"Why, I'd swopped that brooch with Tootie for a penknife ages ago. We're always swopping our things in IV B."

"The whole business seems to have been a comedy of errors," said Ulyth.

"Some mischievous Puck threw dust in our eyes and blinded us to the truth."

After all, it was the juniors that suffered most, for Miss Teddington, who had been very angry at the whole affair, turned the vials of her wrath upon them, and took them to task for their illicit traffic in cakes. This, at any rate, she was determined to punish, and not a solitary sinner was allowed to escape. Tootie, the original leader in rebellion, issued from her interview in the study such a crushed worm as to stifle any lingering seeds of mutiny among her crestfallen followers.

"What's to become of Susannah Maude?" asked everybody; and Miss Bowes answered the question.

"I am taking the poor child back to the Orphanage. I have told the police to warn her disreputable mother from this neighbourhood; but, as one can never be certain when she might turn up again, we must remove Susan altogether out of reach of her evil influence. A party of girls will be sent from the Home very soon to Canada, and we shall arrange for her to join them and emigrate to a new country, where she will be placed in a good situation on a farm and well looked after. She is not really a dishonest girl, and has a very grateful and affectionate disposition. I am confident that she will do us credit in the New World, and turn out a useful and happy citizen. Why yes, girls, if you like to make her a little good-bye present before she sails, you may do so. It is a kind thought, and I am sure she will appreciate it greatly."

"There's only one item not yet wiped out on the slate," said Ulyth to Lizzie. "Perhaps I ought to report myself for walking along the veranda roof. I'd feel more comfortable!"

"Go ahead, then! Teddie's at the confessional now."

"It's never been exactly forbidden," said Ulyth, with a twinkle in her eye, after she had stated the extent of her enormity to Miss Teddington.

"I would as soon have thought of forbidding you to climb the chimneys!

It was a dangerous experiment, and certainly must not be repeated. I'm surprised at a senior! No, as you have told me yourself, I will not enter it in your conduct-book. Please don't parade the roofs in future.

Now you may go."

"Got off even easier than I expected," rejoiced Ulyth to the waiting Lizzie. "Teddie's bark's always worse than her bite."

"We've found that out long ago," agreed Lizzie.

CHAPTER XIX

A Surprise

The storm-clouds that had gathered round the mystery of the lost pendant seemed to clear the air, and sunshine once more reigned at The Woodlands. The juniors were on their very best behaviour; they indulged in no more surrept.i.tious expeditions and abandoned their truculent att.i.tude towards the elder girls, who, while careful to preserve their dignity as seniors, were ready to wipe off old scores and start afresh.

Some manoeuvres in connection with the Camp-fire League proved a bond of union, for here there was no distinction between Upper and Lower School, since all were novices to the new work and had to learn alike.

None, indeed, had any time at present to get into mischief. As the end of the term, with its prospects of examinations, drew near, even the most hardened shirkers were obliged to put their shoulders to the wheel, and show a certain amount of intimacy with their textbooks. A nodding acquaintance with French verbs or the rules of Latin Grammar might suffice to shuffle through the ordinary lessons in form, but would be a poor crutch when confronted with a pile of foolscap paper and a set of questions, and likely to lead to disparaging items in their reports.

In every department, therefore, there was a flood-tide of effort.

Nature-study diaries, roughly kept, were neatly copied; lists of birds and flowers were revised; the geological specimens in the museum were rearranged and labelled, the art treasures in the studio touched up, while pianos seemed sounding from morning to night. The school was on its mettle to appear at high-water mark. Miss Bowes had lately inst.i.tuted an Old Girls' Union for The Woodlands, the first gathering of which was to be held in conjunction with the breaking-up festivity.

Quite a number of past pupils had accepted the invitation, and people of influence in the neighbourhood were also expected to be present.

"You must show the 'old girls' what you can do," said Miss Bowes, who was naturally anxious to make a good impression on the visitors. "I want them to think the standard raised, not lowered. Some of our ways will be new to them, and we must prove that the changes have been for the better."

