"And we may do what we like for the next ten days?" said Miss Thompson.
"Anything; only don't bother me."
"We won't indeed."
"I will send in a doctor to see her. She looks perfectly well, only a little pale. Yes, amuse her; do what you please. It is not my place to punish her. Thank Heaven she is not my child!"
Notwithstanding all that went before, Christian enjoyed her ten days. She knew she ought not to feel happy, but nevertheless happiness would nestle up close to her. She was not troubled; she was calm. She felt that, naughty as she had been, God had forgiven her. During those ten days Christian was very gentle in her manners. She had a sensation in her heart that she could never be naughty again. She was so impressed by this feeling that, the night before she left for Cornwall, she said to nurse:
"Nursey, darling, I suppose all things are for the best. I feel that I am a much wiser girl than I should have been if I had gone to Cornwall that time when father and mother left."
"What do you mean, lovey?" replied the old nurse.
"Well, you see, I have been quite bad, and I have had great terrors, and I have lived through the sort of things that open your eyes, and I see now that I was a selfish girl, and naughty and deceitful, and not a bit of a heroine; but since I came back I have vowed that I will never be naughty again, and I don't mean to be."
"To be sure, dear," said nurse gently. "It's all very fine to promise that to yourself, isn't it, but how do you think you will keep it up?"
"Simply by not yielding to temptation. You know I have a passionate nature, and I have lived a great deal alone, and I dare say I might have found it hard tobe thrown with other girls and to give up my own ways. But I am not at all afraid now, for after what I have suffered I have vowed to be good—very good—all the rest of my life."
"Well then, you have just to bear this in mind," said nurse: "God Almighty must help you, and desperate hard too, or you will fail. I prayed for you, my darling, when I didn't know that I'd ever see your sweet face again, and I'll go on praying for you; and I hope you will be happy at school, and that you will learn a lot, so that when your father and mother come back they will be proud of you—as I always am, my dear, sweet lamb."
Miss Neil came early on the following morning and took Christian to Paddington; and this time there was no attempt at running away, and no adventure of any sort, for Miss Neil and Christian had a first-class carriage to themselves for the greater part of the journey.
They reached Tregellick at six o'clock, when it was quite dark, and there a brougham was waiting for them; and after driving for about a mile they found themselves outside the town, in the heart of the country. They drove on a little farther, and Christian, gazing out through the darkness, fancied she saw the gleam of white foam caused by the waves of the Atlantic, and the noise of the sea came loudly, with an insistent splash, against her ears. This noise moved and delighted her. She grasped Miss Neil's hand.
"I shall like living here," she said.
Miss Neil replied calmly, "I hope you will, Christian. You quite understand, my dear, that the school is a strict one, and the first thing you have to learn is absolute obedience. From what I hear, there is very little liberty granted to the girls of Penwerne; but for those who are right-minded there is to be found in your new school a growth and strength both moral and physical."
"Oh, dear, I do wish she wouldn't speak in that lecturing sort of way!" thought Christian to herself; but then she remembered her vow that she would never be cross, even with Miss Neil, again, and she shut her lips and said nothing more.
By and by the carriage drew up outside some tall iron gates, which were opened by a neat-looking woman in a white cap. Christian caught sight of the lodge, with a bright lamp placed in one of the windows, as they drove swiftly up the long avenue. They stopped before a very long, low house, with many lights twinkling in many windows, and a deep porch to the front door. As soon as ever the sound of wheels was heard, a neat-looking servant flung the door wide open; then she came out and helped Miss Neil and Christian to get out of the cab.
"Will you have the goodness to tell Miss Peacock that Miss Neil and the little girl, Christian Mitford, have arrived?" said Miss Neil to the servant. "And see, please, that Miss Mitford's luggage and my handbag are brought indoors."
"Yes, madam," said the servant. "Will you walk this way, please?"
She took them into a very wide hall, brightly lighted with electric light, and with an ingle-nook at the farther end where a great fire of logs burned on the hearth.
Christian was cold, and a sense of depression, notwithstanding all her brave efforts, was creeping over her. She looked at Miss Neil, and thought she had seldom seen a more disagreeable or sterner face.
"I am so thankful," thought the child, "that she is not going to teach me—that she is not going to stay here. I couldn't be good with her; that's quite certain. But, all the same, I will keep my vow."
They were shown into a small, cheerful room, whichalso had a fire burning. The servant withdrew, saying in a respectful voice as she did so, "I will tell my mistress, and she will send someone to you."
"Dear me, Christian!" said Miss Neil when the door had closed and they found themselves alone; "what a particularly pleasant, cheerful sort of place this seems to be! Not at all my idea of a strict school. My dear, do hold yourself up; you don't know how that stoop ruins your appearance. Your parents are very particular about you, and they expect so much of you that the very least you can do now is to make extra efforts to be good in the highest sense of the word. Goodness includes deportment, Christian; perhaps you don't understand that."
"Oh, yes, I do, Miss Neil," said Christian, who was almost biting her lips to keep her tongue from saying something pert.
"You of course also understand," continued Miss Neil, "that you are not now arriving at school with anyéclat. You have been exceedingly naughty, and I rather fancy your punishment awaits you here. I am not certain, of course, but I rather fancy that such is the case."
"What do you mean?" said Christian, in alarm.
"My dear, I say nothing further. Time will prove; time will prove. But it really is most kind of Miss Peacock to have you at all. There were moments when I feared you would not be received at Penwerne. That fact would have been a slur upon you all your life. Ah! and here comes——"
The door was thrown open, and a tall, very graceful woman of about forty years of age entered. Her face was very sweet, but there was no lack of power in it; on the contrary, it looked strong, steadfast, self-assured. The eyes were the brightest Christian had ever looked at. She felt certain, on the spur of the moment,that this woman had known sorrow—that she had conquered sorrow. Her heart went out to her on the spot.
Miss Peacock bowed to Miss Neil, and then, taking both Christian's hands, she drew the young girl towards her and kissed her gravely on the forehead.
"Welcome," she said.
The one word seemed full both of strength and love. The depression which had fallen upon Christian vanished on the spot.
"I will be good," she said, and she raised her eyes full of tears and fixed them on her mistress's face.
"I hope you will. But this is not the time to talk of goodness or of naughtiness; you are so tired that what you want is rest. Never mind to-night about being good or bad, clever or ignorant. You must have your supper and then go to bed. Miss Neil, I am glad to tell you that I am able to give Christian, for a time at least, a little bedroom to herself. Susan Sykes as a rule shares the room, but she is ill and not able to return. Until she does Christian will have the room to herself."
