MEG'S CONSCIENCE.
All went well for a time in the school, and all would have gone well
for a much longer period had it not been for Meg Drummond. Meg did not
mean to make mischief; but, alas! she was troubled by a conscience.
This she considered very virtuous and noble on her part; but she was
also troubled by something else, which was neither virtuous nor noble.
She seemed jealous--frantically jealous--of Leucha Villiers.
Lady Crossways had spoken of her young daughter as 'my cold,
distinguished child, who never wears her heart on her sleeve.' Lady
Crossways was very proud of this trait in Leucha, and Leucha herself
was proud of it, and treasured and fostered it until she came across
Hollyhock. From the first she was attracted by Hollyhock--a queer sort
of attraction, a mingling of love and jealous hate; but now it was all
love, all devotion. As a matter of fact, she tried Hollyhock very
much, following her about like the kitchen cat when she smelt cream,
fawning upon her in a way which soon became repulsive to Hollyhock,
refusing to have any other friend, and over and over again in the day
kissing Hollyhock's hands, her brow, her cheeks, her lips. All this
sort of thing was pure torture to Hollyhock. But although she was
terribly tried, she determined to go through with her mission, and
hoped ere long to train Leucha into finer and grander ways. By their
father's permission, Leucha was invited to accompany the Flower Girls
to The Garden on a certain Saturday. The boys looked at her with
undisguised disdain, and expressed openly their astonishment at
Hollyhock's taste; but when she begged of them to be good to the poor
girlie, the Precious Stones succumbed, as they ever did, to bonnie
Hollyhock.
The school had been open now for some time, and the full number of
seventy was made up. Leucha was now so infatuated with Hollyhock that
she no longer regretted her being the queen of the school. Hollyhock,
for her part, held serious conversations with her sisters about the
girl whom she had so strangely conquered.
'We must make a woman of her,' said Hollyhock. 'She is naught in life
but a cringing kitchen cat at present, but it is our bounden duty to
turn her into something better. How shall we set to work, lassies?'
The Flower Girls considered. Jasmine inquired anxiously if Leucha was
clever in any particular branch.
'No,' said Hollyhock; 'she could not even make a ghostie.'
'Well, can we not pretend that she is clever?' said Gentian.
'That's a good notion,' exclaimed Hollyhock. 'I have heard whispers
that there are big prizes to be given in the school by the Duke to the
girls that are best in different subjects. _We_ don't want prizes, not
we; but that little Leuchy, she 'd be up to her eyes with joy if we
were to set her trying for a prize. I 'm thinking that Mrs Macintyre
will declare the nature of the prizes very soon. After prayers
to-morrow I 'll set Leuchy on to try for one. I 'll help her, if I
can, privately. She has got what I have not, and that's ambition. I
can work on that; and, lassies, it will be a great relief to me, for I
hate--I _hate_ being purred on and kissed all day long. I must put up
with it; but it's trying, seeing my own nature is contrariwise to that.'
The five girls talked a while of the coming prizes.
Leucha was now under the charge of Jasper, and they got on tolerably
well, for Jasper would do anything in the world for Hollyhock, and as
Hollyhock was the only love of Leucha's life, she talked on no other
subject whatsoever to the lad.
'Well,' he exclaimed, 'you surely don't tell me that you kiss
her--_kiss_ Holly!--and she so prickly with thorns?'
'Indeed, I do, Jasper. She loves my kisses; she would not take them
from any one else.'
'Wonders will never cease,' said Jasper. 'I would not disgrace the
bonnie dear by stupid old kisses.'
'But you are a boy, Jasper. You 're quite different,' said Leucha.
'Well, I'm thinking not so very. I'm first cousin to her, remember,
which happens to be next door to brother. But there, let's talk of
something else. What mischief is the dear up to now?'
Leucha related a few harmless little pranks, for Hollyhock did not dare
to give vent to her real spirit of mischief while Leucha clung round
her like the kitchen cat.
The next day Leucha and the Flower Girls returned to the school, and,
as Hollyhock had predicted, Mrs Macintyre called her flock around her
and said that she had an announcement to make regarding an arrangement
winch would be a yearly feature in the school. Six prizes of great
magnificence were to be awarded at the Christmas 'break-up.' These
were as follows:
(1) For efficiency in learning.
(2) For those games now so well known in schools.
(3) For the best essay of about one thousand words, the subject to be
selected by each girl herself. The only proviso was that she must not
tell the other girls who were competing what subject she had chosen;
otherwise an absolutely free choice was given, and even Mrs Macintyre
was not to know the subjects selected before the momentous day when the
papers were given in.
(4) A prize for good conduct generally.
