CHAPTER XV

JUNE SHOWERS

THE next two weeks were the busiest and the happiest that Judith had

ever known. It would have been a joy merely to be alive on such blue,

unclouded days of golden sunshine. Even examination tests, which she

still dreaded, were bringing with them a curious happiness.

"I don't know how it is," Judith confided to the crew of the "Jolly

Susan" one morning as bed-making was in progress, "but there is

something nice about exams after all."

"Nice!" came from Josephine and Jane,--"Nice!"

"Well, it may be all very well for you if you want to show off how much

ancient history you've crammed up," said Sally May rather crossly; "I

don't see anything nice about them. I hate this ancient history, silly

old names! I don't know who won one of these battles"--and she continued

to mutter to herself a list of battles of the Peloponnesian War, which

she was memorizing in preparation for the history test.

"But," Judith persisted, "there is something nice about them; it must be

measuring ourselves against others and doing our very best, just like

the high jumping on Field Day. Now you know very well you enjoyed that,"

she continued, going to Josephine's door and noting with surprise that

Josephine was actually cleaning her white shoes.

"'Course," said Josephine; "ça va sans dire. Ha! Thought I'd make you

open your eyes quoting French as to the manner born, and cleaning shoes

into the bargain! Mademoiselle made me learn five phrases--had to write

them out a hundred times. What I say is, lessons are lessons, and

jumping is jumping; one's nasty and t'other's nice if you like."

Judith was interested in Josephine's French.

"Let's have the other phrases, Josephine."

"Not me," answered Josephine elegantly. "Moi, I shall scatter them about

gracefully. Dad will probably think I'm well-educated when I go home,

and if I'm tidy, too, my mother will be perfectly satisfied."

"Well, you'd better begin on your room," said Jane who had joined them.

"I notice, Miss Burley, that you received 'C' and a disorderly mark

last week, and friend Genevieve says that Miss Watson is on the war-path

this week."

"Miss Marlowe says I'm incorrigible," said Josephine, sadly shaking her

head. "Heigho! It's hard luck being born so careless; I get blamed for

everything. 'Eh bien! mademoiselle,' I shall say gently the next time

I'm reproved, 'Je ferai mon possible!' and by means of these choice

little French phrases and a perfectly clean pair of shoes, my reputation

will improve. Voyez!"

Every spare moment was being spent out-of-doors these days, so Sally May

and Judith took their history books out under Judith's favorite acacia

trees, and Judith good-naturedly, for every moment was precious, gave

Sally May a half-hour's grind on her ancient history before morning

school. When the ten-minute bell rang, their books were closed with a

bang almost before the bell had ceased, and they were dancing and

leaping and running across the lawn and round the tennis courts, where

they ran into Nancy.

"Just think!" she cried, "Margaret Leslie is going to be house mother

for the Old Girls this year, and she says that there are about a

hundred out-of-town girls coming to the Reunion, and of course there'll

be heaps of town girls. Won't it be heavenly?"--and she hopped on one

foot for joy. Then the three had a race to the schoolroom door. Middies

and bloomers simply compel one to run and scamper.

Judith thought about the Reunion as the form filed in silently to

prayers. Nancy had talked about it all year; she thought it the happiest

time of the year, and as she had been at York Hill all her school days

she would know a number of the girls who were coming back.

"They are here for four days," Nancy had told her, "so we just pack

those days full. There's the Reunion tea, and the grandchildren's party,

and the suppers and the plays, and then Sunday and prize-giving. I get

so happy I feel that I'll burst if I'm not careful."

Form Five were already hard at work on their songs for the supper party;

Judith was to respond to a toast. The play was well under way by

Easter-time, as Judith knew, for she was a hard-working member of the

Properties Committee. What she did not know was that her name had been

seriously considered for one of the parts and Catherine and Eleanor had

strongly urged her fitness. But Miss Marlowe had cautioned them: "Judith

has had a good first year, but I'm not sure that a prominent part in

another play wouldn't spoil it for her. Remember she had an important

part at Christmas-time. Don't turn her head." Eleanor saw the point and

Judith was instead put on the committee where she was doing good work.

