"I—I've come to report myself," stammered Rhoda.
"What for?"
"For failing three times running in maths."
"Why, that's no business of ours."
"But I was told to come."
"Who sent you?" asked Lottie sharply.
"Your sister—and Beatrice Blair. They said it was the rule."
Lottie coloured with annoyance.
"I shall have to speak to Carrie," she remarked. "She has no right to rag new girls. It's a stupid custom, and must be stamped out of St. Cyprian's."
"We have no such rule, Rhoda," said Mildred gently. "It was too bad to send you on a false errand."
"Then I needn't come here again and report my failures?"
"Certainly not."
"Oh, thanks!" Rhoda's face had lightened with visible relief. "I'm afraid I interrupted you."
"I don't blame you. It wasn't your fault," returned Laura, closing the interview. "I advise you in future to be careful what you believe. Ask somebody whom you can trust, before you accept anyone's statements. You can go now, and please shut the door after you."
Half-term had come and gone, and November days were closing in fast. The date fixed for the Alliance Exhibition of Arts and Handicrafts was drawing near, and it behoved St. Cyprian's delegates to be making preparations for the event. Freda Kingston and Ivy Linthwaite had not let the grass grow under their feet, and since the re-opening in September had been quietly arranging what exhibits were most likely to do credit to the College, and setting apart certain girls to work at them. A wide choice had been given, for the "show" was to include not only drawings and paintings, but clay modelling, fretwork, carpentry, répoussé brasswork, stencilling, bookbinding, basket-making, embroidery, illuminating, bent iron-work, wood-carving, poker-work, photography, sweet-making, cookery, and in fact every variety of handicraft that might be submitted.
Naturally St. Cyprian's did not hold classes of instruction for all these branches, but some of the girls took private lessons at home, or tried experiments on their own account. Miss Whitlock, the drawing-mistress, was very anxious to cultivate an artistic spirit among her pupils, and had introducedmany new methods. She particularly endeavoured to encourage originality, condemning the old-fashioned course of "freehand, model, and cast" as likely to reduce all to one level of monotony. When she came as art mistress to St. Cyprian's she had astonished the girls by demanding from them a weekly portion of home work, and setting them a subject which they were to illustrate.
At first it had seemed to them an utter impossibility to draw "The Parting of Arthur and Guinevere", or "The Meeting of King John and his Barons", but with a little practice they were soon able to make the kind of design which Miss Whitlock required. She did not allow them to copy any picture outright, but they might take a horse from one, a knight from another, a lady from a third, and adapt them so as to make a fresh illustration. She knew that the skill of her pupils was not equal to evolving the figures for themselves, but she considered that in this way they would gain a far better knowledge of the requirements of composition than by a mere slavish reproduction of a drawing intact.
The girls found it quite interesting work, and as Miss Whitlock gave out the list of subjects for the whole term beforehand, they would amuse themselves in their leisure hours by searching through art books for suitable figures to act as the Lady of Shalott, Robin Hood, King Cophetua, Flora Macdonald, Lord Marmion, or other heroes and heroines of romance. Naturally many of the results were not remarkably talented, but Miss Whitlock considered that they had served their purpose by training the judgment, and that with practice wouldcome an increased facility both in the drawing and the general arrangement of the designs.
The sketches were not confined either to any particular size or special medium—they might be executed in pencil, pen and ink, chalks, pastels, or water-colours, according to individual taste; and this latitude gave a much wider scope to the work. Freda Kingston, who loved to try new departures, had hit upon quite an original method of her own, which she pursued at home. She pinned large sheets of cartoon paper upon the wall, then, placing a strong lamp in a suitable position, would persuade one of her brothers or sisters to stand in the attitude she required, so as to throw a shadow upon the paper. She would carefully outline this, and afterwards reduce the life-size drawing to more manageable proportions. In this way she was able to get some very striking poses, which held all the freshness of the living model. She did not attempt to elaborate them too much, but would lay on flat washes of body colour, and finish with a bold outline, so that in style they much resembled advertisement posters.
It was quite a little weekly excitement for the art class to pin up these home studies in the studio, and see all the widely differing representations which had been made of the same subject. Miss Whitlock would criticize them, and class them according to ability, giving many helpful hints and suggestions for future improvement.
The lessons themselves were made as varied as possible. One day it would be the drawing of objects in a given time; on another it would be memory sketching. Sometimes only a singleoutline was required, and on other occasions great detail would be demanded, so that nobody had the chance of getting into a groove and cultivating only one style of expression.
Though Miss Whitlock had little time to teach the girls handicrafts, she would criticize what work they brought to school to show her, and give any hints she could on the subject, leaving them to try experiments at home. By recommending tools, manuals of instruction, and suitable materials she was able to give substantial help, and would often start a girl on a new hobby, and by judicious aid, if she got into a difficulty, tide her over the initial stages till she was able to make progress on her own account. There is always something infectious in enthusiasm, and Miss Whitlock's genuine love of her subject made her students very keen in carrying out all her ideas. One or two of them were really clever, and the general average improved quickly under her system of tuition, the imaginative girls especially finding scope for their particular talents.
With this foundation of art training to work upon, St. Cyprian's considered it ought to make as good a show as any of the other schools in the Alliance. Six members were chosen for a committee, and a very businesslike meeting was convened in the studio. Freda, as principal delegate, took the chair, and Ivy Linthwaite, as second delegate, occupied the position of secretary.
"What we've got to do," said Freda, "is to find out any individual talent in the school, and push it for all we're worth. I think we'd best each make out a list of those who, we consider, ought to do certain things, and then keep them as our specialprotégées. There are lots of girls who'll begin a thing, go on a little way, and then get tired of it, or be discouraged and throw it up. These are the ones we must look after. They need constantly urging on, and keeping up to the mark. Has anybody any particular person to suggest, whom she thinks likely to do anything outstanding?"
"I believe Rhoda Somerville has rather original ideas," said Nina Campion. "She was telling me about a model of a cottage which she had made at home. It sounded most ingenious."
"Then take Rhoda as your protégée, and see that she makes something equally good."
"I have my eye on Nancy Rostron," said Eleanor Duncan, "but I'd rather not say in what particular line till I've discussed the matter with her."