"Oh, I am glad!" said Christian.
"And you ought to be, Christian," said Miss Neil in her tartest voice, "for you don't deserve indulgences."
"Oh, come!" said Miss Peacock. "We never talk of faults—at least in this house—except when we are punishing them; and I think Christian was punished. She begins here with a clean sheet. Now, my dear, I am going to put you in the charge of Jessie, who is my right-hand and looks after all the comforts the girls require."
As Miss Peacock spoke she touched the electric bell by the side of the fireplace, and the same pleasant-looking servant-girl who had shown them into the house appeared.
"Ask Miss Jessie to step into the hall waiting room," said Miss Peacock.
The servant withdrew, and in a very short time a girlish-looking person, who might have been one of the schoolgirls herself, entered. That was Christian's first impression with regard to Miss Jessie Jones, but when she looked again she began to perceive that Miss Jessie was not quite so young as she appeared. She was dressed in a peculiar and old-fashioned way. Her rather skimpily cut skirt reached barely to her neat ankles, and over it she wore a muslin apron with a bib. The apron was frilled all round, and daintily finished with bows of pale-blue ribbon. Miss Jessie's hair was in short ringlets—it was of a soft, blonde color—her face was pink-and-white, and her eyes blue. Her little figure was also exceedingly neat. She ran into the room, and said in a gay voice:
"Well, dear Miss Peacock, here I am."
"I want you, Jessie, to take this young girl—my new pupil, Christian Mitford—and look after her. You must do everything for her that she requires; and I should like her to go early to bed. Did you ask Robinson to light a fire in her room?"
"Certainly, dear Miss Peacock; the room is in perfect order, and there is a bright fire."
"Well then, good-night, Christian," said Miss Peacock. "I leave you in safe hands. You will see your friend Miss Neil to-morrow."
"Good-night, Christian," said Miss Neil; "and be thankful for your mercies."
Christian left the room, accompanied by Miss Jessie. "I am glad you have come at last," said the latter. "We have been all looking forward to seeing you. You can scarcely imagine how disappointed we were when you could not arrive a fortnight ago."
"Oh, please don't speak of it!" said Christian.
"But why not? We were so sorry. Dear Miss Peacock said you were unavoidably detained. She did not tell us what had happened. She only said you could not come to school for at least ten days."
"It was sweet of her," said Christian. Then she added impulsively, "Isn't she the very nicest and best woman in the world?"
"Ah!" said Miss Jessie, with a laugh, "you have fallen in love with her, as we all do. There never was anybody quite like Lavinia Peacock. Don't you think her name sweet? Lavinia, like an old-fashioned flower; and then Peacock—like that gorgeous bird. But nothing could be too good for her; she is perfect. The girls adore her—they love her almost too well. Yes, she makes sunshine wherever she goes. Not that it's all sunshine at Penwerne by any means. But I will tell you about that presently—not to-night; you look tired. Are you tired? Have you quite got over whatever detained you?"
"Quite; and please don't speak of it."
"I won't if you don't wish. The mistresses here never do anything to worry the girls; we never nag, if you understand what that means."
"And are you a mistress?"
A sad look came into the sweet face of little Miss Jessie.
"No; I am not exactly one of the mistresses," she said. "I don't exactly know what I am, except that my province in the school is to spread happiness. That is what dear Lavinia wishes. 'Make them happy, Jessie, and you'll do all that I require,' she says. I generally get a new girl for the first night—perhaps longer. She trusts me. You see, I am not at all a frightening sort of person."
"I shouldn't think you were," said Christian.
"You look a very nice girl, dear—nice-looking, I mean—rather distinguished. Lavinia wouldn't like me to say anything of that kind, so I oughtn't to; but you really do. Now then, will you come in to the refectory, or will you have something brought up to your own room?"
"Oh, something in my room, please, if it isn't too much trouble," said Christian.
"Trouble, dear? Whenever did Jessie find anything a trouble? It is her business to do this sort of thing if it adds to the happiness of anyone. We will go straight upstairs, then; you won't want to see any of your companions to-night?"
"I think not."
Miss Jessie paused. It seemed to Christian as they were walking up the low, softly carpeted stairs, and down first one long corridor and then another, that there was a murmuring sound as though of bees. She could not make out if it was caused by the Atlantic or by voices.
"They are anxious to see you. They begged and implored of me; but you shall have your way."
"I would much rather not see anybody but you until to-morrow."
"You dear child, you shan't be crossed. But just one moment."
Miss Jessie paused outside a door. The sound of bees was now unmistakably changed for the sound of voices.
"No, darlings, not to-night; she is tired. Don't ask it, pets. You never cross Jessie, do you? That's all right, loves."
The door was shut again, and she took Christian's hand.
"They are dear girls, although we have one or two black sheep. Of course I must not name them. We are all trying—we who belong, I hope, to the white sheep—to turn them from the error of their ways. Now then, here is your room."
The door was opened, and Christian found herself in a dainty chamber lined with white enameled wood. The wood went right up to the ceiling, and across it; and in the ceiling itself were two bright eyes, caused by electric light. Miss Jessie showed the young girl how she could turn it on and off. In a pretty grate lined with pink tiles a bright fire was blazing. There were two beds at the farther end, one covered with a pretty Liberty coverlet and unmade, and the other with a snowy white sheet turned down. The look of the little bed was most inviting. There were white dimity curtains to the windows. The white effect of everything, with the pink tiles, the blazing fire, and the crimson felt on the floor, made Christian feel that she had never been in so sweet a chamber before.
"You will be happy here, I know," said Miss Jessie. "We are all intensely happy at Penwerne. Who could help it who was under the guardianship of Lavinia Peacock?"
When Miss Jessie had seen that Christian had all she required, even to a can of nice hot water, she kissed her and went away. Christian thought that she would not see her again that night. She felt contented, soothed, and happy. How silly she had been to dread this charming school, this life so full of interest! As she thought of Miss Peacock, and remembered the look on her face, she felt her heart glow already with love for her new mistress. Then how sweet and kind dear Miss Jessie was!
As she ate her supper, and unlocked her trunk andtook out just what was necessary for the night's requirements, she thought again of Miss Peacock's great kindness in not speaking to the school of what had really happened.
"She said I was unavoidably detained," thought the child. "She shielded me. There are very few who would do that. I love her already. If I am not good after so much kindness, I shall be the very worst girl in the world."
Christian said her prayers—quite earnest ones, in which she implored of God to help her—and then she got into bed. She was just getting warm between the cozy sheets, when the door was softly opened and little Miss Jessie peeped in.
