The Green-eyed Monster
With the summer term came a period of great outdoor activity at
Pendlemere. Miss Chadwick, Miss Carr, and Miss Ormrod were tremendously
busy on the land, and gave the school a thorough initiation into the
principles of gardening. The girls studied birds, noted what insects
they ate, and how useful they were in a garden; they learned the
life-histories of certain insects, and the causes of some plant
diseases; they organized an amateur weather bureau, and kept charts of
the progress of their crops. Everybody agreed that the new regime was
much more interesting than that of the old days when the gardening had
all been done for them, and they had only lounged about the lawn and
played tennis. Each flower seemed twice as beautiful when they had
helped to grow it, and the vegetables of their own cultivation were
voted prize-winners.
Diana, in consideration of her great love for horses, was allowed to
give some assistance in Baron's toilet, and even sometimes to drive him,
a privilege (dependent on good behaviour) which made her supremely
happy.
On the whole, though Miss Todd was undoubtedly rather strict, the girls
decided that the school was jollier than in Mrs. Gifford's days. They
did not forget their former Principal, who wrote to them sometimes from
her new home and told them about her life in Burma, but they had
accepted the changed conditions, and had grown to like them. The outdoor
department seemed to bring a much wider current of life into Pendlemere.
Miss Chadwick and her two assistants were thoroughly modern, and would
discuss all sorts of up-to-date problems, so that the school kept in
touch with the outside world instead of living in the narrow rut of its
own little round of lessons and amusements. This term four elder
students had come, principally to study gardening under Miss Chadwick.
They were girls of eighteen and nineteen, who, instead of being placed
among the school, took somewhat the position of the old-fashioned
"parlour boarder" of sixty years ago, and were on terms of intimacy with
the mistresses. Naturally they were the envy and admiration of those
less fortunate beings who were still only ordinary pupils. They were
good-natured to the schoolgirls, but held themselves a little aloof.
Sometimes, in a rather superior manner, they would condescend to be
friendly. Each had her own train of worshippers. The prettiest and most
attractive of the four was Adeline Hoyle, a tall, fine-looking girl with
dark eyes, a very fair skin, and thick coils of brown hair twisted into
a classic knot. There was a calm dignity about her and a charm of
manner that was exceedingly taking. It bowled over Diana's heart
entirely. She took a sudden and most violent affection for Adeline. She
would hang about to try to get a word with her, flush crimson at the
slightest notice from her idol, and was ready to perform anything in the
way of odd jobs. She even took up sewing--a much neglected part of her
education--in order to embroider a handkerchief-case as a birthday
offering. It is an exhilarating, but rather wearing process to be
violently in love, especially when you are decidedly doubtful as to
whether the loved object in the least appreciates your attentions.
Adeline would accept Diana's sweets or flowers with a kind "Thank you",
and then pat her on the shoulder and tell her to run away. She would
sometimes allow her to link arms in the garden, but it was suffered with
an air of amused tolerance. It was obvious that she very much preferred
the society of Hilary, who was nearer her own age, and that she regarded
intermediates as mere children. Diana, who was eccentric in her likes
and dislikes, but very keen when she took a fancy to anybody, went
through all the stages of longing, hope, elation, despair, and jealousy.
When she saw Hilary received into supreme favour, the green-eyed monster
swooped down and took possession of her. Loveday, who had watched the
progress of the affair with some distress, offered what consolation she
could in the sanctuary of the ivy room.
"Adeline's really very good to you," she comforted.
"Yes, but she doesn't care twopence," raged Diana. "I know she's nice
and kind and all that, but she loves me with the love she'd give to a
distressed negro or a starved cat. I want her to _want_ me--and she
doesn't one little bit! She just tolerates me sometimes, and that's all.
What she can see in Hilary I can't imagine. I think Hilary's the most
detestable girl in the school. I always have disliked her. I _hate_ her
now!"
"Some people say that hating anybody sends out 'thought-forms' like
hideous daggers into the invisible world, and they do dreadful harm, and
in the end they come back to their owners like curses. Can't you manage
to send out some prettier thoughts?"
"No, Loveday Seton; I can't, and won't, and shan't!" said Diana
emphatically, screwing up mouth and eyes into one of her ugliest faces.
"I'm not going to pretend I like Hilary when I don't--that would be a
fiblet and worse than red daggers. Yes, you can call me naughty if you
like. I've got to the stage when I don't care."
Knowing by experience that Diana generally received suggestions in this
way, but sometimes ruminated over her remarks afterwards, Loveday
shelved the question of thought-forms and their possible ill effects,
and petted her spoilt room-mate instead till she cajoled her into a
better temper. The green-eyed monster still reigned, however, and Diana
sat at tea-time flashing, if not red daggers, very obvious untoward
glances, as she caught a smile of comprehension pass between Adeline and
Hilary. Nobody had time to take much notice of her heroics.
