Out of Bounds
Aldred had never been to school before, but she was so happy at the
Grange that she was sure no other place in the United Kingdom could be
half so nice. Miss Drummond was certainly a delightful head mistress,
and the model cottage was only one of her many original ideas. Following
her theory of training her pupils in useful home arts, she allowed them
to do many little things in the house that do not always come within the
province of schoolgirls. Each classroom was provided with vases, and it
was the monitresses' duty to keep these replenished, using leaves and
berries when the garden supply failed. The prefects always arranged the
flowers for the dinner-table, and the top girl in each Form had the
privilege of attending to those in the drawing-room and in Miss
Drummond's study. Those girls who gained ninety per cent in the monthly
examinations were invited to the Principal's Wednesday afternoon "At
Home", and helped to pass cups and entertain visitors, the one with the
highest score being asked to pour out tea.
Miss Drummond encouraged the girls to talk to her, and tried to make the
whole atmosphere as homelike as possible, allowing a tolerable amount of
liberty, so long as it did not degenerate into licence. She would
discuss topics of the day, books, music, art, or any other subject with
her pupils, trying to make them talk easily and naturally, and take an
intelligent interest in what was going on in the world.
"Conversation is like a game of ball," she would sometimes say; "it must
be thrown backwards and forwards from both sides. There is nothing so
aggravating as to be obliged to talk to a person who will persist in
only answering with a negative or an affirmative. I have racked my
brains sometimes to think of fresh topics, when all my leading remarks
have been received with a 'Yes' or a 'No'. That is what I call dropping
the ball. When you see people are making an effort to entertain you, it
is only fair to play your part as well. I know you plead shyness, but
shyness can be conquered if we try to forget ourselves, and think only
how we can give pleasure to others. It is really a form of
self-consciousness, and ought to be fought against as well as any other
fault."
Games were not compulsory at The Grange, though Miss Drummond liked all
to take part in the weekly matches. But she considered it was
inadvisable to train girls to care for nothing but cricket and hockey,
and wished them to take up a number of small interests, such as they
could carry on afterwards at home. During recreation time she allowed
specially chosen recruits to help her in superintending the garden and
greenhouse, the poultry yard, and the bee-hives that were her particular
hobby. These country occupations proved very popular, and to be one of
Miss Drummond's "outdoor helpers" was an honour much sought after and
keenly appreciated.
There was a large shed in the yard, where a joiner's bench had been
fitted up, and on wet days this was devoted to carpentry or
chip-carving, some of the best efforts being reserved for a small annual
bazaar, generally held in aid of the Missionary Societies.
Sewing and embroidery were much encouraged. Miss Gray, the art mistress,
taught the girls to design their own patterns, and had obtained some
pretty results in appliqué and Oriental work. She was an enthusiast in
handicrafts, and allowed many pleasant variations from the usual drawing
course, thinking clay modelling, gesso, stencilling, wood-staining, and
pyrography as important parts of an art training as line or brush work.
The weekly afternoon spent in the studio was a revelation to Aldred,
whose really artistic nature revelled in all these hitherto unknown
delights. She took to them like a duck to water, and was absolutely
happy moulding clay, or stamping backgrounds with the poker-work
apparatus. She would have spent her whole leisure in the studio if that
had been allowed, and would often beg a piece of clay, with which to
practise modelling by herself.
Music, also, was not neglected at Birkwood. There were lessons in theory
and harmony, as well as in piano playing and class singing. Sometimes
the girls were taken to afternoon concerts, but these dissipations were
generally reserved for winter, as there were so many other things in
summer to fill up the days.
One Wednesday half-holiday, when she had been at The Grange for about a
month, Aldred was sitting on the steps of the sundial, in company with
Dora Maxwell, Myfanwy James, and Phoebe Stanhope The sundial was a
place of general rendezvous in the garden. Here, as a rule, the tennis
sets were arranged, sides chosen for croquet or basket ball, leaders
elected, and disputes settled. It was as popular a spot as the market
cross in a country town, and during play-hours was the universal centre
for the whole school. The four girls had brought out books, and were
enjoying reading, with intervals of chatting. Mabel was having a music
lesson, so for once Aldred was apart from her almost inseparable
companion.