"Meg Croisdale's the girl for me!" declared Pauline Middleton. "Her illuminations are beautiful!"
"And I have a scheme on hand with Gertrude Spencer," announced Aveline Wilson.
"I book Cissie Milne," said Ivy Linthwaite; "we've been working together for a fortnight."
"Well, if we each have a protégée, with what we're going to do ourselves, that will make at least twelve principal contributors. I dare say we'll soon fill the one table we're to be allowed for special exhibits," said Freda. "It won't do to crowd things up too much; better have a fair amount of space, so as to show them up well."
"I rather believe twelve is the limit allowed for table exhibits," said Ivy, consulting a note-book. "Yes, that is what we arranged at the General Committee."
"Good! Then we'll soon fix that up."
As the room where the united exhibition was to be held had only limited accommodation, and the Alliance was conducted on lines of strictest fairness and equality, a certain number of feet of wall space and one table were apportioned to each school, so they were obliged to confine the number of their exhibits within specified bounds. The conditions applied equally to all, so there was no particular hardship; it was merely a question of elimination, and making the very wisest choice among the many and varied crafts from which they had to select. Freda considered that anything out of the common, and original, would probably attract the judge's attention, and also that a diversity of objects would be likely to form the most interesting table. She herself was very busy making a beautiful set of illustrations to Hans Andersen's "Goose Girl". She spared no trouble, printing the text of the story in an exquisitely neat hand, so that the little book should be perfect, and completing it with a most artistic cover. Quite early in the term she had fired her friend Natalie Masters with an enthusiasm for illustrating. Natalie could not draw well, but she was decidedly clever with the camera, and she resolved to make a series of photographic views depicting scenes from "The Babes in the Wood". She prepared for her work by arranging costumes for her two little sisters, who were to represent the babes, and for two brothers whom she induced to act as either father, wicked uncle, or ruffians, as the case might be.
The Masters possessed a country cottage in a very beautiful neighbourhood, and the wholefamily went there for the half-term holiday, so that Natalie was able to get backgrounds for her photographs which she could not have obtained in Kirkton. She posed her models partly in the lovely autumn woods, partly in an old castle, and, for the more domestic scenes, in an ancient farmhouse that was provided with antique furniture, and therefore made an excellent fourteenth-century setting for her figures. The results were mostly very good; allowing for a few failures, where she had miscalculated the exposures, or the light had been insufficient, she got a sufficient number of negatives to be able to select a dozen as satisfactory, and with the aid of a little retouching made a series of beautifully soft sepia prints. These were mounted, three together, on long brown cards, and had a most harmonious and artistic effect. Her models had been excellent, the little sister who was dressed as the boy looking particularly charming in the wood scene, where the two babes were standing among the tall bracken, reaching up to gather the blackberries growing overhead. The last scene of all was a triumph, for by the bait of some tempting crumbs laid upon the leaves, Natalie had been able to take a snapshot of a pair of robins that ventured within a few feet of the two little figures lying clasped in each other's arms under a bramble bush. She felt that in this photograph she had almost rivalled the achievements of Mr. Kearton or Mr. Seton-Thompson, and that she might some day turn her attention to producing a volume of "Wild Nature in the Camera", or some equally ambitious project.
Ivy Linthwaite and her protégée Cissie Milnewere concentrating their energies on wood-carving. Ivy had had a course of lessons the previous winter, and had grown sufficiently accustomed to her tools to be able to undertake quite an elaborate piece of work with deep undercutting; but Cissie, who was a beginner under Ivy's tuition, contented herself with doing a lightly-chipped picture-frame.
Nina Campion was busy with a beautiful set of flower paintings in water-colours. Some were done at school under Miss Whitlock's superintendence and some at home, but to both she gave equal care and her very best endeavours.
Rhoda Somerville, when questioned by Nina as to her capacity for making a model as an exhibit, was at first rather dismayed by the project, but on thinking it over she began to see her way more clearly, and consented to undertake the task. She decided that she would try to construct a miniature edition of Castleford Church. She had the whole outline of it in her mind's eye, as well as possessing photographs which would help if her memory failed. She set about it very systematically. First, she begged an old drawing-board from the studio to act as stand. Then out of stiff cardboard she fashioned the model church, cutting out spaces for the windows and covering them with coloured gelatine paper to represent stained glass. When roof, tower, and walls were all neatly fixed together, she put a thin coating of glue over all, and dusted it well with sand, which made a really excellent imitation of the yellowish stone of which Castleford was built. With the aid of a paint-brush she made the traceries round the windows and some attempt at gargoyleson the tower, and reproduced the dark oak of the heavy door, studded with iron nails. The churchyard next claimed her attention. She mixed a quantity of plaster of Paris, and put it down all round the church, which cemented the model firmly to the board that she had used for a stand, and also gave the effect of uneven ground. She smoothed down the path, and while the plaster was still wet, stuck in little pieces of sanded cardboard for grave-stones, and small twigs of yew to represent the ancient gnarled trees that surrounded the chancel. A coat of green paint, applied to the cement when dry, was supplemented by some beautiful moss, which her mother sent her from the woods at home, and which gave a finishing touch to the whole. The little model was really extremely pretty when all was completed, and such an exact copy in miniature of Castleford Church that Mildred declared she could almost imagine that she heard the organ inside it.
The progress of Rhoda's work had been a subject of intense interest to many of the girls, who had watched it stage by stage from its first rough commencement, and they were agreed that it would be one of the most uncommon exhibits on their special table, if not in the whole of the show.
Mildred, who felt responsible for Rhoda at St. Cyprian's, was glad to find that her friend could make so important a contribution to the Alliance. She realized that any success in the exhibition would be a great point in Rhoda's favour, and likely largely to increase her popularity in the school. Rhoda herself had taken keen pleasure in her construction, independently of its value asan exhibit. Her deft hands enjoyed making things, and her thoughts had all the time been centred at Castleford. She was too happy at St. Cyprian's to be home-sick; nevertheless she missed the Vicarage, and anything which reminded her of it was a doubly-welcome pastime.
