By the way, did, you bring back those you've finished, because they must
go to the library."
"No, I couldn't; they would have made rather a large parcel, and I had
no way of hiding it, especially as Elsa and Paddy came half-way with
me."
"Well, take good care no one spies them," cautioned Monica. "I don't
want to have the credit of leading you astray."
And Olive promised to be careful, as indeed she always was. As a matter
of fact, not the least of the sins to be laid at the door of her
novel-reading on the sly was the deceit she had to practise in order to
hide the books.
Three weeks had already sped since the half-term holiday, and still
Monica could scarcely bear to stand on her ankle, so severe had been the
sprain. There was little likelihood of her being back at school for
quite another week or ten days; indeed, Mrs. Beauchamp had hinted that
it seemed hardly worth while for her to go again that term, at all. But
the kindly old doctor, seeing that Monica's heart was set upon it, had
said: "Oh, yes, it will do her good to rub up against the other girls
for a week or two. The holidays will be quite long enough, seven weeks
or more." And so it was settled that, as soon as the ankle was really
to be depended upon, Monica should go back to finish out the term.
She was thinking of it a few days later, as she kept her grandmother
company in the drawing-room after tea. The old lady had seemed much
less stiff lately, and Monica had begun to think that she might grow
fond of her in time. She was so kind, too, about Jack, who was allowed
to be wherever his mistress was, even in the drawing-room; certainly he
was a particularly good dog. He was lying on the hearth-rug now, fast
asleep, while Mrs. Beauchamp was knitting some fleecy wool into a wrap;
and Monica, who was no longer compelled to keep her leg up, so long as
she did not walk on it much, was lazily, and by no means elegantly,
lounging in the depths of an easy chair.
Suddenly Jack pricked up his ears, and gave a short, sharp little bark,
there was the sound of the front door opening and shutting, and the next
minute "Miss Franklyn" was announced.
Mrs. Beauchamp greeted the visitor cordially. She had met Lois once
before and had been prepossessed by the gentle tones and ladylike
bearing of the doctor's eldest daughter.
Monica jumped up hastily, with a pleased exclamation, but she soon saw
that something was wrong. There was a stern expression about Lois' lips
which was not habitual to her, and she had brought a parcel, which
Monica could see only too well contained books.
She scarcely responded to Monica's, "How do you do, Miss Franklyn?" but
turned to Mrs. Beauchamp and began to explain her errand without delay.
"I am very sorry to have to draw your attention to these books, Mrs.
Beauchamp," she said, laying a three-volume novel and another library
book on an octagonal table beside her. "It seems that for some
weeks--all the time your granddaughter has been laid up, at any
rate--she has been lending Olive books of this description. I do not
know whether Monica has your permission to read them, but it has been
one of my dear mother's strictest rules that none of us should read any
novel, except standard works, until we had left school; then we might do
so if we wished. As it happens, neither my sister Kathleen, nor myself,
has the slightest inclination for literature of _that_ kind," and here
Lois glanced contemptuously at the books, "but Olive seems to have been
thoroughly infatuated with them. We have all noticed a great change in
her lately, but could not account for it, until, by mere accident this
afternoon, three of these books were found by one of the children,
carefully hidden in an old doll's house which is rarely used. Seeing
that it was useless to deny it, Olive has confessed to my mother the
unhappy deceit that she has been practising, and produced the remaining
book from her bedroom. She says she has been most miserable all the
time, but was evidently frightfully fascinated, or she could never have
been so wicked as to deceive our mother, who is very grieved and upset
about it all. However, Olive has at length promised solemnly not to
read any more of this kind of book, and I believe she will keep her
word, unless she is tempted. That is why I have come to ask you to
forbid Monica lending any more to Olive, if she is allowed to read them
herself."
Lois paused, and Mrs. Beauchamp, after a glance at the title-pages of
the books, looked severely at Monica, who had sat perfectly still, with
her eyes fixed on Lois, during the recital of Olive's wrong-doing.
"How came you to get books of this description from the library,
Monica?"
"You never forbade me to, grandmother," murmured the girl, more to gain
time than anything else, for she had resolved to make a clean breast of
it.
