[Illustration: Cover art]
[Frontispiece: "'Good game, Kitty, wasn't it?'" (_see page_ 44)]
Schoolgirl Rivals
By
BRENDA PAGE
With Frontispiece in Colour and
Three Black and White Illustrations
By P. B. HICKLING
CASSELL AND COMPANY, LIMITED
London, Toronto, Melbourne, and Sydney
First Published 1937
_Printed in Great Britain_
CONTENTS
CHAPTER
1. First Impressions
2. The Seniors of Carslake's
3. The P. Squareds
4. The Richoter Science Prize
5. Trial by Jury
6. The Richoter Results
7. Sports Day
8. Carslake's v. The Rest
9. The Cycling Expedition
10. A Night on the Downs
11. The Truth of it All
ILLUSTRATIONS
"'Good game, Kitty, wasn't it?'" ... Frontispiece
"She swung round quickly as the Principal said sharply: 'Has someone
been interfering with your balances, Constance?'"
"'What rubbish is all this?' Duane asked"
"Crouched in a forlorn heap upon the floor, they found the runaway"
Schoolgirl Rivals
CHAPTER I
FIRST IMPRESSIONS
"Good-Bye, my dear child. You are quite sure you will be all right
and have everything you want? It's a straightforward run now to
Easthampton."
"Oh yes, I shall be quite all right, Mrs. Wade, and thank you very
much for all the trouble you've taken with me. I'll sure never
forget it."
Mrs. Wade nodded and waved as the train moved out of the junction.
She had arrived in London off an Australian boat only the day before
and had been in charge of the Australian girl during the voyage over.
She had not seen her native country for twenty-five years, and so was
naturally feeling rather excited. She turned away with her
conscience at rest, having successfully fulfilled her obligation. To
be sure, her charge was a very sensible and practical girl, with a
mind and will of her own, and had given her no trouble. Now she was
safely in the train that would carry her straight to her destination,
and Mrs. Wade could leave off worrying about her, and turn her
attention to the relations she had not seen for twenty-five years.
Left "on her own" for the first time in her life, Kitty Despard,
Australian born and bred, settled herself in her corner seat with an
inward feeling of mingled excitement and trepidation, but outwardly
with firmly set lips and resolute air. She was a stranger in a
strange land, but Australians are not noted for either nervousness or
backwardness.
Staring out at the flying green landscape with unseeing eyes, she was
wondering for the hundredth time since her departure from home what
an English boarding-school would be like. In the old-fashioned
story-books they were the most awful places; they had "crocodiles"
and "backboards" and lessons in "deportment." But schools had
changed in later years. She knew that English girls, as a whole,
were fond of sports, and in that, at any rate, she could hold her
own, for she had been brought up with half a dozen brothers and
sisters in a bush "township," where opportunities for tennis and
cricket were unlimited.
There was the question of lessons, of course. Kitty had gone daily
by the school train to the High School in a neighbouring town. She
had dodged as much work as she could, it is true, but she had one
strong point. Jim and Billy always declared that she was as good as
they were at mathematics.
No doubt there would be some "snobs" at Easthampton, for Mrs. Wade's
sister, who had recommended the school to Kitty's father, had said
that all the scholars were the children either of well-to-do or
well-born families. But there were sure to be some good sorts, too.
The train was a slow one, stopping at every station. One of these
was apparently a junction of a small kind, for there was quite a
little bustle as a crowd of passengers from another train swarmed
across the platform. Kitty's carriage was invaded by five or six
girls who clambered noisily in with the happy air of owning the whole
train. Kitty realized with a start that they were evidently
Easthampton College girls, for they wore the same scarlet hatband
badge as she did.
"Van's further down," remarked one who was craning her neck out of
the window.
"We pick up Salome at the next station," added the tallest of the
party. "Oh, here comes Paddy, late as usual, tearing down the steps
like mad. She'll never do it."
The girl at the window had flung open the door and was shouting, "Hi,
hi, Paddy!" at the top of her voice, and gesticulating frantically.
As the train began to move, the late-comer rushed up to the carriage
door. Half a dozen helping hands seized hold of various parts of her
person and she was hauled in, collapsing in a heap in the middle of
the carriage. She picked herself up and subsided panting into the
seat next to Kitty.
