The girls at Chepstow House were quite excited at the advent of Audrey
and Evelyn. They were nice girls, nearly all of them; they were ladies,
too, of a good class; but they had not been at Chepstow House long
without coming under the influence of what dominated the entire
place--that big house on the hill, with its castellated roof and its
tower, its moat too, and its big, big gardens, its spacious park, and
all its surroundings. It was a place to talk to their friends at home
about, and to think of and wonder over when at school. The girls at
Chepstow House had often looked with envy at Audrey as she rode by on
her pretty Arab pony. They talked of her to each other; they criticised
her appearance; they praised her actions. She was a sort of princess to
them. Then there appeared on the scene another little princess--a strange
child, without style, without manners, without any personal attractions;
and this child, it was whispered, was the real heiress. By and by pretty
Audrey would cease to live at Castle Wynford, and the little girl with
the extraordinary face would be monarch of all she surveyed. The girls
commented over this story amongst each other, as girls will; and when
the younger Miss Henderson--Miss Lucy, as they called her--told them that
Audrey Wynford and her cousin Evelyn were coming as schoolgirls to
Chepstow House their excitement knew no bounds.
"They are coming here," said Miss Lucy, "and I trust that all you girls
who belong to the house will treat them as they ought to be treated."
"And how is that, Miss Lucy?" said Brenda Fox, the tallest and most
important girl in the school.
"You must treat them as ladies, but at the same time as absolutely your
equals in every respect," said Miss Lucy. "They are coming to school
partly to find their level; we must be kind to them, but there is to be
no difference made between them and the rest of you. Now, Brenda, go
with the other girls into the Blue Parlor and attend to your preparation
for Signor Forre."
Brenda and her companions went away, and during the rest of the day,
whenever they had a spare moment, the girls talked over Audrey and
Evelyn.
The next morning the cousins arrived. They came in Audrey's pretty
governess-cart, and Audrey drove the fat pony herself. A groom took it
back to the Castle, with orders to come for his young ladies at six in
the evening, for Lady Frances had arranged that the girls were to have
both early dinner and tea at school.
They both entered the house, and even Audrey just for a moment felt
slightly nervous. The elder Miss Henderson took them into her private
sitting-room, asked them a few questions, and then, desiring them to
follow her, went down a long passage which led into the large
schoolroom. Here the girls, about forty in number, were all assembled.
Miss Henderson introduced the new pupils with a few brief words. She
then went up to Miss Lucy and asked her, as soon as prayers were over,
to question both Audrey and Evelyn with regard to their attainments, and
to put them into suitable classes.
The Misses Wynford sat side by side during prayers, and immediately
afterwards were taken into Miss Lucy's private sitting-room. Here a very
vigorous examination ensued, with the result that Audrey was promoted to
take her place with the head girls, and Evelyn was conducted to the
Fourth Form. Her companions received her with smiling eyes and beaming
looks. She felt rather cross, however; and was even more so when the
English teacher, Miss Thompson, set her some work to do. Evelyn was
extremely backward with regard to her general education. But Miss
Sinclair had such marvelous tact, that, while she instructed the little
girl and gave her lessons which were calculated to bring out her best
abilities, she never let her feel her real ignorance. At school,
however, all this state of things was reversed. Audrey, calm and
dignified, took a high position in the school; and Evelyn was simply, in
her own opinion, nowhere. A sulky expression clouded her face. She
thought of Jasper's words, and determined that no one should break her
spirit.
"You will read over the reign of Edward I., and I will question you
about it when morning school is over," said Miss Thompson in a pleasant
tone. "After recreation I will give you your lessons to prepare for
to-morrow. Now, please attend to your book. You will be able to take
your proper place in class to-morrow."
Miss Thompson as she spoke handed a History of England to the little
girl. The History was dry, and the reign, in Evelyn's opinion, not worth
reading. She glanced at it, then turned the book, open as it was, upside
down on her desk, rested her elbows on it, and looked calmly around her.