It certainly seemed a goal to work for. Even the most irresponsible junior would feel humiliated if the "old girls" were to consider that the school had gone down, and all took a just pride in keeping up its reputation.

"Noelle Derrington and Phyllis Courtenay have accepted"--it was Stephanie who volunteered the information. "They have both been presented. And Irene Vernon has promised to come. She's been out two years now. I do hope those wretched kids in IV B will behave themselves.

Manners have gone off at The Woodlands in my opinion, even if the work's better. When my sister was a junior, she says, they would as soon have thought of ragging the mistresses as of cheeking the seniors."

"O tempora! O mores!" laughed Addie. "When you're an old lady, Stephie, you'll spend all your time lamenting the good old days of your youth, and telling the children just how much better-behaved girls used to be when you were at school."

"I shan't say so of our juniors, at any rate," snorted Stephanie.

"Have you heard yet who's coming from the neighbourhood?" Beth enquired.

"Mr. and Mrs. Arnold, of course, and Colonel and Mrs. Hepworth, and the Mowbrays, and the Langtons."

"Lord and Lady Glyncraig have accepted; Miss Harding told me so just now," remarked Christine.

"Oh, what luck!" Stephanie's eyes sparkled. "It will just give the finishing touch to the affair."

"Did you say that Lord and Lady Glyncraig are coming to our breaking-up party?" asked Rona quickly. She had joined the group in company with Winnie and Hattie.

"So I understand; but you needn't excite yourself. It isn't likely they'll notice juniors, though they'll probably speak to a few seniors whom they already know."

"Including Miss Stephanie Radford, of course," scoffed Winnie. "We shall expect to see you walking arm in arm with them round the grounds."

"And hear them giving you a most pressing invitation to Plas Cafn,"

Hattie added. "You don't get asked there as often as one would suppose, considering you're so intimate with them."

"The cheek of juniors grows beyond all bounds!" declared Stephanie, stalking away. "I'm afraid I know what Irene Vernon will think of the school."

It was of course impossible for all the parents of the girls to come to the "At Home", but a certain proportion had promised to be present.

There was a good hotel at Llangarmon, and they could put up there, and drive over for the occasion. The neighbourhood was so beautiful that several would take the opportunity of spending a few days in sightseeing.

"I've news to tell you," said Ulyth to Rona one morning, her face radiant as she showed a letter. "Who do you think are coming to the party? Motherkins and Oswald! Ossie'll just be home in time, so they're jaunting off to Elwyn Bay like a pair of honeymooners. Motherkins hasn't been very well, and Dad says the sea air will do her good--he can't leave business himself, more's the pity! Won't it be glorious to see them here! I could stand on my head, I'm so glad."

The prospect of meeting any members of the Stanton family again was a great pleasure to Rona, who treasured the memory of the Christmas holidays as her happiest experience in England. Mrs. Fowler was also to be present, so she would see the friend who had been kind to her at Eastertide as well.

"I'm glad my mother's coming," said Winnie. "When most of the other girls have somebody, its so horrid to be left out. Poor old Rona! I wish you'd got some relations of your own who could be here. It's hard luck!"

A shade crossed Rona's face. She hesitated, as if about to speak, then, apparently changing her mind, kept silence.

"What an idiotic duffer you are!" whispered Hattie to Winnie. "You needn't be always reminding her what a cuckoo she is."

"The Cuckoo's got its feathers now, and has grown a very handsome bird,"

said Winnie, watching Rona as the latter walked away.

The At Home was to be chiefly a gathering for the Old Girls' Union, but the present pupils were to provide a short programme, consisting of music and recitations, to occupy a portion of the afternoon. Only the brightest stars were selected to perform.

"The school's got to show off!" laughed Gertie. "It's to try and take the shine out of the old girls. Miss Bowes doesn't exactly like to say so, but that's what she means."

"No inferior talent permitted," agreed Addie. "Only freshwater oysters may wag their tails."

"Metaphor's a little mixed, my hearty. Perhaps you'll show us an oyster's tail?"

"Well, they've got beards, at any rate."

"To beard the lion with?"