CHAPTER IV.

CASTING OF THE DIE.

Rosamund and Jane Denton shared the same bedroom. They had been friends

from childhood, for they had lived in the same street and gone to the

same kindergarten together, and their mothers had been old

school-fellows before marriage, so their friendship had grown up, as it

were, with their very lives.

But Jane was a girl of no very special characteristics; she leant on

Rosamund, admiring her far more vivacious ways and appearance, glad to

be in her society, and somewhat indifferent to every one else in the

wide world.

She sat now on a low and comfortable seat near the open window. Prayers

were over, but the time that Rosamund had fixed for meeting Lucy

Merriman had not quite arrived. She yawned and stretched herself

luxuriously.

"I shall go to bed. Our work begins to-morrow. What are you sitting up

for, Rosamund?"

"I am going out again in a few minutes," said Rosamund.

"Are you indeed?" cried Jane. "Then may I come with you? I shan't

be a bit sleepy if I am walking out in the moonlight. But I

thought----However, I suppose rules don't begin to-day."

"What do you mean by that?"

"I heard Miss Archer say that we were not to go out after half-past nine

unless by special permission."

"Oh, well, as you remarked, rules don't begin until to-morrow, so I can

go out at any hour I like to-night."

"I wonder why?" said Jane, and she looked up with a languid curiosity,

which was all she could ever rise to, in her light-blue eyes.

Rosamund knelt by the window-sill; she put her arms on it and gazed out

into the summer night. She heard people talking below her in the

shrubbery. A few words fell distinctly on her ears, "I hate her, and I

shall never be her friend!" and then the voices died away in the

distance.

Jane had risen at that moment to fetch a novel which she was reading, so

she did not hear what Rosamund had heard.

Rosamund's young face was now very white. There was a steady, pursed-up

expression about her mouth. She suddenly slammed down the window with

some force.

"What is it, Rose? What is the matter? Why shouldn't we have the window

open on a hot night like, this?"

"Because I like it to be shut. You must put up with me as I am," said

Rosamund. "I will open it if you wish in a few minutes. I have changed

my mind, I am not going out. I shall go to bed. I have a severe

headache."

"But wouldn't a walk in the moonlight with me, on our very last evening

of freedom, take your headache away?" said Jane in a coaxing voice.

"No; I would rather not go out. You can do as you please. Only, creep in

quietly when I am asleep. Don't wake me; that's all I ask."

"Oh, I'll just get into bed, dear, if you have a headache. But how

suddenly it has come on!"

"This room is so stifling," she said. "After all, this is a small sort

of school, and the rooms are low and by no means airy."

Jane could not help laughing.

"I never heard you talk in such a silly way before. Why, it was you who

shut the window just now. How can you expect, on a hot summer's evening,

the room to be cool with the window shut?"

"Well, fling it open--fling it open!" said Rosamund. "I don't mind."

Jane quickly did so. There was a crunching noise of steps--solitary

steps--on the gravel below. Jane put out her head.

"Why, there is Lucy Merriman!" she said.

Lucy heard the voice, and looked up.

"Is Rosamund coming down? I am waiting for her," she said.

Jane turned at once to Rosamund.

"Lucy is waiting for you. Was it with Lucy you meant to walk? She wants

to know if you are going down."

"Tell her I am not going down," replied Rosamund.

"She can't go down to-night," said Jane. "She has a headache."

"I wish you wouldn't give excuses of that sort," said Rosamund in an

angry voice when her friend put in her head once more. "What does it

matter to Lucy Merriman whether I have a headache or not?"

Jane stared at her friend in some astonishment.

"I do not understand you, nor why you wanted to walk with her. I thought

you did not like her."

"I tell you what," said Rosamund fiercely, "I don't like her, and I'm

not going to talk about her. I am going to ignore her. I am going to

make this house too hot for her. She shall go and live with her aunt

Susan, or she shall know her place. I, Rosamund Cunliffe, know my own

power, and I mean to exercise it. It is the casting of the die, Jane; it

is the flinging down of the gauntlet. And now, for goodness' sake, let

us get into bed."

Both retired to rest, and in a few minutes Jane was fast asleep; but

Rosamund lay awake for a long time, with angry feelings animating her

breast.

In the morning the full routine of school-life began, and even Lucy was

drawn into a semblance of interest, so full were the hours, so animated

the way of the teachers, so eager and pleasant and stimulating the

different professors. Then the English mistress, Miss Archer, knew so

much, and was so tactful and charming; and Mademoiselle Omont knew her

own tongue so beautifully, and was also such a perfect German scholar!

In short, the seven girls had their work cut out for them, and there was

not a minute's pause to allow ambition and envy and jealousy to creep

in.

Lucy had one opportunity of asking Rosamund why she did not keep her

appointment of the night before.

"You surprised me," she said. "I thought you were honorable and would

keep your word. I had some difficulty in getting Miss Archer out of the

way, for she was talking to me so nicely and so wisely, I can tell you,

I was quite enjoying it. But I managed to get right away from her, and

to walk under your window, and you never came."

"I suppose I was at liberty to change my mind," said Rosamund, her dark

eyes flashing with anger.

"Oh! of course you were. But it would have been more polite to let me

know. Not that it matters. I was not particularly keen to talk to you. I

am so glad that Miss Archer is my friend. She gave me to understand last

night how much she liked me, and how much she meant to help me with my

studies. I believe from what she says that she considers I shall be

quite the cleverest girl in the school. She believes in hereditary

talent, and my dear father is a sort of genius, so, of course, as his

only child, I ought to follow in his footsteps."

"Of course you ought," said Rosamund in a calm voice. "Then be the

cleverest girl in the school."

"I mean to have a great try," said Lucy, with a laugh; and Rosamund gave

her an unpleasant glance.

A Modern Tomboy: A Story for Girls · 第 4 / 27 章