"Ah! you are in bed," she said; "that's right. I have only come to fetch the tray. Your fire will burn for some hours. It is so cold just at present that we will have it lit before you get up in the morning. That is a special indulgence which will only be granted to you just for to-morrow. To-morrow will be a complete holiday for you. I thought you might like to know. You will be able to unpack and get everything into apple-pie order. Then you will make the acquaintance of the girls, and get to know the ways of the school. You will probably have some lessons to prepare for the next day, but only if you are quite well enough to undertake them. Miss Peacock said I was to be very careful about you. I suppose that is on account of your illness that kept you from school."
As Miss Jessie said the last words Christian suddenly sat up in bed.
"I wasn't kept away from school by illness," she said in a choking voice.
"Well, never mind, dear; it doesn't matter what it was. Our dear head-mistress knows."
"Miss Jessie," said Christian, "I don't know what your other name is."
"I am never called by it, dearest. My other name is Jones; quite a common name, isn't it? But I am always known here as Jessie, or Miss Jessie. Lie down now and go to sleep."
"I can't until I tell you something. I must tell you."
"Well, love, if it relieves your mind; but really and truly I would much rather——"
In the firelight little Miss Jessie's face looked quite troubled; she took both of Christian's hands.
"You are excited," she said. "You have traveled far; the effects of your illness are still perceptible."
"Oh, I wasn't ill! It is about that I want to speak to you. You at least must know the truth."
"Oh, but I never know things of that sort," said Miss Jessie in an alarmed voice. "Dear Lavinia Peacock would be distressed. I beg of you, my child. Oh, what is it? Actually the dear child is crying. Well, of course, Christian, if it relieves your mind, dear——"
"It does—it does!" said Christian. "I couldn't sleep to-night if you didn't know it. It wasn't illness."
"My dear, dear child."
"It was naughtiness."
"Children are often naughty," said Miss Jessie.
"But not like my naughtiness. It was big—it was worse; it was wickedness. I ran away."
"You did what, dear?" said Miss Jessie; and now she backed from Christian and looked at her with her round, rosy, good-natured face paling with horror.
She said afterwards to herself, "I was glad there was only firelight, and that I was standing with my back to it, for the poor child would have seen how horrified I felt."
"Yes," said Christian, "I ran away that day afortnight back when you were expecting me. I went to the station with Miss Neil. I left her and went away with another little girl. We had planned it all out together. We went to an awful place in the slums for the night. Oh, it was fearful—fearful! We nearly died from fright. We were well punished. The next day we got home, but it was a terrible adventure, and it nearly killed us both. It was not illness; it was what I have said."
Miss Jessie had now recovered her ordinary composure.
"My dear," she said, "I am glad and sorry you have told me. You may be quite sure that I shall never repeat it to anyone. There is just one thing, Christian: you must not on any account—on any account whatever—breathe this story in the school. It would not be understood, dear. It would make your position unfortunate. I cannot explain matters. Our code of honor is very high, and we like all our girls to have a clean record—never to do what is daring and downright wicked. Ah, yes, Christian, we repent, but somehow the flavor of the sin remains. Ah, Christian, I will tell you a story of another little girl some day—not to-night. Good-night, now. It was brave of you to tell, and I will speak to Lavinia about it; but whatever happens, this must on no account be known in the school."
Miss Jessie tripped softly away, and Christian, soothed by the light of the fire, by the knowledge that she had unburdened herself, by the resolve that, come what would, she would do the very best that was possible for a girl to do in the future, dropped asleep.
There were forty boarders at Penwerne House. Their ages varied from thirteen to eighteen. They were almost all English girls, well brought up, and of good family. The house was very old, but extremely roomy. There were corridors and long passages and endless small rooms in every imaginable direction. But although the house was really so very ancient, the appearance of the rooms themselves spoke of a far more luxurious state of living than people required at the time when Penwerne Manor was built; for Miss Peacock had taken extraordinary pains with her school, and the old rooms, wainscoted in the first instance, were now enameled many pale shades of beautiful colors—some ivory white, some the palest green, some blue, some pink. There were whole corridors with only pink rooms, and whole corridors with only blue ones; but the girls who had the choicest and largest rooms were those who slept in the white chambers, as they were called.
Christian's room was one of a series that went down the entire length of a corridor. Each of these pretty rooms boasted of two windows, and in each two neat brass-mounted bedsteads were placed. Christian thought herself in great luck to have a room to herself at first, and prepared to enjoy herself thoroughly.
Miss Neil came up to the young girl's room to say good-by to her early on the following morning.
"Well, my dear," she said, "I am sure you are inluck. What a nice little room! Not little, though—quite a good-sized room. And you have it to yourself. You ought to be exceedingly thankful, Christian; you are a most lucky girl. I shall write to your dear father and mother without fail by the next mail. You had better do the same. They will have got over their dreadful shock about you by the time they receive that letter. And now, dear, I must say good-by. Here is a little money that you may need for pocket-money; and when you want anything more you have but to write to me—Elm Lodge, Denvers Road, Southsea. See, I have written the address distinctly on this paper. Miss Peacock knows that she is to apply to me in any difficulty. You will stay here at Easter, or go away with Miss Peacock, just as she thinks best; but if you like to spend some of your summer holidays with me, I dare say I can arrange it, but I cannot positively promise. I will do my best. Here are the two sovereigns. You must make them do until Easter; as every possible want is supplied, you cannot require more money than this. I have asked Miss Peacock, and—somewhat reluctantly, I must say—she has complied with my wish that your letters are, for the present at least, to be overlooked; except, of course, those to your parents. It is necessary, Christian, that this should be done; and there is no use in your frowning over the matter, for a girl who could behave in the disgraceful way you did cannot expect to be trusted. You are, of course, absolutely forbidden to correspond with that naughty little Rose Latimer; and even your nurse can only receive letters which Miss Peacock has read. Now, I think that is all. Be good. Thank your lucky star that you have come to such a considerate mistress; for if she had proclaimed through the school the enormity of your act you would have had a sorry time. I certainly never asked her to conceal it.I thought she naturally would tell, and I felt that if she had done so it would be a due punishment to you for your disgraceful behavior; but she thinks otherwise, and as she has the care of your education for the present, I must of course bow to her decree. Good-by, Christian. I trust you will keep well, and be—as you ought to be—happy."
Miss Neil gave Christian a little peck on her forehead and then on her lips, after which she hurried from the room.
According to Miss Jessie's promise, a fire had again been lit in the young girl's chamber, and a neat-looking servant had brought in coffee, toast, and rolls.
