said Miss Buller, who seemed trying to check the talk that every now and then threatened to become too uproarious.

A fresh instalment of girls, who had arrived by a later train, and now joined the tea-table, claimed general attention, and the meal at length being over, the whole party trooped away to the play-room. It was a chilly evening, and I stood by the fire warming my hands, while I watched the various girls who were walking about arm in arm, or standing together in select little groups. They were most of them laughing and talking with much excitement, but the loudest and noisiest of them all was Ernestine Salt, who with a few choice spirits had taken possession of the table, where she sat dangling her legs and eating chocolate, the silver paper from which she made into small hard pellets, and fired at unsuspecting pa.s.sers-by, provoking shrieks of laughter from her companions. So amusing did she evidently find this occupation, that, the pellets being exhausted, she fished some walnut-sh.e.l.ls out of her pocket, and commenced a perfect onslaught on a neighbouring group of girls. They, however, did not take it so peaceably, for, suddenly seizing the table, they tilted it over, sending her ignominiously sprawling upon the floor, while, seating themselves in her vacant place, they announced their intention of holding the fort against all comers.

"I don't care!" said Ernestine, picking herself up, and moving away towards the fire. "It's horribly cold, and I was going to get warm anyhow. You can keep your old table, if you want. Here, get out of my way, you little animal!" and, pushing me rudely aside, she pulled a chair forward and seated herself in the very front of the cheerful blaze.

"I'm not an animal!" I said with some indignation, for I thought her manner most disagreeable, and I was determined to hold my own.

"Mineral, then, if you prefer it!" she returned, with a laugh.

I looked her up and down as coolly as she had surveyed me at the tea-table.

"I should think it is you who are the mineral, if your name is 'Salt',"

I said quietly. "I only wonder they didn't add 'pepper' when they were christening you!"

Her companions t.i.ttered.

"You've met your match, Ernestine?" declared one.

"Sharp little thing! Who is she?" whispered another.

"You won't put 'salt' on that bird's tail!" said a third, laughing at her own joke.

Ernestine looked as black as thunder, but for the moment she had no repartee ready, and she was saved from the necessity of a reply by the tinkle of a bell, and the voice of the head-girl, who announced that a general meeting of the various committees of the school sports and games was about to be held, at which everybody was requested to attend.

"I'm glad you stood up to Ernestine Salt," said Janet Forbes, who had been a silent listener. "But I'm afraid she'll hate you ever afterwards, and she can be uncommonly nasty when she likes. You'll be in for the cricket? We all have to play, whether we want to or not. I suppose you didn't bring a bat? The tennis-courts are reserved for the upper forms, but the fourth and fifth cla.s.ses are getting up a Badminton club, and I advise you to join that. I'll propose you for the archery, too, if you like; it's splendid fun when we have a tournament."

Lucy and I were only too ready to be included in anything that might be going on, and soon found ourselves duly elected members, not only of the Badminton and archery, but also of a croquet club and an athletic society, which was to practise various feats of skill for the annual sports.

"How are you getting on?" said Catherine Winstanley, making her way across the room to us from a quieter group of girls who seemed to have been having a private meeting apart from the others. "I'm glad you're joining all the games. Shall I propose you for the dramatic society? We always get up a piece at the end of the term. Mother told me how you were playing at carnival that time she saw you in London, and how well you had dressed up all your cousins, so I'm sure you must be fond of acting."

"I wish you would," I replied; "I should like to join immensely."

"Then let us go at once; they're just electing the members now. Janet, come here! I'm going to propose Philippa for the dramatic society. Will you second her?"

"Of course I will," answered Janet heartily; and they stepped across to the select committee, who were seated on the top of a long row of lockers at the end of the room.

"I beg to propose Philippa Seaton as an active member of this society,"

said Cathy, with a little business-like air.

"And I beg to second this proposal," added Janet, pulling me forward to show me to the committee. The president, a tall girl in spectacles, took out her note-book and a well-worn stump of pencil ready to record my name.

"The candidate has been duly proposed and seconded. Has any member any objection to raise?" she enquired.

"I veto the election!" said Ernestine Salt hastily, rising before anyone else had time to reply. "The candidate is a new girl; we don't know yet whether she can act, and we don't want to admit members who can't speak up, and who turn their backs upon the audience!"

"I can answer for it that she wouldn't do that," said Cathy, flushing rather indignantly.

"How do you know? Don't be absurd, Cathy Winstanley! We're not going to spoil the society to oblige you, or anybody else. Besides, ten members are quite enough if we want to give parts to each, and I, for one, sha'n't consent to any more being brought in."

The committee seemed inclined to take Ernestine's view of the matter, and, the bell ringing for prayers, the meeting broke up in confusion.

"I'm so sorry!" said Cathy, squeezing my hand as we went up the stairs together. "I'm sure you can act. I can see it in your face. They would certainly have elected you if it hadn't been for Ernestine. Never mind, you'll get your chance later, and then you must show them what you can do."

Lucy and I went to bed that night feeling as if it were years since we had left home, so much seemed to have happened already in the short time we had been at school.

"There are two things I'm quite certain of," I remarked, as we discussed the day's doings while we brushed and plaited our hair. "I shall dislike Ernestine Salt exceedingly, but I've simply fallen in love with Catherine Winstanley."