"Take up your book, Miss Wynford, and read it," said Miss Thompson.
Evelyn smiled quietly.
"I know all about the reign," she said. "I need not read the history any
more."
The other girls smiled. Miss Thompson thought it best to take no notice.
The work of the school proceeded; and at last, when recess came, the
English teacher called the little girl to her.
"Now I must question you," she said. "You say you know the reign of
Edward I. Let me hear what you do know. Stand in front of me, please;
put your hands behind your back. So."
"I prefer to keep my hands where they are," said Evelyn.
"Do what I say. Stand upright. Now then!"
Miss Thompson began catechizing. Evelyn's crass ignorance instantly
appeared. She knew nothing whatever of that special period of English
history; indeed, at that time her knowledge of any history was
practically _nil_.
"I am sorry you told me what was not true with regard to the reign of
Edward I.," said the governess. "In this school we are very strict and
particular. I will say nothing further on the matter to-day; but you
will stay here and read over the history during recess."
"What!" cried Evelyn, her face turning white. "Am I not to have my
recreation?"
"Recess only lasts for twenty minutes; you will have to do without your
amusement in the playground this morning. To-morrow I hope you will have
got through your lessons well and be privileged to enjoy your pastime
with the other pupils."
"Do you know who I am?" began Evelyn.
"Yes--perfectly. You are little Evelyn Wynford. Now be a good girl,
Evelyn, and attend to your work."
Miss Thompson left the room. Evelyn found herself alone. A wild fury
consumed her. She jumped up.
"Does she think for a single moment that I am going to obey her?"
thought the naughty child. "Oh, if only Jasper were here! Oh Jasper! you
were right; they are trying to break me in, but they won't succeed."
A book which the governess had laid upon a table near attracted the
little girl's attention. It was not an ordinary lesson-book, but a very
beautiful copy of Ruskin's _Sesame and Lilies_. Evelyn took up the book,
opened it, and read the following words on the title-page:
"To dear Agnes, from her affectionate brother Walter. Christmas Day,
1896."
Quick as thought the angry child tore out the title-page and two or
three other pages at the beginning, scattered them into little bits, and
then, going up to the fire which burned at one end of the long room,
flung the scattered fragments into the blaze. She had no sooner done so
than a curious sense of dismay stole over her. She shut up the book
hastily, and being really alarmed, began to look over her English
history. Miss Thompson came back just before recess was over, picked up
Evelyn's book, asked her one or two questions, and gave her an approving
nod.
"That is better," she said. "You have done as much as I could expect in
the time. Now then, come here, please. These are your English lessons
for to-morrow."
Evelyn walked quite meekly across the room. Miss Thompson set her
several lessons in the ordinary English subjects.
"And now," she said, "you are to go to mademoiselle. She is waiting to
find out what French you know, and to give you your lesson for
to-morrow."
The rest of the school hours passed quickly. Evelyn was given what she
considered a disgraceful amount of work to do; but a dull fear sat at
her heart, and she felt a sense of regret at having torn the pages out
of the volume of Ruskin. Immediately after morning school the girls went
for a short walk, then dinner was announced, and after dinner there was
a brief period of freedom. Evelyn, Audrey, and the rest all found
themselves walking in the grounds. Brenda Fox immediately went up to
Audrey, and introduced her to a few of the nicest girls in the head
form, and they all began to pace slowly up and down. Evelyn stood just
for an instant forlorn; then she dashed into the midst of a circle of
little girls who were playing noisily together.
"Stop!" she said. "Look at me, all of you."
The children stopped playing, and looked in wonder at Evelyn.
"I am Evelyn Wynford. Who is going to be my friend? I shall only take up
with the one I really like. I am not afraid of any of you. I have come
to school to find out if I like it; if I don't like it I shall not stay.