This year there was the added delight of the wedding. Last night Miss

Meredith had given the invitations, and the School, you may be sure,

would "accept with pleasure."

Form Five A held a meeting at recess time. They must get Miss Ashwell a

wedding present.

"Form Two and Form Four are going to give her a hankie shower," said

Joyce Hewson, "and Patricia told me that the Sixth Form is going to give

her a linen shower."

"And Domestic Science are having a kitchen shower," joined in Frances.

"I don't see what there's left for us."

Books were suggested, but voted down. "Besides, we haven't enough

money," said Nancy, "Miss Meredith said we mustn't spend much."

Nancy wanted to put the money into a lump sum and buy one nice thing, a

picture or a piece of silver or something like that. But the majority of

the girls favoured the shower idea. A tea-cup shower was discussed, and

seemed to be the most popular of all the plans yet made, when Peggy said

she believed the Staff were buying china. She and her mother had met

three of the Staff in Smith's on Saturday morning, and she guessed from

what they said that that was what they doing.

Judith had been thinking--what would Miss Ashwell like? What does she

like to do? And a picture flashed into her mind of Miss Ashwell in

garden hat and gloves snipping Miss Meredith's rosebushes and talking to

Judith about Gloire de Dijons, and Frau Druschkis and Prince Ruperts and

Lady Ursulas, as if they were intimate friends. Judith jumped up

excitedly.

"Madam President," she said eagerly, "why shouldn't we have a flower

shower? I mean plants, rosebushes and Canterbury bells and lilacs if

they haven't got 'em, and maybe a cherry tree," she added as the plan

grew before her eyes.

Pros and cons were discussed. Perhaps "White Cottage" already had a

good garden. No, she had heard the Major say--here Judith blushed and

stammered as she heard Jane observe, "Great friend of the Major's is

Judy"--that the garden was no good; anyway, they could find out. Perhaps

Miss Meredith would find out for them.

"But it'll be too late to plant cherry trees and lilac bushes," objected

Alicia Harris, who was a practical gardener and had been a steady worker

in the War Garden Committee. That was so!

Besides, the bride and groom were going to France and what would the

garden do in the meantime? Judith looked quite blank. Just when it had

seemed such a lovely plan! She could see the climbing rose she meant to

give and had already congratulated herself on asking for some extra

pocket money for the last term. But Nancy came to the rescue.

"I know; let's give the money and the order for the flowers or bushes to

a florist and ask him to set them out in the proper time in the fall,

and we'll give Miss Ashwell a card with the name of the flowers we have

chosen, and, oh, then we could have rhymes. We'd put 'Violets' on the

card and then--

"'The rose is red, the violet's blue,

Honey is sweet and so are you'--

and then our own name so she'd know who gave her the violets. I'd like

to give her violets myself," she added.

But Rosamond had a more practical suggestion still.

"Let's get the little wooden tags that the florists use and put on them

the name of the flower, and the giver's name, and then we could tie

another little paper tag to them with the rhyme on it."

This was received with applause and the resolution was put to the vote

and carried enthusiastically. Judith looked admiringly at Nancy and

Rosamond as the meeting broke up and wondered how they could think of

such clever things, and was surprised and delighted after the meeting

when Nancy slipped her arm through hers and whispered:

"Bully for you, Judy; I don't know how you think of such clever things."

Next day there was another Form meeting and a committee was

appointed--Judy was glad that she was chosen--to get permission to go

downtown and enquire prices at the florists. Five B and Five C, whose

Presidents applied to Nancy for ideas, decided to further the scheme by

buying fruit bushes, raspberries, strawberries, currants, gooseberries,

and young fruit trees, and Miss Watson, who was Five C's Form Mistress,

proved a very useful ally, for a distant relative was a partner in one

of the biggest wholesale florist establishments and she offered to take

the committee there and get the plants at the lowest possible rates. Her

sudden popularity and the feeling of importance which pervaded her at

each of the many consultations during the next few days (for it turned

out that Miss Watson had been brought up in a beautiful old garden at

home in Scotland) were to remain delectable memories for many a long

day.

