The United Guild Festival
MR. GORDON had been most seriously concerned at the news of Gipsy's
unauthorized flight, and considering the part which his daughter Meg had
played in helping her to escape, he held himself to be morally
responsible for the consequences of so foolish a step, and had started
at once for Liverpool in search of the truant. Until very late at night
he had used all efforts to trace her, but without success; then as soon
as possible in the morning, acting on the knowledge of Gipsy's plans
which Meg had supplied, he had telephoned to every steamship company in
the city that ran vessels to South Africa, giving a description of the
girl, and asking, if she called at the office, that she might be
detained until he could arrive and claim her. By a fortunate chance he
rang up the Tower Line at the very time when Gipsy had presented herself
to enquire for work, so, jumping into a taxicab, he had driven
immediately from his hotel to their offices.
On the whole, Gipsy was so relieved to see a friend who was prepared to
take charge of her that she submitted quite peaceably to be escorted
back to Greyfield. The clerk's hilarity at her application for a
stewardess-ship, and his assurance that such posts were only given to
middle-aged women, had upset her calculations, and remembering her
forlorn condition of the previous night, she was glad not to risk a
repetition of such a painful experience. Mr. Gordon had at first
intended to take her home with him to The Gables, but on telephoning to
his wife on his arrival at Greyfield station, he learnt about the
missing letter which had been discovered in Daisy Scatcherd's coat
pocket, and decided it would be better for her to go straight to
Briarcroft.
The prospect of a letter from her father was a magnet more than
sufficient to draw Gipsy back to school. All fear of Miss Poppleton's
wrath faded away in the excitement of this wonderful news.
"And to think that if I'd gone to South Africa I should have missed it!"
she exclaimed.
Miss Poppleton received the prodigal with wonderful graciousness, and
Miss Edith wept over her, upbraided her, and kissed her all at once.
"Gipsy, darling! How could you be so naughty? You might have known we
were your best friends. I never slept all night for worrying about you;
and I'm sure Miss Poppleton didn't either. To think that you should have
run away from us! And your letter was there all the time, if we'd only
known! It's locked up safely in my desk, all ready for you."
"Give it me now, please!" pleaded Gipsy.
Although Gipsy's return to Briarcroft had been a very desirable
conclusion to the episode of her running away, there were several
matters left which remained in a far from satisfactory condition. In the
first place, though her father's letter had relieved all anxiety about
her school fees and general expenses, and removed her from her former
most unpleasant position, it did not give any clue to his present
whereabouts. Beyond the brief information that he was going to the
sources of a tributary of the Zambesi, she knew nothing. There was no
address given to which she might write, or any definite date fixed for
his return to civilization. The London bankers, with whom Miss Poppleton
at once communicated, had no further knowledge. He seemed to have
disappeared into the unexplored wilds of Central Africa, and to have
left no trace. In view of the dangers to which a pioneering party, such
as he had joined, would be exposed from wild beasts, hostile natives,
lack of food and water, or the hardships of travelling in the interior
of the continent, there was cause for considerable uneasiness on his
behalf. It seemed high time that some news was received of the
expedition. It was now seven months from the date of Mr. Latimer's
letter, and he had apparently expected to return in three or four.
Poor Gipsy conjured up all kinds of fears for her father's safety. She
imagined him ill in some inaccessible spot, without medical aid, or
taken prisoner by a native chief, or--more terrible still--that he had
succumbed to the dangers and difficulties of the journey. She carried
his letter about as her greatest treasure, and kissed it a dozen times a
day; but she felt that, while appreciating its possession, she found it
a very unsatisfactory substitute for the fuller details she coveted of
his present welfare.
Her second trouble was the fact that she was still supposed to be guilty
of that surreptitious outing in the evening, and to have flatly told
falsehoods to screen herself. Gipsy had many faults, but she was
strictly truthful, and this imputation against her honour rankled
sorely. Miss Poppleton had not pressed the matter, probably thinking it
a secondary consideration to her greater crime of running away. In her
relief at receiving a handsome cheque from Mr. Latimer's bankers, the
Principal had decided to forgive Gipsy's past indiscretions, and to
start afresh on a different basis. By a little rearrangement she managed
to find room for Gipsy again in her old dormitory, and the manifold odd
duties which had been assigned to her were entirely removed. Once back
in her favourite No. 3, with a new set of summer clothes and an ample
supply of pocket-money, Gipsy felt reinstated in her former position in
school. With the utmost satisfaction she paid up her arrears of
subscriptions to the Guild, and put straight several other little
matters where she felt she owed a moral if not an actual debt.