(5) A prize for progress made in French, German, and Italian history
and conversation, the girls choosing, however, only one of these three
great languages.
(6) And, greatest of all, a prize was to be given--and here the
head-mistress could not help glancing for a brief moment at her dearly
loved Hollyhock--to one of the girls who was so brave that she feared
nothing, and so kind-hearted that she won the deep affection of the
entire school.
The prizes were the gift of the great Duke of Ardshiel, and were to
take the form of lockets with the Duke's own crest set on them in
sparkling diamonds. The girls were to choose their own subjects, and
in especial were to choose their own ordeal for the final test of
valour, no one interfering with them or influencing their choice.
These prizes the Duke promised to present year after year. One
condition he made--that a girl who won a gold and diamond locket might
try again, but could not win a second locket; if successful, she would
receive in its place what was called 'A Scroll of Honour,' which was to
be signed by the great Ardshiel himself.
Mrs Macintyre after this announcement requested her pupils to go at
once to their several tasks, only adding that she hoped to receive the
names of the girls who meant to try for the six lockets by the
following evening at latest.
The great and thrilling subject of the prizes was on every one's lips,
and each and all declared that Hollyhock was certain to get the prize
for valour and good-fellowship. What the test would be nobody knew,
and Hollyhock kept her own thoughts to herself. She was deeply
concerned, however, to set Leucha to work, and had a long talk with her
friend on the evening of that day.
'You can try for the essay, Leuchy dear,' she said.
'No, I can't; I haven't got the gift. I have got _no_ gift except my
love for you. Oh, kiss me, Hollyhock; kiss me!'
Hollyhock endured a moat fervent embrace. A voice in the distance was
heard saying, 'Little fool. _I_ cannot stand that nonsense!'
'Who is talking?' said Leucha, standing back, her face assuming its old
unpleasant expression.
'Oh, nobody worth thinking of, dear,' said Hollyhock, who knew quite
well, however, that Margaret Drummond was the speaker. Margaret had
not been friendly to her--not in the old passionate, worshipful
way--since the night of the ghostie. Hollyhock's present object,
however, was to get Leucha to put down her name for the essay,
explaining to her how great would be the glory of the happy winner of
the diamond locket.
'You may be sure it is worth trying for,' said Hollyhock, 'for the
brave old Duke never does anything by halves.'
'Ah, kiss me, kiss me,' said Leucha. 'I'd do anything for you; you
know that.'
'I do; but we won't have much time for kissing when we are busy over
our different tasks. I 'll help you a good bit with your essay,
Leuchy. There's no name given to the subject, so what do you say to
calling it "The Kitchen Cat"?'
'Oh, my word! I was angry with you then,' said Leucha.
'So you were, my bonnie dearie, and I only did it out of the spirit of
mischief; but I can instruct you _right_ well in the ways of the
kitchen cat.'
'I 've always hated cats,' said Leucha.
'You cannot hate wee Jean, and I'll tell you all her bonnie ways.'
'What subject are you going to take yourself, Holly?'
'Oh, I--I 'm in the _danger zone_,' said Hollyhock, with a light laugh.
'It terrifies me even now to think of that ghost!'
'Don't be frightened, Leuchy. He means no harm, and he will not
trouble you again. So don't you trouble your bonnie head, but win the
glorious prize by an essay on the kitchen cat. I can assure you no one
else will choose _that_ subject, so you have the field to yourself, and
well you'll do the work. Don't I _know_ that you 'll get the beauteous
prize with the Duke's crest on it, in the stones that sparkle and
shine?'
'Mother would like that well,' said Leucha. 'She would be just
delighted.'
'Then try for your mother's sake, as well as your own.'
'And you _will_ help me, Holly?'
'To be sure I will. There 's no rule against one girl helping another.
I 'll show you the way it 's to be done, and with your brains, Leuchy,
you'll easily win the prize. Listen now; I 'll put my name down this
very night for the _danger zone_, and you put your name down for the
essay. Then we 'll both be all right.'
The six subjects for competition were taken up by quite half the
school, the girls sending in their names under _noms de plume_ to Mrs
Macintyre, and in sealed envelopes. Never, surely, was there such an
exciting competition before, and never was there such eagerness shown
as by the various pupils who had resolved to try for the locket and
diamond crest of Ardshiel.
All was indeed going smoothly, and all would have gone smoothly to the
end but for the jealous temperament of Margaret Drummond. For a time
she had remained faithful to Hollyhock, but, as she said to Jasmine,
the immortal soul in her breast troubled her, and as the days went by
and jealousy grew apace that immortal soul troubled her more and more.