"More I did," admitted Mrs. Beauchamp ruefully. "I am afraid I never
realised that you would choose this style of literature; I have thought
of you as a mere child, still. Oh, dear me, what a terrible
responsibility girls are!" And the old lady sighed feebly, and looked
at Lois for assistance.
"Perhaps Monica will ask your advice in future," was all Lois could say,
for she felt she was in a somewhat difficult position. "At any rate,
for my mother's sake, I am sure she will promise not to help Olive to
disobey her again."
The kind tone was too much for Monica, and she said impulsively: "Oh,
Miss Franklyn, I am so awfully sorry! Olive never would have read one
if I hadn't persuaded her to; she knew she ought not. I would give
anything, now, not to have lent them to her. Indeed, last time she was
here I told her so, and said I was half-inclined not to read any more
myself."
[Illustration: "'OH, MISS FRANKLYN, I AM SO AWFULLY SORRY!'"]
"I don't know what Mrs. Beauchamp's opinion may be," said Lois, to whose
face Monica's honest avowal had brought a pleased expression, "but if
you took _my_ advice, Monica, you would make up your mind to be _quite_
inclined to let them severely alone, for the next few years, at all
events."
"I will," Monica replied, without hesitation; the reality in her tones
betokening steadfastness of purpose.
"I am very glad," said Lois, and there was distinct approval in the
expressive glance her grey eyes flashed on Monica, as she rose. "I will
tell Olive of your resolve, and it will help her to be true to her
promise."
Mrs. Beauchamp, looking alternately from one to the other, as the
conversation seemed to be carried on without her help, suddenly realised
that the question was settled, and she had no battle to fight with
Monica. She could not help thinking how differently she would have gone
to work, and how unsuccessful she would, in all probability, have been.
"I am sure, Miss Franklyn, I hope that your mother will accept my
apologies for all this trouble. There seems no end to the anxiety my
granddaughter causes every one!"
"It _was_ an anxiety to her, I must confess," said Lois, "but now that
Olive has told her everything, she feels easier about it. She has such
an abhorrence of anything approaching deceit."
"Of course," murmured Mrs. Beauchamp.
"Can Olive come to tea to-morrow, grandmother?" Monica's face was
pleading.
"I really don't know, I'm sure. I hardly think you deserve----" began
the old lady hesitatingly.
"May I interrupt?" said Lois, quickly. "I was to tell you that my
mother felt that the most suitable punishment she could inflict upon
Olive was to forbid her to see Monica again until she returns to school,
whenever that may be."
And although Monica said, "Oh!" and looked disconsolate, she could not
but admit that the punishment was a just one.
*CHAPTER XIII.*
*"A NICE SCRAPE SHE'LL GET INTO!"*
"Monica Beauchamp is back at school."
The news soon spread, until all the Fourth Form girls were aware of the
fact, and, for the most part, it was received with acclamation, for the
bright, high-spirited girl had been missed during the month she had been
away.
There was only one little clique who regretted her return, and that was
Lily Howell and her votaries who, knowing she had a rooted objection to
the new-comer, took their cue from their leader, and looked upon Monica
as an interloper; but it must be confessed that, personally, they had no
fault to find with her, except that the absolute indifference with which
she treated them annoyed them terribly.
During recreation, when Olive would fain have had Monica all to herself,
several of the girls, in other forms besides her own, gathered round
her, and made quite a fuss of her. This of course did not escape Lily's
notice, who, remembering one occasion when she had returned to school
after a slight illness, and no one had expressed any pleasure at seeing
her back again, was frightfully jealous of Monica.
But the chief reason why she was sorry to see Monica at school once more
was because she knew that, with Monica in the arithmetic class, her own
chance of coming out first in the examination was decidedly lessened.
There were only two studies which Monica had any real interest in, and
those were German and arithmetic; the former because she had a very fair
idea of the language, and the latter she thoroughly enjoyed and
consequently took pains with.
Up to the half-term, Monica had kept her place steadily, much to Lily's
mortification, who had always been praised for her neatly worked
examples, until Monica appeared upon the scene, with her less tidy, but
far more quick and correct work. But the month she had been away
provided Lily with a grand opportunity of getting ahead; and she had
worked with a zeal, worthy of a better cause, to endeavour to supplant
Monica.