A 'phone message brought wonderful catalogues from MacIver & Watson, and

for a day or two the Fifth Form presented a very studious appearance.

Groups of two or three might be seen in sitting-room or playroom and

out-of-doors on the quadrangle poring over books, but the interested

teachers who observed this phenomenon also noticed that the books they

earnestly perused were richly and gaudily illustrated.

Judith had to give up her cherished notion of a climbing rose, because

the rest of the "Jolly Susan" were determined to give Canterbury bells.

The proposal had come from Jane. "They're blue and that's the sailor's

colour and bells are nautical too." So Judith gave in gracefully and the

five of them pooled their contributions and stipulated what they wanted,

a row of Canterbury bells in the perennial border. Nancy was strong on

perennials. "We don't want flowers that will die off," she said

emphatically, "but something that will come up every year."

"Won't it be nice!" said Judith. "One spring morning the Major will come

in to breakfast with the cheerful news, 'Spring has come, my dear, the

Peggy Forrest (her violets, you know) are coming up under the birch

tree. Come and see them.'"

"And Mrs. Major," finished Nancy, laughing, "will say, 'Please sit down,

the coffee will be cold in another minute.'"

Saturday morning saw the delegation packed into the school motor off to

town under the chaperonage of Miss Watson. No one noticed now, you may

be sure, how many _r's_ the good lady rolled and her reminiscences of

"Roses I have known" were received with the greatest respect. It took

them a long time to decide, even with their lists culled from the

catalogues and suggestions obtained from Jennings, but finally every one

was satisfied, and they carried off a box full of the little wooden tags

which Rosamond had wisely suggested.

The business in hand being disposed of, their thoughts turned with

amazing promptness to ice-cream. Now according to custom permission

might be desired (probably) and received (possibly) for ice-cream after

a special visit into town during the week, but on Saturday mornings the

shopping party were under instructions to return home promptly when the

necessary "shopping" was completed. This expedition seemed to come under

neither heading; true, it was Saturday morning, but then it was not the

regular shopping party. After some whispered coaxing, Nancy was

prevailed upon to put the delicate question to Miss Watson. She summoned

her sweetest and most guileless smile as she broached the subject, but

Miss Watson was ready for her. "I was sure you'd ask, so I got

permission from Miss Marlowe for you to have one dish at Huyler's or

Page & Shaw's. We'll have to hurry." Miss Watson's popularity was

complete!

The committee worked hard for an hour after lunch, but finally the last

of the tags was allotted and distributed, and those who were going out

were exhorted not to come back without their rhymes, as they must be

ready for Monday. Miss Meredith had issued orders that Miss Ashwell, who

was relieved of all school duties for this last week, must be quite free

after Tuesday, so the showers were to be held on Monday and Tuesday. The

staff were having a supper-party on Saturday night when the china was to

be presented, and altogether Miss Ashwell was to be a much-fêted person.

"Of course the Old Girls will do something nice," said Nancy--"trust

them. I guess Susanne is waiting until the out-of-town girls come. Miss

Ashwell has been secretary of the Old Girls for two years, so she

specially belongs to them. I wonder what they will do."

The next week was packed full to overflowing with good times. First came

the kitchen shower which the Domestic Science Form had planned as their

share in the festivities.

Judith and Nancy were not invited to the party, but they coaxed Helen to

let them see the big clothes-basket full of mysterious little parcels

looking very bride-like in their white tissue and satin ribbons.

"Miss Ashwell has got to guess what's in each one," explained Helen

importantly as she cut cake, "and if she doesn't guess right, the parcel

belongs to Major Phillips. Well, just a small piece, Nancy; here, Judy,

you can have the plate to scrape."