"There's only one thing that makes me savage," she declared one evening
to some of her own set who were assembled in the Juniors' room, "and
that is that Poppie still believes I told those awful fibs about not
going out that wet evening. On my honour I spoke the truth. Somebody
else must have gone out in my waterproof."
"What does it matter, now it's all over?" asked Leonora. "Poppie's
forgiven you."
"Why, it matters a great deal. I don't want to be forgiven for what I've
never done. And I don't care to possess a reputation for telling fibs.
Whoever went out in my cloak ought to own up, and if she doesn't, she's
a mean, detestable, contemptible sneak!"
"Shielding herself at your expense!" added Hetty indignantly.
Leonora turned as crimson as the woolwork she was stitching.
"I never thought of it in that way! It really never struck me!" she
gasped. "I'm sure I've no wish to shield myself at anybody's expense.
Why, if you want to know, it was I who went out in your waterproof and
galoshes."
Leonora's announcement made the sensation it deserved.
"You! You!" cried the amazed girls.
"But why did you go?"
"How could you do such a thing?"
"Why didn't you tell?"
"I went for a very simple reason," replied Leonora coolly. "You know how
fond I am of sweets, and what an abominably mean rule there is here
about our not buying them. Well, I just couldn't stand doing without my
chocolates, so I used to dodge out whenever I dared to that little shop
in Mansfield Road, and buy some. On that particular wet evening I was in
a fearful hurry to go before I began practising, so I rushed to the hall
cupboard and seized on the first waterproof and hat and galoshes that
came to hand. I didn't know they were Gipsy's."
"And yet you let her bear the blame!" exclaimed Dilys heatedly.
"I thought, as she hadn't really done it, she'd very soon clear herself.
She could have 'proved an alibi' directly, if the thing had been
properly gone into. There were heaps of girls who could have witnessed
for her. Even though she did crawl under the table and go out of the
room, the times didn't fit in, as Poppie would have found directly, if
she'd troubled to ask."
"That's true. Poppie was utterly prejudiced; she asked a few hasty
questions, never noticed whether the stories agreed, and jumped to a
conclusion," said Hetty.
"Then, when Gipsy came back, Poppie dropped the matter entirely,"
continued Leonora. "I thought she knew she'd made a mistake. I didn't
see any use in getting myself into trouble if I could help it, so I held
my tongue."
"And disgustingly mean of you, too!" exploded Lennie.
"You're the most extraordinary girl, Leonora! I never saw anybody like
you!" commented Dilys.
"You'll tell Poppie now, won't you?" urged Hetty.
Leonora shrugged her shoulders.
"Of course I shall. She can do what she likes. I don't mind if she
expels me! I'm sick of Briarcroft and its strict rules. I'd rather try
another school, where they'd allow one to buy more sweets. I never much
wanted to come here. I think I'll go and explain to Poppie now; she'll
be in the study. If she expels me, I could just go home in time for next
Thursday. Mother's giving a big garden party, and having some Russian
dancers down from London. They're to give a performance on a platform on
the lawn. I'm simply wild to see them!"
As Leonora walked calmly from the room, the girls broke into a universal
"Well!" of astonished comment.
"She didn't even tell you she was sorry, Gipsy!" remarked Lennie.
"Never mind! As long as she sets me right with Poppie I don't care,"
returned Gipsy.
"She seems to want to be expelled," said Dilys.
"Poppie's pet won't be expelled, no fear!" laughed Hetty. "Catch Poppie
parting with her millionairess! She's much too good an advertisement for
the school."
"I think Poppie'll have somewhat to say on the subject, though!"
remarked Dilys.
Both Dilys and Hetty proved right. Leonora was not expelled, but Miss
Poppleton gave her a severe lecture on the error of her ways, and a
warning against any further transgression of Briarcroft rules. She
returned to the Juniors' room in a very chastened frame of mind.
