Thomasina led the way into her study, and shut the door behind her. It
was a bare little room, singularly free from those photographs and nick-
nacks with which most girls love to adorn a private sanctum. It looked
what it was--a workroom pure and simple, with a pile of writing
materials on the table, and the walls ornamented with maps and sheets of
paper, containing jottings of the hours of classes and games. On the
mantelpiece reposed a ball of string, a dogskin glove, a matchbox, and a
photograph of an elderly gentleman, whose pike-like aspect sufficiently
proclaimed his relationship. There were three straight-back chairs,
supplied by the school, and two easier ones of Thomasina's own
providing, both in the last stages of invalidism.
The mistress of this luxurious domain turned towards her visitor with a
hospitable smile.
"Sit down," she cried, "make yourself comfortable. Not that chair--the
spokes have given way, and it might land you on the floor. Try the
blue, and keep your skirts to the front, so that it won't catch on the
nails. I can't think how it is that my chairs go wrong. I'm always
tinkering at them. Nice little study, isn't it? So cosy!"
"Ye-es!" assented Rhoda, who privately thought it the most forlorn-
looking apartment she had ever seen, but was in no mood to discuss
either its merits or demerits. It was in no friendly spirit that she
had paid this visit; then why waste time on foolish preliminaries? She
looked expectantly at Thomasina, and Thomasina stood in front of the
chimney-piece with both hands thrust into the side pockets of her
bicycling skirt, jingling their contents in an easy, gentlemanly
fashion. From her leathern band depended a steel chain which lost
itself in the depths of the right-hand pocket. Rhoda felt an
unaccountable curiosity to discover what hung at the end of that chain
and rattled in so uncanny a fashion.
"Well!" began Thomasina, tilting herself slowly forward on the points of
her flat, wide shoes, "Well, and now about this little matter. I asked
you to step in here because I think differences of opinion are more
easily settled without an audience, and as it were, man to man." She
buried her chin in her necktie, and gazed across the room with a calm,
speculative glance. The likeness between her and the pike-like
gentleman grew more startling every moment. "Now, we have known each
other barely a week, and already I have offended you deeply, and you,
without knowing it, have hit me on a tender spot. It is time that we
came to an understanding. Before going any further, however, there are
one or two questions I should like to ask. You have had time to notice
a good many things since you arrived. You have seen me constantly with
the girls. Do they dislike me? Do they speak of me hardly behind my
back? Do they consider me a bully or a sneak? Should you say on the
whole that I was popular or unpopular?"
"Popular!" said Rhoda firmly. Whatever happened she would speak the
truth, and not quibble with obvious facts. "They like you very much."
"And you wonder how they can, eh? Nevertheless it's true. I'll tell
you something more. I'm the most popular Head Girl at Hurst. You ask
the other colours to-morrow, and they'll tell you to a man that you are
lucky to have me. Very well then, Rhoda, who's to blame if you think
the opposite? Yourself, and nobody but yourself, as I'll proceed to
prove. You come to school with a flourish of trumpets, thinking you are
doing us a mighty big favour by settling among us, and that you are to
be allowed to amble along at your own sweet will, ignoring rules you
don't like, graciously agreeing to those you do, and prepared to turn
into a wild cat the first moment any one tries to keep you in order.
Then, when you are unhappy, as you jolly well deserve to be, you turn
and rend me, and say it is my fault. If all the new girls behaved as
you have done, I should have been in my little tomb long ago, and you
would have some one else to deal with. It seems to me, my dear, that
you don't recognise my duties. I am placed in a position of authority,
and am bound to enforce the rules. If the girls are obedient, well and
good; if they kick, well and good also. _I break 'em in_! I'm going to
break _you_ in, Rhoda Chester, and the sooner you realise it the happier
you'll be."
Rhoda looked at her fully, with a firmness of chin, a straightness of
eye, which argued ill for the success of the project.
"You will never break me in, as you call it, by domineering, and
treating me like a child."
"I know it, my dear. I haven't been studying girls all these years
without learning something of character. Some fillies you can drive
with a snaffle, others need the curb. You drive yourself, and
understand what I mean. I can see quite well that you are a proud,
sensitive girl, with a good heart hidden away behind a lot of nonsense.
