WHISPERS

March, with its winds and storms, slipped away as though glad to whisk such trying days off the calendar, and, ere the girls realized it, Easter vacation was upon them, and capricious April was playing the schoolgirl herself, with one day a smile and the next a frown. But, like the schoolgirl, her smiles were all the sunnier for the frowns.

It must indeed be a dull, prosy old heart which cannot respond to the soft beauty of early spring, and want to frisk and frolic for very sympathy with all the new life springing into existence all about it. And there were no dull or prosy ones at Sunny Bank.

For some time the girls had known that this would be Miss Howard's last year with them; but now little whispers began to fly about, as little whispers have a trick of doing, that Miss Howard was about to enter another school, where she would be pupil instead of teacher, and there learn the sweetest lesson ever taught on this big earth--a lesson which says, "Not mine and thine, but ours, for ours is mine and thine;" and, while they rejoiced in her happiness, they were nearly inconsolable at the thought of losing her, for she had filled a very beautiful place in their lives--far more beautiful than they suspected. It was always Miss Howard who entered into all their little plans and pleasures, partic.i.p.ated in their joys, and sympathized with their sorrows.

She was little more than a girl herself, yet possessed the strength of character sometimes wanting in a much older person, and by it set a beautiful example for her girls to follow. And they followed it unconsciously to themselves and to her, for never was there a more modest little body than Miss Howard, and had anyone hinted that she was a mighty balance-wheel to her fly-away girls, a source of encouragement to her timid ones, an inspiration to her ambitious ones, and an object of very sincere affection to all, she would probably have been the most surprised person in the school. Yet such was undoubtedly the fact, and it would have been a very wrong-headed girl, indeed, who was not ready to yield to her influence.

"If I felt criss-cross with all the world, I believe I'd have to smile back when Miss Howard smiled at me," said Toinette, shortly after she became a pupil in the school. "Her eyes are just as soft as the little Alderney bossie's, and her lips look sort of grieved if the girls look cross."

And so the whispers grew louder and louder till just after the Easter holidays were over, and then all who loved her best learned that early in June wedding bells would ring and a very bonny bride would step forth from Sunny Bank, with several bonny bridesmaids leading the way, and one maid of honor to scatter the posies which were to be symbolical, as all hoped, of her future pathway through life.

And then arose the all-important question as to whom Miss Howard would choose for that great honor, and excitement ran high.

All the girls had a strong suspicion that it would be Toinette, although, to do her justice, Toinette herself did not suspect it. Still, Miss Howard had taken a keen interest in the girl ever since she entered the school, and felt strongly drawn toward her, being quick to see her good qualities, and to understand that the undesirable ones were very largely the result of unfortunate circ.u.mstances. So she had striven in her sweet and gracious way to help Toinette without words, and had been a strong support to Miss Preston.

As the warm spring days made wood and field to blossom, the girls spent a great deal of their time out of doors. Sunny Bank's grounds were very beautiful, and the adjacent field and woodland very enticing at that season. Basket-ball was a favorite source of amus.e.m.e.nt, and the lawn devoted to it as soft and smooth as velvet. So nearly every afternoon the team could be seen bounding about like so many marionettes, and if touseled hair and demoralized attire resulted, what did it matter? Rosy cheeks and ravenous appet.i.tes were excellent compensations.

It was the fifteenth of April, and Toinette's birthday. Many a climb had the expressman's horse taken up the long hill leading to Sunny Bank that morning, for, if Toinette had but few friends, she certainly had a very generous father, who meant that she should have her full share of birthday remembrances, and they kept coming thick and fast all day. With each came a funny note to say that he was sending still another package because he did not want her to have all her surprises in a lump; they would seem so much more if coming in installments. So they kept coming all day long, and by four o'clock her room looked like a fancy bazaar. Last of all to arrive was a large box upon which was printed in flaring scarlet letters: "Not to be opened till it is ten A. M. in _Bombay_."