"Poppie was as hard as nails," she volunteered. "She won't let me go
home on Thursday to the garden party, so I shan't see the Russian
dancers. Isn't it a shame?"
"Well, in my opinion it about serves you right, Leonora Parker,"
retorted Dilys. "You've looked at the affair all along entirely from
your own point of view. I don't believe you'd have told now if you
hadn't wanted to go home. You've not begged Gipsy's pardon yet."
"Oh, never mind!" said Gipsy magnanimously. "What do I care, now it's
all serene with Poppie? I've proved I don't tell fibs, anyhow. I like
people to know I'm straight and square and above-board, and since
that's put right, I vote we drop the subject."
"I shall have the picnic next week, even if I don't see the Russian
dancers," murmured Leonora.
The suggestion of a united picnic for the whole of the Lower School,
which had been unanimously carried at the Guild meeting, had been
approved by Miss Poppleton, and the date fixed for a day early in July.
As it was the first outing in connection with the United Guild, the
girls were anxious to celebrate the occasion with as much observance as
possible. It had been decided to visit a castle about six miles away,
and it was thought that the ruins would provide a picturesque setting
for something in the nature of a grand ceremony.
"Like the Freemasons, you know," said Gipsy, "or any of those old
'worshipful companies' that meet and have big dinners and enjoy
themselves."
"What do the Freemasons do?" enquired Lennie. "I thought their meetings
were dead secrets."
"So they are; but sometimes they have processions through the streets,
and carry banners. We might have a banner, and wear badges."
The idea of a banner appealed to the girls, who set to work with the
greatest enthusiasm to make one. It was designed by Fiona Campbell, and
carried out by a committee of six, chosen for their skill in needlework.
It had a cream-coloured ground, on which was a bold pattern, in
applique, of pink briar roses with green leaves, meant as a delicate
compliment to Briarcroft. In the centre, in large green letters, was the
motto chosen by the Guild: "United we Stand". It was decided at a
special meeting that every member must wear a briar rose for a badge,
and as real wild roses seemed too perishable to be of much use, an extra
committee undertook to construct a sufficient quantity of artificial
ones out of crinkled paper. Officers were to wear pale pink sashes, tied
over the right shoulder and under the left arm, and a wreath of pink
roses round their hats. The form of ceremony for the occasion was
entrusted to Gipsy's fertile brain, for nobody else felt equal to
inventing it. These preparations naturally absorbed all the energies of
the Lower School. Many willing hands set to work to make paper flowers,
copying a very pretty specimen of a briar rose twisted by the drawing
mistress out of pink crinkled paper, with a most natural-looking green
leaf, and secured with fine wire.
Gipsy, who wished the affair to be a great day in the annals of the
Juniors, kept adding fresh items to her ceremonial programme till she
made a list that filled her with satisfaction. There was nothing she
loved so dearly as inventing entertainments, and this festival gave her
just the opportunity for which she longed. As organizing secretary she
was allowed full powers of administration, so she picked out her
performers, called rehearsals, and arranged every detail with scrupulous
care and attention.
The school picnic had generally been held on Saturdays, but thinking the
castle would be more free from visitors on a Friday, Miss Poppleton had
granted a special half-holiday for the purpose. Most fortunately the day
turned out to be fine, and by two o'clock seventy-four excited Juniors
were waiting for the arrival of the wagonettes that were to convey them
to the ruins. Each Form was accompanied by its own mistress, and Miss
Poppleton and Miss Edith completed the party. Every girl wore her briar
rose badge, and the officers their sashes and wreaths. The banner was
carried rolled up, but ready to be unfurled when the ceremonies should
begin. Riggside Tower, the old ruined keep that was the goal of their
excursion, had a romantic history of its own, and had been the scene of
many an exciting struggle in border warfare. The guidebook related the
legends of illustrious prisoners, fierce hand-to-hand combats, doughty
champions, secret passages, underground dungeons, thrilling escapes, and
other episodes of the past that added greatly to the attraction of the
ancient building.
Some of the girls had been there before, but to others it was a fresh
spot, and all looked with interest as the wagonettes turned a particular
corner of the road where the first glimpse of the castle could be seen.