If it were not for that heart I shouldn't trouble myself about you, but
simply give my orders, and see that they were obeyed. But there's
nothing mean about me, and I'd scorn to take an unfair advantage. Now,
I'll tell you straight that I have come to the conclusion that I judged
you wrongly about that pony business, and that you didn't mean to brag.
I saw by the way you flared out that you were really hurt, and I was
sorry. I've no pity on brag, but when I judge a girl wrongly I feel
sick. If it's any relief to your mind to know it, I believe that little
episode upset me more than it did you. When you said I was not worthy
of my position, and made new-comers wretched, you hit me very hard,
Rhoda, very hard indeed!"
She stopped short and jingled furiously at her chains, then suddenly
looked up, gave a roguish smile, and cried, insinuatingly--
"There, I've done my part. I've acknowledged I was wrong. You are no
coward, so you will do as much! You will admit that you have been a
difficult subject, won't you now?"
Rhoda looked at her and hesitated. She cleared her throat and
determined to speak openly, and then suddenly, suddenly, something
swelled at her throat, and she heard her own voice say chokingly:
"I suppose I've been stupid... I've never been accustomed to be--
ordered about! I'm sorry if I was disagreeable, but I never, never
meant to--give myself airs!"
"But you did though, all the same," cried Thomasina briskly. "Bless me,
yes! The way you came into a room, the way you walked out, the way you
looked at your food, and turned it over on your plate, the way you eyed
the other girls up and down, down and up--it all said as plainly as
print `I'm Her Royal Highness of Chester, and I won't have any dealings
with the likes of _You_!' If you had been a Princess of the blood you
couldn't have put on more side, and so, of course, we judged your words
by your actions, and thought you were bragging when you meant nothing of
the sort. Now, just make up your mind, like a sensible girl, to forget
your own importance, and don't always be on the lookout for insults to
your dignity. Your dignity will look after itself if it's any good, and
you'll be a heap happier if you give up coddling and fussing over it all
day long. There was that little matter of the pigtail the other
morning! It wasn't my wish that you should tie back your hair. I don't
mind telling you that it's much less becoming than it was, but I was
simply acting as the mouthpiece of Miss Bruce, as you might have known
if you had taken one minute to consider. Your friend, Dorothy What-
ever-she-calls-herself, behaved like a sensible girl, and did as she was
told without making a fuss, but you must needs work yourself into a
fury. You'll have a fit one of these days if you are not careful. You
are just one of those fair, reddy people who are subject to apoplexy, so
don't say I didn't warn you. When we went down to breakfast I tried to
be friendly, just to show there was no ill-feeling, and you went and
starved yourself rather than accept a crumb from my hands. It reminded
me awfully of my little cousin of three. When he is made to do what he
doesn't like, he refuses to eat his bread and milk. He seems to think
he is punishing us somehow; but, bless your heart, _we_ don't mind! We
know he is strong and hearty, and that it will do him no harm to starve
once in a way. I wasn't in the least anxious about you, but I don't
want you to go on feeling wretched in my house, so I'll do my best to
consider your feelings. I warn you, however, I can't stop chaffing. If
I think of a funny thing to say, I _must_ say it or burst, and if you
don't like it you can comfort yourself by thinking that it's for your
good, and will teach you to control your temper. If you get offended
after this, the more fool you, for I tell you straight there will be no
ill-feeling in my mind, nothing but simple, pure buffoonery."
Rhoda smiled feebly. The cool, unemotional tones of the other had
effectually dried her tears, but the softened expression remained, and
her voice had almost an humble intonation.
"I'll try. I know I am touchy, but I shan't mind so much now that you--
that you have explained! I think you have been very generous."
"All right," interrupted Thomasina briskly. "Don't gush. I loathe
gush. That's all right, then, and I'll tell the girls I was wrong just
now. They will all treat you decently if I tell them to; so behave
sensibly, and don't be a young jackass, and all will be well."
"I--er, I _beg_ your pardon!"
"Don't mention it!" Thomasina beamed amiably over her shoulder.
"Jackass, I said--don't be a jackass! The gong will ring in ten
minutes, so you'd better be off to your room. Pleased to have seen you!
Good afternoon. Come again another day!"