The two were still busily scraping chocolate icing out of a bowl when

the strains of the wedding march were heard in the next room, and,

peeping through the crack of the kitchen door, they beheld a rather

flustered-looking Miss Ashwell trying to guess the first parcel.

Helen shooed them off, declaring they had no manners at all, and that

they had better see that they were ready for their own party.

Judith and Nancy were indignant at the implication that they were not

well prepared for the morrow, but just before "Lights out" bell sounded,

Judith asked Sally May to let her see the rhyme for the Canterbury bells

tag.

"Why--I thought you and Nancy were doing it. I heard you trying to get a

rhyme for 'Susan.'"

"Well, we couldn't," said Judith weakly; "I thought you had one written

already."

"We'll have to get up at six o'clock, every one of us," declared Nancy;

"put a pencil and paper beside your bed; each of us has got to have a

rhyme and then we'll choose the best."

There was much yawning and stifled groaning next morning, but Nancy was

firm and refused to retire to her own cubicle until she had seen each

member of the crew provided with pencil and paper.

The fires of poetic genius burned low at such an early morning hour, but

they knew, as well as Nancy did, that there would be no time after

breakfast. So after much frowning and biting of pencils, five verses

were written, and handed to Catherine to choose the best.

It was an exciting afternoon. There was a Senior cricket match being

played and the Fifth-Formers were loath to lose one minute of that.

Judith and Nancy were especially keen to watch Catherine's play. They

would dash over to the match for ten minutes, and then race off to

squeeze lemons, or see if the cakes had come, and then back again to the

match.

Josephine and Joyce had made a huge bouquet of tea-roses interspersed

with samples of the trees and shrubs and flowers which were to be

planted in the "White Cottage" garden. Day girls had been requested to

bring samples of cherry trees and gooseberry bushes and such things as

were not to be found at York Hill. It was a somewhat curious-looking

bouquet, however, for to each spray was attached a little wooden tag

bearing the donor's name, and a bit of paper with the accompanying

rhyme.

Miss Ashwell looked adorably pretty, they all agreed, when she and Miss

Meredith joined them in the latter's garden after the cricket match. The

guests were escorted to the wicker chairs under the trees and the girls

seated themselves on rugs.

There was a moment's pause. Miss Ashwell confessed afterwards to a

feeling of nervousness as to what was going to happen to her, for the

day before, without a moment's notice, she had been literally showered

with hankies by the little First-Formers. However, Sally May was

discovered on her feet about to make a speech. Sally May, usually so

glib of tongue, moistened her lips several times, and then, holding out

the bouquet, she delivered at breakneck speed the little speech which

she had composed--and fortunately memorized--for the occasion.

"Had the fright of my life, my dear," she whispered to Judith

afterwards. "I felt like Alice in Wonderland growing taller and taller

every moment--expected to be lost in the tree-tops. I'll never, never,

never try to make a speech again."

Miss Meredith, who had also been presented with a bunch of lovely roses,

leaned forward to examine Miss Ashwell's.

"Yours seems to be an unusually interesting bouquet, my dear," she

observed. "May I see one of those butterflies? He seems to be on an

apple-tree bough." And unfolding the wings of the butterfly--the

butterflies were Five B's idea--she read:

"Drifting from the apple boughs, foam of pink and white

Rippling through the branches in the green spring light;

All the elfin breezes in the world, you see,

Have come to play at snowflakes in your apple tree."

"_Your_ apple tree! how charming!" said Miss Meredith; "who is the fairy

godmother who is going to give you such a fascinating tree?" And taking

up the little wooden tag she read, "St. Lawrence Apple, Frances Purdy."

"Miss Ashwell must read the next one," said Joyce after Frances's rhyme

had been applauded, and she grinned rather wickedly as Miss Ashwell

took the green branch held out to her and read the tag:

"Black currants, you know,

In your garden which grow,

Have more uses than perhaps you would think;

When hubby's in bed, with a cold in his head,

You may give him a black-currant drink."

