THE RICHOTER RESULTS
As Salome had foretold, by next morning public opinion, in its fickle
fashion, had veered completely round and the majority of the girls
were of the opinion that Duane, and not Kitty, was the culprit. It
seemed to be a matter more of feeling than cold reasoning, with many.
It occurred to a Lower Fifth-former that plasticine was particularly
handy in Duane's case, for lumps of it were always knocking around
the study she shared with Frances, the artist. Others agreed that,
after all, the motive for spoiling Salome's results would be stronger
in Duane's case than in Kitty's, for Duane would benefit personally
and very practically if she succeeded in triumphing over her most
feared opponent.
The other prefects were intensely annoyed by Duane's manner, for the
next day she refused to reopen the discussion at all, declaring that
she had no more to say than what she had already said. She refused,
their kindly-meant offers of help, and, in fact, seemed so flippantly
callous in her treatment of the affair that they left her alone in
disgust.
But Duane was to find out pretty thoroughly that the way of
transgressors is not an easy path to tread. A stiff restraint of
manner in the Upper Fifth classroom was all the condemnation the
seniors would allow themselves to show; anything in the nature of
hooliganism was "bad form" and derogatory to their dignity. They
left that to their juniors.
The Carslake juniors, however, had no intention of allowing the
matter to drop so readily, and were far more willing to accept the
belief that Duane, and not Kitty, was guilty for Kitty had always
been more popular with them than their head prefect. After their
usual indignation meeting, Duane received a somewhat smudged sheet of
exercise-book paper requesting her resignation as head prefect of
Carslake's, a request to which she returned a decided refusal.
Thereafter the juniors did all they could in hundreds of little ways
to show their reluctance to acknowledge her authority, though they
did not dare to rebel outright. The final inter-house cricket match
had to be scratched at the last minute because the juniors refused to
play in a team captained by Duane, while from the cricket committee
came a politely worded request that she should resign her place in
the school eleven. A few days later, from the hockey committee came
the still politer intimation that with much regret they felt obliged
to withdraw Duane's hockey colour. Cricket was practically over, it
is true, but for the next two terms hockey would reign supreme at
Easthampton.
Strange to say, Duane's own seniors were not so hard on her as the
rest of the school, France declaring sturdily that she had been
Duane's friend for the last six years and thought it would be
disloyal to allow the recent trouble to make any difference; Bertha
Salter, with a kind of defiance, was heard to declare that she even
had a sort of admiration for Cato and her "nerve"; while kind-hearted
Margaret could not refrain from proffering her sympathy to Duane for
the loss of her hockey colour.
"Yes, I'm afraid I shan't be able to show my shining genius at hockey
next term by scoring all the goals for the school," Duane agreed,
rather cheerfully than otherwise. "However, I console myself with
the thought that the school matches are not the only ones played."
At first the other three head prefects wondered if they should go
further in the matter. They could do no more themselves if Duane
continued obdurate. Should they or should they not take this new
development to the Principal? But there were other even more
important matters to engross their attention now. Examinations had
begun. The Upper Fifth were in the throes of the Senior Cambridge,
the Sixth departed "en bloc" to London for a week, to sit for
matriculation, while even the juniors had their own class
examinations to occupy their minds.
These were just finished when the Principal received the results of
the Richoter exam and summoned the school together in the hall just
after preparation to announce them publicly. Intense, if subdued,
excitement prevailed when Miss St. Leger entered and took her stand
on the dais.
After a few opening remarks on the Richoter itself, explaining what
it was and that a yearly grant was awarded to the winner as well as
the honour gained in securing top marks, she went on, "And now for
the results themselves, which are very creditable. Miss Vacher and I
were aware that two girls specially had particular talent for this
branch of work; we thought these two stood the best chance of gaining
most marks, but we were very curious as to which it would be. These
girls, I may say, have run each other very close, heading the list
with only a difference of two marks. Here are the marks of the
leading five, out of a possible total of 300:
Duane Estevan 247
Constance Hope 245
Eileen Gilbert 239
Grace Felton 225
Florence Lessingham 201
"So you see that Duane has just beaten Constance by a very slender
margin, and with an excellent total of 247."
The Principal paused, naturally, for the clamorous applause that
should follow her announcement.
But there was no applause.
Instead, there was a dead silence that seemed to last for an
eternity. "The most ghastly silence she had ever heard," Paddy
afterwards remarked with one of her unexpected Irishisms. No one
moved or spoke, but all seemed to be staring straight ahead with
wooden countenances. One or two stole a glance at the Carslake head
prefect. She stood in her place, her gaze fixed on the floor, her
lips set tightly together. Salome was crimson, knowing full well
that had her own name been read at the head of the list it would have
been the signal for a deafening outburst of applause.