Christian ate her breakfast, and then waited somewhat shyly, wondering what would happen next. Presently a great bell sounded all over the house, and a minute later Miss Jessie bustled in.
"Ah! you are dressed," she said; "that is right. And very neat you look in your pretty gray dress, with that nice frilled apron. Miss Peacock will quite approve of your appearance. Most of our girls wear their hair plaited behind, but I see you wear yours quite loose. Well, never mind; you have pretty hair, dear—very pretty. Now then, come with me, for the prayer-bell has rung. You will see your companions at prayers. Soon, I trust, you will be quite happy, and a busy member of a useful family."
Miss Jessie took Christian's hand and walked quickly down the corridor. Doors were pushed open as she went, and more than one bright head, with curling hair and laughing eyes, looked out. Christian felt a sudden and intense accession of shyness; she dared not glance at any of her schoolfellows. Her heart began to beat loudly in her ears, and by the time she reached the great hall, where prayers were always read by Miss Peacock,she was scarlet. There was a tittering laugh from a girl as she went up to the seat appointed for her near Miss Jessie. Another girl said "Hush!" and then in the midst of the solemn stillness Miss Peacock read the lesson for the day. This was followed by a short prayer, and after the girls had risen from their knees and the servants had withdrawn, Miss Peacock mounted a little dais near her own desk and looked around her.
"Wait a minute, girls," she said; "I want to introduce you to your new schoolfellow. Come here, Christian Mitford."
Christian advanced tremulously.
"This, my dear young people, is Christian Mitford, your new companion; and, I trust, your new friend. She has never been in Cornwall before, nor has she ever been in a boarding-school. Is that correct, Christian?"
"Yes, madam," said Christian in a low voice.
"Our ways, therefore," continued the head-mistress, "will be strange to her, and I trust that each girl in the school will do her utmost to make her happy by kindness, by sympathy, by showing her the ropes, by letting her feel that you are glad to have her with you. I trust you all, my dear girls, and know you will do your best for this young stranger. I put her into the care of—Ah! Louisa Twining, my dear, come here."
A slender girl, with soft, neat brown hair and brown eyes to match, left her companions and walked up the room.
"Louisa," said Miss Peacock, "this is Christian Mitford. Will you please see after her a bit, and let her stay by you in class, and take her into the playground afterwards, and tell her all about the school and the life here?"
"Yes, Miss Peacock," said Louisa.
She looked kindly at Christian as she spoke.
"Christian," said Miss Peacock, "you are in safe hands when I give you into the charge of Louisa Twining. She is one of my oldest and most trusted pupils. Now then, dear, it is the custom that the new pupil should not have any lessons to do on the day after her arrival. Your time is therefore absolutely your own, and you can unpack your things and put them away in the neat cupboards in your room. You can arrange your schoolroom desk, and ask for what books you require from your English teacher, Miss Forest; and, in short, do anything you please. I should counsel you to take Louisa absolutely into your confidence, for she is a very sure guide for a new-comer. To-morrow you take your place with the other pupils. I shall be glad to see you in my own private room at five o'clock to tea. And now for the present, good-by, dear."
Miss Peacock nodded to Christian, smiled at Louisa, and left the room.
Louisa looked hard at Christian.
"Come," she said; "we must be great chums, mustn't we?"
"Oh, if you would be kind to me!" said poor Christian.
Her shyness was getting worse; the tears were very near her eyes, but she did not dare to let them appear.
"I will introduce you to some of the others," said Louisa. "The sooner you know us all the better. First of all, how old are you?"
"I shall be fourteen in three months' time."
"Oh, we make a great fuss about birthdays here; but yours is some way off yet. You are only thirteen at present. Do you know that I am nearly sixteen, and I am not much taller than you."
"I always knew that I was very tall," said Christian. "I hate it myself; I'd much rather be a little girl."
"If you happened to be a little girl you would anything but wish it, I can assure you. But now here we are; here is a whole bevy of the girls, all so curious about you, and so anxious to be nice and kind."
"Well, Twine dear," said a merry-looking girl of about fourteen years of age, bounding forward when she saw Louisa issuing out of the hall accompanied by Christian, "so you have got her. You are the privileged one. Now, I wanted to be. It's most unfair that you should have all the plums, Twiny."
"Don't be a goose, Florry. You know that Miss Peacock would not give the charge of a new girl to a little mite like you."
"Little mite indeed!" laughed Florry, tossing her head. "Well, I suppose, whatever happens, I may talk to the sacred being."
"Don't!" said Christian suddenly, and speaking with irritation.
"She hates to be laughed at; can't you see that?" said Louisa, speaking angrily.
She had scarcely said the words before a mocking voice, which seemed to come from over their heads, cried in a high staccato:
"She hates to be laughed at; can't you see that?"
Christian looked round. She was startled and alarmed.
"That's only Star; she is incorrigible," said Louisa. "You will have to get accustomed to her. But come now; you would like to see the schoolroom. You will have your own desk, but its exact position I can't tell you; your teachers will first have to find out what you know."
Now, Christian knew a great deal. From her earliest days she had been well educated, and with regard to her attainments she was decidedly above the average girl.As she remembered this fact a sense of satisfaction stole over her. Nevertheless she felt exceedingly depressed and considerably alarmed.
Louisa and Christian walked quickly to the farther end of the hall, and Florence returned to her companions. Louisa now spoke quickly.
"You must not get frightened; or, at least, if you are frightened you must not show it. I assure you if you do your life won't be worth living here. We are all rather a nice set of girls, but there are a few of us who have an intolerable habit of teasing. If it is noticed that you are easily impressed, or thin-skinned, you will be made thoroughly unhappy. Your only plan is not to care one little bit what anyone says to you, or what anyone does. Don't be startled when stupid jokes are sprung on you. You did look so ridiculously alarmed when Star called out that sentence just now."
"Of course I was. I can't think how she did it. Was she hanging on to the ceiling anywhere?"
"Not a bit of it. Star Lestrange is immensely popular, because she has got the power of ventriloquism. She can throw her voice anywhere. I assure you there was a time when she terrified me. But now I am accustomed to her, and she is so funny—so audacious. On one occasion she whispered just above Miss Peacock's forehead, "Bless you, sweet angel!" She nearly got into a scrape about that, for although we are treated in this school in the most heavenly way, Miss Peacock is intensely particular, and the discipline is sound—I must say it. There can be no crooked ways in this school, nor obscure corners in the life of any girl who lives here. Woe betide her if she has anything in her past that she wants to hide. Why, how red you are getting! Aren't you strong?"
