The School Service Badge
Settling down at Abbey Close after a month at Highfield was like
transferring oneself from a noisy farmyard to the calm of the cloister.
The house was so near to the Minster that it seemed pervaded by the
quiet Cathedral atmosphere. When Winona drew up her blinds in the
morning, the first sight that greeted her would be the grey old towers
and carved pinnacles, exactly opposite, where the jackdaws were
chattering, and the pigeons wheeling round, and the big clock was going
through the chimes and striking the hour of seven. There was a
particular gargoyle at the corner of the transept roof which appeared to
be grinning at her across the road, as if some imp were imprisoned in
the stone image, and were peeping out of its fantastic eyes. Winona had
grown to love the Minster. She would go in whenever she had ten minutes
to spare after school. The glorious arches and pillars, the carved choir
stalls, the light falling through the splendid rich windows on to the
marble pavement, all appealed to the artistic sense that was stirring in
her, and gave her immense satisfaction. But even the beauty of the
Cathedral was as nothing when the organ began to play. Mr. Holmes, the
organist, was a great musician, and could manage his instrument with a
wizard touch. In the afternoons, between four and five o'clock, he was
wont to practice his voluntaries, and to listen to these took Winona
into a new world of sound. He was a disciple of the extreme modern
school of music, and his interpretations of Debussy, César Franck,
Medtner and Glazounow came to her as a revelation. The glorious weird
harmonies, the strange, unaccustomed chords of these tone-poems stirred
her like the memory of something long forgotten. As Anglo-Indians, whose
knowledge of Hindustani faded with their childhood, yet start and thrill
at the sound of the once familiar language, so this dream-music brought
haunting elusive suggestions too subtle to be defined. It held a
distinct part in Winona's development.
The girl was growing up suddenly. In the almost nursery atmosphere of
Highfield, with nothing to stimulate her faculties she had remained at a
very childish stage, but now, with a world of art, music, science and
literature dawning round her she seemed to leap upward to the level of
her new intellectual horizon. It is a glorious time when we first begin
to reap the inheritance of the ages, and to discover the rich stores of
delight that master minds have laid up for us to enjoy. Life was moving
very fast to Winona; she could not analyze all her fresh thoughts and
impressions, but she felt she could no more go back to her last year's
mental outlook than she could have worn the long clothes of her
babyhood. She was sixteen now, for her birthday fell on the 20th of
January. Somehow sixteen sounded so infinitely older than fifteen! There
was a dignity about it and a sense of importance. In another year she
would actually be "sweet seventeen," and a member of that enviable
school hierarchy the Sixth Form!
Winona could have made herself thoroughly happy at Abbey Close but for
the shadow that existed between herself and Aunt Harriet. Percy's secret
was a perpetual burden on her conscience. At meal times she would often
find her eyes wandering towards the oak cupboard, and would start
guiltily, hoping Miss Beach had not noticed. The more she thought about
the subject the more convinced she became that she ought to give some
hint of the state of affairs, though how to do so without implicating
her brother was at present beyond her calculations. One day, however, a
really hopeful opportunity seemed to arise. A case of a disputed will
was being tried at the Seaton Sessions; the defendants were friends of
Miss Beach's, and after reading the account of the proceedings, Aunt
Harriet laid down the local paper with a few comments.
"I suppose people ought to make their wills very fast and firm," said
Winona. It was seldom she ventured on an independent remark. As a rule
she left her aunt to do the talking.
"Undoubtedly. Nothing causes more trouble than carelessness in this
respect."
"Ought we all to make wills?"
"If we have anything to leave it's advisable."
"Ought I?"
"Well, hardly at present, I should say!"
"Ought mother?" Winona was growing redder and redder.
"No doubt she has done so."
"Have you made yours, Aunt Harriet?"
The horrible deed was done, and Winona, crimson to the roots of her
hair, felt she had, metaphorically speaking, burnt her boats.
Miss Beach stared at her as if electrified.
"What do you want to know for?" she asked, suspiciously. "I think that's
decidedly my business and not yours!"
Winona collapsed utterly, and murmuring something about preparation,
fled to her bedroom.
"There! I've just gone and put my foot in it altogether!" she groaned.
