwards she thoughtshe must have eaten enough to combine the three, though she only paidsixpence for it all. She finished at last, and got up to go; then, remembering the long walk still in store for her, she gave the farmer'swife her remaining twopence for some extra slices of bread and butterto take with her. 

"It's a tidy step for a young lady like you, and a-going quite alonetoo, " said the woman, eyeing Honor keenly as she led her round the sideof the cottage, to point out the right path. "You've come from over byDunscar, I take it?"

"Oh, I'm a good walker!" replied Honor, who did not wish to encourageenquiries. "I shall soon get along. Thank you for coming so far withme. "

"You're welcome, " said the woman. "I hope you'll keep the path, andreach there safe; but if you'll take my advice, you'll turn round theother way and go straight back to school. You'd just get there bytea-time. "

Honor started at this parting remark, and hurried on as fast as shecould. How did the woman guess she had run away from the College? Ofcourse!--she had forgotten her hat. Everyone in the neighbourhood ofChessington knew the unmistakable "sailors", with their colouredribbons and badges. She might have remembered they would easily berecognized, and blamed her own stupidity and lack of forethought. Shehoped no message would be sent to Miss Cavendish, and looked roundcarefully to see if she were being followed. Yes, she could certainlysee the woman now, calling a boy from a field, and pointing eagerly inher direction. They would perhaps try to take her back against herwill, and she would be marched ignominiously, like a prisoner, to St. Chad's. 

"That they shall never do!" she thought, and choosing a moment when thepair were passing round the front of the house, she turned from thepath and scrambled up the bed of a small stream on to the hills again. She decided that so long as she knew the right points of the compass, it would be quite easy to find her way, as she could walk in a linewith the path, only higher up on the moor, where she would be neitherseen nor followed. She flung her hat away, determined that it shouldnot betray her again; and, on the whole, she liked to have her headbare, the wind felt so fresh and pleasant blowing through her hair. Fora while she went on briskly, then, coming across a spring, which roseclear and bubbling through the grass and sedges, she took off her shoesand stockings, and sat dabbling her feet in the water, watching a pairof dragon flies, and plaiting rings from the rushes that grew around. 

She stayed there so long that when she happened to look at her watchshe was startled to find it was nearly half-past four. 

"I must push on, " she said to herself. "I've a long way to be goingyet. I wonder what time the steamer starts for Cork, and if I shallfind it waiting in the harbour?"

She was quite sure that she had come in exactly the same direction asthe path, but somehow she did not seem to be getting any nearer tocivilization. On and on she wandered, hour after hour, seeing nothingbefore her but the same bare, grass-covered hills, till she began togrow alarmed, and to suspect that after all she had completely missedher way. The sun was setting, and as the great, red ball of fire sankbehind the horizon, her spirits fell in proportion. What was she to do, alone and lost on the hills? Even if she could reach Westhaven indaylight, she would not like to be obliged to go to the quay in thedark; and suppose there were no night boat, like the mail steamer inwhich she had crossed from Dublin to Holyhead, where could she go untilmorning? She had not foreseen any of these difficulties when she setout, it had all appeared so easy and simple; but she saw now what arisky adventure she had undertaken. She was almost in despair, whenluckily she came across a track sufficiently trodden to indicate thatit probably led to some human habitation. It was growing very duskindeed now, but she could just see to trace the path, and she hurriedhopefully on, till at length the lights of a farm-house window shoneout through the gathering gloom. 

At first Honor thought of knocking boldly at the door and asking forfood and shelter; but then, she reflected that the people of the housewould think it most strange for a nicely dressed girl to presentherself so late in the evening with such a request, and would be sureto ask awkward questions, and might possibly send a messenger to theCollege to tell of her arrival, detaining her there in the morninguntil Miss Cavendish or Miss Maitland arrived to fetch her. Even supperand a bed, welcome though they might prove, would be too dearly boughtat such a price; and she determined, instead, to spend the night in abarn, the door of which stood conveniently open. It was half-filledwith newly made, sweet-smelling hay, on to which she crept in thedarkness; and flinging herself down, she drew some of it under her headfor a pillow. A strange bed indeed, and very different from the one inher cubicle at St. Chad's! But at least she was free to go when shepleased; she meant to be up at daybreak, before anyone on the farm wasastir, and to-morrow she would surely reach Westhaven and the steamer, and be able to start for that goal of all her wanderings--home. 

It is easy enough before you go to sleep to resolve that you will rouseyourself at a certain time, but not quite so simple to carry it out, especially when you happen to be dead tired; and Honor's case was noexception to the rule. Instead of waking at dawn, she slept peacefullytill nearly eight o'clock, and might even have slept on longer still ifthe farmer and his son had not chanced to stroll into the barn on theirway to the stable. The boy was walking to the far end to hang a rope ona nail, when he suddenly ran back, with his eyes nearly dropping fromhis head with surprise. 

"Dad!" he cried. "Dad! Come and look here! There's a girl sleeping onthe hay!"