It was a grey, turreted fortress, with half of its west wall battered
down by Cromwell's cannon, and the rest in a crumbling state, chiefly
held together by the great masses of ivy that clung round the worn
stones. In former days it must have been grim and bare enough, but
kindly Nature had thrown her mantle of greenery around it, and softened
its rugged outlines. Wallflowers and scarlet valerian and the pretty
trailing ivy-leaved toadflax were growing in every nook and cranny where
they could find roothold; a thick grove of trees clothed the base of the
south front; and the courtyard was a strip of verdant sward thickly
covered with daisies. Gipsy took a survey of the old keep with the
greatest complacency. No place could possibly have provided a better
background for the pageant she had arranged. The courtyard made a
natural theatre, and the stones lying about would provide seats for the
audience. Happily there were very few visitors that day, so they had the
castle almost to themselves, and could go through their programme
without interfering with the convenience of other people. It was decided
to begin the ceremonies at once, so that they would be over in good time
before tea.
The banner, which had been rolled on two school pointers, was unfurled
and borne aloft by Lennie Chapman and Meg Gordon, and very fine it
looked with its design of wild roses and its motto in the centre. The
members of the Guild, walking two and two, fell into line, and, preceded
by the banner bearers and the chief officers, marched round the
courtyard.
Barbara Kendrick had been constituted crier, and, ringing a small
handbell, shouted the opening announcement in true mediaeval fashion:
"Oyez! Oyez! Oyez! Be it known to one and all that this worshipful
companie is the Briarcroft United Juniors' Guild."
As the girls marched they chanted a ditty, the words of which had been
composed by Gipsy for the event, though the music was out of one of the
school song books:
"We've met to-day to celebrate
A very great occasion,
We wish to show by this display
Our Guild's inauguration.
"For be it known to one and all,
This blissful companie
Doth now unite all former Guilds,
So many as there be.
"Athletics, Music, Drama, Arts,
We do include them all
In the United Juniors' Guild
We form at Briarcroft Hall.
"Each member's pledged to do her best
To aid the common weal,
And to the tenets of the Guild
Aye to be stanch and leal.
"Then wave the banner, flaunt the badge,
And Crier, ring the bell!
Good luck to our United Guild!
Long may it prosper well!"
Miss Poppleton, Miss Edith, and the mistresses, who composed the
audience, applauded heartily at the end of the marching song.
It had made a good introduction for the Guild, and an opening for the
proceedings which were to follow. Gipsy's programme had been drawn up
somewhat on the lines of a May Day masque; she herself called it "The
Festival of the Briar Rose". It consisted of a number of songs and
dances, appropriate to the occasion, which she had collected from the
repertoire of the Lower School. Each Form took its own turn. The little
girls of the First performed a charming flower dance, the Second sang a
madrigal in praise of summer and the Lower Third a May Day glee, the
Upper Third executed a lively Tarantella, the Lower Fourth took Sir
Roger de Coverley, the Upper Fourth chanted an Elizabethan Ode to the
Spring, while at the end the whole Guild joined in a morris dance.
Besides wearing their badges, the girls had brought with them some
garlands and a number of bunches of flowers, to be used in the dances,
so that the whole affair, seen against the background of the ancient
tower, had a most romantic and picturesque effect. A few parties of
visitors, who were looking over the castle, stopped to watch the
performance, and appeared greatly to enjoy it. To Miss Poppleton and the
teachers the various items were of course well known, as they had been
often rendered at school; but thus combined, in such suitable
surroundings, they made quite a pretty pageant. Gipsy was in her
element, marshalling, conducting, directing, and acting leader, while
all the time taking her own part in the singing and dancing. As the
members ranged themselves at the end, and wound up the programme with
"God Save the King", she felt a thrill of delighted gratification. The
Guild, which had begun under her auspices, and which she had so
carefully fostered, seemed a well-established institution of the Lower
School, likely to continue and flourish among the Juniors for many years
to come. If she had done nothing else during her three terms at
Briarcroft, it was a satisfaction to feel that she had accomplished this
much. Perhaps some such thought struck her companions.
"Hip, hip, hip, hooray for the Guild!" shouted Hetty Hancock. "And hip,
hip, hip, hooray for the Festival! And hip, hip, hip, hooray, girls, for
our secretary, Gipsy Latimer! She arranged it all, and she deserves a
hearty vote of thanks."
