THE NEW GIRL.
Although the booming sound of the great gong filled the air, the supper
to which the head girls of the school were now going was a very simple
affair. It consisted of milk placed in great jugs at intervals down
the long table, of fruit both cooked and uncooked, and large plates of
bread and butter.
Such as it was, however, supper was a much-prized institution of
Mulberry Court; only the fifth-form and sixth-form girls were allowed
to partake of it. To sit up to supper, therefore, was a distinction
intensely envied by the lower school. The plain fare sounded to them
like honey and ambrosia. They were never tired of speculating as to
what went on in the dining room on these occasions, and the idea of
sitting up to supper was with some of the girls a more stimulating
reason for being promoted to the fifth form than any other which could
be offered.
On this special night in the mid-term the girls who were ignominiously
obliged to retire to their bedrooms felt a sorer sense of being left
out than ever.
As Dorothy and her companions walked through the wide, cool entrance
hall, and turned down the stone passage which led to the supper room,
they were quite conscious of the fact that some of the naughtiest and
most adventurous imps of the lower school were hovering round, hanging
over banisters or hiding behind doors. A suppressed giggle of laughter
proceeded so plainly from the back of one of the doors, that Dorothy
could not resist stretching back her hand as she passed, and giving a
playful tap on the panels with her knuckles. The suppressed laughter
became dangerously audible when she did this, so in mercy she was
forced to take no further notice.
The girls entered the wide, long dining hall and immediately took their
places at the table.
Mrs. Freeman always presided at the head of the board, Miss Patience
invariably sat at the foot, Miss Delicia wandered about restlessly,
helping the girls to milk and fruit, patting her favorites on their
backs, bending down to inquire tenderly how this girl's headache was,
and if another had come off conqueror in her tennis match. No girl in
the school minded or feared Miss Delicia in the least. Unlike her two
sisters, who were tall and thin, she was a little body with a round
face, rosy cheeks, hair very much crimped, and eyes a good deal creased
with constant laughter. No one had ever seen Miss Delicia the least bit
cross or the least bit annoyed with anyone. She was invariably known
to weep with the sorrowful, and laugh with the gay--she was a great
coddler and physicker--thought petting far better than punishment, and
play much more necessary for young girls than lessons.
In consequence she was popular, with that mild sort of popularity which
is bestowed upon the people who are all patience and have no faculty
for inspiring fear.
Mrs. Freeman could be austere as well as kind, and Mrs. Freeman was ten
times more loved than Miss Delicia.
The girls took their places at the table--grace was said, and the meal
began.
A sense of disappointment was over them all, for the new girl
upon whom their present thoughts were centered had not put in an
appearance--nothing was said about her--Mrs. Freeman looked as
tranquil as usual, Miss Patience as white and anxious, Miss Delicia as
good-natured and downy.
Dorothy was beginning to whisper to her companion that all their
excitement was safe to end in smoke, when the door at the farther end
of the dining hall was softly pushed open, and a head of luxuriant
nut-brown curling hair was popped in. Two roguish dark blue eyes looked
down the long room--they greeted with an eager sort of delighted
welcome each fresh girl face, and then the entire person of a tall,
showily dressed girl entered.
"My dear Bridget!" exclaimed Mrs. Freeman, so surprised by the
unexpected apparition that she was actually obliged to rise from her
seat and come forward.
"Oh, my dear, ought you not to be asleep?" exclaimed Miss Patience in
thin, anxious tones from the other end of the board, while Miss Delicia
ran up to the girl and took one of her dimpled white hands in hers.
"I did not feel tired, Mrs. Freeman," replied the newcomer in an eager,
irrepressible sort of voice. "You put me into my room and told me to
go to bed, but I didn't want to go to bed. I have had my supper, thank
you, so I don't want any more, but I have been dying with curiosity to
see the girls. Are these they? Are these my schoolfellows? I never saw
a schoolfellow before. They all look pretty much like other people.
How do you do, each and all of you? I'm Bridget O'Hara. May I sit near
you, Mrs. Freeman?"
"Sit there, Miss O'Hara, please," said Mrs. Freeman. She tried to
suppress a smile, which was difficult. "Girls," she said, addressing
the fifth and sixth forms, "girls, this young lady is your new
schoolfellow--her name is Bridget O'Hara. I meant to introduce her
to you formally to-morrow, but she has taken the matter into her own
hands. I am glad you are not tired, Miss O'Hara, for you have had a
very long journey."
"Oh, my!" exclaimed Miss O'Hara, "that's nothing. Goodness gracious me!
what would you think of thirty or forty miles on an Irish jaunting car,
all in one day, Mrs. Freeman? That's the sort of thing to make the back
ache. Bump, bump, you go. You catch on to the sides of the car for bare
life, and as likely as not you're pitched out into a bog two or three
times before you get home. Papa and I have often taken our thirty to
forty miles' jaunt a day. I can tell you, I have been stiff after those
rides. Did you ever ride on a jaunting car, Mrs. Freeman?"
