CHESTNUTS
The week-end went by much more happily than Gerry would have believed
possible a few days ago. The members of the Lower Fifth were rather
shy of her as a whole, it is true. But although, with the exception of
Jack and Nita, they made no positive advances towards the new girl, yet
they did not behave nearly as coldly as they had been doing of late.
And Jack was friendly enough to make up for all the others. She was
rather fixed up with partners for the various week-end events; but she
chattered away gaily to Gerry at meal-times, invited her to stand with
Nita and herself to watch the hockey match on the Saturday afternoon,
and generally did her utmost to make Gerry feel happy and at home.
On Sunday evening after tea, Gerry, who had put in an attendance at
both the morning services and had so secured exemption from the evening
service at St. Peter's, went to the library to find a book. Having
procured one which promised to be interesting, she returned to the
Lower Fifth sitting-room, and finding it empty, curled herself up on
the hearthrug in front of the fire, and prepared for a happy if
somewhat solitary evening. She had not been established there very
long, however, before the door opened and Jack came into the room.
She dropped down beside Gerry on the hearth-rug and peered over her
shoulder at the book.
"What are you reading?" she asked. "Anything interesting? Do you want
to read very badly, or will you mind if we put out the light? Nita's
coming in directly, and we'd arranged to have a cosy confab in the
firelight. All the others are going to the organ recital, and we
thought it would be a splendid opportunity to have a nice quiet evening
all to ourselves."
"Is there an organ recital?" said Gerry. "I didn't know."
"Yes, there's been a notice up about it on the notice-board all the
week. You are a blind old bat, Gerry, always up in the clouds. I
don't believe you know half that goes on in the school. Miss Martyn's
giving one in the Chapel this evening, but you needn't go to it unless
you want--it's optional. Stay here and have a jolly evening with Nita
and me. Here comes Nita."
The door opened at that moment, and Nita came quickly into the room.
"Hullo, here you are! I've got them all right----" she began, then
stopped short at the sight of Gerry. In the dim light--Jack had
switched off the overhead lamps, and the room was only lighted now by
the glow from the fire--she had not seen her quite at first. "Oh, it's
you, is it?" she said, somewhat abruptly. "I thought you'd gone to the
organ recital."
Jack grinned at Nita's look of dismay and turned to Gerry with a
chuckle of amusement.
"It's all right--don't take any notice of Nita. She doesn't really
mean to be rude--it's just her way. Don't stand there looking like a
stuffed owl, Nita. Gerry won't split. Will you, Gerry?"
"Split? Split on what?" asked Gerry, looking from one girl to the
other in bewilderment.
"Why, we're going to have a chestnut-roasting, Nita and I. We were out
for a walk with the three Fourth Forms this afternoon. Miss Burton
took it. And we went by the chestnut plantation on Sir John Boyne's
place--you know it, don't you, up by Southdown Woods? Nita and I gave
the rest of them the slip and lay low in the plantation until they'd
all gone past. Then we just set to and stuffed our pockets with
chestnuts. There were loads of them, all eating ones, you know, and
when the walk came back we tagged ourselves on to it without anyone
getting wise. And we've planned to roast them in here while the others
are at the organ recital. We didn't mean to let anyone else know, but
we don't mind you--do we, Nita?"
"Oh no, of course not," said Nita hastily. But there was not quite so
much conviction in her voice as Gerry would have liked to have heard in
it. However, Jack's evident anxiety for her company made up for Nita's
lack of cordiality; and soon the three of them were amicably engaged in
scorching their faces and burning their fingers over the chestnuts.
It was very cosy in the sitting-room, curled up on the hearthrug in
front of the glowing fire, which Jack had taken care to build up well
before tea and which was now a flaming mass of red-hot coals. Jack was
in one of her merriest, maddest moods, and her mirth infected the other
two as well. Nita forgot her slight annoyance at finding that Gerry
was to be a participator in the chestnut-roasting, and Gerry herself
was too happy for words as she sat beside Jack in the flickering
firelight. For Jack was leaning against her in the friendliest way,
and it seemed to the new girl that all her school troubles were over at
last, and that nothing but friendship and happiness lay before her.
But suddenly, while the merriment was at its height, the sitting-room
door opened abruptly, and a stream of light from the passage outside
poured into the room. Nita sprang to her feet, and Jack and Gerry
looked round in startled surprise. A thin, angular figure stood in the
doorway, and a rasping voice exclaimed in disgusted tones:
"What is this smell of burning?"
"Jemima! It's Miss Burton!" muttered Jack, as she scrambled to her
feet. "Quick, Gerry, stuff the chestnuts into your pocket!
