"Perhaps you'd like to give Miss Edith something on your own account,"

suggested Dilys craftily to the millionairess.

"Exactly. It would be far better than my joining with the rest of you,"

agreed Leonora, jumping at such an easy way out.

"Tell me what it's to be, then, and we'll ask Miss Lindsay to order it."

"Oh! I can get it myself, thanks."

"We're not allowed. All shopping has to be done through Miss Lindsay. I should suggest a book."

"I dare say that would do. There was one of yours that Miss Edith was looking at yesterday."

"Do you mean my small 'Christina Rossetti'? All right. Lennie, put down that Leonora Parker wants to order a copy of Christina Rossetti's poems."

Thus cornered, Leonora was obliged to consent. Dilys's little book was a shilling edition--not ruinous, certainly, to the purse strings; so comparing that with a subscription of half a crown she considered she had escaped cheaply.

"You've let her off too easily," grumbled Lennie afterwards, as she added up her list. "It's a shame the richest girl in the cla.s.s should give the least."

"I haven't finished with her yet, my friend--I've only begun!" chuckled Dilys. "Let me go to Miss Lindsay."

Dilys had a deep-laid scheme, which she considered too good to be divulged at present, but which she hoped would be the undoing of Leonora. She went to the mistresses' room with the subscription list, and handed the collection of half-crowns to Miss Lindsay.

"Would you please order a Russia leather blotter for Miss Edith?" she said. "We've decided on that, unless you know of anything she'd like better. Leonora Parker would like to give her a separate present, quite on her own account."

"Indeed?" said Miss Lindsay, who had not yet grasped the new pupil's economical tendencies. "Then I suppose she wishes it to be something handsome?"

"She mentioned a copy of Christina Rossetti's poems, but she said nothing about the price," returned Dilys stolidly.

"Christina Rossetti's poems? Then she must surely mean that beautiful ill.u.s.trated edition that we were talking about at tea-time yesterday. I remember Miss Edith said how immensely she would like to see it. No doubt Leonora made a mental note of it. It was a kind thought of hers, which Miss Edith will appreciate, I am sure."

"Is the edition expensive?" enquired Dilys casually.

"Fifteen shillings net, but of course to Leonora that is a mere nothing--no more than sixpence to most girls. Still, perhaps I'd better send for her and ask her."

"She's having her music lesson," put in Dilys quickly.

"The order ought to go off at once, if we are to have the presents in time for the 1st of March," said Miss Lindsay, glancing at the clock. "I must write now to catch the post. I think I may venture to send Leonora's commission without consulting her. She must certainly mean the ill.u.s.trated edition, and in her case we really need not trouble to consider the question of the price."

Dilys went away, rubbing her hands with satisfaction.

"Serves you right, Leonora Parker!" she chuckled to herself. "Your little effort at economy is going to cost you rather more than you bargained for. Miss Lindsay's an absolute trump. I hate mean people who h.o.a.rd up their money and keep it all for themselves."

She confided her success to the others, but exacted a promise of strict secrecy.

"We'll simply say Miss Lindsay has sent for the book," she advised. "I believe Leonora would be capable of countermanding the order if she knew the amount of the bill. It will be a surprise for her later on."

"And a ripping joke for us!"

"It's Miss Lindsay's fault, though. She named the edition."

"Oh, yes, of course! We understand that, my dear girl!"

The presents arrived by return of post, just in time for Miss Edith's birthday--a splendid blotter of delicious-smelling leather, and the edition of Christina Rossetti's poems, a large and handsome volume full of beautiful ill.u.s.trations. Miss Lindsay brought them into the Juniors'

sitting-room, and showed them to the delighted girls.

"It was so nice of you, Leonora dear, to think of giving such a lovely gift to Miss Edith all on your own account," she remarked; "so thoughtful to have fixed upon the very thing she wanted. You meant this edition, of course? I knew I could hardly be mistaken. Miss Edith will be particularly pleased that a new girl should show such appreciation.

The pictures are perfect gems. We'll wrap the book up again in its various papers, and you must hide it carefully away until to-morrow.

Would you like to give me the fifteen shillings now, or will Miss Poppleton stop it out of your allowance?"