"I've no tact! I went and blurted it out like an idiot. She'll never
forgive me! Oh, why can't I go and tell her the whole business, and then
she'd understand! I do hate this sneaking work. Percy, you wretched boy,
I'd like to bump your head against the wall! It's too bad to land me in
your scrape! Well, I suppose it can't be helped. I've said it, and it's
done. But I know I'll be in disgrace for evermore."
Certainly Aunt Harriet's manner towards Winona, after this unfortunate
episode, was stiffer than formerly. She was perfectly kind, but the gulf
between them had widened. They still discussed conventional topics at
meal-times, or rather Miss Beach made leading remarks and Winona said
"Yes," or "No," for such a one-sided conversation could hardly be termed
discussion. The girl felt it a relief when, as often happened, her aunt
took refugein a book. Occasionally Winona would pluck up courage to
relate news from her home letters, but of her school life and all her
new impressions and interests she scarcely spoke at all. Judging from
the children's correspondence the new governess at Highfield, after a
stormy beginning, was making some impressions upon her wild little
pupils.
"I hated her at first," wrote Mamie, "but she tells us the most lovely
fairy tales, and we're learning to model in clay. I like it because it
makes such a mess. Ernie smacked her yesterday, and she wouldn't let him
do his painting till he'd said he was sorry."
Winona laughed over the letters, picturing the lively scenes that must
be taking place at home.
"Do the kids a world of good!" she commented. "They were running to
seed. Even I could see that, as long ago as last summer, and I don't
mind confessing, quite to myself, that I was fairly raw then. I didn't
know very much about anything till I came to the 'Seaton High.'"
Winona's second term was running far more smoothly than her first.
Thanks to Miss Lever's coaching she could now hold her own in her Form,
and though she might not be the most shining light, at any rate she was
not numbered among the slackers.
Her progress was marked in more quarters than she suspected. Margaret
Howell had had the Scholarship winners under observation ever since
their arrival. As head girl she made it her business to know something
about every girl in the school. "The General," as she was nicknamed, was
universally voted a success. She and Kirsty Paterson between them had
organized a new era of things. Every one felt the "Seaton High" was
waking up and beginning to found a reputation for itself. The various
guilds and societies were prospering, and following Margaret's pet motto
"Pro Bono Publico," had exterminated private quarrels and instituted the
most business-like proceedings and the strictest civility at committee
meetings. Already the general tone was raised immeasurably, and public
spirit and school patriotism ran high. To encourage zeal and
strenuousness, Margaret and Kirsty had laid their heads together and
decided to found what they called "The Order of Distinguished School
Service." Any girl who was considered to have performed some action
worthy of special commendation or who had otherwise contributed to the
general benefit, was to be rewarded with a badge, and her name was to be
chronicled in a book kept for the purpose.
The very first to gain the honor was little Daisy Hicks, a Second Form
child, who won 9,400 marks out of a possible 10,000 in the Christmas
exams, so far the highest score known in the school. Agnes Heath, who
wrung special praise from the doctor who conducted the Ambulance
examination, and Gladys Vickcrs, whose photograph of the hockey team was
published in the Seaton _Weekly Graphic_, were also placed upon the
distinguished list, having substantially helped the credit of the
school. The badge was only a rosette made of narrow ribbons, stitched in
tiny loops into the form of a daisy, with a yellow disk, and white and
pink outer rays. If meant very much, however, to the recipient, who knew
that her name would be handed down to posterity in the school
traditions, and every girl was immensely keen to earn it.
A new institution in the school this term was the foundation of a
library. It had been a pet project of Margaret's ever since her
appointment as head prefect. Just before the Christmas breaking up she
had called a general meeting and begged everybody after the holidays to
present at least one contribution.
"It may be a new book or an old one," she had explained, "but it must be
really interesting. Please don't bring rubbish. Give something you would
enjoy reading yourself and can recommend to your friends."
The response to her appeal had been greater than she anticipated. Nobody
failed to comply, and some of the girls brought several books apiece. A
start was made with three hundred and forty-one volumes, which was
regarded as a most creditable beginning. For the present they were piled
up in the prefects' room until shelves had been made to receive them.
Miss Bishop had given the order to the joiner, but owing to the war it
might be some time before the work was finished.
Meanwhile Margaret decided that the books ought to be catalogued and
labeled, so that they would be quite ready when the bookcases arrived.