Anywhere--while I brush the shucks under the hearthrug. She can't have
seen anything yet."
Gerry hastily gathered up what chestnuts she could lay her hands upon
and stuffed them into the one pocket her dress possessed. Nita did the
same, while Jack disposed of the empty shells as best she could. By
the time Miss Burton had succeeded in finding the switch and turning on
the light, nothing remained except the tell-tale smell of burning to
betray the fact that any unlawful feasting had recently taken place.
Jack sniffed innocently into the air.
"Burning, Miss Burton? Is there a smell of burning?"
Miss Burton advanced into the room, looking suspiciously about her.
Her days of chestnut-roasting were so long over, that she was unable to
detect exactly the nature of the strange odour that assailed her
nostrils, although she was well aware that it was something that should
not have been in evidence in any well-conducted school. However, there
appeared to be nothing that she could pounce upon, and she was obliged
to confine her energies to strictures upon the unconventional attitudes
in which she had surprised the three girls.
"Really, the way you girls behave in this school is atrocious! Fancy
three big girls of fifteen sitting on the floor in that ugly attitude.
And why are you sitting in the dark? Why are you here at all for that
matter? Is there not an organ recital you ought to be attending?"
"The organ recital was optional, Miss Burton," said Jack respectfully.
Respect seemed to her the easiest way of getting rid of this very
unwelcome visitor. "And Nita and Gerry and I thought we would rather
stay in here in the warm, and have a cosy talk over the fire."
"But why turn the lights out?" demanded the mistress, suspicious of the
extreme innocence of the three faces before her. The innocence of two
of them, rather! Gerry was not good at disguising her expression at
any time, and at the moment she was looking distinctly uncomfortable.
"We like sitting in the firelight best," said Jack glibly. "It makes
it seem so much more cosy and mysterious. Don't you think so yourself,
Miss Burton?" From the keen interest of her tone an uninitiated
observer might have thought that it was really a matter of importance
to her to discover the mistress's private opinion on this engrossing
topic.
Miss Burton, however, was not to be thus beguiled.
"No, I cannot say that I do," she said stiffly. She gave another
suspicious look around, but although she was not by any means convinced
of the innocency of her three pupils' proceedings, there seemed to be
nothing that she could lay hold of, and she turned reluctantly towards
the door.
And then at that inauspicious moment, Gerry's pocket--stuffed far
beyond its ordinary capacity with chestnuts--must suddenly give way!
There was a sound of ripping material, and the next moment a cascade of
chestnuts poured out upon the floor. In a moment Miss Burton was upon
them, and the mystery of the strange smell became apparent to her.
"I _thought_ so!" she exclaimed triumphantly. "I knew you were up to
some sort of mischief! Attendance at Chapel may be optional, as you
say, but I am quite sure that you are not allowed to stay away in order
to roast chestnuts!"
"There's no rule that says we mayn't, that I know of," said Jack,
rather impudently.
The mistress glared at her.
"Don't be impertinent!" she said. "If you are allowed to do it, why
did you attempt to conceal the chestnuts? Come with me to Miss
Oakley--we will see what she has to say about it."
Any other mistress would have dealt with the affair herself, and not
have taken it up to the Head in such a drastic manner. Jack gave a
gasp of dismay. But she realised the futility of arguing with Miss
Burton, and with a shrug of her shoulders she walked towards the door.
Nita and Gerry followed in her wake, and the three culprits were
marched along the corridors to the headmistress's study, Miss Burton
keeping a strict eye upon them and bearing the chestnuts in her hands.
Miss Oakley was enjoying a quiet hour in her study, but she aroused
herself at once to attend to the mistress's complaint. Miss Burton was
a newcomer, and although the headmistress had realised already that her
methods were not altogether the methods in vogue at Wakehurst Priory,
yet courtesy as well as school discipline demanded that her complaints
should be attended to. So she listened gravely enough to the recital
of the reprehensible conduct of the three Lower Fifth girls, and their
attempted concealment of the chestnuts.
"Geraldine Wilmott had hidden them in her pocket," said the mistress,
having made out the worst possible case against the three culprits.
"That shows that she had a guilty conscience, I am inclined to think
that this girl is the worst of the three. She was very rude and
insolent to me the other morning in class."
Miss Oakley glanced at Gerry's crimson face in surprise. The new girl
always seemed so shy and quiet that rudeness and insolence were about
the last things she expected from her. However, whatever the facts
might be of the incident in class, they had nothing to do with the
matter in hand, and she turned again to her contemplation of the
chestnuts.