"Your usual method of catching trains, Paddy!" remarked the tall girl.
"Never mind. I did catch it, and that's all that matters, sure,"
returned Paddy cheerfully. "Cheer-oh, girls, how d'you like coming
back to the grindstone? Never ye mind; summer's before us, and
cricket and tennis. Oh, the merry, merry month of May!" she began to
sing in a tuneless voice.
"Cuckoo! Cuckoo!" sang somebody else; and there was a general
chorus, "Oh don't, Paddy!"
"Always optimistic. You're very refreshing, Paddy, my child,"
remarked the tall girl when the hubbub had subsided. "I came down on
the other line with Van, and she could talk of nothing but
matriculation."
"When every prospect pleases, and only man is vile," sighed Paddy.
"Hallo!" as her sharp eyes caught sight of Kitty's school hat resting
on the rack. "Here's a new girl. You _are_ a new girl, aren't you?
I'm sure I've never seen your face before."
Kitty replied in the affirmative, and the tall girl broke in:
"Are you really? I'm so sorry I didn't notice it. My name's Eileen
Gilbert, and as I happen to be a prefect it's very reprehensible
conduct on my part. Do you come from far?"
"From Australia," replied Kitty.
There were exclamations from the listening girls.
"Begorrah!" said Paddy. "But there's a way to come to school for
you! Have you been in England long?"
"I only landed at Tilbury yesterday. I came over in charge of a
friend of ours. She saw me safely in the train for Easthampton and
has promised dad she'll keep an eye on me while I'm here."
"Poor thing," said Paddy sadly, "and won't she be feeling the loss of
it now!"
"The loss of what?" Kitty's wits were not quite so sharp at that
moment as they usually were.
"Her oie, to be sure."
"Stop ragging, Paddy," interrupted Eileen. Paddy, a girl with bright
black eyes, a merry face and untidy dark hair, merely laughed and
turned again to Kitty, who had already taken a great fancy to her.
"I don't believe we've ever had an Australian girl at Easthampton
before. How old are you?"
"Sixteen--and a half."
"A little older than me. I am only just sixteen."
"Do tell us your name," interrupted one of the smaller girls.
"Kitty Despard."
"Are you fond of sports?" asked Paddy eagerly. "I've heard all
Australians are."
"Yes, very much," replied Kitty.
"Oh, good! What house are you in?"
"Miss Carslake's."
"Oh!" Paddy's tone expressed volumes.
"That mouldy show! What an impression of Easthampton you'll get!
Now, it ought to have been Sheerston's----"
"Or Prince's," said Eileen quickly.
"Well, Prince's isn't so bad, though it's not up to Sheerston's----"
"Yes, it is. It'll be top house this term, you'll see."
"No, it won't. But--Carslake's! It's a filthy hole."
"What do you mean?" inquired Kitty, feeling a little startled.
"Well, it's easily bottom house, and has got a most awful reputation
for slacking--which it deserves."
Eileen nodded. "Yes, and it used to be top house once. Now it's out
of the running even for third place. Only two senior and a few
junior prizes went to it last year."
"And only one colour in the whole house," added Paddy. "That's
Duane, of course, for hockey. I should think she's safe to get her
tennis and cricket colours too, this term. But just think of it!
Only one in the whole house! Slackers isn't the word for that lot.
Miss Carslake sets the example and the girls follow the sheep."
"Of course you heard the rumour that Doreen was leaving?"
"Not really? Won't it be funny if she does! What with Betty leaving
suddenly at the beginning of the year, and now Doreen--why, there
won't be one sixth-former left in the house this term. It's the
queerest thing I ever heard of. What'll they do about a head
prefect?"
"Here's the next stop," said Eileen.
"Look out for Salome. We'll ask her if Doreen really has left.
She's sure to know."
At the next station another addition was made to the party, a tall
girl with delightful hair, dark and wavy and bobbed, an
active-looking figure and eyebrows that were noticeable for their
straightness. A remarkable girl--and she certainly had a remarkable
name, unless it was a nickname. Paddy was obliging enough to whisper
to the new girl:
"That's Salome Hope, the head prefect of my house, Sheerston's;
frightfully clever at lessons and a triple colour--hockey, cricket
and tennis. There isn't a girl to touch her in the school."
