PRIDE OF PLACE
Next morning directly after breakfast, Dorothy, in company with the
other new girls—about a dozen of them—went off to the study of the
Head, to be examined as to place in the form, and general capacity.
It was not usual for any girl, whatever her age, to be received at once
into the Sixth, and Dorothy was accordingly given a Fifth Form paper to
fill. When she had done this, and it had been passed to the Head by the
form-mistress who was assisting her, Miss Arden, after reading down her
answers, immediately passed her another paper—and this a Sixth Form
one—to fill. This was a much stiffer matter, and Dorothy worked away
with absorbed concentration, not even noticing that the other girls had
all done, and left the room. But none of them had been given a second
paper, so she was to be forgiven for being the last.
The Head was called for at that moment. It was a couple of hours later
before Dorothy knew her fate. Meanwhile the whole of the Sixth and the
Upper Fifth were gathered in the lecture hall for a lecture on zoophytes
by Professor Plimsoll, who was the natural history lecturer for the
Compton Schools. He was a young man, and very enthusiastic. Dorothy was
so surprised to find how interesting the subject could be made that she
sat listening, entranced by his eloquence, until a nudge from Daisy
Goatby, sitting next to her, recalled her to her surroundings.
“Take notes, duffer, take notes,” whispered Daisy with quite vicious
energy. “If you sit staring like a stuck pig at my lord, you will get
beans when he has finished, and he has a way of making one feel a very
worm.”
Dorothy made a valiant effort to scribble things on paper; but the next
minute her head was up again, and she was staring at the professor, so
absorbed in what he was saying that she quite forgot Daisy’s kindly
warning anent the need of looking busy.
All round her the girls were bent over their notebooks industriously
scribbling: some of them were taking notes in writing they would
certainly not be able to read later. One or two were writing to friends,
but the main of them were jotting down facts which should serve as pegs
on which to hang their ideas when they had to write out what they could
remember.
Professor Plimsoll was suave in his manner, a gentleman, but withal very
hot-tempered, and a terror to slackers. He noticed Dorothy’s absorbed
attention, and was at first rather flattered by it; then observing that
she took no notes, and that her gaze had a dreamy quality, as if her
thoughts were far away, his temper flared up, and he determined to make
an example of her. Nothing like beginning as he meant to go on. If he
allowed such a flagrant case of laziness to pass unrebuked at the first
lecture of the term, what sort of behaviour might he not have to put up
with before the end of the course?
He was nearly at the end of his lecture, when he stopped with dramatic
suddenness, pointing an accusing finger at Dorothy.
“The name of that young lady, if you please?” he said with a little bow
to the form-mistress, who had come into the lecture with the girls.
“That is Dorothy Sedgewick,” answered Miss Groome with a rather troubled
air. She was sorry that the professor should fall upon a new girl at the
first lecture of term; to her way of thinking it did not seem quite fair
play.
“Miss Dorothy Sedgewick, may I beg of you to step up here?” The
professor’s tone was bland—he was even smiling as he beckoned her to
come and stand by his side; but the girls who had attended his lectures
before knew very well that he was simply boiling with rage, and from
their hearts pitied Dorothy.
She rose in her place and walked forward. She was still so absorbed in
what she had been listening to that she did not sense anything wrong. It
did not even seem strange to her that she should be called forward. She
was the only new girl present at the lecture, and she supposed it might
be the ordinary thing for fresh girls to be called forward in this
fashion.
“Will you permit me to see the notes you have taken?” he asked in a
voice that was curiously soft and gentle, although his eyes were
flashing. He held out his hand as he spoke, and Dorothy handed him her
notebook, saying in an apologetic tone, “I am so sorry, but I have not
taken any notes, I was so interested.”
Professor Plimsoll permitted himself a smile, and again his eyes
flashed, just as if they were throwing off little sparks. He glanced at
the blank page of the notebook, then gave it back to her, saying in that
curiously soft and gentle tone, “Since you have been too interested to
take notes, perhaps you will be so very kind as to tell us what you can
remember of the things I have been telling you; especially I should be
glad to hear what has interested you most.”
Dorothy looked at him in surprise; even now, so restrained and
controlled was his manner, she did not realize how furiously angry he
was, but supposed that he had called her out because of her being a new
girl, and that her position in the school would in some way be
determined by what she could do now. It had been the custom in her old
school for girls to have to stand up and talk in class; and although
this was a much more formidable affair, she was not so much embarrassed
as she would have been but for her training in the past.
Speaking in a rather low tone, she began at the beginning. In many
places she quoted the professor’s own words. Once she left out a little
string of facts, and went back over her ground, marshalling them into
the proper place, and then went steadily on up to the very point where
the professor stopped so suddenly.
The silence in the lecture hall was such as could be felt; some of the
girls, indeed, were sitting open-mouthed with amazement at such a feat
of memory. But there was a ghost of a smile hovering about the lips of
Miss Groome—she was thinking how the professor would have to apologize
to the new girl for having so misjudged her.
If Professor Plimsoll was fiery in temper, he was also a very just man.