"No, my dear," replied the head mistress, in a rather icy voice, "I
have never had the pleasure of visiting Ireland."
"Well, it's a very fine sort of place, as free and easy as you please;
lots of fishing in the lakes and in the rivers. I'm very fond of my
gun, too. Can you handle a gun, Mrs. Freeman? It kicks rather, if you
can't manage it."
An audible titter was heard down the table, and Mrs. Freeman turned
somewhat red.
"Will you have some fruit?" she said coldly, laying a restraining hand
as she spoke on the girl's beflowered and embroidered dress.
"No fruit, thank you. Oh, what a lovely ring you have on! It's a
ruby, isn't it? My poor mother--she died when I was only three--had
some splendid rubies--they are to be mine when I am grown up. Papa is
keeping them for me in the County Bank. You always keep your valuables
in the Bank in Ireland, you know--that's on account of the Land
Leaguers."
"I think, my dear, we won't talk quite so much," said Mrs. Freeman.
"At most of our meals German is the only language spoken. Supper, of
course, is an exception. Why, what is the matter. Miss O'Hara?"
"Good gracious me!" exclaimed Bridget O'Hara, "am I to be dumb during
breakfast, dinner, and tea? I don't know a word of German. Why, I'll
die if I can't chatter. It's a way we have in Ireland. We _must_ talk."
"Patience," said Mrs. Freeman, from her end of the supper table, "I
think we have all finished. Will you say grace?"
There was a movement of chairs, and a general rising.
Miss Patience asked for a blessing on the meal just partaken of in a
clear, emphatic voice, and the group of girls began to file out of the
room.
"May I go with the others?" asked Miss O'Hara.
"Yes, certainly. Let me introduce you to someone in particular. Janet
May, come here, my dear."
Janet turned at the sound of her name, and came quickly up to her
mistress. She looked slight, pale, and almost insignificant beside
the full, blooming, luxuriously made girl, who, resting one hand in a
nonchalant manner on the back of her chair, was looking full at her
with laughing bright eyes.
"Janet," said Mrs. Freeman, "will you oblige me by showing Miss O'Hara
the schoolrooms and common rooms, and introducing her to one or two of
her companions? Go, my dear," she continued, "but remember, Bridget,
whether you are tired or not, I shall expect you to go to bed to-night
at nine o'clock. It is half-past eight now, so you have half an hour to
get acquainted with your schoolfellows."
"My! what a minute!" said Miss Bridget, tossing back her abundant hair,
and slipping one firm, dimpled hand inside Janet's arm. "Well, come
on, darling," she continued, giving that young lady an affectionate
squeeze. "Let's make the most of our precious time. I'm dying to know
you all--I think you look so sweet. Who's that love of a girl in gray,
who sat next you at supper? She had golden hair, and blue eyes--not
like mine, of course, but well enough for English eyes. What's her
name, dear?"
"I think you must mean Dorothy Collingwood," said Janet in her clear,
cold English voice. "May I ask if you have ever been at school before,
Miss O'Hara?"
"Oh, good gracious me! don't call me Miss O'Hara. I'm Biddy to my
friends--Biddy O'Hara, at your service--great fun, too, I can tell you.
You ask my father what he thinks of me. Poor old gentleman, I expect
he's crying like anything this minute without his Biddy to coddle him.
He said I wanted polishing, and so he sent me here. I have never been
in England before, and I don't at all know if I will like it. By the
way, what's your name? I didn't quite catch it."
"Janet May. This is the schoolroom where the sixth form girls do their
lessons. We have a desk each, of course. That room inside there is for
the fifth form. I wonder which you will belong to? How old are you?"
"Now, how old would you think? Just you give a guess. Let me stand in
front of you, so that you can take a squint at me. Now, then--oh, I
say, stop a minute, I see some more girls coming in. Come along, girls,
and help Miss May to guess my age. Now, then, now then, I wonder who'll
be right? How you do all stare! I feel uncommonly as if I'd like to
dance the Irish jig!"
Dorothy, Ruth, and Olive had now come into the schoolroom, and had
taken their places by Janet's side. She gave them a quick look, in
which considerable aversion to the newcomer was plainly visible, then
turned her head and gazed languidly out of the window.
Bridget O'Hara bestowed upon the four girls who stood before her a
lightning glance of quizzical inquiry. She was a tall, fully developed
girl, and no one could doubt her claim to beauty who looked at her even
for a moment.
Her eyes were of that peculiar, very dark, very deep blue, which seems
to be an Irish girl's special gift. Her eyelashes were thick and black,
her complexion a fresh white and pink, her chestnut hair grew in thick,
curly abundance all over her well-shaped head. Her beautifully cut
lips wore a petulant but charming expression. There was a provocative,
almost teasing, self-confidence about her, which to certain minds only
added to her queer fascination.