On the Principal's face dawned a look of astonishment as she waited
for the applause which never came. Miss Sheerston's brows went up
about half an inch, and the other members of the staff shifted
uncomfortably in their chairs. Miss Carslake, who had entered
beaming all over her face, looked alarmed and her smile gradually
faded away. Then the Principal's face became expressionless and she
went on in a matter-of-fact tone, as if nothing had happened.
"The other five candidates have all succeeded in gaining over half
marks. I will read them out," and the tension relaxed with an
audible sigh of relief from the rows of listening girls.
At the order for dismissal everyone filed off back to the houses.
Salome wanted to seek out the winner and offer her congratulations,
but somehow felt that such a course was now impossible. It would
seem such a farcical proceeding after that dreadful silence in the
hall. She felt still more uncomfortable when one of her own seniors
said to her, "Hard luck, Salome! Duane Estevan ought to have been
disqualified for her sneaking attempt at cheating."
Salome checked such remarks as well as she could, pointing out that,
whether Duane had attempted to spoil her experiment or not, her own
work must have been the best or she would not have gained the highest
total.
"Oh, she's clever enough. We all know that," remarked one Upper
Fifth-former rather bitterly. "In fact, she's a bit too clever
sometimes."
Meanwhile Duane had returned to her own house with the Carslake
seniors in an uncomfortable silence. She herself uttered no words
and the others did not know what to say. The climax came when they
entered the common-room. The girls were standing about in idle
groups, though the supper bell had gone. The head prefect spoke as
she passed through.
"You shouldn't be standing about like this, you know. You ought to
be in the dining-room. The bell has gone."
Everybody stopped talking and looked up. No one moved, however; then
someone hissed deliberately and one or two laughed sneeringly. Duane
bit her lip and the colour ran up under her skin. For a moment she
stood irresolute, then turned and walked off. The rest of the girls
went in to supper, but the head prefect's place was vacant. After
supper the seniors drifted upstairs together into Hilary's study
where they conversed desultorily on the holidays, now very near. In
a few minutes Duane appeared and sauntered into the room. The six
girls looked up uncomfortably. It was Duane who spoke first, with a
drawl that was more than usually pronounced.
"I've just given in to Miss Carslake my resignation of the head
prefectship."
"You've resigned, Duane?" stammered Margaret.
"No, you haven't really!" cried France.
"Yes, I have. What else could I do? As matters are, it's a mere
farce my being head prefect."
This was true enough. No one, indeed, could gainsay it.
"What did Miss Carslake say?" inquired Hilary.
"Not much. I think this evening enlightened her somewhat as to the
state of affairs. She will leave it to the Principal to settle, of
course."
Miss Carslake, much disturbed, went straight to Miss St. Leger. The
Principal sent for Duane late that evening, and it was some time
after bed bell when the prefect came up to her cubicle, though
exactly what passed between them in that interview no one but the two
concerned ever knew. Next morning after chapel, when just about to
set out for morning lessons, the Carslake seniors received orders to
go to the Principal's room. They found Salome, Vanda and Phyllis
already there. The Principal, as was her wont, went straight to the
point.
"Of course you know, girls, that Duane told Miss Carslake last night
that she wished to resign her prefectship, giving as her reasons her
unpopularity in the school, in particular among her own juniors, who
seem to resent very much having to submit to her authority. She
feels that under these circumstances she cannot properly discharge
her duties as head prefect. Miss Carslake informs me that there was
some feeling in the house against the prefects at the beginning of
the term, chiefly owing to the suppression of rival societies amongst
the juniors, societies which were doing them no good. This, I
understand, however, was only a temporary phase and would doubtless
have blown over in time--was in fact nearly forgotten--when the
unfortunate incident in connexion with the Richoter exam occurred. I
am right in saying, am I not, that the school as a whole has made up
its mind to lay the blame on Duane?"
"Yes, that is true, Miss St. Leger," replied Salome, speaking for
them all.
"I have been very much occupied with examinations lately," continued
the Principal, "and hardly realized Duane's unpopularity and the
reason for it, until yesterday evening in the hall. But, as far as I
can make out, there are no further proofs of either Duane's or
Kitty's guilt than those we discussed at the inquiry."
Salome tried to explain. "You see, feeling was at first against
Kitty; then something Duane said--her attitude--I mean her manner,
convinced the school that she, and not Kitty, was the one
responsible."