The whisper was a very audible one, like all Paddy's whispers.
Salome heard it quite plainly, and looked across at Kitty with a
laugh.
"One of the school celebrities, in fact. Paddy is too, though she
refrains from mentioning it. Are you a new girl?"
"Yes," answered Eileen. "Kitty Despard, from Australia. They've put
her into Carslake's. Isn't it a shame!"
"Well, Carslake's is in need of seniors, it seems," said Salome.
"Is it true that Doreen has left?"
"Yes, unfortunately. It puts the house into an unprecedented
position, having to descend to the Upper Fifth for a head prefect."
"Quite unprecedented. Fortunately it'll only be for a term. But
surely there are only a few seniors of any sort in Carslake's now?"
"Let me see. Margaret, Sonia and Bertha in the Lower Fifth; Duane,
Hilary and France in the Upper--that's all."
"It's a pity Hilary is so delicate, and of course France would be
hopeless as head prefect. I suppose it'll be Duane."
"Yes. She's been chosen already."
"The best of the three," remarked Eileen, "and rather clever in her
way, I should think. But a bit of a slacker, isn't she?"
"Yes, I'm afraid so. But she's got her hockey colour. That's always
a help."
"Rather," put in Paddy. "And I remember her at tennis last year. If
she had bucked up a bit she might have got her tennis colour as well.
She could bat too, in cricket. Only she's so beastly erratic."
"That's it," agreed Salome, "you can't depend on her. She's a queer
sort."
"Anyway, Carslake's can't come down any lower," said Eileen
philosophically. "That'll be one comfort to her."
Then the conversation turned on other subjects, and a few minutes
later the train began to draw up.
"Easthampton!" cried Paddy, who thought she had been silent long
enough. "Tumble out, everybody. I'll look out for the school truck.
All light luggage is here, being only Easter vac.--except Kitty's, of
course."
Eileen, as a prefect, took the new girl under her wing.
"Run down to the luggage van and have your trunks brought up here.
Then they can go up to the school with ours. There's plenty of time.
Paddy will be some while fetching Orpheus along with the truck; he
always crawls about like a snail."
As Kitty obediently went off down the platform with her long strides,
many of the girls turned round to stare after her as she passed, for
she was far from being an insignificant girl. She was tall,
long-legged, and at a rather bony and angular stage of growth. Her
face was very tanned after the sea voyage and, like the majority of
Australian girls, her complexion was nothing to boast about; she had
cropped, bright brown hair and alert grey-blue eyes; there was
something in her carriage and the active swing of her walk that
betrayed an outdoor life with plenty of exercise.
"This is yours, miss," said the porter obligingly. "For the school,
miss? Here's another one for the school. Take them both up the
platform, Tom."
The second trunk, as Kitty noticed with a quick observant glance, was
very smart and expensive looking; and painted in white very
conspicuously across the top, in great contrast to Kitty's humble
initials, were these words: "The Hon. Duane l'Estrange Estevan."
Kitty was immensely tickled.
"My gracious!" she said to herself. "What a name! If it were mine I
should want to drown it. An Honourable, too. I sort of think, if I
run across her, I shan't hit it off with the Hon. Duane l'Estrange
Estevan. That is to say, if she's anything like her trunk, or her
name."
Australians are far less tolerant in their criticisms than the
English, and Kitty was no exception, you see.
Returning to Eileen and her party, she found that a little shambling
man was loading a truck with the girls' hand luggage.
"Come along now," said Paddy. "We can leave these things to Orpheus.
We call him Orpheus," she explained to Kitty, "because he blows the
chapel organ. He's got an undeveloped cerebrum, you know, poor chap."
"Please, Paddy," remonstrated Salome. "We're not in school yet!"
"Well, dippy on the dome then, if that's more suited to your
intelligence," retorted Paddy recklessly.
They set off from the station, Salome and Eileen leading the way,
Paddy and Kitty following, and the younger ones trailing along
behind. They passed through the small town of Easthampton and after
half a mile's walk they arrived at Easthampton College. Kitty's
first glimpse of that famous school was an imposing pair of iron
gates with a view beyond of trim shrubberies and lawns, a curving
drive, a pleasant red-bricked house, and a background of green
fields. The gates were open.