As the vigorous cheers rang out, Gipsy stood with flushed cheeks and
shining eyes. It was sweet to have her schoolgirl triumph, and to feel
that her efforts on behalf of her fellow Juniors had met with so much
appreciation.
When the applause died away and the girls broke up, a stranger, who from
behind a portion of the ruins had been an eager witness of the
proceedings, stepped up to Miss Poppleton.
"I should like to add my congratulations," he remarked. "Perhaps you
don't remember me? If I may have one word with the little secretary of
your Guild, she will tell you who I am."
But at that moment Gipsy caught sight of him, and with one wild cry of
"Father!" flung herself into his arms.
How Mr. Latimer had arrived upon the scene at such an extremely
opportune moment demands a word of explanation, so we will narrate his
story as he told it to Gipsy afterwards. In the previous November, after
landing at Cape Town, he had joined a pioneering expedition, and gone
far into the interior to prospect for minerals. The little party had
experienced many hardships, perils, and privations, but had been very
successful in its discoveries, finding a rich vein of gold that promised
a handsome return when worked. Once back at Cape Town, Mr. Latimer had
taken the first vessel to England, landing there with the mails. Finding
that he could reach Briarcroft as soon as a letter, he had decided to go
straight there in person, instead of writing to Gipsy to tell her of his
coming. On his arrival at the school, he had learnt that his daughter,
with a number of her companions, had started for a picnic at Riggside
Tower; so, keeping the taxicab in which he had driven from Greyfield
station, he had followed at once to the castle. Finding the Guild
celebrations in progress, he had not interrupted the programme, but,
concealing himself in an angle where he could see without being seen, he
had remained an interested spectator of the pageant, waiting till the
affair was over before he made his presence known.
Gipsy's rapture at this reunion was enough to compensate her for all the
trouble she had endured during her father's absence. "You won't go away,
Dad, and leave me again?" she pleaded.
"No, sweetheart! Fortunately I have business in connection with these
newly discovered mines that will keep me in England for a year or two.
You can continue at Briarcroft, where by all appearance you seem to be
much appreciated, and we can spend all your holidays together. No more
gadding about the world just at present. Will that suit you, little
woman?"
"Splendiferously!" answered Gipsy, with a sigh of ecstasy.
* * * * *
There is very little more to be told. For Gipsy the sequel was a time of
intense thankfulness and utter content. Two matters, however, which
disturbed her, she brought to her father's notice, and he at once
settled them to their common satisfaction.
He paid a visit to the secondhand shop of Mr. Daniel Lucas in Greyfield,
and bought back her watch and chain; and though he was obliged to pay
four pounds to regain what she had parted with for ten shillings, he
was glad to get possession on any terms of what was to him a treasure to
be valued for old time's sake. He further hunted out the little
confectioner at Waterloo who had sheltered his daughter in her hour of
need, and gave her not only his heartfelt thanks, but a more substantial
token of his appreciation. Gipsy, you may be sure, lost no time in
introducing him to her friends the Gordons, for whose share in fetching
her back from Liverpool Mr. Latimer considered he owed a debt of
gratitude. It was arranged that the two families should spend a summer
holiday together in Switzerland--an event to which Donald, Meg, and
Gipsy, with their thoughts on the joys of mountaineering, looked forward
with the keenest anticipation.
"I've only one regret," confessed Gipsy on the breaking-up day. "If I'm
moved up next term into the Fifth, I shan't be Lower School any more,
and it will mean goodbye to the United Guild."
But as none of us can remain stationary, and all growings are
outgrowings, I think we may safely predict that Gipsy, who won her way
as leader of the Juniors, will have an equally successful career among
the Seniors, and that her name will be handed down in the annals of
Briarcroft institutions as that of one who upheld the common weal, and
whose record was an asset to the school.
* * * * *
PRINTED IN GREAT BRITAIN
_By Blackie & Son, Limited, Glasgow_
* * * * *
Transcriber's Notes:
Obvious punctuation errors repaired.
Page 66, "appearance" changed to "appearances" (but for appearances'
sake)
Page 116 "sh" changed to "she" (for it if she)
Page 256, "sake's" changed to "time's" (time's sake)
End of Project Gutenberg's The Leader of the Lower School, by Angela Brazil