"Yes, thank you."
"You are nervous. Now, do take my advice: don't show it to the others; just uphold your own dignity. I wish you could have seen Star when she first came to the school. They tried to bully her a bit, some of the most mischievous spirits, but didn't she crush them all round? She's awfully good-natured, you know, and she wouldn't hurt you really for the world; but she has such mad spirits, she has to give way now and then. Now, I mustn't gossip any more. We work here from nine to eleven."
"But isn't it long past nine now?" asked Christian.
Louisa laughed. "Of course not," she said. "It is five minutes to nine. You had your breakfast at seven. You will have to come down to refectory breakfast to-morrow. You are going to be awfully indulged and petted to-day. I suppose that is on account of your illness."
"But I haven't been ill," said Christian, and her face became crimson.
"Then what was the matter with you? Why were you unavoidably detained?"
"Oh, please don't question me," said Christian.
"Why can't you speak? The girls will expect you to do so this evening. We always get a new girl to tell us as much as ever she can of her life's story—after dark. You look as though you were a splendid story-teller. Are you?"
"I could tell you some stories," said Christian.
She thought of her darling attic and the heroines of her past life. Nevertheless, her terrors were getting greater each moment. If the girls insisted on questioning her with regard to the unlooked-for circumstances which were supposed to have detained her, she would certainly betray herself; and for a girl like StarLestrange to know of such an escapade would cause poor Christian almost to lose her senses.
"I will introduce you to the nicest girls," said Louisa, who was watching her face—"the nicest and the kindest—and I will ask them to look after you when I am not with you myself."
"But mayn't I stay near you all day? Oh, I wish—I wish you'd let me."
"You dear young thing, of course you may. But then you see to-morrow will come, and the day after, and the day after that. I am in the sixth class of the school. I am rather young to be there, but I am, all the same; and I am proud of it, I can tell you. You, of course, will be in a different class, and you must associate with the girls of your own age. You see, you can't help yourself. You will have great fun after a bit. Here come the mistresses and the girls, and lessons have begun. Sit down near me at this desk, and listen with all your might. Miss Forest and Mademoiselle le Brume may question you a bit about your attainments this morning. I am not quite certain, but I think they will."
"I wish they would; I'd much rather," said Christian.
"Would you really? Then I'll go and speak to Miss Forest at once."
Each desk now had a bright and merry or a grave and serious girl seated before it, and forty pairs of eyes were darting from time to time in Christian's direction—some quizzical, some indifferent, some alive with curiosity; some sober, earnest, kind. But whatever the feelings that dwelt in the minds of the girls who owned the eyes, they all kept gazing at Christian, who felt at last as though she were under forty pairs of burning glasses, so keen became the torture.
Presently Louisa returned.
"Miss Forest will see you in half an hour, and Mademoiselle says you must go to her in the French room when the rest of us are at play. Our music-master, too, Mr. Frederick, is coming to-day, and you may as well let him hear what you can do. Oh, you will soon be very busy and very happy. And now don't look at the girls; or if you want to look at them, stare well. That will put them in a good humor, and they will stop staring at you."
Christian went through the ordeal with the mistresses and the music-master with muchéclat. Miss Forest was evidently surprised at her knowledge of English history and literature, at her grammatical accuracy—for she set her a short essay to write—and at her knowledge generally. Mademoiselle was equally delighted with the purity of her French accent, and with the admirable way she translated a paragraph from a rather difficult French story-book. And, finally, Mr. Frederick said that she had real talent for music, and that he looked forward with much pleasure to conducting the studies of a pupil who would do him such credit.
Christian enjoyed herself during this time. She forgot her fears; she felt stimulated to do her very best. Finally, she returned to the schoolroom with a sort of halo round her brow. She was certain that she had done well.
Soon it was whispered all over the school that Christian Mitford was nothing short of a genius—that she was one of the cleverest girls who had ever come to the school. These reports were of course exaggerated; but still the solid fact remained that she was put into the fourth class for all English studies, and into the lower fifth for French and music. That a girl of thirteen was in such a position spoke for itself. Florry, whose other name was Burton, looked at her with great black eyes of envy. Star Lestrange flung the words to the ceiling just above Christian's head:
"She's a genius, and she knows it, the darling young thing."
The look on Florry's face and the expression of mischief in Star's bright dancing eyes brought Christian back to the fact that attainments alone and a strong wish for study did not necessarily secure happiness in a school like Penwerne Manor. She could not get over her nervous fears.
"I deserve it," she said to herself. "I should not be one scrap—no, not one scrap—afraid if I hadn't done wrong; but it is just the terror of their finding out that keeps my heart beating so hard. Oh, dear! oh, dear! There's no way out, for I can't run way again, and father and mother are nearly in India now. As to Miss Neil, she saw no sympathy with anyone; and poor dear nurse and Miss Thompson can't help me even if they wish to. Oh, dear! I am an unhappy girl."
Christian was standing by herself in one corner of the great playground as these thoughts visited her. Presently a hand was laid on her shoulder, and beautiful little Star stood by her side.
"Let's be friends, Christian," she said in a hearty voice.
"Will you?" answered Christian, her eyes brightening.
"I'd like to," said Star. "I took a fancy to you the moment I saw your face, even though you did look so alarmed and so startled."
"You'd have been startled too," said Christian stoutly, "if you had heard an awful voice on the ceiling above your head talking about you."
Star laughed; then she looked grave.
"I can't help it," she said. "I really can't break myself of it. Darling Miss Peacock is sometimes angry; but who could resist the fun who had the power? Oh!the fright on your face a couple of hours ago was killing. You looked as though anyone could knock you down."
"But you did it twice," said Christian.
"Yes, my young genius, I did. But never mind me; when I ventriloquize, just acknowledge my talent, but at the same time consider me your friend. You and I are in the same class, and we can't help knocking up against each other. By the way, where is your bedroom? In the White Corridor?"
Christian nodded.
"I thought as much. I am in the White Corridor too. We may as well be friends, for I'm sure I'd be a disagreeable enemy."
"I'd love to be your friend," said Christian. "Do you really mean it?"
"I always mean what I say. You ask Lucy Norris. Have you met Lucy—little, satin-faced Lucy, with hair that shines like a looking-glass, blue eyes, rosebud lips, and cheeks the color of the peach? Ah, there she is! I'll call her. Lucy, beloved. Lucy! I say, Lucy! Lucy!"
The girl whom Star had so cleverly described looked round her in a startled way; then her eyes met the bright ones of Star Lestrange, and she ran up to her.