"It will be so jolly when we begin hockey on half-holidays!" said Dora.
"It's really been too hot for it so far; I quite agree with Miss
Drummond in that."
"I'm always glad when the cold weather sets in, and we can settle down
to all our ordinary winter arrangements," said Myfanwy. "I like the long
evenings, when it's dark by tea-time, and we can sit round the fire and
talk; it's really far more fun than the summer term."
"I love the summer best," said Aldred. "I like the flowers, and the
leaves on the trees, and the birds singing. Winter seems lonely without
them. I think it's so melancholy to have days and days without any
sunshine!"
"I don't mind the evenings being dark, but I hate getting up before it's
light," said Phoebe. "It's miserable to have to turn out of bed at
seven o'clock on chilly November and December mornings. I'm never like
the good boy in the story-books who gets up readily; it's always a
wrench for me."
"We've hard enough work to rouse you, certainly," admitted Dora. "If it
weren't for us, you'd be sweetly slumbering when the breakfast bell
rings. I can't imagine how you'd manage if you had a room to yourself,
instead of being in No. 5. Who wakes first, Aldred, you or Mabel?"
"Both together, generally," replied Aldred. "I don't see how anybody
could sleep through such a fearful clatter as the bell makes. It gives
me a horrible start every morning. It's worse than an alarm clock?"
"Oh, you'll get used to it in time!" declared Phoebe. "And then
perhaps you won't notice it any more than I do."
The conversation was interrupted at this point by Freda Martin and
Blanche Nicholls, two of the prefects, who came past arm in arm.
"What are you four doing here?" asked Freda briskly. "Why aren't you
playing tennis with the others?"
"There isn't room," replied Phoebe. "The Fifth Form girls have got up
a tournament, and they'll keep the courts all the afternoon."
"Can't you have a round at croquet, instead?"
"We don't feel inclined."
"Basket ball, then?" suggested Blanche.
Dora leaned back against the stone shaft of the sundial, and yawned
luxuriously.
"No, we're simply enjoying doing nothing," she confessed.
"You lazy little wretches, you ought to be ashamed of yourselves! Get up
and take some exercise! Look here! if you care to run in and ask for
your exeats, you can come with us for a stroll to Chetbourne. There are
two of you apiece for us, so it will be just right to make 'threesomes';
only, quick's the word, and don't forget to bring your gloves!"
The members of the Lower School were not allowed outside the grounds of
the Grange without a teacher, except in very special circumstances; but
the Sixth Form girls had the right of taking walks within certain
bounds, if they went three together, and might occasionally extend the
privilege to some of the younger ones, on the understanding that they
were considered responsible for the latter. Each was only authorized,
however, to give two such invitations in the course of a term, so that
the lucky chance could fall to the lot of but a favoured few. In any
case, no girl might pass through the gate without an exeat or special
order from the head mistress, who always entered in a book the names of
those who thus had leave of absence.
Phoebe, Aldred, Dora and Myfanwy sprang up with an absolute howl of
joy. They had never anticipated such a piece of good fortune. The
prospect of an outing was delightful, and they rushed at once into the
house to secure the necessary permits from Miss Drummond, getting ready
and returning with such record speed that the two prefects could not
complain of being kept waiting. It was a beautiful afternoon in the
middle of October, so warm and fine that it seemed more like the height
of summer than autumn. Dahlias and hollyhocks were still in full bloom
in the garden, the trees had scarcely begun to change colour, and,
though the swallows had left, an industrious sparrow, mistaking the
season, was flying with a piece of hay in her bill, as if actually
contemplating another nest. The sun shone with an almost August glare as
the girls left the Grange and started for their walk over the downs; but
there was a pleasant breeze to temper the heat, and, as Freda declared,
the dash of the waves always had a cool sound, at any rate. The road ran
parallel with the cliffs, so that for the whole of the two miles they
had an uninterrupted view of the sea, which lay calm and sparkling, with
a gleaming sail here and there, or the smoke of a Channel steamer on the
horizon.
"I've never been to Chetbourne," announced Aldred. "I suppose it's very
jolly, with a promenade, and all that sort of thing?"
