NEW EXPERIENCES
It did not take Clayton Reeve very long to gain a pretty clear idea of the
condition of things at the Misses Carter's school, or to realize what
influences had been brought to bear upon his only daughter. To say that he
was keenly disappointed but mildly expresses it, and he reproached himself
bitterly for having left her so long to the care of strangers. He remained
with Toinette until the school closed for the holidays, and the time was
the happiest she had ever known. Nor was it for her alone, for the other
girls came in for their full share. He was a very liberal man, and it gave
him genuine pleasure to make others happy.
The Misses Carter lost no opportunity of putting their establishment in a
favorable light, for they had a strong suspicion that they were in a fair
way to lose something of much more tangible value to themselves: a very
handsome income. But Mr. Reeve easily saw through their little foibles,
and was not deceived by the pretty veneer into believing that all was
strong and firm beneath.
He had traveled about the world too much during the past six years not to
have learned something of human nature, and to read it pretty correctly.
Furthermore, his feeling of self-reproach made him keenly alive to every
change upon Toinette's speaking countenance, and when he saw the look of
questioning surprise which came over it when one or the other of the
Misses Carter made some playful overture at petting her, or one of the
other girls, he drew his own deductions.
When vacation arrived he settled his bill for the year, bade them a
courteous farewell, and, with Toinette, "scraped the dust from his feet
and left the mansion." Then came a two-weeks' holiday such as she had
never even dreamed of. Mr. Reeve took rooms in one of New York's finest
hotels, and gave himself up to the pleasure of renewing his acquaintance
with his daughter. That holiday was never forgotten by either of them, but
for very different reasons.
"By Jove," he said to himself more than once, "I've let a good bit of
precious time, and many happy hours, slip away, if I'm not mistaken, and I
don't know whether I shall ever catch up."
During their stay in the city Mr. Reeve went in quest of his old college
chum, Sydney Powell, Cicely's father, and had an interview with him that
was brief, but very much to the point.
"Go ahead, Clint, old chap, and find what is needed for the little girls,
if you can. Cicely will never go back to the Carter school, and I should
be glad to have the girls keep together. They seem fond of each other. How
would you like to run out to Montcliff to look up that school? I've had
fine reports of it from Fred Hubbard, whose daughter is a pupil there?"
And so it came to pass that directly after vacation the two girls were
escorted to Sunny Bank, as the school was called, and, after a very
satisfactory talk with its sensible principal, Mr. Reeve left them to her
care, feeling sure that this time he had not made any mistake.
Toinette and Cicely had adjoining rooms, and nothing could have been
daintier than the room appointments. From their windows they could look
out over a wide sweep of the western valley, where the sun was just
sinking behind the hills, and leaving upon the sky a glorious promise of
the day to follow.
They were still busy arranging their pretty trifles about the rooms when
the soft chime of the Chinese gong in the wide hall below announced
dinner. Thus far they had not seen any of the other girls, but as they
stepped from their rooms they were met by Miss Preston, who said, as she
slipped an arm about each waist:
"I do not forget how lonely _I_ felt when I first entered a strange
school, so let me try to make it easier for my new girls by introducing
some of my old ones; _real_ old," she added, laughingly, as she called to
two girls who were curled up on one corner of the big divan at the lower
end of the hall.
"Come here, chicks, and let me make you acquainted with Miss Reeve and
Miss Powell. These are Miss Gordon and Miss Osgood, my dears, but as we
are all sort of 'sisters, cousins and aunts' in this big home, I'll just
hint right off that their home names are Ruth and Edith, who will be glad
to welcome my Toinette and Cicely."
By this time they had reached the cheerful dining-room, and with a very
significant exchange of glances Toinette and Cicely took their seats, the
latter whispering under cover of the bustle caused by the entrance of the
other pupils: "My goodness, if Miss Carter had ever spoken like that to
us, we should have fallen flat, shouldn't we?"
Ruth sat upon one side, and Edith upon the other, and it did not take the
new girls long to discover that the dinner hour must be one of the
pleasantest of the day, for all talked and chatted in the liveliest
manner, discussing various happenings, and again and again appealing to
Miss Preston, who was not one whit behind in the spirit of good-fellowship
which prevailed.
