Retribution
Gwen took back the sovereign next morning to Netta, who received it
with amazing coolness.
"An unexpected blessing," she remarked. "I'd put that sov. down as a
bad debt. Better late than never. We're quits now, Gwen Gascoyne."
"Not altogether," returned Gwen. "I've set my part straight, but
you've still got the credit for my essay. You haven't put that to
rights."
"Catch me telling!" laughed Netta. "No, my good Gwen, that's a little
too much to ask. Don't expect more than you're likely to get, and then
you won't be disappointed. I'm afraid I must still consider Mr. Thomas
Carlyle my special property. You really can't eat your cake and have
it."
"That's exactly what you're doing," retorted Gwen. "You took my essay,
and now you've got the sovereign as well."
"But I helped you out of a temporary difficulty. You forget that, and
don't show as much gratitude as you might."
"Not much cause for gratitude," grunted Gwen.
"This is what comes of being too philanthropic. I won't help anybody
out of scrapes again. One never gets thanked for it."
"Not when you give your help on such terms."
It was no use arguing with Netta, so Gwen turned away, glad to have
closed the transaction, even though she had been decidedly the loser.
There were plenty of other matters to occupy her mind, as this
afternoon the tennis trials were to take place as a preliminary to
playing for the Form trophy, and later for the County shield. Gwen had
given in her name to Moira Thompson, the head of the games committee,
and expected that she would be accepted at least for the trials. Nor
was she mistaken, for when, at two o'clock, Moira pinned her paper on
the notice board, the fourth couple down for singles were Gwen
Gascoyne against Geraldine French. All the school was assembled to
watch the play, since on this afternoon's victories would largely
depend the future choice of champions.
"Here's my new racket. Do use it--it's a perfect beauty," whispered
Lesbia, edging through the crowd, and pushing her treasured possession
into her sister's hand. "It will just make all the difference to your
play."
Gwen accepted the loan thankfully. Her old racket had been her
greatest impediment, and she had not liked to borrow often from her
classmates. As Lesbia had prophesied, it made all the difference to
her serves, and she played up in a way that astonished everybody.
Geraldine French, who was considered almost invincible by the Sixth,
had not taken Gwen seriously, and was therefore most electrified and
disgusted to find herself beaten by a Fifth Form girl of no particular
reputation in the world of tennis. The Fifth were in a state of
immense delight.
"Gwen's serves to-day were unique," declared Iris Watson. "If she can
keep this up our Form may have a chance for the trophy."
"I'd no idea Gwen could do so well," agreed Elspeth Frazer. "She's
suddenly developed into quite a crack player."
"And she's such long legs and arms, she seems all over the court, and
scarcely misses a ball."
"She's shown up in a new light this afternoon. We shall have to think
her over for a championship."
The match for the Form trophy was to be played in a week's time. At
present the beautiful silver cup was in the possession of the Sixth,
but the Fifth were not without hopes of winning it, and transferring
it to the chimney piece of their own classroom. It was an
old-established custom at Rodenhurst that after the trials had taken
place each Form competing for the trophy should vote its own
champions. The election was naturally a highly exciting event; all the
points of the various candidates' play were carefully discussed, and
the two who were considered the most likely to do credit to the Form
were returned. On this occasion five girls appeared of such equal
merit that the running between them would be very close. Hilda Browne
and Charlotte Perry were last year's champions, and were steady
players, though many thought that Charlotte had gone off a little in
her serves. Betty Brierley was brilliant but unreliable, sometimes
making more splendid scores than anybody in the school, and sometimes
playing love games. Netta Goodwin had a special reputation for back
work, in which she excelled, and this circumstance might very
possibly cause her to be chosen in conjunction with a good net
champion. Gwen's unexpected prowess had been a complete surprise to
the Form, and had made such a favourable impression that many were
inclined to vote for her. To none of the five girls did the vision of
a championship appear more attractive than to Netta. She loved to
shine, and it was a sore point with her that she was not more popular
in her Form. Here, at any rate, seemed a chance to gain the applause
of her schoolfellows. She was conscious of playing well, and though
she was not a general favourite, she knew the girls did not allow
individual preferences, as a rule, to bias their judgment when it was
a question of winning or losing the trophy. She canvassed diligently,
put any pressure she could bring to bear upon her particular friends,
and began carefully to reckon up how many votes she could reasonably
count upon. The result was not altogether reassuring. Both Hilda
Browne and Gwen seemed powerful rivals to her pretensions, and the
chances were that the election would return Hilda for first champion,
and either Gwen or Charlotte Perry for second. The prospect of being
beaten in an affair upon which she had set her heart filled Netta with
dismay.