"It's the ordinary kind of seaside place," said Blanche Nicholls. "It's
generally very full in the summer."
"Are there any entertainments on the pier?"
"Oh, yes!--pierrots, and a band."
"Shall we have time to go and hear them?"
"We're not allowed. Our bounds stop just at the beginning of Chetbourne.
We mayn't go into the town, nor along the promenade."
"Why, what a swindle!" exclaimed Aldred. "I thought we were going to
have some fun!"
"Isn't the walk enough for you?" asked Freda.
"It's very nice; but it would have been amusing to see a few niggers, or
some performing dogs."
"The post office is our limit," said Blanche. "We always call a halt
there. They have a splendid set of picture postcards, and some nice Goss
china. A good many of us are collecting Goss."
"Then mayn't we go the least little scrap farther?" pleaded Aldred.
"Not a step!" replied Freda decisively.
Aldred said no more, and the six walked on, chatting of other matters,
until they reached the outskirts of the town. The post office was a
large shop, of a kind common at seaside resorts. A variety of
miscellaneous articles were on sale--shell boxes, photograph frames,
wicker baskets, cheap ornaments, and materials for fancy-work--and the
younger girls found their allowances burning holes in their pockets, and
stayed so long choosing souvenirs that their elders waxed impatient.
"Haven't you finished yet?" said Freda. "You must have turned over every
postcard in the box. Blanche and I want to go to the bookseller's. I
think we might leave you here for ten minutes. You'll be all right till
we come back," and she departed with her fellow-prefect to a shop
opposite.
The others finished their purchases and paid for them, then stood
waiting until their escorts should return. The post office was a long
building, and had two glass doors, one of which opened on to the main
street, while the other led into a side road. To the latter door Aldred
strolled leisurely, and stood gazing out at the general prospect.
"Is that the beach down there?" she asked Phoebe. "I almost think I
can see bathing vans."
"Yes; this road leads directly to the parade. It's only about half a
minute's walk."
"I should like immensely to take a look at the sea front."
"It's a beautiful promenade," said Dora. "It seems a shame you can't see
it."
"Couldn't we just run down to the end of the road, and have one peep?"
"What about Blanche and Freda? They'd never let us."
"They wouldn't see us go out at this door, and we should be back before
they were."
"All right! I'm ready, if you are."
"There can't be any harm in walking a hundred yards," added Phoebe.
"Come along, Myfanwy!"
With one accord the four girls rushed out of the post office and tore
down to the sea front. The promenade looked most inviting. The spell of
warm weather had brought a number of autumn visitors to Chetbourne, so
that there was quite a revival of the season. Children were digging on
the sands, the seats and the shelters were full of people reading or
chatting, and the constant stream of parasols, white flannels, and light
dresses passing up and down opposite the Marine Hotel again suggested
the month of August, rather than October.
"I believe the niggers are still here!" exclaimed Myfanwy excitedly. "Or
perhaps they went away, and have come back again. Don't you see them at
that corner by the tea-rooms?"
"There's certainly somebody with a banjo," said Phoebe. "I can't see
for the crowd. Oh! I caught a glimpse then of a tall white hat and a
red-striped jacket."
"I wonder whether it's the niggers or the pierrots?" said Dora.
"Do let us go and see!" begged Aldred. "It's such a very little way, we
shan't be two minutes."
She seized Dora by the arm, and began to urge her in the direction of
the music. Dora did not need much persuasion, and, as Phoebe and
Myfanwy offered no remonstrance, they all marched briskly along the
promenade. There was a spice of adventure in that, for they knew that
they had no business to be there, and that if they were seen and
recognized they might be reported to Miss Drummond, and get a severe
punishment for breaking bounds. In any case, there were the prefects to
be reckoned with. Blanche and Freda would be returning to the post
office, and would be extremely angry to find that they had not waited.
"We'll manage to square them somehow," said Phoebe. "I don't think
they'll tell Miss Drummond, although they'll probably scold."
"Of course, we shan't really stay a moment," maintained Dora. "We'll
just rush straight there and back. They surely can't be very cross at
that."