The girls must have known he had been angry, even though Dorothy did not
seem to have realized it, and it was due to himself, and to them, that
he should make what amends he could.
“Miss Dorothy Sedgewick,” he began, and he bowed to her as impressively
as he might have done to royalty, “I have to beg your pardon for having
entirely misunderstood you. When I saw that you took no notes I was
angry at what I thought was your laziness, and new girl though you were,
I determined to make an example of you, and that was why I called you
forward in this fashion. I do apologize most sincerely for my blunder,
and I am charmed to think that I shall have a student so able and
painstaking at my lectures this term.”
Great embarrassment seized upon Dorothy now. She turned scarlet right up
to the roots of her hair as she bowed, murmuring something inaudible,
and then she escaped to her seat amidst a storm of cheering from the
excited girls.
Professor Plimsoll held up his hand for silence. The lecture went on to
its end, but it is doubtful whether Dorothy got much benefit from the
latter part. The girls all around her were showing their sympathy each
after her kind, but she was angry with herself because she had lacked
the penetration to see that she had really been an object of pity.
When the lecture was over, and they all streamed out of hall carrying
their notebooks, they fell upon her, cheering her again, and patting her
on the back with resounding thumps just by way of showing friendliness.
“Oh, Dorothy, you were great!” cried Hazel, struggling through the crowd
to reach her. “It was priceless to see you standing there beside my
lord, giving him back his old lecture on creepy-crawlies as calmly as if
you had been brought up to that kind of thing from infancy. His eyes
gogged and gogged until I thought they would have come right out of
their sockets! And then to see the way he climbed down and grovelled at
your feet, oh, it was rich!”
“Dorothy, how did you remember it all?” cried Margaret, thrusting
several girls aside and coming eagerly close up to Dorothy.
“I don’t know; I cannot always remember things so well,” she answered.
“But it was all so interesting, and the professor has such a way of
ticking his facts off, it is so easy to keep them in mind.”
“There is one comfort,” said Hazel. “You will be certain to be in the
Sixth after the little affair of this morning.”
“I don’t know about that,” replied Dorothy, thinking of some of the
questions on the paper she had filled in that morning.
A little later there came to her a message summoning her to the Head’s
private room, and she went in fear and trembling. If she was put in the
Sixth, she would be able to enter for the Lamb Bursary; if she was not
in the Sixth her chance would be gone for always, for she knew that it
was quite impossible for her to stay at school for more than one year.
Miss Arden was very kind; she made Dorothy sit down, and drawing out the
Sixth Form examination paper, began to talk to her about it.
“In many ways,” began the Head, speaking in her calmly assured manner,
“I do not think you are up to the level of the Sixth, but in other
things you are very good indeed. I was still debating whether to put you
straight into the Sixth, or to keep you for one term in the Upper Fifth
to see how you would shape; but before I had really made up my mind,
Professor Plimsoll came in and told me of what happened at his lecture.
He was so impressed with your ability that, acting on his suggestion, I
am going to put you straight into the Sixth, and I hope that you will
work hard enough to justify me in having done this. It is very unusual
for a new girl to be put into the Sixth. Different schools have
different methods of work, and a girl has usually to be with us a little
time before we feel sufficiently sure of her. However, I hope it is all
going to be quite right.”
“Thank you very much; I will be sure to work,” murmured Dorothy, and her
eyes were shining like two stars at the prospect before her; then she
asked in a low tone, her voice a little shaken, “May I enter for the
Lamb Bursary, now that I am going to be in the Sixth?”
Miss Arden smiled. “You can enter if you wish. Indeed, I shall be very
glad if you do. Even if you are not within seeing distance of getting
it, the discipline and the hard work will be good for you. It will be
good for the others too, for the more candidates the better the work
that is done. Rhoda Fleming was to have left last term, but she has come
back for the purpose of competing. I hope that next week, when the
candidates are enrolled, a good number of the Sixth will offer
themselves.”
Dorothy went out from the presence of the Head, feeling as if she was
walking on air. How wonderful that she was in the Sixth! How still more
wonderful that it was really her humiliation at Professor Plimsoll’s
lecture which was the means of putting her there. It had not seemed a
very awful thing to stand up beside the professor and repeat to him what
she remembered of his lecture, but it had been a very keen humiliation
indeed to find that he had considered her a time-waster, and had really
called her out to shame her in the eyes of the others. She had suffered
tortures while the girls were cheering her. Yet if all that had not
happened, she would not have been in the Sixth now, with the possibility
of winning the Lamb Bursary in front of her.
Rhoda Fleming was coming down the stairs as she went up. Just when
passing, Rhoda leaned towards her, and smiling maliciously, murmured,
“Prig!”
Dorothy’s temper flared. It was an outrage that this girl who was a
thief should call her names. She jerked her head round to hurl a
scathing remark after the retreating figure, then suddenly checked
herself. True pride of place was to hold one’s self above the sting of
insults that were petty. After all it did not matter who called her
prig, provided she was not that odious thing.