The voting was by ballot, and took place in the classroom immediately
after morning school. When the bell rang the girls did not immediately
leave their desks as usual, but sat still while Miss Douglas
distributed to each a half sheet of notepaper and an envelope. All
that was required was to write down the names of two champions, fold
the paper and put it in the envelope. No signatures were allowed, so
that even Miss Roscoe should not know who had voted for which
candidate. The whole affair did not take more than a few minutes. The
girls hastily scribbled the names of their favourites, many of them in
feigned handwritings, fastened their envelopes, and then returning
them to Miss Douglas, left the classroom.
"I wonder how soon we shall know the result!" said Netta, as the Form
trooped downstairs.
"It depends upon how soon Miss Roscoe has time to count them," replied
Iris Watson. "She may be in her study now, or she may be too busy to
look at them until four o'clock."
"Too bad to leave us in suspense."
"I'm not going to think about it," said Charlotte Perry. "It will be
time enough to rejoice or moan when one knows."
"Oh, bother the election!" said Betty Brierley. "Come and see if we
can get a court and have a set before dinner."
Netta did not follow the others to the tennis grounds. She was much
more anxious about the result of the ballot than they, and had no
heart at present for playing. Instead, she walked into school again,
and finding the door of Miss Roscoe's study open, she peeped in. The
room was empty, and on the desk lay the nineteen envelopes, each
marked solely with a large V, that represented the voting of the Fifth
Form. Netta looked at them wistfully. How she longed to open them and
learn their contents! Such a proceeding was, of course, impossible,
and she turned away with a sigh. As her glance wandered round the
room, she noticed a large parcel of stationery which had just been
unpacked, and lay spread upon a side table. Miss Roscoe had evidently
opened it to get the paper and envelopes needed for the election, and
had not yet had time to put it away in the drawers of her secretaire.
Then suddenly an idea occurred to Netta--an idea so original and
daring that she almost laughed at her audacity in entertaining it. It
was a scheme which no other girl in the Form would have dreamt of for
a moment, but Netta was troubled with few scruples of conscience, and
was never deterred by a question of honour from attaining her wishes.
Very quickly she abstracted nineteen envelopes and ten sheets of
notepaper, and fled with her spoil to her own classroom. She bolted
along the passage and upstairs in such a tremendous hurry that she did
not notice the impish face of Ida Bridge peering from the Second Form
room as she passed.
"Oho, Miss Netta Goodwin! What's the matter with you?" thought Ida.
"You have an uncommonly guilty look about you, almost as if you were
committing a crime. What's up, I wonder? I think I'm just going to
track you and see."
Since the stormy episode on the day when the Second Form girls were
rehearsing for their morris dance, Ida Bridge had detested Netta. She
felt she owed her a grudge, which she was most anxious to pay if a
reasonable opportunity could only be found. She followed now post
haste, and adopting the tactics of a scout, waited till Netta was
safely inside the Fifth Form room, then peeped cautiously round the
door. What she saw did not particularly enlighten her. Netta was
busily tearing sheets of notepaper in half, was scribbling something
on them, blotting them and putting them into envelopes. No one else
was in the room, and there was nothing to suggest an explanation of
this rather mysterious employment.
"I'm sure she's up to something, though," murmured Ida to herself,
still keeping a watchful eye on the enemy's movements. Netta wrote
away, and kept folding her pieces of paper with record speed; there
was a complacent look on her face, and she chuckled occasionally, as
if with deep satisfaction. At the sound of the dinner bell she
started, and hurriedly swept her correspondence into her desk. Ida,
with admirable presence of mind, bolted into the empty Sixth Form room
opposite, and having seen Netta depart down the corridor, took the
liberty of going to make an inspection of what she had been doing.
"Um--indeed! What have we here?" said Ida, opening the desk.
"Envelopes marked with a V, and sheets of paper with names on. Let's
take a look at them. 'Hilda Browne--Netta Goodwin.' 'Netta
Goodwin--Gwen Gascoyne.' 'Betty Brierley--Netta Goodwin.' 'Charlotte
Perry--Netta Goodwin.' All in such different styles of writing, too! I
believe I begin to see daylight. Now, shall I go and call Miss Douglas
at once to look at this? No--it's incriminating, but not sufficient
evidence to convict. I must let things develop a little further first.