"Now, how old am I?" she asked, stamping her arched foot. "Don't be
shy, any of you. Begin at the eldest, and guess right away. Now then,
Miss Collingwood--you see, I know your name--the age of your humble
servant, if _you_ please."
Dorothy could not restrain her laughter.
"How can I possibly tell you, Miss O'Hara?" she replied. "You are a
tall girl. Perhaps you are seventeen, although you look more."
"Oh! hurrah, hurrah, hurrah! What will my dear dad say when I tell him
that? Biddy O'Hara seventeen! Don't I wish I were! Oh, the lovely balls
I'd be going to if those were my years! Now, another guess. It's your
turn now--you, little brown one there--I haven't caught your name,
darling. Is it Anne or Mary? Most girls are called either Anne or Mary."
"My name is Ruth," replied the girl so addressed, "and I can't guess
ages. Come, Olive, let us find our French lessons and go."
"Oh, I declare, the little dear is huffed about something! Well, then,
I'll tell. _I'll be fifteen in exactly a month from now!_ What do you
say to that? I'm well grown, am I not, Janet?"
"Did you speak?" asked Miss May in her coldest tones.
"Yes, darling, I did. Shall we go into the common room now? I'm dying
to see it."
"I'm afraid I have no more time to show you any of the house this
evening," answered Janet. "The common room is very much the shape of
this one, only without the desks. I have some of my studies to look
over, so I must wish you good-evening."
Bridget O'Hara's clear blue eyes were opened a little, wider apart.
For the first time there was a faint hesitation in her manner.
"But Mrs. Freeman said----" she began.
"That I was to take you round and introduce you to a few companions,"
continued Janet hastily. "Miss Collingwood, Miss O'Hara--Miss Moore,
Miss O'Hara--Miss Bury, Miss O'Hara. Now I have done my duty. If you
like to see the common room for yourself, you can go straight through
this folding door, turn to your left, see a large room directly facing
you; go into it, and you will find yourself in the common room. Now,
good-night."
Janet turned away, and a moment later reached the door of the
schoolroom, where she was joined by Olive and Ruth. "Come," she said
to them, and the three girls disappeared, only too glad to vent their
feelings in the passage outside the schoolroom. Dorothy Collingwood
lingered behind her companions. "Never mind," she said to Biddy, "it is
rude of Janet to leave you, but she is sometimes a little erratic in
her movements. It is a way our Janey has, and of course no one is silly
enough to mind her."
"You don't suppose I mind her?" exclaimed Bridget. "Rudeness always
shows ill-breeding, but it is still more ill-bred to notice it--at
least, that's what papa says. She spoke rather as if she did not like
me, which is quite incomprehensible, for everybody loves me at home."
There was a plaintive note in the girl's voice, a wistful expression in
her eyes, which went straight to Dorothy's kind heart.
"People will like you here too," she said. "I am certain you are
very good-natured; come and let me show you some of our snug little
arrangements in the common room, and then I think it will be time for
bed."
"Oh, never mind about bed--I'm not the least sleepy."
"But Mrs. Freeman wants you to go to bed early to-night."
"Poor old dear! But wanting Biddy O'Hara to do a thing, and making
her do it, are two very different matters. I'll go to bed when I'm
tired--papa never expected me to go earlier at home. I declare I feel
quite cheerful again now that I have got to know you, Dorothy. Janet is
not at all to my taste, but you are. What a pretty name you have, and
you have an awfully sweet expression--such a dear, loving kind of look
in your eyes. Would you mind very much if I gave you a hug?"
"I don't mind your kissing me, Bridget, only does not it seem a little
soon--I have not known you many minutes yet?"
"Oh, you darling, what do minutes signify when one loves? There, Dolly,
I have fallen in love with you, and that's the fact. You shall come and
stay with me at the Castle in the summer, and I'll teach you to fire a
gun and to land a salmon. Oh, my dear, what larks we'll have together!
I'm so glad you're taking me round this house, instead of that stiff
Janet."
Dorothy suppressed a faint sigh, took her companion's plump hand, and
continued the tour of investigation.
The common room to which she conducted Miss O'Hara was entirely for the
use of the elder girls; the girls of the middle and the lower school
had other rooms to amuse themselves in. But this large, luxuriously
furnished apartment was entirely given up to the sixth and fifth-form
schoolgirls.
The room was something like a drawing room, with many easy-chairs and
tables. Plenty of light streamed in from the lofty windows, and fell
upon knickknacks and brackets, on flowers in pots--in short, on the
many little possessions which each individual girl had brought to
decorate her favorite room.