Great was her chagrin, then, to find upon a new rule being explained by
Miss Churchill, that Monica was well acquainted with it, and had worked
out a given example, and got the right answer, before the problem had
thoroughly penetrated Lily's brain. She did not know that Monica had
spent many hours amusing herself with her _Hamblin Smith_ while she had
been laid up at home, and so had got far ahead of what the Fourth Form
was still doing.
"Very good indeed, Monica! You have worked that out well," commended
Miss Churchill, as she looked at the sum; and Monica flushed with
pleasure at words of praise such as she seldom had received before.
During that last fortnight of the summer term, she tried her very
hardest to have a neat exercise book, as well as correct answers, but it
was uphill work for Monica, whose home-lessons were invariably blotted
and smudged, and the lines anything but straightly ruled. However, Miss
Churchill, quick to notice and commend real effort, encouraged her
several times with a word of praise. None of these escaped Lily
Howell's ears, and she felt more convinced than ever that Monica was
deliberately aiming at supplanting her in the forthcoming examination.
No such idea had entered Monica's head; she was merely actuated by a
desire to please Miss Churchill, and arithmetic was the only subject (of
those taught by her) for which Monica had any liking. In English
subjects and science she was a terrible pupil, and she was continually
getting into trouble on account of carelessly written, or insufficiently
learnt, work; but as it was just at the end of the term, and she had
been away so long, she was let off more easily than she really deserved.
At length the examination week dawned, and those girls who were keen
about their place in the class list spent all their spare time in
cramming. Amethyst Drury, whose talents lay in the direction of English
history and geography, was continually on the look out for some one to
hear her say her "dates," and ask her questions about Africa, the
country they were to be examined upon that term. Elsa, who, among
others, was what their teacher called an "all-round girl," knew it was
hopeless to try to look up everything, so she depended upon the
knowledge she had gained during the term; by far the wisest plan.
Olive, who seldom did well in any subject, on account of carelessness
and inattention, expected to "get along somehow"; the only distinction
she ever obtained was for drawing, and as she certainly had a real gift
in that direction she was universally acknowledged to be the artist of
the class.
It would be impossible, as well as unnecessary, to describe in detail
the varied experiences of the examination week. Suffice it to say that
the questions, according to the girls' opinions, were "harder than
ever," and the candidates were none too hopeful when they gave up their
papers, after a couple of hours' work upon each subject; somehow just
the questions they had made sure Miss So-and-So would set had not been
included, and the very things they had fondly hoped would not be
required had been given a prominent place! But that is an experience
common to all time, and by no means peculiar to the girls of that Fourth
Form.
The arithmetic examination was almost the last on the list. And most of
the girls who had expended their energies on previous subjects looked
with dismay at the long list of difficult examples. Olive glanced at the
others to see what they thought of it, but Elsa was beginning to write
steadily, and Monica, catching her eye, gave her a reassuring smile; it
seemed rather a nice paper to her. Amethyst, who was no mathematician,
was biting the end of her penholder and looking frantic.
Olive was just going to dip her pen in the ink and begin to inscribe her
name elaborately on the top sheet of the ruled paper before her, when
something made her look in Lily Howell's direction just in time to see
an ugly expression of malignant jealousy sweep over her face, as she
observed Monica steadily applying herself to answer the questions which
appalled her rival.
"There'll be awful ructions in that quarter, if Monica comes out top, as
I do hope she will," soliloquised Olive, and then a reproving glance
from Miss Churchill warned her to get on with her work.
For an hour no sound was heard but the scratching of pens and the
rustling of paper, except now and then when a long-drawn sigh escaped
the lips of one or other of the girls, as she realised her inability to
solve a difficult problem.
By that time Olive had come to the end of her resources and could do no
more, so she fastened her papers together and then began to look about
at the other girls with a view to seeing how they were getting on. Her
desk was in one corner of the room, and Monica (who long since had had
to be moved to a distance from Olive, on account of whispering) was in
the centre of the second row quite near the front. Lily Howell and her
ally, Maggie Masters, were next to each other in the opposite corner
from Olive's.