I think I'd better have a witness, too. Miss Netta Goodwin, I believe
you're going to be rather too clever for once, and that you'll find
yourself outwitted by one of the despised Juniors."
Ida Bridge was late for dinner that day, but she took Miss Roscoe's
reproof with a sangfroid at which her Form marvelled.
"I don't care if I have to write fifty lines as a punishment," she
murmured to her neighbour and chum, Peggy Weston. "What I've just
discovered is worth a thousand lines. I can't explain why now, but the
moment dinner is over you and I must stalk Netta Goodwin, and, without
letting her know it, never take our eyes off her till afternoon school
begins."
Quite unconscious that two small spies had resolved to keep her
movements under surveillance, Netta slipped away from her friends
after dinner, and returned to the classroom. It did not take her long
to finish her task; she had soon fastened her nineteen envelopes,
then, concealing them in an exercise-book cover, she hurried
downstairs. Miss Roscoe's study was still empty, and nobody seemed
about, for Netta never noticed the cautious pair who were dodging and
watching in her rear as cleverly as a couple of young detectives.
After a hasty glance round the room she advanced to the Principal's
desk, and deeming herself quite unobserved, rapidly exchanged the pile
of envelopes there for those which she had brought with her. She gave
one look of satisfaction at the substituted set--they were such an
excellent imitation--and bore off the genuine ballot to the Fifth Form
room. Ida and Peggie, with breathless interest, followed, and saw her
putting the stolen goods into her desk; then, having witnessed as
much as they considered necessary, they flew in hot haste to lodge the
information with their own Form mistress. Miss Broughton, amazed at
what they told her, sought Miss Roscoe, who summoned Ida and Peggie,
and listened attentively to their story.
"This must be enquired into promptly," she declared. "Come with me at
once to the Fifth Form."
The girls had just assembled for afternoon school when the Principal
entered, bearing the substituted pile of envelopes, and accompanied by
Ida and Peggie.
For Miss Roscoe to arrive at such a time was an absolutely
unprecedented occurrence. A dead silence at once reigned. Everybody
wondered what had happened, and why Miss Roscoe should have brought
the two children with her. The headmistress walked straight up to
Netta's seat.
"Netta Goodwin," she said, "such an extraordinary incident has just
been reported to me that I feel it is my duty to investigate it
immediately. I wish to see what you have here," and, throwing up the
lid, she began to investigate the contents of the desk.
Netta gave a gasp as if an earthquake had opened at her feet, and
turned deathly white. She did not venture to say a word. All in the
room waited in mute suspense, realizing that the matter must be of
vital importance. With a sad face Miss Roscoe drew out the nineteen
envelopes and compared them with those which she held in her hand.
"I have a very serious charge against you, Netta Goodwin," she said
sternly. "You were observed in the act of taking these letters from my
study, and substituting a similar set which you had yourself written.
Ida Bridge and Peggie Weston can testify that they themselves
witnessed your deed. I have a strong suspicion of your motive, and I
am going to open the envelopes to ascertain if I am correct."
Putting each pile separately, Miss Roscoe rapidly tore open the two
ballot sets, and glanced over them.
"It is a peculiar circumstance," she remarked icily, "that in the
original voting papers your name occurs only nine times, and in the
substituted papers eighteen times."
A wave of indignation passed round the Form. The girls at last
understood the point, and realized the full significance of Netta's
action. The excitement was intense, though awe for the headmistress
forbade anybody to speak.
"To make absolutely certain," continued Miss Roscoe, "we will take the
voting again. Miss Douglas, will you kindly deal a sheet of exercise
paper to each desk? Now I put everyone on her honour to repeat the
names of the two candidates that she wrote this morning."
For a moment the girls scribbled, then folded the papers and handed
them to Miss Douglas, who went round the room to collect them. Miss
Roscoe examined them attentively, and compared them with some figures
she had jotted down.
"They correspond absolutely with the papers which I have just found in
your desk, Netta Goodwin! Ida Bridge, come here! It is only fair that
Netta should hear your accusation. Tell me again, in her presence,
exactly what you witnessed."
"Please, Miss Roscoe," began Ida in her high-pitched voice, "I saw
Netta come out of your study before dinner, and come here. I peeped
round the door, and she was writing something on half-sheets of paper,
and putting them inside envelopes. Then I told Peggie, and afterwards
we watched her go into your study again and put her pile of envelopes
on your table, and take yours away and pop them into her desk."
"Do you endorse this statement, Peggie Weston?"
"Yes, Miss Roscoe, it's quite true," murmured Peggie nervously.