Miss Ashwell's cheeks were as pink as the lovely rose from whose stalk

she hurriedly took the next verse:

"Roses pink and white and nodding,

Roses drenched with dew;

What would you have but roses

By a cottage built for two?"

Rosamond's effort was the signal for a burst of merriment:

"This bush will bring you wit and mirth,

You'll happy be and merry,

For in your house you'll never have

A goose, but nice goose-berry."

"I wanted to say gooseberry pies," said Rosamond, "but it wouldn't

rhyme." And she couldn't understand why their laughter was redoubled.

The crew of the "Jolly Susan" were becoming uneasy. Would Miss Ashwell

overlook the bluebells in Five A's bouquet? Nancy held up the flowers

for Miss Ashwell to choose, and rather ostentatiously turned the

bluebells towards her, but she perversely chose Olivia's pansies. Five

o'clock had rung and the maids were crossing the lawn with trays of the

inevitable cake and lemonade. The crew felt desperate. Perhaps it was a

case of telepathy, for, with her hand hovering over Marjorie's

hollyhocks, Miss Ashwell seemed to change her mind and took up instead

the bluebells:

"Bells from a crew of pirates bold

That sail the 'Jolly Susan,'

With bells the time is always told

When our good ship's a-cruisin,'

Heave-aho, my laddies, oh,

All the bells are swinging,

Flower-bells and ship bells, for your wedding ringing."

"They are to be Canterbury bells really," explained Josephine to Miss

Ashwell as the lemonade was being served and the rest of the tags were

being passed about so that they might all be read. "We hope you'll plant

them in a long row: Canterbury was an awfully hard word to put into a

poem, you know."

"It's the nicest verse of all," declared Miss Ashwell. "They'll be

lovely in a row. What a garden I'm going to have!"

Nancy and Judith lingered after the party broke up. They made themselves

very busy clearing away lemonade glasses and stray chairs just out of

earshot of Miss Ashwell and Miss Meredith, who were talking busily. They

hoped within themselves that Miss Meredith would depart, and Judith

hoped that Nancy would go, and Nancy hoped that Judith would go.

But the five-thirty bell sounded and Nancy reluctantly went off to a

music-lesson. Judith gathered up some bits of paper under a peony bush

and with a sigh of relief saw Miss Meredith hurry away. Now was her

chance. She waylaid Miss Ashwell at the door.

"Oh, Judy, it's been the loveliest party ever," said Miss Ashwell,

putting her arm round Judith and giving her a happy little hug; "the

nicest party I ever was at. However did you think of it all?"

And be it recorded in Judith's favour that she did not claim credit for

the idea.

"We're awfully glad you liked it, for we wanted to give you something

that wouldn't let you forget us." How ever was she to tell Miss Ashwell

how she was going to miss her next year. "I'm glad to be one of the

Canterbury bells, but I wanted a special flower of my own for you,

something that would be sweet and rosy and--and--dear, so please don't

let any one else give you a climbing rose because I want to give you one

that will climb up and knock at your window in the early morning and

say--" But she couldn't get any further. She had suddenly realized that

in two weeks' time Miss Ashwell would be gone, that she loved her, and

hated to think that next year some one else would be in the dear little

room at the end of the corridor where she had so often found rest and

comfort. A miserable lump swelled in her throat--she couldn't say

another word.

"I know," said Miss Ashwell; "the roses will tap at the window and say,

'Get up, lazy person, and come out and weed the garden and clip the

roses before breakfast,' or, 'Hurry, hurry, Judith and Nancy and all the

rest of them are coming down to-day for lunch, this is a gala day,' or

perhaps they'll just be fragrant and lovely and bring sweet remembrances

of York Hill and Judith."

"Thank you," said Judith rather hoarsely, but she went away brimful of

happiness because she knew that once more Miss Ashwell had understood.

Judy of York Hill · 第 15 / 17 章