A glance at Monica showed her to be still hard at work over her paper,
so Olive turned her attention elsewhere. As she looked across at Lily,
their eyes met, and Olive turned away quickly, for she did not want to
get into trouble with Miss Churchill, who might think they were
communicating with each other in some way; but a peculiar expression she
had seen in Lily's light grey orbs impelled her to look again a few
seconds later, and then what she saw horrified her, and her eyes seemed
rooted to the spot! For Lily was positively making copious use of the
contents of some little note-book or paper, (Olive could not detect
which) that was cleverly hidden, on the desk, by Maggie's pencil-box,
from Miss Churchill's view.
"The horrid, mean, hateful sneak!" Olive, in her anger and contempt
could not find enough opprobrious epithets. "She's got all her tables,
and a whole lot of hints copied out, I do believe, and of course, now
she'll go and beat Monica; but I'll be even with her! A nice scrape
she'll get into!" And Olive chuckled to herself at the thought of what
was in store. "Perhaps she'll be expelled, and a good job, too. I'd
better nudge Gipsy, and make her see, in case the sneak goes and
declares she didn't cheat."
Olive glanced over into the other corner again, but--nothing wrong was
to be seen! All trace of the notes had vanished, and Lily was neatly
ruling her manuscript paper as if no such thing as cheating had ever
entered her head!
"Oh, you wretch!" And Olive felt as if she could have done anything to
her, so exasperated was she to think that she had been "done"; for not
once again, during the time that remained for the arithmetic paper, did
she catch a glimpse of the missing paper. At length the gong sounded,
and whether completed or not, the girls had to fasten their sheets
together and hand the papers in to Miss Churchill.
They were glad enough to stretch their cramped limbs, and let their
tongues loose during the recreation that followed, in discussing the
questions and comparing their answers. Olive, of course, told Monica
what she had seen Lily doing, and how vexed she was to think she could
not prove it to Miss Churchill, if she were to tell her.
"Oh, let it be," said Monica, who loathed telling tales; "she'll be so
mad if you tell, and she'll be sure to declare it wasn't a crib."
"I shall tell if she comes out top."
And Monica could not persuade her otherwise.
"We shall know to-morrow," said Olive as they entered the school door.
But in less than five minutes after the words had escaped her lips, part
of the truth had come to light, and it happened in this way.
Lily (who was under the impression that her neat little scheme for
aiding her memory had been quite unobserved by any one except Maggie,
who had benefited by it, too), already, in imagination, saw her own name
at the head of the list. But she thought it would be just as well to
make assurance doubly sure, by securing Monica's downfall, if it were
possible, in case she should be perilously near. So, as she passed up
to the desk with her paper, taking care to be the last girl who filed
out, she very quietly dropped her little paper of tables, etc., on the
floor of Monica's desk, in such a manner as to make it appear as if it
had slipped off Monica's lap, when she rose to go out.
"Now we shall be quits!" was her amiable thought, as she went with the
rest into the playground. She bound Maggie, with promises of many good
things, to absolute secrecy, and returned to the classroom to await
developments.
The girls had no sooner taken their places than they became aware that
something was wrong! The head-mistress Miss Buckingham came in with a
very stern expression on her face, and Miss Churchill seemed on the
verge of tears.
"I am grieved to tell you that there is a cheat--yes, a _cheat_," and
Miss Buckingham repeated the words with scornful emphasis, "amongst you
girls of the Fourth Form. Miss Churchill found this paper, containing
arithmetical tables and various other information, under one of the
desks when you had left the classroom. I desire that girl, who has
sought to secure a good place in the examination list by such despicable
means to stand up in her place."
A furtive glance from Lily, who was as white as a ghost, revealed the
fact that the head-mistress was looking straight at Monica, and the real
culprit breathed freely, and the colour came back to her cheeks. She
did not know that Olive's gaze was riveted on her, or she would not have
felt so easy in her mind as she did!
"Come, stand up," repeated Miss Buckingham, and Monica began to feel
uncomfortable. Why did the head-mistress look so persistently at _her_,
when it was Lily Howell who was the culprit.