Meanwhile the other members of the committee and their protégées were also busily occupied. Pauline Middleton, whose bent was towards figures, had finished a very clever pair of heads executed in pastels, quite the best work she had so far accomplished at school, and a subject of much satisfaction to Miss Whitlock. Meg Croisdale, whose hobby was illumination, had copied a page from an old missal upon a sheet of vellum, and had thoroughly enjoyed herself amongst the quaint Celtic spirals and twists of the capitals, and the strange little animals and figures which composed the interlaced border. She had laid on the bright colours and the gold-paint with a steady hand, marvelling only at the patience of the monks of old who could complete a whole book, one single leaf of which it had cost her so much time and attention to reproduce.
Aveline Wilson and Gertrude Spencer had gone in for pyrography, and shared a poker-work apparatus between them, which they took it in turns to use, the one who was not manipulating it standing near and blowing gentle puffs with a pair of bellows to prevent the smoke from the burnt wood from rising into the face of the worker, a division of labour greatly appreciated after an experience of smarting eyes produced by the fumes. Aveline finished a large photograph frame with a tastefuldesign of irises, and Gertrude decorated a little corner cupboard with a conventional pattern copied from a piece of antique furniture. Eleanor Duncan concentrated all her energies on an oil-painting of still-life which she did in the school studio, partly during lesson hour and partly during her recreation time. It represented several Venetian jars, with a piece of silk drapery as a background, and a few flowers flung carelessly across the foreground in company with a nautilus shell and a string of beads. The whole made a beautiful harmony of colour, and Miss Whitlock was more than satisfied with the result.
Nancy Rostron had made a complete departure in her exhibit. She had chosen to dress a dozen small dolls as representatives of various European nations, and had made each tiny costume with the greatest elaboration, carrying out every detail with a considerable amount of skill. When finished, the dolls were wired, and placed in a circle round a stand, so that each might equally show its points and claim the judge's attention. With Rhoda's model church, this was perhaps one of the prime favourites among the exhibits, for though it could not claim the artistic merit of some, it certainly possessed the charm of novelty.
The girls had given a great deal of trouble, and had devoted many hours of their spare time to these preparations, and all looked forward eagerly to the day of the "Show". By the kindness of the Mayor, a room in the Exchange Assembly Hall had been lent to the Alliance for the occasion. A small admission fee was to be charged, and the proceeds were to be sent to the Kirkton Guild ofPlay, an institution for brightening the lives of the children of the slums. Everybody was pleased with this loan of a room. It put the various schools upon a more equal footing than if the exhibition had been held in one of their own buildings; and the Exchange Assembly Hall was situated in a very central position in the city, easy of access by tram for all the suburbs.
The premises were only available for one day, so the exhibits had to be taken down and arranged during the morning, to be in time for the opening at half-past two. The six members of St. Cyprian's Art Committee were granted a special holiday for the purpose, and a private omnibus was engaged in which to convey them and the various treasures in their charge to the hall. Through Nina Campion's care, Rhoda's model church reached its destination without the displacement of even a tomb-stone, and Eleanor Duncan took equal precautions to preserve Nancy Rostron's set of dolls from injury. Miss Webster, the art mistress from the High School, was in charge of the room, and showed the St. Cyprian's delegates which wall space and table had been allotted to them. They had brought hammer and tacks and other requisites, so they at once set to work. They placed Eleanor's large oil-painting (which she had had framed) as a centre piece of their portion of wall, with Pauline's pastel heads (also framed) on either side. Nina's flower paintings and Natalie's photographic views were accorded the next post of honour, and then all spare space was filled with selections of the best studio work that had been done during the term. The table was certainly not any too large for thetwelve exhibits that were to appear upon it. The church and the dolls, being the largest, were placed in the middle, and the other specimens ranged round. Various members of the art class had sent in picked contributions, so there was a good display of carving, poker-work, wood-staining, illuminating, and designs for illustration.
There was no time to compile a catalogue of the "Show", but each exhibit bore a small label with the name of the contributor and her school, and in addition each table and separate wall space was surmounted by a large card bearing the name of its school. The committees did their work thoroughly, and by twelve o'clock the whole room was in order, and ready for the inspection of Mr. Baincroft, the artist who had promised to act as judge.
During the course of the afternoon a very large number of girls from the various schools, together with parents and friends, visited the exhibition. Mrs. Graham accompanied Mildred, for she was anxious to see the St. Cyprian's department, and particularly Rhoda's model church, of which she had heard much.
There were to be no prizes, for the headmistresses of the six schools had agreed that it would be better for the Alliance to work without any definite rewards, but "Honourable Mention" was to be given to the best exhibits, and any of outstanding merit were to be "Specially Commended".
At the door of the hall, Rhoda, who was arriving with the rest of the boarders, in charge of a mistress, happened to meet Mildred and her aunt.Miss Rowe readily allowed her to join her friends, so she entered the room under Mrs. Graham's escort.
"I can't look at a single thing till I've seen St. Cyprian's table, so let's go there first, please!" declared Mildred, avoiding the attractions of Newington Green on the one hand and Marston Grove on the other, and urging her companions forward. "Oh, here we are! There's the church, Tantie! Isn't it lovely? Oh, Rhoda! It has actually got 'Specially Commended'! I'm so glad; it thoroughly deserved that! What a point for St. Cyprian's! Has anybody else had such luck?"
Freda's illustrations to "The Goose Girl", one of Pauline's pastel heads, and Aveline's poker-work had won "Honourable Mention", so that St. Cyprian's had four honours to its credit, which was as much as any of the other schools had gained. The judge had only given tickets of commendation to exhibits which he considered of quite unusual merit or originality, but he had written a short report, highly praising the general excellence of the work submitted. When Mildred and Rhoda had finished rejoicing over the St. Cyprian's successes, and had shown Mrs. Graham each several contribution to their own portion, they turned their attention to the departments of other schools. It was interesting to see the various hobbies which had been pursued. Templeton girls had evidently been going in for fretwork, while the High School had made a speciality of stencilling and bent-iron work. Some of the Anglo-German girls had sent exquisite specimens of embroidery and drawn-thread work, and also bore off the palm for cake-bakingand sweet-making, a branch which St. Cyprian's had not attempted. Marston Grove excelled in clay-modelling and repoussé brasswork, while Newington Green had produced very excellent results in carpentry, basket-weaving, and bookbinding.