The final straw came in an unlooked-for and unfortunate way. Leucha
had been asked to spend from Saturday to Monday at The Garden, and on
the following Saturday Margaret Drummond was to accompany the Flower
Girls to their home. The thought of going there and arguing about her
precious soul occupied her much during the week. She was also a fairly
clever girl, and was absorbed in the contest she had entered
for--'General Attainment of Knowledge.' But on Saturday morning there
came a disappointment to her, which roused her ire extremely. It was
news to the effect that Aunt Agnes Delacour was coming to The Garden,
and that she had written a peremptory letter asking that on the
occasion of this rare visit she herself should be the only guest.
It was impossible not to accede to this request. Holly felt both angry
and alarmed, for she was not at all sure of Margaret Drummond; but
there was no help for it. On receiving her father's letter she went at
once to Margaret, who was packing her clothes for the great event, and
begged of her most earnestly to take the matter like a good lass, and
postpone her visit to The Garden until the following Saturday, giving
the true and only reason for this delay.
'Oh!' said Margaret, 'I don't believe you, not for a minute. No woman
would wish to keep a poor girl from her promised enjoyment.'
'You don't know Aunt Agnes, and at least it is not my fault, Margaret,'
said Hollyhock.
'For that matter, I know a lot more than you think,' retorted Meg.
'But times have changed--ay, and much changed, too. I try to keep my
soul calm, but I am not a fool. You don't care for me as you did,
Hollyhock, and I imperilling my immortal soul all for you. You _are_ a
queer girl, Hollyhock Lennox, to forsake one like me, and to take up
with another, and she the shabbiest-natured pupil in the school.'
'Indeed, indeed you mistake, Margaret,' said Hollyhock. 'I did
wrong--we both did wrong that night.'
'Oh, _you_ did wrong, did you? You are prepared to confess, I take it?'
'Oh Meg, to confess would be to ruin all. Have I not won her round?
Is she not better than she was?'
'For my part,' said Meg, 'I see no change, except that she sits at your
feet and smothers you with kisses; but I have my own soul to think of,
and if you don't confess, Hollyhock Lennox, I have at least my duty to
perform.'
'Please, please be careful, Meg. You don't know what awful mischief
you 'll do.'
'I have to think of my soul,' replied Meg; 'but go your ways and enjoy
yourself. No, thank you, I don't want to go to your house this day
week. Perhaps I also can come round wee Leuchy. There's no saying
what you 'll see and what you 'll hear on Monday morning!'
'Meg, you make me so wretched. Are you really going to tell her our
silly little trick?'
'I make no promises; only I may as well say to you, Hollyhock, that my
mind is made up.'
Hollyhock felt almost sick with terror. She flew to Jasmine and got
her to talk to Margaret Drummond, but Margaret had the obstinacy of a
very jealous nature. She was obstinate now to the last degree, and the
departure of the Flower Girls gave her a clear field.
Leucha was extremely lonely without Hollyhock. In her presence she was
cheerful and bright, but without her she was lonely. Tears stood in
her eyes as she bade Hollyhock good-bye, and Hollyhock clasped her to
her heart, feeling as she did so that all was lost, that all efforts
were in vain, that she herself would be publicly disgraced, and that
Leucha would naturally never speak to her again. These things might
come to pass at once. As it was, they did come to pass a little later
on, but on this special Saturday there was a slight reprieve both for
Leucha and for Hollyhock.
Mrs Drummond drove over from Edinburgh in a luxurious motor-car and
took her daughter away, promising to send her back to the school on the
following Monday morning.
Margaret devotedly loved her mother, and was not long in her presence
before the entire story of the ghost and her part therein was revealed.
Mrs Drummond was a most severe Calvinist, a puritan of the narrowest
type. She was shocked beyond measure with her daughter's narrative.
She sat down at once and read her a long chapter out of the Holy Book
on all liars and their awful fate.
Margaret shivered as she listened to her mother's words.
'My dear,' said Mrs Drummond, 'if you do not confess and get that
wicked Hollyhock--what a name!--into the trouble she deserves, you have
your share with those of whom I'm reading. I'll come with you on
Monday morning, and you 'll stand up in front of the entire school and
tell what you and Hollyhock did. Mrs Macintyre will lose her school if
such a thing is allowed.'
'But, oh, mother, I do love Hollyhock. Is there no other way out?'
'Having sinned,' said Mrs Drummond, 'you must repent. Having done the
wicked thing, you must tell of it. Mrs Macintyre will be very shocked,
but I think nothing of that. It is my lassie I have to think of. It
was Providence sent me to fetch you home to-day! There's no other way
out. Confession--full confession--is the only course. You must stand
up and do your part, and that wicked girl will as likely as not be
expelled.'