"Well, I am sorry she will not confess it herself," said the calm, cold
voice of the head of the school; "but Monica Beauchamp is the cheat!"
"I'm _not_!"
"She _isn't_!"
The two disclaimers burst simultaneously from the lips of Monica and
Olive, who were aghast at this fresh piece of trickery, and could not
imagine how it had come to pass.
"Olive Franklyn, sit down. Now, Monica, what have you to say in defence
of yourself?"
"I know nothing whatever about it; I would scorn such a mean trick.
Miss Churchill knows I would," and Monica looked reproachfully at the
little mistress, who had been a sad and silent spectator, so far.
"I cannot believe you would cheat, Monica, but----" and she paused
significantly.
Meanwhile, Olive had been frantically trying to make Monica see her, but
failing to do so, she asked permission to speak, and told what she had
seen on Lily's desk.
But both Lily and Maggie stoutly denied having had anything of the kind
in their possession, and, as no other girl seemed to have observed it,
Miss Churchill was reluctantly compelled to think that Olive, in
championing her friend's cause, was drawing on her imagination. The
figures and words on the paper were all in printing hand, so that no
one's writing was recognisable.
No more light being thrown on the matter by further questioning, Miss
Buckingham left the classroom, saying: "I shall not decide upon the
punishment to be given until to-morrow morning, by which time I
sincerely hope that the girl, whose conscience must be accusing her,
will be ready to make confession."
In her own mind, Miss Buckingham was of opinion that Monica Beauchamp
was entirely innocent; and she could not but feel that suspicion
strongly rested upon Lily Howell, although the latter had feigned entire
ignorance of the matter; for her changing colour belied her words.
The truth was arrived at in a singular and indisputable way after all.
When correcting the arithmetic papers, late that afternoon, in the
teacher's room, Miss Churchill found some most astonishing blunders in
Lily Howell's calculations. For some time she was mystified, and then
it dawned upon her what had happened.
"Why, the girl's cubic measure is all wrong. No less than three times
she has put down 1278 cubic inches instead of 1728, when reckoning a
cubic foot. It is curious how she came to transpose the numbers? I
wonder----"
She hastened across the hall to Miss Buckingham's room, and upon looking
at the "crib," she saw, with a curious sense of satisfaction (for she
felt sure Monica was innocent) that underneath "Solid or Cubic Measure"
the first line, was
1278 cub. in. = 1 cub. ft.
"Found out!" she murmured, and recrossing the hall, she told two of the
other teachers, who were also correcting papers, what she had
discovered, and bade them look at the paper, and compare it with Lily's
sums.
They both agreed it was a very clear case, and when, upon examination,
Monica was found to have calculated her cubic inches rightly each time,
no further proof of Lily Howell's guilt was needed.
Little did that individual dream of what awaited her on the morrow, when
she retired to rest that night, rather well satisfied with the success
which she thought she had achieved.
The girls waited breathlessly next morning for Miss Buckingham's
verdict; many had been the conversations about it, and very varied were
the punishments suggested. Every one was sure that, somehow, Lily would
be proved guilty, most of them thinking that she would voluntarily
confess.
Monica, knowing she was quite innocent, felt no real fear, although she
was not at all sure that she would escape punishment, for she was under
the impression that Miss Buckingham had believed her to be the culprit.
Every one was amazed when they heard the conclusion of the matter. In a
few terse words the head-mistress explained how the truth had been
brought to light; and no one felt that undue punishment was being meted
out to Lily Howell when she was informed that after that term she would
not be allowed to return to the Osmington High School.
"Not only for the using of unfair and forbidden means in order to secure
a good place in the examination list, but far more on account of the
wicked intention to bring discredit and punishment upon an innocent
fellow-schoolgirl."
Miss Buckingham's words were stern and uncompromising, and poor unhappy
Lily Howell cowered beneath her glance.
It was an unfortunate ending to the term, and the girls who came off
victorious in the examinations did not feel the same satisfaction as
they would have done if nothing of the kind had occurred. Monica, of
course, was first in arithmetic; Amethyst secured a similar place in
English history, and although she was beaten in geography, she did not
mind so very much, as the honours fell to her friend Elsa.