The virtue of the little exhibition was that it gave the girls an opportunity of seeing what was being done by other schools, and supplied them with many hints for future work. Several St. Cyprianites went home resolved to learn bookbinding, while Freda's illustrations were pointed out by the Templeton art mistress to her pupils as something which they might try to emulate. All the various members of the Alliance met on a very friendly footing, and heartily admired each other's exhibits, so perhaps no other department of their mutual league could be regarded as a greater success.
"Well done the Arts and Handicrafts!" said Freda, as she helped to clear St. Cyprian's table after closing time. "It's been an absolutely ripping afternoon, and do you know we've taken twenty pounds in admissions? The Guild of Play ought to bless us!"
"Everyone's enjoyed it," agreed Ivy. "And we've all worked together so amicably, that's the best of it. This 'Show' ought to become an annual affair. It's quite an institution, and if next year we might have it in a larger room, we'd—well, we'd——"
"Astonish the world of Kirkton!" laughed Freda.
The autumn term was drawing rapidly to a close and Christmas was near at hand. The Literary branch of the Alliance had been particularly active in preparing a number of the united Magazine, which was now at the printer's, and was to be issued shortly before breaking-up day. The six editresses who were responsible for its production had not found their task a light one. The expense of printing had limited them to one hundred pages, so many of their original plans had had to be curtailed. After much consultation it was decided to allow each school fifteen pages and two illustrations, either in line, or half-tone, the spaces for which must be included in their portion. The remaining ten pages of the magazine were to contain a leading article on the Alliance, and special news, such as reports of the Eisteddfod and Exhibition, results of cricket and hockey matches since last Easter, the work of the various leagues and guilds, and announcements for the forthcoming season.
Rachel Hutton, the head girl of the High School, was voted general editress, and appointed to write the leader and the various reports, while each sub-editress was responsible for the portion allotted toher school. The work did not sound very formidable, but when Laura Kirby, as editress for St. Cyprian's, began to get her material together she realized some of the thorns which beset the journalistic path. Fifteen pages of print seemed a small allowance, and very limiting to the powers of her contributors. She could almost have filled it on her own account. She wished all the best talent of the school to be represented, and tried to map out her space accordingly. It was most difficult, however, to keep her literary stars within due bounds. Nora Farrar, the generally acknowledged poet laureate of the College, had been put down for a short poem of twelve lines, calculated exactly to fill half a page; but when she handed in her manuscript the dismayed editress found that it contained no less than seven verses.
"You'll have to cut some of it out," she suggested.
"Cut it short! Impossible! Why, it would spoil it entirely," protested the poetess indignantly. "Can't some of the others shorten their things instead?"
"No, indeed! They'd prefer to lengthen them."
"Well, look here, it will ruin my piece utterly if I have to chop out the middle half of it."
"I'm very sorry, but it's got to be done, unless you'd rather write another poem."
Laura found that every contributor committed the same mistake, and each manuscript was apt to overflow its due number of words. The distracted editress had to be very stern in marking out passages which she considered were not strictly necessary, and insisting upon their omission. Itwas so hard to persuade the budding authoresses that this matter of space was one of real importance, and that they must not exceed their allowance even by a single paragraph. Many were the grumbles and protests, and as Laura was unfortunately not blessed with too large a share of tact, the making of the magazine proved a rather stormy business. The illustrations were another source of difficulty. Freda Kingston brought a very pretty pen-and-ink sketch, over which she had spent much time and trouble. She had drawn it the exact size it was to appear in the magazine, and was highly annoyed when she was informed that all drawings meant for reproduction must be on a scale half as large again as they would eventually be printed, as they were minimized in the process of making the blocks.
"I shall actually have to do it over again! Why didn't you tell me before, and save me all this trouble?" she asked plaintively.
"I didn't know myself," groaned Laura. "I've only just found out how illustrations are printed. By the by, you'll have to make all your lines thicker, too, because those will be thinned down when it's diminished."
"I hope they won't spoil my sketch at the printing works, I want to keep it afterwards."
"You'll probably get it back adorned with the impress of the compositor's thumb in black ink! It'll be a chance for you if you want to acquire skill in reading finger-marks, but it won't be an improvement to your design, so you'd best prepare yourself for the worst."
In spite of all these minor troubles Laura managed in the end to arrange her fifteen pagessatisfactorily, and sent them off in triumph to the general editress by the appointed day. The printer faithfully fulfilled his part of the bargain, and delivered the copies in good time, so that the magazines were ready for subscribers at the beginning of the last week of the term. It had been impossible to afford anything very grand in the way of a cover, so they had contented themselves with the titleThe Alliance Journal, and the motto "Unitas superabit", which had been chosen as the watchword of the League. Rachel Hutton had written a really capital leading article as an introduction, and had contrived to express a large number of ideas and suggestions in an extremely small space. Each of the separate schools had contributed highly readable matter, and of a very varied character, so that sonnets, lyrics, and parodies, essays, detective stories, adventures, Nature notes, historic dialogues, reminiscences of country rambles, recitations, serious and comic, humorous episodes, and school titbits all found due place.
General opinion voted the magazine "ripping", and the editresses had the proud consciousness of having for once given entire satisfaction to their reading public, a distinction which editors in the real world of journalism might well envy them.
The supreme attraction of the last week of the term was the united dramatic performance that was to be given in aid of the Children's Hospital. It had been no easy matter to find any piece in which six schools could be represented without giving undue prominence to one or other; but the Twelfth Night revels which had been chosen happily allowed such a wide scope that each wasable to undertake a separate department of equal importance. The play was a general combination of a number of old mediaeval festivities, and though it might be somewhat irregular to mingle them, the whole made an excellent entertainment. They were supposed to be acted on Twelfth Night, but as that date would fall during the holidays, it was considered no anomaly to anticipate it, and the event had been fixed for 20th December.
All the schools had been busy practising their parts, and none had worked harder than St. Cyprian's. The special portion of the performance which they had undertaken was the entrance of the King and Queen with their Court, and their enthronement amid due rejoicings. The speeches to be learnt were only short, but there was a very elaborate ceremonial to be observed, a dance to be executed by courtiers, and two part-songs to be sung, therefore many rehearsals were needed before it was perfected. Lottie was indefatigable. She drilled the chorus, trained the dancers, coached the speakers, arranged the costumes, and during rehearsals, at any rate, was sometimes stage-manager, pianist, prompter, dancing mistress, Lord Chamberlain, and principal boy, all combined. She herself was to act King, and Rose Percival, a very pretty girl fromIVaForm, had been chosen as the Queen.