You had best, all of you, know what sort I am. It was very mean and
horrid to put me into the Fourth Form with a number of ignorant little
babies; but as I am there, I suppose I shall have to stay for a week or
so."
"You were put into the Fourth Form," said little Sophie Jenner,
"because, I suppose, you did not know enough to be put into the Fifth
Form."
"You are a cheeky little thing," said Evelyn, "and I am not going to
trouble myself to reply to you.--Well, now, who is going to be my friend?
I can tell you all numbers of stories; I have heaps of pocket-money, and
I can bring chocolate-creams and ginger-pop and all sorts of good things
to the school."
These last remarks were decidedly calculated to ensure Evelyn's
popularity. Two or three of the girls ran up to her, and she was soon
marching up and down the playground relating some of her grievances, and
informing them, one and all, of the high position which lay before her.
"You are all very much impressed with Audrey, I can see, but she is
really nobody," cried Eve. "By and by Wynford Castle will be mine, and
won't you like to say you knew me when I am mistress of the Castle--won't
you just! I do not at all know that I shall stay long at school, but you
had better make it pleasant for me."
Some of the girls were much impressed, and a few of them swore eternal
fealty to Evelyn. One or two began to flatter her, and on the whole the
little girl considered that she had a fairly good time during play-hour.
When she got back to her work she was relieved to see that Ruskin's
_Sesame and Lilies_ no longer lay in its place on the small table where
Miss Thompson had left it.
"She will not open it, perhaps, for years," thought Evelyn. "I need not
worry any more about that. And if she did like the book I am glad I tore
it. Horrid, horrid thing!"
Lessons went on, and by and by Audrey and Evelyn's first day at school
came to an end. The governess-cart came to fetch them, and they drove
off under the admiring gaze of several of their fellow-pupils.
"Well, Evelyn, and how did you like school?" said Audrey when the two
were alone together.
"You could not expect me to like it very much," replied Evelyn. "I was
put into such a horrid low class. I am angry with Miss Thompson."
"Miss Thompson! That nice, intelligent girl?"
"Not much of a girl about her!" said Evelyn. "Why, she is quite old."
"Do you think so? She struck me as young, pretty, and very nice."
"It is all very well for you, Audrey; you are so tame. I really believe
you never think a bad thought of anybody."
"I try not to, of course," replied Audrey. "Do you imagine it is a fine
trait in one's character to think bad thoughts of people?"
"Mothery always said that if you did not dislike people, you were made
of cotton-wool," replied Evelyn.
"Then you really do dislike people?"
"Oh! some I dislike awfully. Now, there is one at the Castle--but there!
I won't say any more about _her_; and there is one at school whom I
hate. It is that horrid Thompson woman. And she had the cheek to call me
Evelyn."
"Of course she calls you Evelyn; you are her pupil."
"Well, I think it is awful cheek, all the same. I hate her, and--oh,
Audrey, such fun--such fun! I have revenged myself on her; I really
have."
"Oh Evelyn! don't get into mischief, I beseech of you."
"I sha'n't say any more, but I do believe that I have revenged myself.
Oh, such fun--such fun!"
Evelyn laughed several times during the rest of her drive home, and
arrived at the Castle in high spirits. The girls were to dine with Lady
Frances and the Squire that evening, as they happened to be alone; and
the Squire was quite interested in the account which Evelyn gave him of
her class.
"The only reason why I could read the dull, dull life of Edward I.," she
said, "is because Edward is your name, Uncle Ned, and because I love you
so much."
"On the whole, my dear," said the Squire later on to his wife, "the
school experiment seems to work well. Little Evelyn was in high spirits
to-night."
"You think of no one but Evelyn!" said Lady Frances. "What about
Audrey?"
"I am not afraid about Audrey; you have trained her, and she is by
nature most amiable," said the Squire.
"I am glad you paid me a compliment, my dear," answered his wife.
"Audrey certainly does credit to my training. But I trust Miss Henderson
will break that naughty girl in; she certainly needs it."