"What is it, Star? What do you want?"
"Your Satinship," replied Star. "I want very specially to introduce you to my new friend, Christian Mitford. I want you and me and one or two others to form a sort of bodyguard round her. You see——"
Star's voice dropped. She bent towards Lucy and whispered something in her ear.
Lucy colored and nodded. "You don't really think so?" she said.
"I am certain of it," responded Star. "That is what will happen unless we take care. Oh, don't you be frightened, my love," she continued, patting Christian with a sort of affectionate condescension, on the arm. "Lucy and I and——"
"Angela Goring," suddenly burst from Lucy's lips.
"Good, Lucy—capital! Lucy, Angel Goring, and I—— We must have one more, Lucy. Jane Price."
"Oh, why Jane Price?" said Lucy.
"Because she's just admirable. She's so stolid, you know, and so matter-of-fact, and so intensely sensible. We don't want all the flyaway girls of the school."
"I'm not flyaway, I'm sure," said Lucy.
"Except when you follow the erratic movements of the Star," replied Star, her eyes twinkling.
"You do lead us, and you know it, Star," said Lucy. "But, there! Angela will do nicely."
"Find her, then, love," said Star.
Lucy rushed away.
"What do you mean by a bodyguard? And why should I require one?" said Christian.
"My dear love, it will be only for a week or a fortnight, just to get you into the ways. The fact is, this school, for all its admirable qualities, has in it one or two black sheep. Now, I mustn't breathe any names; dear, sweet Miss Peacock never guesses at their existence, and we none of us ever mean to tell. You are the veriest of all very victims for such girls; therefore I want to guard you. Ah! here comes Angela. Hasn't she a nice face?"
A very tall, very slight girl, with coal-black hair and large, luminous dark eyes, now appeared. She was dressed in a rough gray tweed, with a leather belt round her waist. Her hair hung in a thick plait far below her waist.
"Angela," said Star, "Lucy has told you what we want you for."
"And I am very pleased," said Angela.
She spoke in a low, somewhat deep voice. Her eyes were resting on Christian as though she were already protecting her.
"Now for Jane Price, and our guard is complete," said Star.
Lucy appeared, leading Jane by the hand. Jane was a short, dumpy, and very plain girl. She had an enormous forehead and thin hair. Her hair was cut to a line level with her neck. Her dress was short, sensible, ugly. Her hands were big and somewhat red. She had small, honest eyes and a large mouth.
"Jane," said Star in a sprightly tone, "you are just the very person we want. This is the victim; we will guard her, won't we?"
"Three cheers!" cried Lucy. "Of course we will."
"You must come to us if you are in any difficulty, Christian," said Angela.
"And just let me know and I'll punch 'em all round," was Jane's remark.
Christian's face was very pale.
"Thank you all," she said. "No doubt you mean it in kindness, but I feel more frightened than ever."
"Oh, dear! the poor, sweet thing!" said Star. "Has anybody got a lollypop?"
Immediately three hands were thrust into three pockets. Star's alone was unattacked. She shook her head sadly.
"I haven't got any," she said. "I ate all mine up last night after I got into bed. Four-and-twenty I consumed, and I was none the worse this morning."
"You know that was very naughty of you, Star," said Angela.
"My dear, I can't help my propensities; never could. Oh, dear! oh, dear! sometimes I scarcely like to look into the beautiful, kind eyes of our beloved Lavinia, so naughty do I feel. And yet I'm not really naughty. I'm not rabid, I mean; am I, girls?"
"You are a duck and a darling," said Lucy.
"Well, your Satinship, have you got any sweeties, any fondants, any caramels?" interrupted Star.
A few rather sticky ones were produced. Christian suddenly found her voice.
"Do you really care for sweets?" she asked.
"Do we really care for sweets?" cried Star. "Aren't we schoolgirls? What do you mean?"
"Only that I have got such a big box. Miss Thompson bought them for me; and another box full of little cakes."
A wild cheer immediately was given. Handkerchiefs were waved in the air; the girls clapped and laughed until they nearly cried.
"Isn't she worth guarding? Won't we guard her double quick?" said Star. "You angel, we will attack those dainties presently, but now let us pace up and down in this corner of the playground."
"I am to see Miss Peacock at five o'clock," said Christian.
"You lucky young beggar! But, of course, I forgot; first-day girls are always fussed over. You will be all right to-day, Christian; it's to-morrow that the tug-of-war will begin."
Christian was silent for a minute; then she said slowly:
"I thank you four girls very much indeed. I suppose it is safer for me to have you as my friends."
"Safer!" cried Angela. "Having us as yourfriends, you will never, never know what you have escaped."
"But would you mind telling me who the girls are? I mean the specially dreadful girls who are likely to be unkind. If I only knew I should not be so frightened."
"And that information we will never give you, dear genius," replied Star. "If you find out for yourself, alas for you! I only trust you will never find out. There's the tea-gong. Come in now; and you will sit at my table, as you belong to my class."
An hour later Christian found herself in Miss Peacock's presence. Miss Peacock was standing under a rose-colored lamp. She was reading a letter. Suddenly she raised her eyes and saw Christian. Christian was a striking-looking girl. She had a splendid carriage for her age; she held herself very erect, and kept her head well back on her shoulders. Her golden hair shone in the lamp-light. She came slowly forward, her eyes very wide open, her face pale, a look of entreaty round her mouth.
"Ah, Christian!" said Miss Peacock in a kind voice; "and how are you, dear? Are you taking your place in the school?"
"I don't know," replied Christian.
Miss Peacock took no notice of this vacillating remark. She motioned to Christian to seat herself in a shady corner, where she knew the young girl would be more comfortable than when exposed to the full glare of the light.
"I have got a very good report of you from your different mistresses and your music-master, dear," she said. "They all say you are remarkably well advanced for your age. That being the case, you will soon win a character for cleverness. A clever girl is always respected and thought a good deal of; and I trust youwill be respected and looked up to, Christian, and that you will help to bring a good influence into this school—a religious and moral influence, the efficacy of which can never be overrated."
"Oh, please," said Christian, with a little gasp, "you know what I have done!"
Miss Peacock was quite silent for a minute.
"What you did," she then said very gravely, "happened before you came to me."
"I know; but it was because of you—because of coming to the school—that I did it."
Miss Peacock's eyes twinkled for a minute.
"Would you rather discuss the whole thing with me, Christian, or, on the other hand, would you rather let it lie—forget it, cover it up, go straight forward as though it had never been?"
"I think I'd rather discuss it with you. And," continued Christian, "I think I'd rather"—her voice faltered; it sank almost to a whisper—"I think I'd rather the other girls knew."