"We are each of us allowed a certain freedom here," said Dorothy. "You
see these panels? It is a great promotion to possess a panel. All the
girls who are allowed to have the use of this room cannot have one,
but the best of us can. Now behold! Open sesame! Shut your eyes for a
minute--you can open them again when I tell you. Now--you may look now."
Bridget opened her eyes wide, and started at the transformation
scene which had taken place during the brief moment she had remained
in darkness. The room was painted a pale, cool green. The walls
were divided into several panels. One of these had now absolutely
disappeared, and in its place was a deep recess, which went far enough
back into the wall to contain shelves, and had even space sufficient
for a chair or two, a sewing machine, and one or two other sacred
possessions.
"This is my panel," said Dorothy, "and these are my own special pet
things. I bring out my favorite chair when I want to use it, or to
offer it to a guest; I put it back when I have done with it. See these
shelves, they hold my afternoon tea set, my books, my paint box, my
workbasket, my photographic album--in short, all my dearest treasures."
"I must have a cupboard like that," said Biddy. "Why, it's perfectly
delicious!"
"Yes; you have got to earn it first, however," replied Miss
Collingwood, slipping back the pale green panel with a dexterous
movement.
"Earn it--how? Do you mean pay extra for it? Oh, that can be easily
managed--I'll write to papa at once. He has heaps of money, even though
he is Irish, and he can deny me nothing. He's paying lots more for
me than most of the girls' fathers pay for them. That's why I have a
room to myself, and why I am to have riding lessons, and a whole heap
of things. But I mean to share all my little comforts with you, you
darling. Oh, if the cupboard is to be bought, I'll soon have one. Now
let us sit in this cosy, deep seat in the window, and put our arms
round one another and talk." The great clock in the stable struck nine.
"Don't you hear the clock?" exclaimed Dorothy, unconscious relief
coming into her tones.
"Yes, what a loud, metallic sound! We have such a dear old eight-day
clock at the Castle; it's said to be quite a hundred years old, and I'm
certain it's haunted. My dear Dolly, to hear that clock boom forth the
hour at midnight would make the stoutest heart quail."
"Well, and our humble school clock ought to make your heart quail
if you don't obey it, Bridget. Seriously speaking, it is my duty to
counsel you, as a new girl, to go to bed at once."
"The precious love, how nicely she talks, and how I love her gentle,
refined words. But, darling, I'm not going to bed, for I'm not tired."
"But Mrs. Freeman said----"
"Dolly, I will clap my hands over your rosebud lips if you utter
another word. Come, and let us sit in this deep window-seat and be
happy. Would you like to know what papa is doing at the Castle now?"
"I don't think I ought to listen to you, Bridget."
"Yes, you ought. I'm going to give you a lovely description. Papa has
had his dinner, and he's pacing up and down on the walk which hangs
over the lake. He is smoking a meerschaum pipe, and the dogs are with
him."
"The dogs?" asked Dorothy, interested in spite of herself.
"Yes, poor old Dandy, who is so lame and so affectionate, and Mustard
and Pepper, the dear little snappers, and Lemon. Poor darling, he is a
trial; we have called him Lemon because he exactly resembles the juice
of that fruit when it's most acrid and disagreeable. Lemon's temper
is the acknowledged trial of our kennel, but he loves my father, and
always paces up and down with him in the evening on the south walk.
Then of course there's Bruin, he's an Irish deerhound, and the darling
of my heart, and there's Pilate, the blind watchdog--oh! and Minerva.
I think that's about all. We have fox hounds, of course, but they are
not let out every day. I see my dear father now looking down at the
lake, and talking to the dogs, and thinking of me. O Dolly, Dolly, I'm
lonely, awfully lonely! Do pity me--do love me! O Dolly, my heart will
break if no one loves me!"
Bridget's excitable eager words were broken by sobs; tears poured out
of her lovely eyes, her hands clasped Dorothy's with fervor.
"Love me," she pleaded; "do love me, for I love you."
It would have been impossible for a much colder heart than Dorothy
Collingwood's to resist her.
"Yes, I will love you," she replied; "but please go to bed now, dear.
You really will get into trouble if you don't, and it seems such a pity
that you should begin your school life in disgrace."
"Well, if I must go, and if you really wish it. Come with me to my
room, Dorothy. O Dolly, if you would sleep with me to-night!"
"No, I can't do that; we have to obey rules at school, and one of our
strictest rules is that no girl is to leave her own bedroom without
special permission."
"Then go and ask, darling. Find Mrs. Freeman, and ask her; it's so
easily done."
"I cannot go, Bridget. Mrs. Freeman would not give me leave, and she
would be only annoyed at my making such a foolish proposition."
"Oh, foolish do you call it?" A passing cloud swept over Bridget
O'Hara's face. It quickly vanished, however; she jumped up with a
little sigh.
"I don't think I shall like school," she said, "but I'll do anything
you wish me to do, dearest Dorothy."