The next morning the girls went back to school; and Evelyn, who had
quite forgotten what she had done to the book, and who had provided
herself secretly with a great packet of delicious sweetmeats which she
intended to distribute amongst her favorites, was still in high spirits.
School began, the girls went to their different classes, Evelyn stumbled
badly through her lessons, and at last the hour of recess came. The
girls were all preparing to leave the schoolroom when Miss Thompson
asked them to wait a moment.
"Something most painful has occurred," she said, "and I trust whichever
girl has done the mischief will at once confess it."
Evelyn's face did not change color. A curious, numb feeling got round
her heart; then an obstinate spirit took possession of her.
"Not for worlds will I tell," she thought. "Of course Miss Thompson is
alluding to the book."
Yes, Miss Thompson was. She held the beautifully bound copy of Ruskin in
her hand, opened it where the title-page used to be, and with tears in
her eyes looked at the girls.
"Some one has torn four pages out of the beginning of this book," she
said. "I left it here by mistake yesterday. I took it up this morning to
continue a lecture which I was preparing for the afternoon, and found
what terrible mischief had been done. I trust whoever has done this will
at least have the honor to confess her wrong-doing."
Silence and expressions of intense dismay were seen on all the young
faces.
"If it were my own book I should not mind so much," said the governess;
"but it happens to belong to Miss Henderson, and was given to her by her
favorite brother, who died two months afterwards. I had some difficulty
in getting her to allow me to use it for this lecture. Nothing can
replace to her the loss of the inscription written in her brother's own
hand. The only possible chance for the guilty person is to tell all at
once. But, oh! who could have been so cruel?"
Still the girls were silent, although tears had risen to many of their
eyes. Miss Thompson could hear the words "Oh, what a shame!" coming from
more than one pair of lips.
She waited for an instant, and then said:
"I must put a question to each and all of you. I had hoped the guilty
person would confess; but as it is, I am obliged to ask who has done
this mischief."
She then began to question one girl after another in the class. There
were twelve in all in this special class, and each as her turn came
replied in the negative. Certainly she had not done the mischief;
certainly she had not torn the book. Evelyn's turn came last. She
replied quietly:
"I have not done it. I have not seen the book, and I have not torn out
the inscription."
No one had any reason to doubt her words; and Miss Thompson, looking
very sorrowful, paused for a minute and then said:
"I have asked each of you, and you have all denied it. I must now
question every one else in the school. When I have done all that I can I
shall have to submit the matter to Miss Henderson, but I did not want to
grieve her with the news of this terrible loss until I could at least
assure her that the girl who had done the mischief had repented."
Still there was silence, and Miss Thompson left the schoolroom. The
moment she did so the buzz of eager voices began, and during the recess
that followed nothing was talked of in the Fourth Form but the loss
which poor Miss Henderson had sustained.
"Poor dear!" said Sophie Jenner; "and she did love her brother so much!
His name was Walter; he was very handsome. He came once to the school
when first it was started. My sister Rose was here then, and she said
how kind he was, and how he asked for a holiday for the girls; and Miss
Henderson and Miss Lucy were quite wrapped up in him. Oh, who could have
been so cruel?"
"I never heard of such a fuss about a trifle before," here came from
Evelyn's lips. "Why, it is only a book when all is said and done."
"Don't you understand?" said Sophie, looking at her in some
astonishment. "It is not a common book; it is one given to Miss
Henderson by the brother she loved. He is dead now; he can never give
her any other book. That was the very last present he ever made her."
"Have some lollipops, and try to think of cheerful things," said Evelyn;
but Sophie turned almost petulantly away.
"Do you know," Sophie said to her special friend, Cherry Wynne, "I don't
think I like Evelyn. How funnily she spoke! I wonder, Cherry, if she had
anything to do with the book?"
"Of course not," answered Cherry. "She would not have dared to utter
such a lie. Poor Miss Henderson! How sorry I am for her!"