"I'm always ready to hear you, and to make any concessions that are for the good of the school," replied Miss Thompson, gazing at the delegates as if they provided her with considerable food for thought.

The deputation departed, feeling that they had scored their first real triumph.

"Look here!" preached Annie to the Hawthorners, "we've just got to brace up. The boarders may put what they like on their stall, but our stall is going to be bigger and handsomer, and have far prettier things, and take ever so much more money than theirs. Every single girl of you has got to do her bit. There must be no slackers over this business."

The motive--if not strictly in accordance with the best morality--appealed to the day girls. They responded gallantly, and set all their home-folks working for the bazaar, as well as doing what they could in their own spare time. They kept their activities strictly secret from the ears of the boarders, but in private they compared notes and rejoiced.

"The new Lady Mayoress is to open the sale," announced Gladys one day.

"Mrs. Parker? Why, surely she's aunt to little Violet Parker, isn't she?"

"Of course she is."

"I'm going to get hold of Violet and be decent to her," nodded Annie sagely. "She's a sweet kid. I see possibilities through Violet. By the by, can you find me a copy of the Harlingden city arms?"

"It's a lion holding a broken chain. I saw it on a letter of Father's the other day. I can easily get it for you."

"Thanks! I've got a blossomy idea."

The day of the bazaar was to be a whole holiday. The large schoolroom was reserved for the sale, and the stalls were put up first thing in the morning. The day girls had elected a committee of management, and six of their number came to arrange their part of the fancy fair. They brought flags, draperies, flowers, and pots of plants, and set to work to decorate their stall. In the course of about half an hour it began to look a most artistic production. The boarders, busy setting out their wares at the other end of the room, cast surrept.i.tious glances at it. It was a humiliating fact for them, but they were forced to acknowledge that it far surpa.s.sed their own efforts. They had never thought of a canopy of white and gold, with a border of autumn leaves, or of borrowing maidenhair ferns and forced Roman hyacinths.

But the decorations were only the beginning of the day girls' triumph.

Their committee soon began to unpack boxes and spread out goods, most beautiful work of every description, which left their rivals gasping.

The day girls, living at home, had really had a much better opportunity of asking their friends to help, and had made a very special effort.

Gertrude Howells's cousin had contributed various dainty articles in poker work; Lucy Smith's elder sister, who was learning jewellery work at the School of Art, sent some most artistic little silver brooches and chains made by her own hands. Iris Harden's aunt gave Venetian beads and foreign curiosities; Monica Golding's family had plaited raffia baskets in barbaric, but most effective combinations of colour. Maggie Stuart caused a sensation by producing little boxes of delicious toffee--yes, real home-made toothsome toffee, in spite of the sugar rationing!

The boarders went on with their own preparations, and pretended not to take much notice, but really the spirit was knocked out of them. They had never expected the day girls to rise to such heights. They dressed rather quietly for the festivities that afternoon.

The sale was to open early, and at half-past two Miss Thompson, in her best voile dress, and with her most affable company manner, was welcoming the Lady Mayoress, a smiling, florid, rather flurried personage in velvet and rich furs, who had another function at half-past three, and wanted to get away as soon as was politely possible.

"So kind of you to ask me," she fluttered. "I'm really interested in schools--and education, you know. I'm afraid I'm not much of a speaker, but--oh, yes, I'll just say a few words to open the sale. Kind? Not at all. It's a great pleasure to me to come, I a.s.sure you."

The poor Lady Mayoress was new to her work, and palpably shy. Perhaps she thought a crowd of schoolgirls an embarra.s.sing audience. She hummed and hawed and stammered a little in her speech, and glanced several times at a piece of paper concealed behind her m.u.f.f, but she nevertheless managed to say something appropriate about the object of the bazaar, and to wish it success.

"I am very pleased to declare the Sale of Work open," she concluded with a sort of gasp, as if thankful that her duty was done, and smiled nervously at Miss Thompson, whose convex eyegla.s.ses had been fixed upon her with appreciation during the speech.

"Perhaps you would like to look at the work now," murmured the Princ.i.p.al.

"Oh, certainly! I'd _love_ to see it. What pretty things!"

And the Lady Mayoress, though she was standing within two feet of Adah Gartley and Consie Arkwright, actually turned her back on the boarders and made for the day girls' stall! Her eyes were fixed upon the central object displayed there, a satin cushion with the city arms embroidered upon it. She examined it with admiration.

"So beautifully done! And the colours are so effective! It will just match my drawing-room. I shall be delighted to have it. How clever your girls are, Miss Thompson! I suppose these are the prefects," smiling graciously at Annie Broadside and Gladys Wilks. "My little niece tells me about the school. She's so happy here."