Everyone was too busy discussing school affairs. The very latest news
was that the boat-house was at last to be unlocked, the boat thoroughly
overhauled and painted, and that mistresses and students would go rowing
on the lake. A rumour even began to circulate that certain favoured
members of the school might be taken as passengers.
"We used when Mrs. Gifford was here," said Wendy. "She often got Mr.
Thwaites from the village to come and row us. It was top-hole. And once
he let Tattie and me try to row, but I 'caught a crab' and dropped the
oar. I'd soon learn though, if I'd another chance."
"We ought to have two or three boats," decided Sadie.
"One for each form," amended Vi.
"You bet it's only seniors who'll have any luck," groused Diana, who was
still in the depths of despondency.
"There's no knowing," said Jess hopefully.
Though they might not be certain of sharing in the pleasure of
navigating the lake, there was at least an element of anticipation in
the matter. It was just possible that some fine day Miss Todd might say
to one of them: "Put on your jersey and you may go for a row". They felt
it was one of those sporting chances that sometimes turn up in a life.
They hung about the boat-house wistfully when Mr. Appleton from Glenbury
did his task of overhauling, and if he went away for a few minutes they
took advantage of his absence to scramble in and sit inside the boat and
imagine how delightful it would feel to be really on the water. They
began to practise boat-songs, just to be ready for any emergency, and
would sit on the landing-place singing "Row, brothers, row!" or "My
barque is on the shore".
It was very exciting when repairs got to the painting stage, especially
when Diana did not notice, and took a leap inside, with equal disaster
to Mr. Appleton's nice coat of paint and her own serge skirt. Great was
the day when the _Peveril_ at last was dry, and Mr. Appleton launched
her himself on the lake, and took Miss Todd, Miss Beverley, and Miss
Chadwick for a trial trip. The school, watching enviously from the bank,
decided that nothing but a steamer, or a small fleet of rowboats could
satisfy its demands. They considered rowing ought to be a part of every
girl's education.
As Diana had prophesied, the intermediates came in for no luck. Miss
Chadwick and her assistants, with the four gardening students,
monopolized the _Peveril_. They took Miss Todd, Miss Beverley, and Miss
Hampson out for airings on the lake; occasionally a senior was invited,
and once the four youngest girls in the school were given a brief treat.
All the rest had just to look on and long. Diana, indeed, extorted a
sort of half promise from Adeline that some time, when it was
convenient, and if she was not too busy, and if nobody else wanted the
boat, she would let her realize her ambition, but so far this promise
had remained an empty one, a vague invitation that meant nothing. Diana,
catching Adeline in the garden one afternoon, made a desperate effort to
obtain its fulfilment.
[Illustration: DIANA CALLED AND SHOUTED TO THEM. THEY TOOK NO NOTICE]
"Just for ten minutes," she pleaded.
"I'm so busy," evaded Adeline. "I've got seedlings to plant out, and
really haven't time to take people on the lake. What a bother you are,
Diana!"
"You said you would some time."
"Well, so I will; but the time isn't to-day. I've other things to do."
"May I help you to plant the seedlings?"
"No indeed! They need very delicate handling, and I'm responsible to
Miss Chadwick for them. Why don't you go and help Miss Carr?"
With a decidedly snubbed feeling Diana strolled away, not to help Miss
Carr, for it was recreation hour, and she felt at liberty to employ her
leisure as she liked, but to find Wendy or some other congenial spirit.
Wendy, Sadie, and Vi, however, had gone to the village with Miss Ormrod,
and Tattie, Jess, Magsie, and Peggy occupied the tennis-court. Diana was
the only one of the intermediates left out. She felt exceedingly
aggrieved. She stood for a while watching the set; but looking on at
tennis is never very amusing, so she wended her solitary way into the
house to fetch a book. Down the corridor bustled Miss Hampson in a
hurry.
"Diana! I was just wanting somebody, and you'll do. Will you go and tell
Adeline that Miss Todd wishes to speak to her as soon as she's finished
in the greenhouse?"
Miss Hampson, with her arms full of exercise books to correct,
disappeared into the senior room, and Diana departed on her errand.
Adeline was not in the greenhouse. She had not even begun to transplant
the seedlings, though the pots and the soil were ready. Diana waited a
few minutes to see if she would come, then went in quest of her. Bobbing
briskly down the shrubbery path were two heads, a dark one with hair in
a classic knot, and a fair one with a pig-tail. They could just be
distinguished above the line of the laurels. Diana put her hands to her
mouth and called:
"Ad--el--ine!"
The heads turned for a moment to look, then scuttled on with the utmost
rapidity. Diana, following, caught a glimpse of two figures whisking
past the boat-house to the landing-place. She stopped dead.