The box stood in the hall when Miss Preston pa.s.sed through the hall to dinner, and, unless suddenly stricken with ophthalmy, she could not fail to see the flaring notice. "Ah," she said, softly, to herself, "you have a triple mission, you inanimate bit of the carpenter's skill: first, to teach my girls a lesson in longitude and time, second, to mutely ask my permission for a frolic to-night, and, third, to suggest that when birthdays arrive it would be a most auspicious time for the "C. C. C.'s"

to hold their revels, and that Diogenes' tub, if not himself, would be welcome, so I had better act upon the hint and contribute my share. Thank you, sir," and, with a funny little nod to the box, she went on to the dining-room.

"What is the joke, Miss Preston?" asked Cicely, as Miss Preston took her seat.

"Do you think I'm going to spoil it by revealing it so soon? No, indeed,"

and she laughed softly.

When dinner was ended the girls flocked around the box and curiosity ran riot. "What does that mean, Miss Preston? Do tell us."

"I have other matters of such importance on hand that I must deputize Miss Howard to unravel the mystery for you," she said, as she slipped away to the upper hall where the telephone was placed, and a moment later the girls heard the bell jingle and a funny, one-sided conversation followed.

"h.e.l.lo, Central! 1305. Is this 1305? Send me the usual order. Yes, four kinds. Eight. Well packed. Be prompt."

The porter carried the big box to Toinette's room and removed the lid for her. Such an array! I'm not going to attempt to tell about it, but shall let every girl who has ever attended a chum's birthday feast mention the articles of which that feast consisted, and then, after combining the entire list, they can form some idea of the contents of Toinette's box.

"Fly, Cicely, and hunt up every C. C. C., and a dozen besides! We can never dispose of such a cartload of stuff in a week if we don't have the entire school to help us," cried Toinette, as she lifted one thing after another from the box.

There is a saying that "Ill news flies fast," but, in my humble opinion, it is as a stage-coach beside the Empire State Express when compared to the fleetness of good news. So it did not take long to start this bit like an electric fluid through the school, and what sort of "Free Masonry"

filled in details so successfully I know not.

CHAPTER XXV

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING UP THIS TIME OF NIGHT?"

It so happened that of the ten resident teachers but three were at home that evening; the others having joined a theatre party going to town, and it would be midnight before they returned.

Those at home were Miss Preston, Miss Howard, and, unfortunately, Mrs.

Stone. Of the first two mentioned the girls felt small apprehension, for they understood them pretty thoroughly, but Mrs. Stone was an obstacle not so easily surmounted, and it seemed to them that she was never more ubiquitous.

At nine-thirty Miss Preston had bade all good-night in an unusually solicitous manner, wishing each happy dreams. Miss Howard had also retired to her room promptly at the stroke of the clock, and everything worked most auspiciously excepting the tucking away of Mother Stone, and she positively refused to be tucked, but kept prowling about like a lost spirit, till Ruth said, in desperation: "If she doesn't get settled down pretty soon I'll do something desperate; see if I don't."

From room to room she went, popping her head in at one to ask if there was anything she could do for this girl, listening at the next door for sounds of insomnia, creeping stealthily on through the corridors to learn if any girl who ought to be en route for Sleepy Town had by chance missed her way.

She had made her way as far as the lower end of the hall, where on one side the stairs leading to the third story joined it, and on the other a door opened into the bath-room, when a rustle at the head of the stairs caused her to glance quickly in that direction; but it was too dark for her to see anything at the top of them. She paused to listen, and her sharp ears detected the sound again. That was sufficient. Up she flew and came plump upon Lou Cornwall, who had not had time to fly. Lou was stout and did not move quickly, and was fair prey for Mrs. Stone, who was as thin as a match, and managed to glide about like a wraith.

Lou was arrayed in her bath-robe, and had her cap and mask in her hand.

Quickly concealing them behind her lest Mrs. Stone's sharp eyes should discover them even in the dark, she stood stock still waiting developments. Mrs. Stone stooped from her towering height of five feet nine to peer into the face of the plump little figure huddled in the corner. "How you startled me," she said. "Why are you standing here when everyone else is in bed, and what are you doing up this time of night?"