"These are not our prefects," demurred Miss Thompson. "They are at the boarders' stall. Perhaps you would like to look at some of their work, too."

"Oh, with pleasure! Though I can't stay more than a minute. It's so tiresome; I have another engagement, and mustn't be late. But I've time for just a look, at any rate. Yes, the things are charming; they do the girls credit, I'm sure! May I have this tray cloth and this tea cosy?

I'm so sorry to rush away, but I really must say good-bye."

The Lady Mayoress departed, feeling no doubt that she had successfully accomplished a civic and social duty, and quite unaware of the storm she had left behind. The boarders were staring at their prefects in shocked sympathy. The whole business seemed almost incredible. That they, the old-established original Silversiders, who had always in former years run the sale of work, should be overlooked and pa.s.sed over in favour of mere upstart day girls, was little short of an insult to the school.

"She never even said 'How d'you do?' to Adah, and she shook hands with Annie!" gasped Ethelberga to Janet.

"And she spent three times as much at their stall as at ours!"

"It's a shame!"

The boarders felt that the afternoon had opened badly, and subsequent events did not tend to soothe their outraged feelings. Nearly all the day girls had invited relations or friends, who naturally went first to their stall to buy, with the result that the pretty things soon began to be cleared, and the money-box to grow heavy. Miss Thompson, anxious to preserve a due balance in affairs, did her best by taking her own special visitors to buy from the disconsolate prefects, and the mistresses also n.o.bly purchased many totally undesirable articles, for which they would find no possible use. If it had not been for this help, the boarders' stall would have had a poor innings. As it was, they barely scored one-third of the whole proceeds of the sale.

The Princ.i.p.al, in a pretty little speech next morning at nine o'clock, spoke of the very gratifying results of the happy spirit of unity in a school where all worked together for a good object, and the pleasure of being able to send such a large cheque to the Children's Home. Adah, with her eyes fixed on the bows of her shoes, listened grimly. It was all nice enough, she thought, for head mistresses to make soothing speeches, but boarders and day girls knew perfectly well that the welding of rival factions at Silverside would not be accomplished yet a while.

Quite apart from the warring of opposite parties, there seemed to be an element of unrest in the school. Formerly the boarders had been quite content to spend the leisure of their evenings at sewing, games, or over some of their numerous guilds. Now, incited by the accounts of the day girls, they were always asking to be taken in to Harlingden to concerts or picture palaces. Miss Thompson considered that such expeditions upset their preparation, and only allowed a very occasional outing. It was irritating to the boarders to hear the day girls discussing various entertainments, and to be openly pitied because they could not attend them. The Cowslip Room in particular grumbled privately.

"We never go to anything!"

"Life's just a round of lessons!"

"There's the most gorgeous thing on at the cinema this week."

"I'd give my ears to see it!"

"It's not our turn this week."

"Strafe the wretched old turns!"

Miss Thompson, in her efforts to avoid too much dissipation, had established a new rule, by which the dormitories in regular sequence were allowed leave. Every Wednesday afternoon certain little parties of boarders trotted off to the town under escort of a governess, doing shopping and often visiting a _matinee_. No girl might go without showing an exeat signed by the Princ.i.p.al. The chaperon-mistress was expected to examine and file these permits before marshalling her flock.

On this particular Wednesday, Laura, Janet, Irma, and Ethelberga had set their hearts on seeing "The Temple Bells" at the cinema. The fact that they had duly had their turn a fortnight before, and had witnessed a wildly exciting performance of "Love and War in the East", only made them keener for more thrills. When Avelyn, a little tired of the general atmosphere of lamentation, suggested palliating circ.u.mstances, their wrath blazed out in her direction.

"It's all very well for _you_ to talk!"

"You can go on Friday evening or Sat.u.r.day, if you like."

"You're half a day girl, after all!"

"You don't really sympathize with _us_!"

"All right! Don't get baity! As a matter of fact, I never come in to Harlingden on Sat.u.r.days, so you've no need to envy me!"

"Envy you! Envy a _weekly_ boarder!" sneered Laura, with a whole world of condescension in her voice. "My dear child, I think you really don't understand what you're talking about! After all, you've only been at Silverside two months!"

It is not a particularly pleasant matter to find the public opinion of your dormitory dead against you. You are apt to get awkward knocks in consequence. Avelyn put up with some very withering remarks that Tuesday evening, and consequently felt sore.

"They're absolute blighters to-day," she thought. "I wish I could play a rag on them! It would just serve them jolly well right!"