Mildred's orchestra was to play during the whole entertainment, so they learnt the music for the songs, dances, and processions of all the schools, also the opening and closing marches. Erica Newstead, Tessie von Steinberg, and Althea Ledbury, the girls respectively from Templeton, theAnglo-German and Newington Green, proved valuable additions, and with their help the little band really sounded quite effective. Elizabeth Chalmers's zealous conductorship had trained them to play in good time, exactly together, and in excellent tune; and if they could not attain to rivalling Professor Hoffmann's Students' Orchestra, they were at least a very welcome augmentation to the musical portion of the performance.
Mildred keenly enjoyed the rehearsals. It is always gratifying when one's pet scheme turns out well, and as she had taken much trouble in arranging the scores, she felt a pardonable pride in the success of her work. She loved the music for its own sake, but she was also very public-spirited, both on behalf of St. Cyprian's and the Alliance, and glad to contribute her share for the common weal. The charity to which the proceeds were to be sent was one that appealed to the schools. The Kirkton Children's Hospital was a new institution that had only lately been opened. Many of the girls had been taken to see it, had walked through the bright sunny wards, and had noticed the little patients wearing the red-flannel jackets that had been provided by their United Needlecraft Guild. To help to raise funds to keep the cots occupied was an object worth working for, and justified the original intention of the Alliance to be not only an institution for mutual improvement, but to render real aid to their poorer sisters in Kirkton.
The revels were to be held in the Kirkton Assembly Hall, though in a much larger room than that devoted to the Art Exhibition. Tickets had been sent to the various schools, and had sold sowell that a good audience was assured beforehand. The Mayoress of Kirkton was to be present, and to bring her children, and several other prominent citizens had also promised their support. As it was essentially a children's entertainment it was decided to hold it in the afternoon, which would greatly simplify the difficulty of arranging for the safe home-going of the performers when it was over.
Twenty girls from St. Cyprian's were to take part, not counting the orchestra, and these were the heroines of the hour at the College. Their dress rehearsal was viewed and approved by a school audience, and the deepest interest taken in their costumes. Many of the details of these were lent for the occasion. There had been dramatic entertainments before at St. Cyprian's, so some of the ex-performers had various properties laid by at home, which proved of valuable assistance to the general effect. Clare Verrall, who had once been the ambassador in "Cinderella", was able to lend her gorgeous trumpet with its silken hangings to Agnes White, who was to act herald. Bess Harrison, who years ago had been one of the "Princes in the Tower", was delighted to find that her velvet doublet and silken hose would exactly fit Lucy Stearne, who made a pretty page. Freda Kingston's artistic skill was requisitioned to provide crowns for the King and Queen, and with cardboard, gilt paper, and cracker jewels she manufactured quite a magnificent regalia. Ivy Linthwaite prepared the Elizabethan ruffs of the courtiers, and stencilled heraldic devices on various banners which were to be used; and as many othergirls were ready to contribute beads, knots of ribbon, paste shoe buckles, ornaments for the hair, lace ruffles, and other accessories useful in stage toilets, St. Cyprian's congratulated itself that it would be able to make a brave show.
The six companies of performers went early to the Exchange Assembly Hall, each school in charge of a mistress. The arrangements had been well made, so that there was no confusion over the dressing, though much fun went on behind the scenes. The members of the Alliance had met so often for various functions that they began to know one another, and to exchange greetings almost like old friends. Though each was a stanch supporter of her own school, they were always ready to combine for a general object, and drop any rivalries for the moment. So St. Cyprian's and Templeton girls might be seen chatting about hockey, and Newington Green discussing the magazine with the Anglo-German, and a generalentente cordialereigned supreme.
The members of the orchestra had come in white dresses, and gave quite a festive appearance to the room as they took their places and commenced the overture. Templeton was first on the programme, and opened the proceedings with a procession. Their players were dressed as boys and girls in Old English costume, the former in smock-frocks, large felt hats adorned with bunches of cowslips, and knees tied with knots of gay ribbons; the latter in low-cut dresses, muslin cross-overs, mob-caps and mittens, so that the whole looked exactly as if they had stepped out of a Kate Greenaway picture-book. To celebrate the season they sang a Christmascarol, and then proceeded to give a charming and elaborate exhibition of morris-dancing. They had been carefully drilled, and went through the most intricate steps without a hitch, waving their sprigs of holly, coloured handkerchiefs, or ribbon-tipped wands, according to the requirements of the measure. They sang well, and rendered all their choruses crisply and in exact accordance with the actions of the dances. With the orchestra to augment the music the effect was most gay, and gave a vivid impression of the Merrie England of former days.
Templeton was succeeded by Newington Green, which had taken up a totally different line. It had concentrated its energies on its younger members, and its first item was a dance of fairies and elves by small girls of nine or ten years of age. They had been selected with a view to their appearance. The fairies were all blue-eyed and fair-haired, and in their thin gauzy robes looked true gossamer sprites, as light as air. Their little feet tripped about as if scarcely touching the stage, and they left a general impression among the audience that they were of such sylph-like and ethereal composition that it was almost possible to see through them. Their partners, the elves, were all brunettes, and wore pale-green tights and helmets made to represent big bluebells. Both they and their sister fairies carried long garlands of flowers, which they used in the performance of their dance, now holding them aloft, now waving them to and fro, and now joining them in a floral chain to link the sprites together. The songs chosen were: "The Fairy Pipers", and "The Horns of Elfland", and Mildred had contrived so admirably to arrange themelodies with pizzicato passages on the violins that the ring of the little magic pipes and horns was unmistakable, and the audience listened almost spellbound to the fairy music.