Honor, newly aroused, was just raising herself up on her elbow; she hadnot quite collected her senses, nor realized where she was. Startled bythe voices, she jumped up, with the instinctive impulse to run away;then, seeing that two strangers stood between her and the open door, she sat down again on the hay and burst out crying. 

[Illustration: "STARTLED BY THE VOICES, SHE JUMPED UP"]

"There! There!" said the farmer. "Don't you take on so, missy; we ain'ta-goin' to hurt you. Tom, you'd best run in and fetch Mother hither!"

"Mother", a stout, elderly woman, arrived panting on the scene in a fewmoments. No lady in the land could possibly have proved kinder in suchan emergency. She kissed and soothed poor Honor, took her indoors andgave her hot water to bathe her face and wash her hands, and finallysettled her down in a corner of the delightfully clean farm-kitchen, with a dainty little breakfast before her. 

Honor felt sorely tempted to unburden herself of her story to this truefriend in need, but the dread that she would be sent back to St. Chad'skept her silent, and she only said that she had been lost on the moor, and was anxious to get to Westhaven, and to go home as speedily aspossible, all of which was, of course, absolutely true. Mrs. Ledbury, no doubt, had her suspicions; but, seeing that questions disturbed herguest, with true delicacy she refrained from pressing her, andsuggested instead that, as her husband was driving into Westhavenmarket that morning, he could give her a lift, and save her a walk ofnearly seven miles. 

Honor jumped at the opportunity; she felt stiff and worn out after heryesterday's experiences, and much disinclined for further rambles; soit was with a sigh of genuine relief that she found herself seated inthe high gig by the side of the old farmer. 

"Good-bye, dearie!" said Mrs. Ledbury, tucking a shawl over Honor'sknees, and pressing a slice of bread and honey into her hand, from fearthat she might grow hungry on the road. "You run straight home when youget to Westhaven! They'll be in a fair way about you, they will that!It gives me a turn yet to think of you sleeping in the barn all nightlong, with rats and mice scrambling round you, and me not to know youwas there!"

Mr. Ledbury was evidently not of a communicative disposition; he drovealong without vouchsafing any remarks, and Honor was so lost in herthoughts that she did not feel disposed to talk to him. Her greatanxiety now was to catch the steamer to Cork; she wished she had someidea of the time of its starting, and only hoped that it did not setoff early in the morning, for to miss it would seem almost more thanshe could bear. The gig jolted slowly on over the uneven road, till atlength the moor gave way to suburban villas and gardens, quicklyfollowed by streets and shops; and they finally drew up in the busymarket-place of Westhaven. 

Mr. Ledbury helped Honor to dismount, and having thanked him and saidgood-bye, she turned round the nearest corner; then, once safely out ofhis sight, she set off as fast as she could for the harbour. Partly, perhaps, because she enquired chiefly from children, whose directionswere not very clear, and partly because it is generally difficult tofind one's way in a fresh place, it was a long time before she saw thewelcome gleam of the water and the masts of the shipping; and then, after all, she found she had come to the wrong quay, and it was only bydint of continual asking that at last she arrived at the particularlanding-stage of the Irish steamers. 

"Want the boat to Cork, miss?" said the weather-beaten seaman to whomshe addressed her question. "Why, she's bin gone out an hour and a halfago. She was off at eleven prompt. When will there be another, did yesay? Not till eight to-night, and she's only a cargo. "

Honor's hopes, which had managed to sustain her spirits so far, droppedto zero at this bad news. There she was, penniless, in a strange town;and how could she get through all the long, weary hours until theevening? Gulping down a lump in her throat, she asked the sailor if thecargo vessel were already in the harbour, and if it were possible thatshe might go on board now, and wait there till it should be time to setsail. 

"We're expecting of her in every minute, " said the man, looking atHonor curiously. "You can speak to the captain when she comes. Maybehe'd let you, maybe he wouldn't; I shouldn't like to give anopinion"--which, to say the least, was not consoling. 

Honor walked on a little farther down the landing-stage, trying to winkback her tears. She was in a desperate strait, and almost began to wishshe had never left St. Chad's. Suppose the captain would not take herwithout the money for her passage? Possibly he might not know Mr. Donovan's name, and would think she was an impostor; what would she dothen? She turned quite cold at the idea, and had to sit down on abulkhead to recover herself, for she felt as though her legs wereshaking under her. 

She did not remember how long she sat there. A noise and bustle behindpresently attracted her attention, and turning round, she saw that asteamer was arriving, and that the sailors were busy catching the thickcables and fastening the vessel to the wharf. The gangway was thrownacross, and a few passengers stepped on shore. They had evidentlytravelled steerage--two or three women, with babies and bundles, and aparty of Irish labourers come over for the harvest, with theirbelongings tied in red pocket-handkerchiefs; but after them strode atall figure, with a grey moustache, at the sight of whom Honor sprangup from her seat with a perfect scream of delight, and raced along thequay like a whirlwind, to fling herself joyfully into the gentleman'sarms. 

"Father! Father!" she sobbed. "Oh, is it really and truly you?"

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 wasn'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 and 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. 

"Someone 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!"

 * * * * *

PRINTED IN GREAT BRITAIN_At the Villafield Press, Glasgow, Scotland_