Yet, when they actually arrived at the rather congested corner where the
light-hearted negro minstrels, with carefully blacked faces and striped
collars, were making merry, they found it impossible not to stop and
listen to the songs and jokes. The leader of the troupe was a humorist,
and above the average of such performers; he kept his audience well
amused, and it was not until he had sent round the inevitable hat, and
bidden a polite adieu to the company, that the girls thought of
stirring. Even then, their attention was at once claimed, first by a man
with performing birds, and then by a Punch and Judy show. The poor
little canaries were really clever, while the tragedy of wicked Mr.
Punch is an ever-thrilling drama, and his squeaky voice has a peculiar
fascination of its own. Time passed rapidly, and the four runaways began
suddenly to realize that not only had they been gone much longer than a
few minutes, but that they had wandered almost the whole length of the
promenade.
"Why, we're nearly at the pier!" exclaimed Dora.
"We must turn back at once," said Phoebe.
"Let us buy a few chocolates before we go," suggested Aldred. "Isn't
there a shop here, or an automatic machine?"
"There's a kiosk on the pier-head," replied Dora. "They sell the most
delicious American popcorn there, in little boxes tied up with striped
ribbons."
"Then we'll get some."
"It's a fairly long way to the end of the pier."
"Well, when we've been away so long already, I can't see that a few
extra minutes matter."
"'As well be hung for a sheep as a lamb'!" quoted Phoebe.
"Yes; Blanche and Freda will wait, and they'll scold in any case."
"You'll have to pay for me, then," said Myfanwy, "for I haven't any
money left."
"All right; I have plenty," responded Aldred, putting down her pennies
on the counter of the toll gate, and pushing hastily through the
turnstile. "Now we can run, if you like. How jolly it is on these
boards! You can just see the water through the chinks."
The pier was even more interesting than the promenade. There were so
many different kinds of automatic machines, which, by the magic of a
penny in the slot, would set a team of miniature cricketers to work, and
cause mimic soldiers to drill, or ships to sail across imitation oceans.
There was a little chalet where cheap jewellery and the polished stones
of the neighbourhood were displayed; a fruit shop, and an emporium for
sticks and fishing-rods. All these seemed to attract Aldred, and delayed
her so much that the others were obliged to take her by the arms and tug
her along towards the confectionary kiosk. She had just made an
investment in chocolates and popcorn, and the girls were turning to
hasten back along the pier, when Dora had an idea.
"Look!" she said; "the steamer's just starting. It always stops at the
jetty, and it will take us to the other end of the promenade far faster
than we can walk. It's only a penny fare."
"Yes, it would save time," agreed Phoebe. "Come along!"
The bell was ringing, so without waiting to ask questions the four ran
down the steps and across the gangway on to the vessel. They were not a
second too soon, for she started directly they were on board. The deck
was rather crowded with passengers, but the four made their way to a
fairly quiet corner, and managed to find seats. Several little coasting
steamers ran between the pier, the jetty, the North End, and the
lighthouse, and were much patronized by visitors in summer. It would
only take a few minutes, so the girls calculated, to reach the first
landing-place, which was close to the post office. Blanche and Freda
would no doubt be waiting for them in a very irate frame of mind, but
perhaps might be cajoled into not reporting the matter at head-quarters.
"Freda is particularly fond of popcorn, I know," said Myfanwy.
"We'll all cry _peccavi_, and say we're sorry," added Phoebe. "We
certainly never intended to be away so long as this. It must have taken
us half an hour."
"Perhaps they'll think we've started home," suggested Dora, "and imagine
we're waiting for them on the downs."
"Well, we shall very soon see; we're nearly at the jetty."
"I wonder why so many people are taking portmanteaux with them for this
tiny, little voyage?" commented Aldred, looking round at the passengers,
most of whom seemed to be encumbered with some impedimenta in the way of
luggage.
"How funny! I never saw them on one of these steamers before," replied
Myfanwy. "Perhaps the people are visitors going to stay at the North
End."
"There's the jetty," announced Dora; "we shall be off directly. Hallo!
Why aren't we stopping? Oh, Phoebe! Myfanwy! Aldred! Look: we're
actually going past it!"