"Easthampton is quite a little colony of itself," said Salome,
turning to Kitty with a smile. "There are nearly three hundred girls
in the school, quite two hundred being yearly boarders."
"How many houses are there?"
"Four. This is Sheerston's near the gate, my house and the biggest.
Carslake's is a little farther on down the drive. Prince's and
Green's are the other side of the quadrangle, side by side. The
school building is at the back of the quad, and beyond are the
playing-fields and the kitchen garden. We have two big fields. We
call them Big Side and Little Side, because one is used by the
seniors and one by the juniors. The swimming-bath and gym are in the
playing-fields."
"Will you take Kitty along to Carslake's, Salome?" asked Eileen. "No
Carslake's prefects came down in our train."
"Right-oh," replied Salome. "It's not so far for me. Come along,
Kitty."
They went off down the drive, past Sheerston's, till they came to a
somewhat smaller though similarly built building.
"Now, I'll hunt you out a senior and leave you in her charge," said
Salome. "Your luggage will arrive presently and will be put in the
vestibule. Then you unpack and carry your things up to your
dormitory. Hi," seizing hold of a small girl who was in the
vestibule unpacking; "run up to the dormitories and unearth a senior
of some sort. Isn't your head prefect knocking around somewhere?"
"I don't think she's come yet," replied the child.
"Then she ought to have," said Salome, "to look after her troublesome
young charges. Never mind. Anybody will do."
The girl disappeared, returning in a few minutes with the desired
senior.
"Hallo, Salome!" the new-comer exclaimed. "What brings you in this
direction so soon?"
"A new girl. Kitty Despard, all the way from Australia. Kitty, this
is Hilary, one of your seniors," and after exchanging a few more
words Salome departed.
Kitty's new acquaintance was a rather small, slight girl with soft,
fair hair, pale, irregular features and dark, hazel eyes. Her
manner, as she showed Kitty her cubicle and told her where to put her
things, was courteous and considerate, but quiet and self-contained.
Kitty had hardly finished unpacking before a bell rang and they went
down to tea in a big, cheery room, containing four or five long
tables. The new girl was rather dazed by the chatter and laughter
and crowd of new faces. She gathered little save that most of the
girls were smaller than herself, but that there was either a mistress
or a senior girl at the head and foot of each table. She herself sat
next to Hilary, who presided at the foot of one of them.
The rest of the evening seemed still more dreamlike. There was a
brief interview with the house mistress, Miss Carslake, who welcomed
her kindly, shook hands rather limply, asked her a number of
questions in a pleasant voice, and gave her hints on what she might
expect to find in her new life.
At eight o'clock another bell rang, and she was astonished when
somebody remarked, "Chapel." She thought vaguely of Wesleyans and
Baptists, and looked to see what the others were doing. Everybody
made for the vestibule and donned hats and wrappers of some sort.
Hilary considerately took Kitty in charge again.
"Get your hat. It's chapel. We only have morning chapel
usually--just a short service--but we always have evening chapel the
first and last night of term."
They crossed the quad with the others to the pretty little chapel
that adjoined the school building, meeting converging streams of
girls from the other houses. Kitty, as if in a dream, knelt, rose,
and sat with the rest of the two hundred and fifty girls, but there
was something strangely impressive in the hearty chanting of the
solitary psalm, "I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills ... the Lord
shall preserve thy going out, and thy coming in," and the still
heartier rendering of the hymn:
Lord receive us with Thy blessing,
Once again assembled here.
Kitty was sitting near the organ and could not help noticing the
player, evidently one of the girls, for her bright chestnut hair hung
in a heavy mass down her back. Kitty was so absorbed in examining
her aristocratic profile and admiring the elegant way in which she
wore her clothes, that she missed a considerable part of the lesson.
Afterwards came supper, an informal meal of hot cocoa and "pavement"
(a slice of cake), then bed bell and lights out, for the seniors, at
ten o'clock. In spite of the strangeness of being enclosed in the
white-panelled walls of a daintily furnished cubicle, Kitty was so
tired and drowsy that before long her eyelids closed and she was
sound asleep.