"Netta Goodwin, have you anything to answer in reply to this charge?"
But Netta kept her eyes on the ground, and did not reply. Miss Roscoe,
who was still standing beside the open desk, began to turn over some
of the loose pieces of exercise paper which it contained, and shook
her head as she noticed the names of various candidates scrawled in
different handwritings, evidently for practice. Determined to
investigate the affair thoroughly, she pulled out yet more papers, and
among them a small roll fastened by a brass clip. At this she glanced
with attention, then with marked surprise. "Netta Goodwin," she
continued, "this is an entirely different matter, but one which I
should like explained nevertheless. Last term you gained a prize for
an essay on Thomas Carlyle. How is it that there is a manuscript of
this essay in your desk, signed 'Gwen Gascoyne'? Yes, and in Gwen's
handwriting, too, which I know well."
Netta glanced hastily at Gwen, who had turned as red as fire. Perhaps
feeling that she had already been so entirely exposed that an added
circumstance would make little difference, and wishing to get Gwen
also into trouble, Netta suddenly resolved to make a full confession.
"I suppose I may as well tell everything," she volunteered sulkily.
"Yes--I did want to get the tennis championship, and I altered the
names because I didn't think I had a chance otherwise. About that
essay, it was Gwen Gascoyne's. She wrote it, but she sold it to me for
a sovereign."
"And you passed it off as your own?"
"I'd paid for it, so I just copied it. I couldn't see where the harm
came in!" said Netta doggedly.
"Netta Goodwin, have you absolutely no sense of right and wrong, or
any vestige of conscience?"
"I can't see that I'm worse than some other people," replied Netta,
with a spiteful glance at Gwen.
"Gwen Gascoyne, did you sell this essay to Netta?"
"Yes, Miss Roscoe," gulped Gwen, covered with shame, and too much
embarrassed to offer any explanation.
"I shall have a word with you later on. Netta, by your own confession
you admit appropriating a schoolfellow's work last term, and altering
the voting papers this afternoon. Forgery is a very ugly word and one
which I am sorry to use, but there is no other name for what you have
done. In all the years of my headmistress-ship here such a thing has
not occurred before. I have had unruly and disobedient girls
occasionally, but in the whole of my experience never a girl so
deliberately bad as you. It is well for the school that this has
occurred, and that I have discovered your true character; your
influence must have been most pernicious, and I can only hope that it
has not already done harm. It is, of course, impossible for me to
allow you to remain at Rodenhurst. It is the first time I have been
obliged to expel a pupil, and I much regret the necessity, but I feel
that to keep you would be to retain a source of moral infection. You
will go home at once. Your books and any other articles belonging to
you will be sent after you, and I shall write to your parents,
informing them of the circumstances under which you have been sent
away. I am grieved for the sorrow which I know it will cause them.
Go!"
Miss Roscoe pointed peremptorily to the door, and Netta, all her
jaunty, self-confident airs gone for once, with downcast eyes that did
not dare to meet the scorn of her schoolfellows, and white lips that
quivered with passion, slunk ignominiously from the room. The
Principal waited a few minutes to allow her time to go downstairs,
then she ordered Ida and Peggie back to their own classroom, and
turned with a sigh to Gwen.
"You will come with me to the study," she said briefly. Gwen followed
in a state of abject misery. Was she never to finish reaping that
harvest of tares, the sowing of which she had already so bitterly
repented. One initial slip had indeed plunged her into undreamt-of
trouble.
"Well, Gwen, you had better tell me all about this unhappy business,"
said Miss Roscoe as soon as they were alone. "Let us get to the bottom
of everything this time, and leave nothing concealed."
Hard though it was to make confession, Gwen was almost glad to have
the opportunity of doing so, and of at last setting straight the last
threads of the tangled web she had woven. She felt that she would have
told before about the essay if Netta had not been implicated, but her
father had agreed that she could not in honour expose her
schoolfellow. By skilful cross-questioning Miss Roscoe soon gathered
the facts of the case.
"I understand," she said thoughtfully; "I am glad you paid back that
sovereign, Gwen! It gives me a higher opinion of you than I should
otherwise have had. I judge that your own conscience and your father's
disapproval have punished you so severely that I can add little more
in the way of reproof. I can trust you not to do such a thing again.
Do I now know absolutely the whole of that transaction?"
"Every scrap!"
"Then we will consider the slate wiped clean."
"Thank you just a thousand times!" said Gwen, as Miss Roscoe with a
nod dismissed her from the study.