When the pretty scene was over, it was rivalled by another of equal interest. As the fairies and elves danced off the stage, a troupe of butterflies flitted on instead. Their costumes had been prepared by the Newington Green art mistress and her best pupils. They were of thin butter muslin, made extremely full from the neck, and with a thin piece of bamboo stitched down the length of the skirt under each arm. When these bamboos were seized at the bottom, and raised above the level of the head, the skirt extended so as to give an exact impression of wings. All the dresses had been painted with the characteristic markings of certain butterflies, and as their owners gently waved them about, it seemed as if Fritillaries, Tortoiseshells, Purple Emperors, Swallow-tails, Camberwell Beauties, Painted Ladies, Red Admirals, and Peacocks were holding carnival together upon the stage. They danced a charming measure, twisting and turning so as to display the splendour of their wings, and winding in and out as if flitting about among the flowers. Each girl had a helmet contrived to represent a butterfly's head, with long antennæ and large round eyes, which further enhanced the insect effect, and wore long brown stockings drawn over sandals, giving a far more characteristic effect than shoes. The music was dainty and appropriate, and after responding to a vigorous encore, the butterflies flitted away, having covered Newington Green with glory.
It was now the turn of St. Cyprian's. Their chief feature was the grandeur of their procession, so an opening march announced their advent. They filed on to the stage with slow and stately steps, in all the pomp and majesty which they had been able to get together. First came the heralds, magnificent creatures in silk and velvet, holding long trumpets from which hung emblazoned banners; then my Lord Chamberlain, in flowered robe and long cloak, bearing his wand of office, and ushering in with much ceremony the King and Queen. Lottie really looked very fine in her gold-embroidered doublet, crimson cloak, long silk stockings, and magnificent crown; and Rose Percival, in pearl-trimmed white satin, with a mock-diamond necklace, her long flaxen hair arranged to fall over her shoulders below her waist, and her pretty face surmounted by her tiara, was regal enough to rival the monarchs of story-book fame. Their Court was not behind in gorgeousness. The gentlemen-in-waiting looked true cavaliers with their curled lovelocks, lace ruffles, and plumed hats, and the ladies outvied them in the gayness of their colours and the elaboration of their ruffs.
In this part of the revels there were a few speeches; the King and Queen were enthroned, songs were sung, and an old-fashioned dance was performed by the courtiers, such as might have taken place at some pageant of the fifteenth century. At its conclusion, instead of retiring from the platform, the royalties kept their thrones, and their maids of honour and gentlemen-in-waiting grouped themselves picturesquely on either side. They were to act stage audience for the mummers who came toplay before the Court. This important department of the entertainment had been undertaken by the High School, which had risen nobly to the occasion. First came St. George of England, St. Andrew of Scotland, St. Patrick of Ireland, and St. David of Wales, all arrayed as knights in armour and all mounted on hobby-horses. They wore surcoats emblazoned with their countries' coats of arms, and carried pikes and shields; and with the permission of the King and Queen they engaged in a spirited tournament, making their hobbies prance about with fiery zeal, and dealing resounding blows on their pasteboard armour. But their internal rivalries were soon put an end to by the entrance of a common enemy—a huge and terrific green dragon, a scaly monster with horrible jaws and businesslike talons with which it suggestively clawed the air. It immediately made for its opponents, and there followed a grand scene of dodging, scuffling, and pursuing before the fabulous beast was finally subdued and bound in chains.
A jester in motley costume, with hood and bauble, was a special feature of the mummers, and provided immense fun as he made his jokes and plied his comic antics upon the other characters, belabouring John Bull with his bladder, rallying the doctor on the virtues of his pills, and tripping up the constable with the easy mirth of the clown in an old-fashioned pantomime. Quite out of breath with their violent exertions, the various champions ranged themselves on the steps of the throne, to give the audience the pleasure of beholding them during the performance of the next item on the programme.
Marston Grove School was in no way behind the others. To make a variety, it had provided a series of "Songs in Character", mostly chosen from nursery rhymes. "Where are you going to, my pretty maid?" was acted with lifelike coyness by a charming country wench swinging her milk can; Jack and Jill came together, bearing their pail between them; little Miss Muffet fled in a panic from the onslaught of a gigantic spider; six pretty innocents danced round a mulberry bush; Bo-Peep lamented the loss of her sheep; and Wee Willie Winkie stole about in his night-gown, blowing sand into the eyes of his companions. The costumes were charming, and each little scene was perfect in itself.
The Anglo-German, the last on the programme, had arranged a totally different display as a final effect. A large grandfather's clock stood at the back of the platform, and had before appeared only a part of the stage scenery. The space in front of this was now cleared, and after an appropriate speech from the King, and a song from the mummers, all waited with close attention while the chimes rang out and the hour was tolled. As the last stroke died away, the door of the clock-case opened, and out trooped, one after another, a procession of wonderful personages. First came old Father Time, with scythe and hour-glass, and behind him the months of the year, from snowy January to rosy June, corn-crowned October and holly-decked December. Then followed many a well-known nursery character—Little Red Riding Hood, Puss in Boots, Bluebeard, Aladdin, Hop o' my Thumb, the Three Bears, Cinderella, Jack theGiant Killer, Beauty and the Beast, Catskin, the Snow Queen, Rumpelstiltskin, Robinson Crusoe, Dick Whittington, and Goody Two-Shoes.
Ranging themselves at the front of the stage, they performed a pretty series of German action-songs, very appropriate to the season, and ending in compliments to the audience. As a climax to the whole, Father Christmas made his appearance, bearing in his arms the New Year (a darling three-year-old baby, borrowed for the occasion), and in a little speech thanked everybody for coming to the performance, and gave hearty good wishes to all for the coming holidays. With one final parade round the stage the pageant retired. For the last time the butterflies flitted, the fairies tripped, the dragon roared, and the jester swung his bladder; then amid a storm of clapping and cheering, headed by Father Time and with Father Christmas at the rear, the long procession wound itself off the platform and behind the scenes, to the accompaniment of sprightly music from the band.
"Your orchestra really was a great addition, Mildred," said Mrs. Graham that evening. "It kept everybody together, and made the whole affair sound most gay."
"I'm glad you say so! I think it was worth the trouble. We had a glorious afternoon, and every one of the six schools enjoyed it equally," said Mildred. "Do you know what we did in the dressing-room afterwards? We all joined hands in one big circle and sang 'Auld lang syne', and shouted 'Hip, hip, hip, hooray!' for the Alliance."