There were six tables, each accommodating ten people, and a teacher sat at
the head of each. In every instance a teacher who was wise enough not to
observe _too_ much, but who in reality saw everything, although she could
laugh and joke with the girls, put them at their ease, and at the same
time set them so perfect an example that few girls would have cared to
fail in following it. Far from exercising a restraining influence, they
proved the jolliest of companions, as the repeated appeals to their
opinions, or the requests for some anecdote or amusing story, evidently
old favorites, amply testified.
When the pleasant dinner was ended the girls gathered in the big hall,
where Toinette and Cicely were introduced to many of the others.
"What have we to do now?" asked Toinette, whose sharp eyes had been
observing everything worth observing, and whose active mind had received
more impressions within the past hour than it had been called upon to
receive in a year. It is needless to add that she was quick enough to
profit by them, and to appreciate that in _this_ school were taught more
surprising things than chemistry or science.
"Do?" asked Ruth.
"Yes; isn't there some RULE to be observed after dinner?" and a rather
ironical tone came into Toinette's voice.
"Yes; come along, and Edith and I'll show you the rule, as you call it,"
answered Ruth, as she caught up the big basket-ball lying upon one of the
chairs in the hall, flew through the door with it, across the piazza and
into the gymnasium beyond.
After an instant's hesitation the two girls followed, joining her and
Edith, who had run Ruth a lively race.
"You don't mean to say that the teachers let you run and romp like this,
do you?" demanded Cicely.
"Let us!" cried Edith in surprise. "Why shouldn't they? We aren't doing
any harm, are we?"
"No, I don't suppose there is any harm, but if we had done such a thing at
Miss Carter's, what do you think would have happened, Toinette?"
Toinette pursed her mouth into the primmest pucker, rolled her eyes in a
horrified way, clasped her hands before her, and said, in a tragic tone:
"Young _ladies!_ Such conduct is most _unseemly_," in such perfect mimicry
of Miss Carter that Ruth and Edith shouted.
"Well, all I can say is, that I'm thankful _we_ were not sent to that
school; aren't you, Ruth?" said Edith.
"Better believe I am," was the feeling reply. "I get skittish even in this
blessed place sometimes, but if I had been sent there I'd have been just
like one of those little red imps that Miss Preston has standing on her
writing table."
"Yes, you'd have felt all rubbed the wrong way, just as Cicely and I feel,
and just hate the sight of a teacher, and want to do everything you could
to plague them," said Toinette, petulantly.
"Well, you won't want to do that _here_" answered Edith, emphatically. "If
you cut any such capers in _this_ school, it won't be the _teachers_ who
will go for you, but the _girls_," with a significant wag of her head.
"The girls?" asked Cicely, with a puzzled expression.
"Certain. We think our school about the best going, and we aren't going to
let anyone else think differently, if we can help it; are we, Ruth? So, if
a girl takes it into her head to be rude and cranky to the teachers, or
other girls, she finds herself in a corner pretty quick, I can tell you."
"Suppose you break the rules?" asked Toinette.
"Aren't any to break," answered happy-go-lucky Ruth, as she pranced down
the big room after the ball, which had gone bouncing off.
"No _rules!_" incredulously.
"Not a single one. All you've got to do is to be nice to everybody,
remember you're a gentlewoman (or you wouldn't be here, let me tell you),
and do your jolly best to pass your examinations. If you don't it is your
own fault, and you have to suffer for it; no one else, that's sure; for
you can have all the help you ask for."
Toinette and Cicely exchanged glances.
"Oh, I daresay you don't believe us," said Edith, who had correctly
interpreted the glances, "but just you wait and see. All the new girls
think the same, and I daresay that we should have, too, if we had come
here from some other school; but, thank goodness, we didn't. There aren't
any more schools like this, are there, Ruth?"
"Nary one; there's only one, and we've got it," cried the irrepressible
Ruth, and two weeks later the girls found that, truly, no rules could be
broken where none existed.