Leonora's face was a study. Blank amazement struggled with disgust, and for a moment she seemed almost tempted to deny all responsibility for having given the order. Pride, however, at the sight of the sneer at the corners of Dilys Fenton's mouth, came to her rescue. She knew the girls had tricked her, and she was determined not to afford them the satisfaction of an open triumph.

"Thank you very much, Miss Lindsay, for getting the book," she replied calmly. "I'll give you the money now, please. I'm glad it's the edition Miss Edith wants," and taking her parcel, she sailed from the room, without deigning to glance at the others.

"Done her this time!" chuckled Dilys. "It'll do her good to sh.e.l.l out for once."

"She took it awfully well, though! Perhaps on the whole she wasn't altogether sorry. Miss Edie's such a dear, anyone would want to give her nice things who'd got the money," sighed Gipsy, whose own offering was limited to a little pen-and-ink drawing of the house.

"She's not so bad on the whole, though she isn't liberal in the way of sweets," remarked Daisy Scatcherd.

"You greedy pig!" said Dilys. "We don't want her to keep us provided with chocolates. As long as she's fair, that's all I care about. I think it's sickening to try and truckle to her because she's so rich. If you wanted to get anything out of her, I'm glad you were disappointed. 'Give and take' and 'Share and share alike' are the best mottoes for school."

"Thanks for the sermon!" said Daisy sarcastically.

"I don't care if you do call it preaching!" retorted Dilys. "When first Leonora came, some of you made such a ridiculous fuss over her, I was quite disgusted. A girl ought to be judged on her own merits, not by what her father's got. If she shows herself ready to take a fair part in everything, and be of some service to the school, then I'll approve of her, and not till then."

"Hear, hear!" cried Hetty Hanc.o.c.k.

CHAPTER XI

Gipsy turns Champion

EACH Form at Briarcroft had its own teacher, but in addition there were a certain number of visiting masters and mistresses who came out from Greyfield to give lessons at the school. A few were popular, some were tolerated, and one or two were cordially disliked. Among those who had the ill fortune to encounter strong opposition was Fraulein Hochmeyer, the singing mistress. She was a most conscientious teacher and a clever musician, but so intensely German in both accent and methods that she offended the British susceptibilities of her pupils, and inspired more ridicule than respect. Poor Fraulein meant so well, it was really very hard that her efforts did not meet with better results. She treated her cla.s.ses exactly as she would have dealt with similar ones in Germany; but what might have pleased apple-cheeked, pig-tailed Gretchens did not at all suit the taste of the Briarcroft-ites, particularly the members of the Lower School. They refused even to smile at her heavy Teutonic jokes, mocked her accent, rebelled at the numerous German songs they were expected to learn, whispered, giggled, and talked during the lesson, and generally made it extremely difficult for her to keep order. In vain she alternately pleaded, conciliated, fl.u.s.tered, fumed, and even threatened. The girls would not behave seriously, and though they did not deign to laugh at her attempts at humour, they treated her as a joke. As she was decidedly stout and rosy they nicknamed her "German Sausage", and made fun of her almost to her face.

A part of Fraulein Hochmeyer's system of voice production which her pupils much detested was learning the proper position of the mouth. It was of course a most important and necessary part of the lesson, but owing to the way it was enforced the silly girls turned it all into ridicule. Fraulein would stand upon the platform giving a practical demonstration to show how the lips must be well drawn back, revealing the teeth parted about the third of an inch, so as to offer no obstruction to the free pa.s.sage of the voice; and she would require her pupils to stand at attention with their mouths thus fixed before beginning the preliminary exercises.

"We look like a set of grinning imbeciles!" complained Lennie Chapman, "with Sausage for the arch-lunatic of us all. I wish to goodness we had a decent English teacher! I don't like these foreign ways."

"You'd like it still less if you were turned into a pattern pupil like me!" grumbled Gipsy. "I hate making an exhibition of myself."

Gipsy, being an apt copyist, was able to set her mouth at exactly the right angle, and in consequence her approving teacher would frequently beckon her on to the platform with the invitation:

"Dear friendt, com here and show ze ozers how you do open ze mouz."

The letters "th" were an impossibility to Fraulein's German tongue, and the girls giggled continually at the "z's" that replaced them. Gipsy was not at all proud of being forced to set an example to the cla.s.s, and would ascend the platform with an ill grace, and look the reverse of flattered at the encouraging pats that were bestowed upon her shoulders.