She cast about for helpers in this rather arduous task, and her choice
fell upon Winona, who happened to have a spare half-hour between her
classes on Tuesday and Thursday afternoons. Winona, immensely flattered,
accepted the responsibility with glee, and was put to work under the
"General's" directions. She thoroughly enjoyed sorting, dusting, pasting
on labels, and making alphabetical lists.
"I shouldn't mind being a librarian some day in a big public library,"
she assured Ellinor Cooper, her fellow-assistant.
"You'd have to be quicker than you are at present, then," remarked
Margaret dryly. "They wouldn't think you worth your salt if you spent
all your time reading the books. Buck up, can't you? and get on!"
At which Winona guiltily shut "Shirley" with a bang and turned her
attention to the paste-pot.
While Margaret was cultivating the intellectual side of the school,
Kirsty was carefully attending to her duties as Games Captain. Her work
among the juniors prospered exceedingly. They were taking to hockey with
wild enthusiasm and gave evidence of considerable promise. As most of
them were free at three o'clock, they got the chance of playing almost
every day. Kirsty was extremely anxious that these practices should be
properly supervised. She was too busy herself to take them personally,
so she was obliged to delegate the work to anybody who had the spare
time.
"The girls I want most are all at classes or music lessons," she
lamented. "Not a single one of the team's available. Winona Woodward,
I've been looking at your time-table, and find you've two vacant
half-hours. Wouldn't you like to help?"
"Like! I'd sell my birthright to do it!" gasped Winona. "But I'm
fearfully sorry; I'm cataloguing for Margaret!"
"Then I mustn't take you away from the General! It's a nuisance though,
for you'd have done very well, and I don't know who else I can get."
Winona considered it was one of the sharpest disappointments she had
ever gone through.
"Oh, the grizzly bad luck of it!" she wailed to Garnet. "It would have
been idyllic to coach those kids. And it would have given me such a leg
up with Kirsty! To think I've lost my chance!"
"I suppose Margaret might get some one else to do cataloguing?"
"I dare say: but I couldn't possibly ask her, and I'm sure Kirsty won't.
No, I'm done for!"
School etiquette is very strict, and Winona would have perished sooner
than resign her library duties. She felt a martyr, but resolved to smile
through it all. Garnet contemplated the problem at leisure during her
drawing lesson, and arrived at a daring conclusion. Without consulting
her friend she marched off at four o'clock to the prefects' room, a
little sanctum on the ground floor where the minutes' books of the
various guilds and societies were kept, and where the school officers
could hold meetings and transact business.
As she expected, Margaret was there alone, and said "Come in" in answer
to her rap at the door. The members of the Sixth kept much on their
dignity, so it was rather a formidable undertaking even for a Fifth Form
girl to interrupt the head of the school. Margaret looked up
inquiringly as Garnet entered.
"Yes, I'm fearfully busy," she replied to the murmured question. "What
is it? I can give you five minutes, but no more, so please be brief."
Thus urged, Garnet, though greatly embarrassed, did not beat about the
bush.
"I've come to ask a frightfully cheeky thing," she blurted out. "Kirsty
wants Winona to coach the kids at hockey, and Winona's cataloguing for
you, so of course she can't--and--" but here Garnet's courage failed
her, so she paused.
"Do you mean that Winona would prefer to help with the juniors?"
"She'd be torn in pieces rather than let me say so, but she's just crazy
over hockey. I hope I haven't made any mischief! Win doesn't know I've
come."
"All right. I understand. I'll see what can be done in the matter,"
returned the General, opening her books as a sign of dismissal.
Garnet was not at all sure whether her mission had succeeded or the
reverse, but the next day Margaret sent for Winona.
"I hear Kirsty wants you for a hockey coach. Just at present I think
games are of more importance in the school than the library, so please
report yourself to her, and say I've taken your name off my list. You've
done very well here, but I'm going to lend you to Kirsty for a while."
Winona was so astounded she hardly knew whether to stammer out
apologies, gratitude, or regrets, and was intensely relieved when the
head girl cut her short kindly but firmly, and sent her away. She lost
no time in seeking out the Games Captain.
"Very decent of Margaret," remarked Kirsty. "It's got me out of a hole,
for I couldn't find anybody else with that special time free. You'll do
your best I know?"