"May I ask where you obtained these chestnuts?" she inquired mildly.
Jack answered for the other two.
"Nita and I got them while we were out walking this afternoon, if you
please, Miss Oakley."
"I don't think it does please me," said the mistress quietly. "The
only chestnut trees that I know of near here belong to Sir John Boyne,
and I know he is very particular about trespassers on his estate. Did
you go into his plantation to get them?"
"Yes," said Jack.
"Then you acted very wrongly, Jack," the headmistress said gravely. "I
do not suppose that you quite realised it, but what you were doing was
nothing less than stealing. If you had been poor children and had been
caught by the keepers, you would probably have been severely punished.
As it is, I cannot allow you to escape all punishment for your
wrong-doing. You will all three write out, 'I must not steal,' three
hundred times, and hand your lines to Miss Burton not later than
to-morrow evening."
"But, please, Miss Oakley, Gerry didn't steal them. She wasn't with us
out walking, and she didn't know anything about it until after tea,"
said Jack.
"But she helped you to eat them, I suppose?" said the headmistress.
"Y--yes, but she didn't have anything to do with thinking of the plan.
She just happened to be in the sitting-room, so we asked her to join
in," said Jack.
"Well, perhaps her crime wasn't quite so great as yours," said Miss
Oakley, with a little smile. "All the same, since she took part in the
feasting, I think she also must pay for her pleasure. Geraldine,
suppose you write out, 'Chestnuts are bad for the digestion,' one
hundred times--I think that will be enough for your share. Now you may
go."
The three made their way back to the sitting-room, rather crestfallen
at the ignominious ending to their cosy evening, and full of wrath
against Miss Burton for what Jack termed her "beastly sneakiness." At
least, Jack and Nita were full of wrath. Gerry was too unhappy at
having got her friends into trouble to be angry with anybody.
"I'm most awfully sorry, Jack," she said miserably. "If only my
beastly pocket hadn't burst it would have been all right! I always
seem to be getting you into trouble! I am such a stupid ass over
things!"
"Oh, that's all right," said Jack, trying to be magnanimous, although
she could not help agreeing with Gerry about her stupidity. Gerry
certainly seemed an expert at doing the wrong thing at the wrong time.
"You couldn't help your pocket bursting, of course."
But in spite of her words, Gerry could not help feeling that both her
companions blamed her a little for the unfortunate accident--Nita more
so, perhaps, than Jack. It would have been some consolation if she had
been allowed to share fully in the punishment, but Jack, with that
scrupulous honesty of hers, had effectually prevented her from doing
that. Gerry would gladly have done the lines for all three of them,
but that, of course, was impossible, and she could only bear her own
share of the burden laid upon them.
The organ recital was over by the time the three reached the Lower
Fifth sitting-room again, and the members of the form had returned to
their usual Sunday evening occupations. Grumbling greatly at their
affliction, Jack and Nita got out their pens and paper and made a
beginning at their punishment task, for they knew that it would be all
that they could do to get the lines finished by the required time. The
rest of the Lower Fifth listened sympathetically to their tale of woe,
and many were the censures upon the new mistress for her
unsportsman-like manner of dealing with the affair.
"Of course she ought to have lectured you herself, and let you off with
a conduct mark at most," exclaimed Dorothy Pemberton. "Fancy taking
you up to the Head for a little thing like that!"
"But what a silly ass you must have been, Gerry Wilmott, to go letting
them drop just when she was going away," said Phyllis Tressider.
Phyllis still bore a grudge against Gerry because of the rowing the
head girl had given her on Gerry's behalf, and she had acquiesced very
unwillingly into taking the new girl into favour.
"I couldn't help it, my pocket burst," said Gerry. And Jack, although
she herself blamed Gerry a little for the accident, hastened to take
her part.
"Shut up, Phyllis, and leave Gerry alone. It wasn't her fault. It was
that beast of a Miss Burton! Never mind, though, we'll be revenged
upon her to-morrow. Won't she be wild when she finds that we've none
of us done a single stroke of the work she set!"
"She'll report us to Miss Oakley, right away--you see if she doesn't,"
prophesied Hilda Burns gloomily. "If she'll report a little thing like
roasting chestnuts, she's sure to take a big matter like refusing to do
our work up to the Head, too. We're in for an awful time, in my
opinion. I think we were asses to have done it. It would have been
better to have got even with her in some safer way."
"Well, it's too late now to begin repenting about it," said Jack
cheerfully. "And, anyway, we're all in it together, whatever happens."
And then she and Nita and Gerry settled down to their punishment lines.