After a strenuous term, everybody welcomed the leisure of the holidays. It was a relief not to have to think even of art exhibitions and dramatic performances. For a whole month the monitresses would not need to pounce on Third Form sinners, or write black entries of the misdeeds of certain rebels inIVb. Essay writing gave place to the addressing of Christmas cards, mathematics retired in favour of shopping, and text-books were set aside to make way for magazines. Mildred luxuriated in a thoroughly well-earned rest. Beyond a short daily practice on her violin, nothing was required from her, and she congratulated herself that she was so much more fortunate than Laura Kirby and some other girls who were destined for the matriculation, and who were having special vacation coaching. Mildred, never very robust, felt a reaction follow the strain of so many weeks' hard work, and it was chiefly on account of her white cheeks that her aunt allowed her to accept an invitation which arrived on Christmas morning.
This was from Rhoda Somerville, asking her to spend a week at the Vicarage, and promising the very utmost in the way of outdoor exercise duringthe visit. To see Castleford again, and especially in its January dress, was an attraction. Though Mildred had not wished to make her home at The Towers, she held the warmest recollections of her stay there, and looked forward to meeting Sir Darcy and Lady Lorraine and Violet equally with the Vicarage family. Rhoda had also invited Kitty Fletcher, with whom she had struck up a strong friendship, and Kitty's brother Neville, who, as it chanced, was a schoolfellow of Diccon's; so it was arranged that the three young people should travel together from Kirkton into Westmorland.
The weather was cold, and the prospect that the frost might continue brought quite an anticipatory glow to Mildred's pale face. She was equipped with a new pair of skates, and had made such provision in the way of strong boots, sports coat, Alpine cap, and warm gloves as to be ready for any variety in the way of exercise. Kitty, equally-well prepared, was expecting ample scope for her energies, and hoping to find adventures that would put even hockey in the shade.
"If we could Be snowed up in a cutting, now, and have to dig our way out and tramp to the nearest cottage, it would be fun!" she proclaimed, viewing the landscape from the carriage window as the train sped northwards. "That always used to be the fate, or rather good fortune, of people in the old coaching days. They invariably spent a night at a 'Holly Tree Inn', and either saw a ghost, or found a long-lost will, or restored a runaway heiress to her guardians!"
"There's no romance nowadays," remarked Neville. "If you're looking out for anysensational happenings, you'll be disappointed, Miss Kit. Rich uncles don't meet their disinherited nephews at obscure country inns and melt into bank-notes and blessings; and as for the ghosts, modern hygiene has swept them clean away. I don't suppose you'd find so much as a solitary cavalier with his head under his arm, or a white lady wringing her hands. No, I prophesy that the train will get to Whiterigg station exactly to railway time; and as for being snowed up, there isn't a single flake coming down, and the sky is obstinately blue. Sorry to check your romantic aspirations, Madam, but mine are the words of sober common sense."
"Yes, you always love to tie a string to my imagination and jerk me back. Never mind, if we've no sensation on the journey, perhaps we'll find one at Castleford. A whole week gives one a chance, anyhow!"
If Mother Nature had not been accommodating enough to provide snow for Kitty's delectation, she had done her best in the way of hoar-frost, and the woods were gleaming with sparkling crystals till they resembled the jewelled forests of Grimm's fairy tale. The landscape gained ever in grandeur as the train rushed north, and Mildred, who had seen it in summer, was inclined to accord it the palm of beauty in its winter aspect.
"There's romance enough for you, Kit-cat!" she exclaimed, pointing to a gorge where a swollen rivulet was dashing over a rocky bed. "You ought to find Undines and water-nixies if you watch for them, not to speak of the chance of slipping in, and being rescued from imminent perilof your life. If you're thirsting for dangerous adventures we'd better give the Somervilles warning, and they can go out prepared with a drag, and a stretcher, and an ambulance outfit."
"Oh! but don't you know I'm going to do the miraculous escape?" laughed Kitty.
A very warm welcome awaited the travellers at the Vicarage, where the three boys, as well as Rhoda, were back for the holidays. The Somervilles had the happy knack of making their guests feel at home, and were well able to provide both indoor and outdoor amusements. For the first few days the weather, though fairly keen, did not admit of true Alpine sports. The young people, however, found plenty of enjoyment in long walks over the moors and scrambles up the hills. They would take lunch with them, and pass the whole day in the open air, returning for tea at four o'clock with ravenous appetites for muffins and Yule cakes. Music and games were the order of the evening. Mildred had brought her violin, and was able to convince her friends of her improvement; the Vicar produced his violoncello, Rhoda sang her latest songs, and the rest of the party were always ready with a chorus to the seafaring and hunting ditties which Eric was fond of trolling forth. Diccon was endeavouring to learn the banjo, and though his performances on that instrument still left much to be desired, and were an offence to ears educated to more classical strains, they at any rate provided much merriment. Neville had, as he expressed it, "no parlour tricks", but Kitty was clever at recitation, and declaimed many humorous pieces for the edification of her audience, who waxed enthusiasticover certain American comic gems which were the stars of her repertoire.
But all the time the young folks, while enjoying themselves hugely, were yearning with an almost unreasonable insistence for snow. The British climate, more lavish with rain as a rule, had given a spell of aggravatingly clear skies, but at length, as if relapsing into its usual habit, drew storm clouds across the blue.
"Thermometer below freezing-point, mountains smothered in mist, wind in the south-west!" chuckled Diccon. "If we don't have a good fall of snow before to-morrow morning, you may take me out and roll me down the hill in a sack! I'm not a weather prophet without observation."
Even before bedtime Diccon's hopes were fulfilled. The air was a maze of soft floating flakes, and already the path to the churchyard was covered. He retired in high glee, rubbing his hands in anticipation of the pleasures of the morrow. Next morning everybody awoke to a white world. While her children slept, Nature had slowly and silently accomplished her work; all night there had been a steady fall, and now a foot of snow lay over the landscape. It was for this that the boys had been waiting. Their bobsleighs, if not quite up to the level of those provided at Alpine winter resorts in Switzerland, were at any rate serviceable, and they knew of a good place for a toboggan track. Immediately after breakfast they went off to prepare the slide, choosing a splendid hill slope with a field at the bottom. They hurried back to fetch the girls.