"I had to get up, Mrs. Stone."

"Why, may I enquire?"

"I am going to the bath-room."

"Then, why in the world don't you _go_ and not stand huddled up here as though you were bent on some mischief? It is no wonder that we suspect you when you take such extraordinary ways of doing perfectly simple things. Go on at once, and, if you have been hesitating because you are timid, I'll wait here till you return," and down she planted herself upon the top step to mount guard.

Groaning inwardly, away went Lou, muttering: "If I don't keep you perched there till you nearly freeze, my name isn't Lou Cornwall!"

And keep her she did, till Mrs. Stone had another trouble added to her many, for she began to fear that Lou had been taken ill, and went to the bath-room door to speak to her. Finding that she could not hold out any longer, out she came, and, after receiving some very emphatic admonitions from Mrs. Stone, crept away to her room disgusted with herself, the world at large, and Mrs. Stone in particular.

Meantime, the other girls began to suspect that Lou had fallen into ambush, and sent out a scout to reconnoiter, and it was not many seconds before the scout came scuttling back with the alarming information that the enemy was close at hand; in fact, that she was even now coming upon them in force, for, when Mother Stone found that Lou did not come from the bath-room as promptly as she thought she should, all her suspicions were instantly aroused, and she was keen to make discoveries.

The girls had planned to meet in Toinette's room, and creep from there to the old laundry as soon as all were a.s.sembled. About a dozen were already there, but, when the scout returned with such dire tidings, they decided that discretion was the better part of valor, and all made haste to get back to their rooms ere the enemy appeared. But, alack-a-day! that enemy could flit about in a surprisingly lively manner, and, ere some of them had reached safety behind their own doors, she came in view. To get to their rooms now was out of the question, so, making a virtue of necessity, they all slipped into a large closet used by the housemaids for their brooms, etc.

Whether it was from a wholesome fear that Miss Preston would be very apt to criticize a too p.r.o.nounced vigilance that Mrs. Stone refrained from opening the girls' doors, but contented herself with simply listening, I cannot say, but if she heard no sound within she always pa.s.sed on and left them to their innocent (?) slumbers. So on she went from one room to another, but, luckily, the alarm had gone before, and at each room darkness and profound silence prevailed. Satisfied that "all was well,"

she murmured something about, "It is always well to be upon the alert, for once the girls understand that someone is sure to detect the first signs of mischief, they are far less liable to carry it to excess," she set off for her own room. In pa.s.sing by the housemaid's door she saw that it was not tightly closed and locked, as was the custom at night, and, with a joyous chuckle at her own astuteness, she pounced upon it, locked the door, and withdrawing the key sailed triumphantly to her room, where, serene in her sense of well-doing, she fell as sound asleep as her nature permitted.

Meantime, how fared it with the mice in the trap? When the key was turned in the door, and they were made prisoners, nothing but the pitch darkness which enveloped them as a garment prevented each girl's face from plainly announcing to her neighbor: "Here is a pretty kettle of fish!" There were five in the closet: Ruth, Edith, Pauline, May and Marie. Luckily, a resourceful party. When all sound from the hall had ceased, Ruth gave just one howl, and then jumped up and down three times as hard as she could jump, by way of giving vent to her state of mind. Fortunately, the door was a heavy one and the sound did not reach Mother Stone's ears.

"You crazy thing!" exclaimed Edith, "next thing you know you will have her after us again."

"Suppose we do; we've got to get out somehow, haven't we?"

"Yes, but she is the last one in the world we want to let us out. What a fix! If the girls only knew of it, they would come and let us out."

"How could they when she has the key, I'd like to know?"

Edith groaned: "I never thought of that plagued old key. Bother take her and it, too! Why couldn't she have gone to bed just as everybody else did, and have minded her own business, too."

"That was exactly what she thought she was doing," laughed May.

"It's all very well to laugh, but _how_ are we to get down to the laundry, I'd like to know; or the girls ever find out where we are?"