"So it's Hilary Adeline's taking with her. And they're going in the
boat. Well, of all mean things this is the limit! Adeline hadn't time to
take people on the lake, and wanted to plant seedlings. That's why she
was so anxious to send me off to help Miss Carr. If she won't listen
when I call to her _I_'m not going to bother to give her Miss Hampson's
message. I don't suppose Miss Todd wants her about anything important.
I'm fed up!"
A very disconsolate and indignant Diana once more walked up the garden;
the green-eyed monster was sitting on her back and digging in his
disagreeable talons pretty deeply; he was anything but a bright
companion. She wandered aimlessly round the orchard, and finally came
across Miss Carr and Loveday carrying out food to the chickens. They
were chatting as she met them, and the words drifted to her between the
apple-trees.
"So Mr. Appleton said it really wasn't safe at all, and Miss Todd had
better let nobody take her out till he could come up. He'd try to come
this evening, but he wasn't sure if he'd manage it because--why, Diana,
what's the matter?"
"Is it the boat you're talking about?" demanded a breathless, excited
little figure.
"Yes--but why? Diana! What is it? Di--an--a!"
Loveday spoke to the winds, for already her room-mate was half-way down
the orchard. Diana's feet were trying to keep pace with her whirling
brain. The boat was unsafe! That, no doubt, was the message that Miss
Todd had intended for Adeline. If she had not already started it might
be possible to stop her, or at any rate to call her back. She raced
along the shrubbery and down the bank to the landing-place. But Adeline
and Hilary had wasted no time, and were already quite a considerable
way out on the lake. Diana called and shouted to them. They turned their
heads to look, evidently laughed, and took no notice. It was plain that
they thought Diana wished them to return and take her for a row, and
that they had no intention of any such philanthropic course of action.
On the landing-place Diana raged. If the _Peveril_ were really unsafe
every stroke of the oar was taking Adeline and Hilary into greater
danger. How could she possibly make them understand? The more she
called, the more they would row away.
Then a very desperate idea occurred to her, so desperate that only a
harum-scarum like Diana would have thought of it. She would swim out
towards them, and when they saw her in the water they would probably
turn and come back. She pulled off her skirt and her shoes. Now Diana
was not a very expert swimmer; it was indeed two years since she had had
any practice, and that had been in the sea, which is easier than fresh
water. She never thought of these particulars, however, but, putting her
hands together, dived off the landing-place just as Loveday turned the
corner of the boat-house. It was very cold, indeed, in the water, far
colder than she had expected; it made her gasp for breath, and sent a
numbness into her limbs. She struggled on, however, with brave strokes.
"Di--ana!" screamed Loveday's agitated voice behind her.
The girls in the boat were not even looking. How fearfully cold it was!
It was difficult to hold up her head properly and see where she was
going. She had thought swimming was so easy. A few more strokes and
something seemed to be twining round her. She had dashed into some
waterweeds, and their clammy stems clutched her like dead fingers. She
made a desperate effort to free herself; down went her head, and next
moment she was gulping, struggling, and shrieking for help. There was a
splash behind from the landing-place as Loveday plunged to the rescue;
the occupants of the boat also, at last looking and realizing the
seriousness of the situation, began to row in her direction as fast as
they could pull. They were some distance off, however, and Loveday won
the race. She caught Diana just as she was sinking, and held her up
until the boat arrived.
A very draggled, agitated pair of girls made their way up the shrubbery
walk to the house, leaving a wet trail to mark their path. Adeline tied
up the _Peveril_ before she followed them.
"I'm sure nobody can blame _us_," she remarked to Hilary.
Loveday and Diana, warmed, dried, and clad in fresh garments, scolded by
Miss Todd, and cosseted by Miss Carr, the heroines of a real adventure,
and for the moment the centre of interest in the school, discussed the
event in private.
"I've explained, but Adeline doesn't see it," said Diana. "She says the
boat wasn't as bad as all that, and they were in no real danger, and
that I did a very silly, idiotic, foolhardy thing. She doesn't
understand I was trying to save her life. But I _was_!"
"I know," nodded Loveday. "I don't think somehow, though, that Adeline's
the kind of girl whom you could ever make understand. Why do you lavish
all this love on her, Di? She's not worth it."
Diana was plaiting her skirt into little gathers. She looked at her
fingers and not at Loveday.
"I _did_ like her so! But it's all ended now--drowned in the water, I
think. She doesn't care twopence about me. Well! If _she_ doesn't, no
more do _I_! She may go to Hong-Kong as far as I'm concerned."
Loveday glanced anxiously at her friend. There was a suspicious tremble
in the usually cheerful voice. Were those drops shining on the long
eyelashes?
"It takes a good deal of riddling before we sort out the wheat and the
chaff in our friendships," ventured Loveday.
"_You're_ 'honest grain', at any rate!" said Diana, winking rapidly, as
she rose and ended the conversation.