"It's prime, and you'd best come along at onceand make the most of it," affirmed Rodney. "One never knows how long this sort of thing is going to last. It might be a melting slough of despond by to-morrow."
"Don't break your precious necks!" said Mrs. Somerville.
"There's no danger at all," laughed Diccon.
Rhoda had enjoyed the pleasures of tobogganing before, but to Mildred and Kitty it was a new and delightful experience. The rapid motion through the frosty air was an intense exhilaration, and the rough-and-tumble part of the performance only made them laugh. With cheeks crimson from excitement, they were ready for any number of repetitions of the experiment.
"Come along with me, Mildred, and I'll take you down like a sheet of greased lightning!" said Rodney. "No, don't go with 'sweet Richard'! He'll spill you overboard, and break your nose, if not your neck!"
"A libel! I'm as steady as a railway truck running through a goods yard!" protested Diccon. "Never mind! I'll take Kitty, and we'll see who's greased lightning!"
"Right you are! We'll have our go first, then you can follow. Eric and Neville can act as judges."
"Suppose they disagree?" laughed Mildred.
"Then Rhoda is final umpire."
"It's the most blissful sport in creation!" declared Mildred, as she tucked herself on to Rodney's sleigh. "It beats swimming and dancing and rowing and hockey, and everything I know except flying, which I've never tried."
"You're going to try it now," said Rodney. "Here goes! Right away!"
Off they went at a most terrific pace. The slide was in good form by now, and Rodney had got into practice.
"How many miles an hour?" gasped Mildred as they glided on.
"Wish I'd a speedometer! About a hundred, I should think. She's going A1. Oh, I say! Look out for yourself! Jemima! That was a narrow shave!"
As he spoke, Rodney had ground his heel heavily into the snow, and the sled slued sharply to the right. They were almost at the bottom of the run, and in another instant were able to stop. Rodney sprang up, and rushing back to the lump of snow which they had just avoided, hastily uncovered a jagged piece of rock.
"Hi! Danger!" he yelled to Diccon, who was about to start down the track. "Look out here for all you're worth!"
"What's the matter?" cried Mildred, who had joined him.
"Matter? Don't you see this boulder? It was completely hidden by the snow. If we'd hit it, I'd have broken your nose for you in good earnest, or something worse. Keep wide, Diccon! It's as nasty a trap as one could find anywhere—it's so innocently covered. There they go, like an express! They'd have smashed straight into it if I hadn't warned them."
"Who's won?" asked Mildred.
"A draw!" shouted Rhoda.
"Then come on, Mildred, and we'll try again.We know our danger spot now, and I promise I won't run you at it. Are you game for another go?"
"As many as you like!" declared Mildred with sparkling eyes.
That evening the weather behaved with extraordinary caprice. A short thaw, melting the surface of the snow, was succeeded by the sharpest frost of the winter, and for twenty-four hours the thermometer surprised even those case-hardened meteorologists, the oldest inhabitants. The result made all lovers of winter sports chuckle with satisfaction. Every pond and flooded meadow had a surface like glass, and skating, which before had been an illusion, was now a possibility.
"We'll go down to Wilkins's pond," declared Rodney, "it's not bad for a beginning. But to-morrow'll be the day of days! I've just seen Sir Darcy. He says another twelve hours of this frost and the lake will bear. He won't let anybody on to-day, but by to-morrow morning it ought to be in absolutely ripping condition. Then we'll show you what Westmorland skating is like!"
"It's our last day!" sighed Mildred. "I'm glad the grand treat has been saved up for the end."
The Somervilles could all skate well, for Castleford was a cold place in winter, and often registered frost when more southern counties had open weather. Some meadows near the Vicarage were generally flooded in December and January by the overflow of a brook, and the four inches of water that covered them froze rapidly, affording an opportunity for ice lovers of which they generally availedthemselves immediately. Mildred and the two Fletchers had also learned to skate. Kirkton possessed the rare advantage of a real ice rink, and they had sometimes spent Saturday afternoons there, so though they could not rival the Somervilles, they were not absolute novices, and could look after themselves. The whole party passed the day on a neighbouring pond, and by dusk both Mildred and Kitty had improved so immensely with the practice that they considered themselves thoroughly qualified to appreciate the joys that were promised them on the morrow.
By ten o'clock next morning a very jovial company met at the lake. Sir Darcy had invited a number of other families from the neighbourhood, and young and old were all anxious to try their prowess. The ice had been duly tested with the orthodox gimlet, and passed as absolutely safe; it was in splendid condition, and the smooth expanse presented a most attractive appearance.
"Who need go to Switzerland when they've got this at their very doors?" exulted Rodney. "I don't believe St. Moritz could go one better, and we're not crowded up with a lot of foreigners either. Old England for me!"
"Yes, if she behaves herself in the matter of frost!" laughed Mildred. "The worst of it is that she keeps up her reputation for a day or two, then gets tired of it, and sends a thaw. By next week this will probably be all water again."
"Prophesy smooth things unto me!" protested Rodney, with mock tragedy. "The fact that you've gone home will be bad enough. Won't you leave the ice to console me?"
"That's out of my dispensation. You must write to the weather office."
"I'm going to try fancy figures!" declared Rhoda. "If you don't see me cut an eight before the day's over, I'll—well—bite an inch off my skates!"
"A discreet promise, Madam Rhoda," said Rodney. "You're generally very ingenious at wriggling out of your bargains."
"Take that back, or I'll put an obstacle in your way when you're cutting your best flourish!" laughed Rhoda.
All the visitors had come determined to enjoy themselves. Sir Darcy and several of his friends had commenced curling, urged on by the enthusiasm of two Scottish gentlemen who were staying with the Tracy family. The Vicar joined them, and soon the elder members of the company were engaged in the sport, as interested and excited as any juveniles. The young people were busy at first helping some of the guests who were not very steady on their skates; but when these had gained sufficient confidence to support one another, their teachers were free to cut figures, get up a hockey match, or practise any other diversion they pleased. Several sledges had been brought to the lake, and children were placed on them and taken for rides, races being organized between the rival sleighs, to the huge delight of their small occupants, who would never have tired of the pastime if their long-suffering entertainers had not at last struck work and left them to amuse themselves.