These words evidently startled Miss Peacock very much.
"You would rather your schoolfellows knew? But it has nothing to do with them."
"There would be nothing then to find out," continued Christian. "As it is, I shall live in fear. Oh! it was good of you—it was sweet of you—to keep it dark; but I think I would rather they knew."
Miss Peacock was amazed. She sat quite still for a minute; then she rose and walked to the other end of the room. She rang a bell, and in a few moments Jessie appeared. Jessie wore the same peculiar expression as she had worn the night before. The look of extreme juvenility, which vanished almost as soon as she began to speak, and her girlish dress, her girlishface, and her non-girlish voice, made her at once both striking and interesting.
"I understand from what Jessie has told me, that you have confided this matter to her, Christian," said Miss Peacock, turning to the young girl.
"I have. I had to; she was so very good to me, I could not let her live under the impression that I had been ill."
"I never gave anyone to understand that you were ill. I simply said that you were unavoidably detained. The girls are at liberty to form their own conclusions."
"There is an idea in the school that I was very ill," said Christian; "and," she added, "I don't like it, for you know"—she raised her clear eyes to Miss Peacock's face—"it is not true. You know it, don't you, Miss Peacock?"
Miss Peacock looked back at her with so intent a gaze that it seemed to the young girl that she was reading her through.
"Come here, Christian," she then said.
Christian rose. She now stood in the full light, and both Miss Peacock and Jessie could see the vivid pink in her cheeks and the brightness of her eyes. There was something about her which impressed them; the wonder on both their faces grew. At last Miss Peacock laid her hand on the girl's shoulder.
"Christian," she said, "you are a remarkably brave girl. You are a great deal braver than you have any idea of yourself. It would not be right to take you at your word without explaining matters. My dear, to have this escapade of yours known in the school would mean——"
"It cannot be known," interrupted Miss Jessie. "Miss Peacock, dear, it must not be known."
"That certainly was my feeling, Jessie; but if the child herself——"
"No, no," repeated Miss Jessie. "Even you, Miss Lavinia, can't guess all that goes on in a school like this."
"I shut my eyes on purpose," said Miss Peacock. "A school is a little world. In that world there must necessarily be evil; without evil good would have nothing to overcome. The brave girls will overcome the evil and rise on the wings of good. I don't want any girl at Penwerne Manor to be subjected to too severe a discipline, however—a discipline which may be greater than the strength of the girl can meet. Now Christian, you have asked me an extraordinary thing. You wish the school to be told about your conduct before you came here. You don't know enough, my dear, to make it possible for me to grant your request—at least yet. But come to me again at the end of a month, and if you still make the same request, I shall have pleasure in giving my own version of the whole affair to the girls of Penwerne Manor. I think that is all, Jessie; you can attend to your usual duties. Christian, come and sit on this stool near me; I should like to talk to you about long ago."
Miss Peacock drew the girl down to a seat close by her side.
"After what you have said, I put you in my own mind on a different footing from the other girls," she remarked. "Now, I am going to tell you something. I felt a great sense of rejoicing and a great sense of personal pleasure when I received a letter from your good father to say that he wished to place you at Penwerne Manor during his absence."
Christian made no reply. She raised her eyes and fixed them on Miss Peacock. Miss Peacock noticedthe frank, earnest look in the large eyes, and she put out her soft, well-formed white hand and smoothed back the hair from Christian's forehead.
"My dear child," she said, "my reason for being so pleased was that I owe, I think I may say, all that is good in my own life to your grandmother."
"To granny?" said Christian, in astonishment. Then she added, "I scarcely ever heard anything of granny until lately, but father spoke of her, and said that I—I wonder if it is true—that I resemble her."
"You are decidedly like her in appearance; only, of course, when I knew her she was an elderly woman. But you are more like her in mind. That was exactly the sort of thing she would have done. She would have been intensely naughty, and then intensely repentant. But there, dear! you are looking tired and flushed. Perhaps you had better go up to your own room early. Be sure you come to me in any difficulty, and regard me as your special friend. Good-night dear, and God bless you."
Christian's head ached; she had gone through a good deal that day. At Penwerne Manor, for all except the Sixth Form girls, supper was a very simple affair. It was held in the refectory at half-past seven, and consisted of bread and butter, stewed fruit, and milk. Christian sat down to the simple meal, but she was not hungry. For the first time she was absolutely thrown on her own resources. Louisa Twining, being one of the Sixth Form girls, was not present at the other girls' supper. Christian's bodyguard was also nowhere to be seen. She sat near a quiet-looking girl of the name of Agnes Temple, but Agnes seemed as much afraid of Christian as Christian was of her, and did not venture to question her at all.
As soon as supper was over the young girl went up to Miss Jessie, who was standing at the top of the room.
"Are you cold, Christian?" said Miss Jessie. "Come and warm yourself by the fire."
"I wanted to know," said Christian, "if I might go to bed; I am tired."
"Certainly, if you like."
But as Miss Jessie spoke she glanced round the room. Suddenly a tall, awkward-looking girl, whom Christian had not noticed before, stood up.
"Has Christian Mitford asked to retire nearly an hour before the usual time?" was her query.
"Certainly, Sukey; and seeing that she is very tired, I am about to give her leave."
"But I am afraid that I, Susan Marsh, and Maud Thompson and Mary Hillary and Janet Bouverie, as well as several others in the school, cannot give Christian Mitford leave to go to bed without the usual ceremony being gone through."
Christian looked with some amazement first at the tall girl, then at Miss Jessie. To her surprise, she noticed that Miss Jessie's face got very red and then very white. The little lady went quickly down the length of the room, and laying a hand on Susan Marsh's shoulder, whispered something in her ear. She had to stand on tiptoe to make her remark, and Susan looked down at her and shook her head gravely. Miss Jessie then turned to the other girls, who also shook their heads. By and by the little lady had to go back again to Christian.
"It can't be helped, Christian, dear," she said. "Every girl goes through it; it is a sort of ordeal which seems to be part and parcel of the Manor. I can, if you wish it, apply to Miss Peacock; but I think I would rather not, and if you are wise you will not do so. It would squash the whole thing, but it would not be for your best happiness."
"Oh, I am not afraid—not really," said Christian; "and please don't say anything to Miss Peacock."
"You are a good girl. Now, the best thing you can do is to appear quite indifferent; then they won't get much fun out of you, and you will be all right."
"What is that about Christian, and having much fun, and being all right?" suddenly said a gay voice; and Star Lestrange, in a pale-blue frock, looking as pretty as a girl could look, danced into the room.