CHAPTER IV

THE HOLLIES

"I have had playmates, I have had companions, In my days of childhood, in my joyful school-days."

I was happy at school, though the work was hard and the discipline strict. When I try to recall our system of education, I think it must have been somewhat unique, for it was an endeavour to combine the very best points of a thoroughly modern course of study with the rigid rules and exemplary behaviour of a past generation. We learnt mathematics at The Hollies, but we curtsied to our teachers as we left the room; we had chemistry cla.s.ses in a well-fitted laboratory, but we were taught the most exquisite darning and the finest of open hem-st.i.tch; we played cricket, hockey, and all modern games, but we used backboards and were made to walk round the school-room balancing books upon our heads, to learn to hold ourselves erect; we had the best of professors for languages and literature, and we were taught to receive visitors graciously, to dispense afternoon tea, arrange flowers, and to write and answer invitations correctly.

It was the summer term. Each morning the great school bell roused us from our slumbers at half-past six, and woe to her who dared to turn over and go to sleep again! At a quarter-past seven we a.s.sembled in the hall, where rows of little blue mugs were waiting for us upon the table; then, under the escort of Miss Buller, we all turned out, weather permitting, to go and drink the waters for which Helston Spa was famous.

The brisk run through the fields, where the hawthorn was opening, and an occasional bird's nest might be found by those who were skilful enough to lag behind, was inspiriting as a beginning to the day. We always entreated for the stile path, and lamented when a wet night made Miss Buller declare the gra.s.s too damp, and necessitated a walk along the high-road, where we must file two and two--"in a crocodile," as Janet called it.

"Why a crocodile?" asked Lucy, who was not yet used to school-girl parlance.

"Oh, don't you know?" replied Janet. "Some terribly clever person, I can't remember whether it was Ruskin or Browning or Carlyle or who it was, said he would any day rather meet a crocodile than a ladies'

school, so a long row of girls has been called a crocodile ever since."

"It's a stupid old-fashioned custom," said Ellinor, who was generally disposed to grumble. "At St. Chad's the girls have bounds and may go where they please, three together. I hate to be paraded like a file of convicts. We look so foolish carrying our mugs, anyone would take us for a Sunday-school picnic."

Whether we came by field-path or road the well was quite a romantic spot when we reached it, for the water bubbled up in a clear spring from a rocky basin grown round with moss and shaded by ferns. As yet it had not been spoilt by having had a pavilion built over it, but was left in its natural condition, under the care of a homely old woman called Betty, who turned an honest penny by dispensing the waters to visitors, and who stood our school-girl banter with perfect good-humour.

"Good-morning, Mother Shipton! You haven't flown away on your broomstick yet?"

"My broom's too busy sweepin' floors, miss, to be used for anything else."

"What will you do when we've drunk up all the waters, Betty?"

"There's plenty more, miss, where this comes from, so I won't deny you another mugful if you're wantin' it."

"No, thank you, one is enough of such disgusting stuff! What I want now is something to take the taste out of my mouth."

Betty drove a brisk but illicit trade with us in toffee. She kept a basket concealed under her chair, in which was a species of mint-rock very dear to our souls. We were not supposed to be allowed to buy any such luxuries at The Hollies, but at this point of the proceedings Miss Buller would kindly turn her back and pretend to take a deep interest in the surrounding landscape, thinking perhaps that the nastiness of the waters deserved some recompense. In my own case, I am certain the combined flavours completely spoilt my breakfast. I was growing fast, and was inclined to be a little fastidious about my food. Mrs. Marshall held to the old-fashioned principle that we must finish everything that was put upon our plates; a trying rule for me, for, like many children, I had a horror of fat, and to have eaten it would, I think, almost have choked me. Very fortunately I sat at table next to a girl named Marion Burns, whose appet.i.te was large and indiscriminate. The portions which I viewed with dismay were to her insufficient, so I hit upon the happy expedient of slipping a part of my dinner each day upon her plate, and, like Jack Spratt and his wife, I was thus able to "leave the platter clean". Strange to say my little manoeuvre was never discovered, even by the watchful eyes of Miss Percy.

Miss Percy was Mrs. Marshall's right hand in all matters of discipline.

She was a lady of uncertain age, and even more uncertain temper; though, as Cathy said, "It's not uncertain, because you may be quite sure it's going to be disagreeable". She seemed to regard school-girls with perpetual suspicion, and to have a perfect genius for pouncing down upon us on the most inopportune occasions. Were we indiscreet enough to talk in bed, Miss Percy was sure to be pa.s.sing the door at the identical moment; were we late for prayers, hoping to scuffle in unnoticed among the servants, she was certain to be waiting for us in the hall. She had a very lynx eye for missing b.u.t.tons or untied shoe-laces, her long thin nose smelled out directly the chestnuts we endeavoured to roast by the school-room fire, and she could catch the lowest whisper in the preparation hour.

"I think she must have eyes in the back of her head, and second sight as well," said Janet, who was a frequent sufferer.

In spite of the strict rules I enjoyed my new life; the variety of the school work, the excitement of the games, and the companionship of so many girls of my own age, were far pleasanter to me than the quiet humdrum of our daily round at Aunt Agatha's.