"Ah, yes. I have heard about that too. The girls believe Duane was
on the point of making a confession, but drew back from doing so. I
questioned Duane herself about it last night, but she assured me she
had never intended making a confession at any time."
"Yes, I believe she says that," assented Salome quietly. The others
said nothing, realizing the futility of trying to explain
satisfactorily what actually had happened on the evening of Paddy's
mock trial.
"It appears, then, that it is a matter of 'feeling' in the school,
rather than of actual proof. For my part, I still cannot see how one
girl can be adjudged guilty any more than the other. Either _might_
have done it; we cannot definitely prove that either _did_ do it. It
was because of this doubt in the matter, and also because both girls
bore an unblemished record in the school, that I decided to let the
matter rest. You know, girls, one should be very certain of guilt,
before proceeding to inflict punishment."
"We have tried to be quite fair, Miss St. Leger," said Vanda gravely.
"Yes, I know that." Miss St. Leger smiled. "There isn't much I
don't know about the characters of the girls in my school, believe
me. But I wish you had spoken to me of this exceedingly strong tide
of feeling in the school before, instead of taking the easier course
and doing nothing. However, now I do know, I will tell you my
decision. I have refused to accept Duane's resignation because, for
the two reasons I have just given you, I do not see that there is
sufficient justification for it.
"I want you to realize this also. In taking on the head prefectship
in the third term of a school year and also in a house where the
juniors had already shown themselves to be a particularly unruly and
unbalanced set as a whole, Duane was accepting a far from easy task.
I don't think you girls understood quite how difficult her position
was."
"Oh, yes, we knew it was not an easy one," said Hilary earnestly.
"Then some allowances must be made for mistakes, for failures now and
again. For one thing, it was an unprecedented happening for a
Fifth-former to become head prefect--to be head and yet not the equal
of the other head prefects. Again, there was an unfortunately large
majority of juniors over seniors in Carslake's. I am confident,
however, that there will be a great improvement after the holidays.
The older juniors will be seniors and will realize the responsibility
of their position more readily. I am hoping that much of this
unpleasantness will be buried and put out of mind during the summer
vacation. I would prefer, if the culprit cannot be discovered so as
to settle the matter beyond all doubt, that the affair should be
forgotten, or at any rate, laid entirely on one side. I am hoping,
also, that Duane will have sufficient strength of character to live
down this feeling in the school against her. You," addressing the
Carslake seniors, "will, I hope, back up your head prefect as much as
you can."
"We have always done that, Miss St. Leger," replied Hilary. "It
isn't through us that Duane sent in her resignation. But supposing
the juniors still refuse to acknowledge Duane's authority?"
"I do not think they will do that, with my authority behind the head
prefect's. In fact, I shall see to it that they do not. I will
speak to them about it, if necessary, but I think things will work
more smoothly after the holidays. That is all I have to say to you
just now, girls. I know I can rely on you always to do what you can
to help."
That term at Easthampton, however, was destined to end in a manner
befitting the rest of its troubled course. The day after the
intervention of the Principal the baby of Dormitory A, little Erica
Salter, was taken to the sanatorium with a high temperature, her
illness being later diagnosed as a severe attack of 'flu. Hilary was
the next one to fall a victim, and when, before the week was out,
half a dozen girls in Carslake's and as many in the other houses
joined them, Miss St. Leger decided that the best plan would be to
close the school before the epidemic grew worse; in any case, it
would only shorten the term by a bare week, and as examinations were
over, the only event that was left was the Sports Day, and that she
decided to postpone till early in the next term.
Great was the jubilation in the school when it was announced that
girls might communicate with their people and leave for the summer
vacation as soon as they could make arrangements to do so. All
thoughts of lessons were abandoned and everyone commenced to pack
feverishly. The dormitories and the vestibule presented a scene as
animated and busy as a London terminus on August Bank Holiday.
"Never seen it done so quickly," remarked France. "Most new kids
commence packing at least a week before breaking-up day. I remember
my first vacation, like all new girls, I was so frightened I
shouldn't get packed in time that I started three days beforehand.
That night, after bed bell had rung I discovered I had packed _all_
my nightdresses in the bottom of my trunk, which was downstairs
already locked and corded. I was never in such a hurry to pack after
that."
It was astonishing how quickly the school seemed to empty as party
after party, some walking, some in taxis, set off for the station to
catch their trains. The mistresses were busy taking the juniors to
the station and seeing them safely off, or delivering them into the
charge of the older girls. Kitty, who was spending the holiday with
the Wades, departed with France and Margaret. At last, a strange
silence settled over the school which had such a short time ago
buzzed with life. The summer vacation had begun.