"_Rather_!" beamed Winona ecstatically.
Under her tuition the children's play improved fast. Kirsty said
little--she was not given to over-praising people--but Winona felt she
noticed and approved.
Among the season's fixtures perhaps the most important was the match
with the Seaton Ladies' Hockey Club that was to come off on March 7th.
Their opponents possessed a fair reputation in the city, so it would
behove the school to "play up for all they were worth," as Kirsty
expressed it. It would be a glorious opportunity of showing their
capabilities to the world at large, and demonstrating that they meant to
take their due place in local athletics.
Three days before the event, Kirsty appeared in the morning with the air
of a tragedy queen.
"What's the matter?" queried Patricia. "You've a face as long as a
fiddle!"
"Matter enough! Barbara Jennings is laid up with influenza! What'll
become of the match I don't know. It makes me feel rocky. Where's
Margaret? I want to confab. Did you ever hear of such grizzly luck in
your life?"
At five minutes past eleven, when Winona was eating her lunch in the
gymnasium, Kirsty tapped her on the shoulder.
"I've something to tell you, Winona Woodward. You're to play for the
School on Saturday instead of Barbara."
Winona swallowed a piece of biscuit with foolhardy haste. She could
scarcely believe the news, so great was its magnitude. To be asked to
fill a vacant place in the team was beyond her wildest dreams.
"Thanks most _immensely_!" she stammered, with her eyes shining like
stars.
Through the next few days Winona simply lived for Saturday. To be able
to represent the School! The glorious thought was never for a moment
absent from her mind. She even ventured to tell Aunt Harriet the honor
that had been thrust upon her, and was astonished at the interest with
which her information was received.
On the Saturday afternoon the High School turned up almost in full force
to view the match; juniors were keen as seniors, and the children whom
Winona had coached were wild with excitement. The field was packed with
spectators, for the Ladies' Club had brought many friends. It was even
rumored that a reporter from the Seaton _Weekly Graphic_ was present.
The High School team in navy blue gymnasium costumes, bare heads and
close-plaited pigtails, looked neat and trim and very business-like. "A
much fitter set than we showed last year!" murmured Margaret with
satisfaction. All eyes were riveted on the field as the two opponents
stood out to "bully" and the sticks first clashed together. Winona, her
face aglow with excitement, waited a chance to run. A little later her
opportunity came: she dashed into the masses of the opponents' force,
and with one magnificent stroke swept the ball well onward towards the
goal.
"Oh! how precious!" shouted the girls.
Nobody had imagined Winona capable of such a feat. She at once became
the focus of all eyes. It had not occurred to the High School that there
was a real possibility of their winning the match. They had expected to
make a gallant fight and be defeated, retiring with all the honors of
war. Perhaps the Ladies' Club team, who had come to the field secure of
victory, began to feel pangs of uneasiness under their white jerseys.
The situation was supreme. The score had become even. Could the School
possibly do it? That was the question. All looked to Winona for the
answer. She was playing like one inspired. She had not realized her own
capacities before: the wild excitement of the moment seemed to lend
wings to her feet and strength and skill to her arm. One heroic,
never-to-be-forgotten stroke, and the ball was spinning between the
posts. It was a magnificent finish. Frantic applause rose up from the
spectators. The High School cheered its champions in a glorious roar of
victory. The Ladies' Club team were magnanimous enough to offer
congratulations, and their captain shook hands with Winona.
"Glad to see how your standard's gone up!" she remarked to Kirsty
aside. "That half-back of yours is worth her salt!"
Kirsty was literally purring with satisfaction. Last year the High
School had been badly beaten in more than half its matches. This was
indeed a new page in its records.
On Monday morning Winona received a message summoning her to the
prefects' room. She found Margaret, Kirsty, and the other school
officers assembled there.
"Winona Woodward," said the head girl, "we have decided to present you
with the School Service Badge, in recognition of your play on Saturday.
It is felt that you really secured the match, and as this is our first
great victory we consider you deserve to have it recorded in your favor.
Your name has been entered in the book. Come here!"
Winona turned crimson as Margaret pinned the daisy badge on to her
blouse.
"I--I've been only too proud to do what I can!" she blurted out. "Thanks
most _awfully_!"