"The usual thing; you know all about it," said Miss Jessie.
"Of course I do; and so does Lucy Norris, and so does Jane Price, and so does Angela Goring."
"So many," said Miss Jessie in a tone of relief.
"Yes, Jessie, my honey, so you may go to bed with an easy mind; your new fledgling won't come to any harm. Now, come along, Christian. You have us four to look after you. We can't appear publicly as your bodyguard, but see if you won't feel our influence."
Christian, in her relief, almost squeezed Star's hand.
"Don't," said Star, who seemed to read her thought in her eyes. "It's not the fashion at Penwerne Manor to show much outward affection. I mean we never kiss, and we don't clasp arms much, or anything of that sort—not until we turn ourselves into what we call 'loverettes.' Sometimes two girls make a great friendship and declare it publicly in the school; then they're dubbed 'loverettes' by their fellows, and are allowed to sit alone, and walk about arm in arm. But that sort of thing doesn't often happen; and, for my part," continued Star, "I hate it."
"And yet I should have thought you were very affectionate," said Christian.
"Should you?" answered Star, favoring her with a full glance, which caused the young girl to shrink into her shoes.
In the corridor outside Susan Marsh was waiting. She had the most peculiar face Christian had ever seen in her life. It was not only plain, it was downright ugly; there was not one feature in harmony with another. She was very tall and very awkward in her movements. Her complexion was of a dull mud color; her hair was a dull, very light brown; her eyes weresmall, her nose broad at the nostrils and veryretroussé, her mouth wide. She had good teeth, but otherwise scarcely a redeeming feature. The expression of her face was as little pleasing as were her features. Nevertheless this girl had an extraordinary power over her fellows; she was never seen without a following, and many a little girl looked at her with a mingling of awe and terror as she waited now for Christian.
"So you are coming, Star," she said. "Well so much the better; we'll have some fun. Cheer up, victim; it's your night to go through the ceremony."
"But what is it?" said Christian.
"You will know, my pretty victim, when the time comes. We always have it in the big attic. It is great fun; it is the most delightful time in our lives. We were all very keen for your arrival, but you don't suppose it was simply for the sake of enjoying the first night of your sweet society? Nothing of the kind. It was on account of the ordeal. The ordeal is such fun!"
"Don't mind half she is saying," said Star Lestrange. "But come along, Christian. It is quite true; there is an ordeal, and you must go through it before you can really be what we pride ourselves on being—a Penwernian."
They now turned and went upstairs, past the nice rooms where the girls' bedrooms were located, and up again some narrow stairs, until, having opened an attic door, Christian found herself in a huge attic which ran right across the front of the house. This room had evidently been got ready for a ceremony. Candles in tin sconces were arranged along the wall; each sconce was fastened in its place by a small tack, and as the girls entered a short, very dark, stoutly built girl was going from one to the other lighting them. Whenthe illumination was at last complete, from twenty to thirty candles were burning in the front attic.
Christian had a curious feeling that she was back again in the attic at home. When she got upstairs her fears suddenly left her. She was to be the heroine of probably a very disagreeable adventure, but had she not herself from her earliest days encountered adventures of all sorts in the attic at home? What thrilling moments had not her dolls lived through? What times of ecstasy had been hers when she was Joan of Arc! Oh, that night when she had imagined herself tied to the stake! Had she not really tied herself to the post of the old bedstead, and had she not crowded round her torn pieces of paper, and shut her eyes, and tried to imagine the upward ascent of the flames? Had she not, finally, almost screamed in her agony, for had not real pains taken possession of her, so vivid and intense had been her imagination?
"After all," she said to herself, "I have my bodyguard, and they do look faithful, and nothing can be worse than what I lived through in imagination before now."
When Christian's eyes grew accustomed to the gloom she perceived that every single girl in the school, except three or four of the sixth form, was present. They seemed to her to have augmented in numbers, and to be a great deal more than the forty girls she had been told lived at Penwerne Manor. They stood about in groups, and all looked eager and pleased.
Christian noticed that a large wooden bowl had been placed upon the ground almost in the center of the attic, and a little straw chair, of a twisted, crooked, rickety, and decrepit nature, stood within a few feet of the wooden bowl. She herself remained near the door, and she was surprised as she entered the room tonotice that Star Lestrange immediately left her and walked right across the attic to the farther end, where she sat down on a turned-up box.
Very soon quick steps were heard running upstairs, and Lucy Norris, looking more smooth and sleek and satiny than ever, joined Star on her box. Jane Price was already standing near, and Angela Goring was the last to arrive. None of the four glanced at Christian, who remained alone, and looking thoroughly miserable, near the door. All of a sudden she felt that she had been subjected to a hoax, and that her bodyguard meant to desert her.
Meanwhile Susan Marsh took her place in the center of the room. She mounted a box, said something to Maud in a low tone, and then Maud took her place by her side.
"All present?" she cried. "Ah, yes! I see. Agnes Temple, stand to one side; you are disgracefully late. Yes, we are all here—all except Louisa Twining, Mary Reid, and Philippa Dawson. Well, the Sixth Form must have its privileges. Now to begin. Who is giving the address to-night? It's your turn, Star, and you are always witty. We want something to stir us up; we're a bit dull, I take it. Come along, now. What, you won't?"
"Not to-night," said Star.
"Does that mean that the new girl, the victim, is your special friend?"
Star shook her head.
"Or your special enemy?"
Again the bright head was shaken.
"She's neuter," said Star; "although I mean to see justice done."
"Then it devolves upon me," said Susan, "to open the function. I must explain the rules of the societyto the victim. Victim, kindly step forward. Seat yourself in this wriggly arm-chair, fix your eyes on my face, and listen to the words of deep, Solomon-like wisdom that drop from my lips."
Christian dropped into the chair, and the other girls looked at her with amazement and admiration. Many a girl before her had wriggled in agony in that small chair, had blushed and quivered and trembled, but Christian's face was quite calm. She looked full up at Susan and smiled.
Nothing in all the world could have been more discomfiting to Susan Marsh than that smile. It was seen by every single girl in the room, and quite a burst of admiration came from Star Lestrange, Lucy Norris, Jane Price, and Angela. Star clapped her hands, and immediately the whole school took up the clap. This from every girl in the place showed that Christian had made a favorable impression.
"Come, come!" said Susan brusquely, and looking more disagreeable than ever; "this noise is very much against the rules. Even those girls who have lived through the ordeal must not disturb the usual proceedings. Now then, Christian Mitford, your age, please?"