The Arithmetic Examination
Patty's first letter home was, after all, a far more genuinely cheerful
one than she had expected. She thought it better not to say anything
about Muriel's behaviour, knowing it would greatly distress her father
and mother, so only mentioned that she had made friends with her
fellow-travellers in the train, and how much she liked them. To be
included in such a pleasant set certainly made all the difference
between happiness and unhappiness at The Priory. Enid seemed determined
to make up to Patty for the neglect she had experienced at first, and
took great pains not only to show her the ways of the school, but to see
that she took her due part in the tennis sets and other games. Miss
Lincoln had arranged the afternoon exercise as systematically as the
morning lessons, with the object of obtaining as much variety as
possible. Twice weekly the girls played hockey under the direction of
Miss Latimer, the gymnastic mistress; twice also they were taken for
walks in the neighbourhood; and on the remaining Wednesday and Saturday
afternoons, which were regarded as half-holidays, they were allowed to
amuse themselves as they liked, though they were required to be
out-of-doors if the weather permitted. The judicious combination of work
and play made the daily round both pleasant and healthy. The girls had
enough lessons to keep them occupied, yet their brains were not
over-taxed, and the hours spent in the open air ensured rosy cheeks and
good appetites. When once she had settled down in her fresh
surroundings, and the longing for home had become less keen, Patty found
life at The Priory very congenial--whether in class, where Miss Harper
made every subject so interesting; in the refectory, where she now sat
in great content between Enid and Avis; or in the playing fields, where
she was beginning to understand the mysteries of hockey, and to grow
quite clever at putting, which was a favourite substitute for golf. She
enjoyed the atmosphere of a large school, the little excitements, and
the hundred-and-one topics of conversation which seemed continually to
be discussed by those around her. After having been the eldest at home,
and the head pupil at Miss Dawson's, with so much to overlook and to
arrange for others, it was quite a relief to find herself among the
younger ones, and she would listen with enthusiasm to the speeches of
the prefects in the debating society, and watch their prowess at hockey
with never-failing admiration. She had not yet dared to speak to any of
the big girls; but they seemed so clever and important in her eyes, that
she felt pleased if she might only stand near while they were talking,
and proud indeed if she happened to be included in the same team with
some of them.
Naturally, her new life was not without its troubles. After Miss
Dawson's easy methods, she found it needed all her energies to keep up
to the high standard required by Miss Harper. She worked her hardest
both in school hours and preparation, but even with her best efforts it
was not always possible to win approbation from her teacher, and her
most careful exercises were often returned with ruthlessly severe
comments. Her companions in No. 7 were also uncongenial. They were
themselves members of the Upper Fourth, and though they now spoke to
her, and were to a certain degree more civil, they were not really nice
and friendly, and often made her feel she was not wanted in the bedroom.
They were willing enough to accept any of the kind little services
which she was generally ready to perform, allowed her to tidy the room,
to throw open the windows, to go to the bathroom to fetch the large can
of hot water which was to be divided among the four basins; indeed, they
began to depend so much upon her, that if a button needed stitching on
hastily, a blouse fastening at the back, or a lost article must be
searched for, they all said "Ask Patty", without the least hesitation,
knowing that she would not refuse, and never seemed too busy to help
other people. Of her cousin Patty saw little, and that little was
unfortunately far from pleasant. Muriel seemed determined to show that
although they might both be in the same school, and even in the same
class, she did not intend to be compromised by their relationship. She
was a very vain girl, who thought much of her parents' wealth and
position. She considered Patty's advent would not bring her any great
credit among the set of companions whom she had chosen, whose standard
consisted mainly of pretty clothes and worldly possessions, and she was
annoyed that her father should have wished to give her cousin the same
advantages as herself. She lost no opportunity of slighting Patty, never
by any chance sat next to her, always chose the opposite side in a game,
and on many small occasions made herself actively disagreeable. Patty
bore it as patiently as she could. She ventured once to remonstrate in
private, but the result was so unfortunate, that she determined she
would not try the experiment again. Evidently the only thing to be done
was to acknowledge the estrangement, and to keep out of Muriel's way as
much as possible. Her uncle's letter, however, weighed on her mind. How
was she to prove her cousin's friend so entirely against her will? Poor
Patty's conscience, always a tender one, even accused her of accepting
Uncle Sidney's kindness without fulfilling his conditions, and she
sometimes wondered whether she was justified in remaining at The Priory,
when she was not able to play the part he had designed for her.
"And yet," she thought, "it's not my fault in the least. I'm ready any
time to help her if she'll let me. Perhaps an opportunity may come some
day, and in the meantime, however horrid she is to me, I won't say
anything disagreeable back. That's one resolve I mean to stick to, at
any rate, though it's hard sometimes, when she says such nasty things."
The Fourth Form seemed split up into a good many small sections. The
lower division kept mostly to itself, and in the upper division there
were several sets. Muriel and her three friends, for no good reason at
all, considered themselves slightly superior to the rest of the class,
and put on many airs in consequence, a state of affairs which was much
resented by Enid Walker and Winnie Robinson, who, with Avis Wentworth,
had a clique of their own, in which they now included Jean Bannerman and
Patty. Doris Kennedy, May Firth, and Ella Johnson, the three girls who
shared Patty's bedroom, made a separate little circle with Beatrice
Wynne, while Cissie Gardiner and Maggie Woodhall were such bosom friends
that they did not want anybody else's society. Patty found the liking
she had taken to Jean Bannerman increased on further acquaintance. Jean
was a most pleasant companion; she was interesting and sympathetic, and
while ready enough for fun, was more staid and thoughtful than Enid,
though the latter's amusing nonsense and bright, warm-hearted ways made
her very attractive. Poor Enid was often in trouble; her lively tongue
could not resist talking in class or whispering during preparation
hours. She was ready enough to respect Miss Harper, but she was apt to
defy Miss Rowe's authority, a form of insubordination which generally
ended in disastrous consequences. Patty, in common with most of the
class, found it rather difficult to get on with Miss Rowe. It felt hard
to be corrected sharply for some slight slip, and to be expected to
obey every trivial order as promptly as soldiers on parade duty. The
girls resented the young teacher's imperious manner, and were sometimes
on the verge of rebellion.
"She's only about five years older than we are," declared Enid, "if so
much. I believe she's younger than my sister Adeline at home, so it's
absurd to be expected to behave as if she were Miss Lincoln. She's
really not much more than a monitress, although she's called a
mistress."
"She makes so many tiresome, silly rules," said Winnie. "Miss Harper
never thinks of telling us to sit with our arms folded, or all to open
our books at exactly the same moment, and to place our pencils on the
right-hand side of our desks. One feels like a kindergarten baby with
Miss Rowe. She ought to teach children of six."
"I wish she didn't take arithmetic, at any rate," groaned Avis. "I never
can get my sums right, especially those horrid problem ones she's so
fond of. The more she explains, the more muddled I feel, and then she
says I'm the stupidest girl in the class, and tells Miss Lincoln it's no
use sending me in for the 'Cambridge', because she's sure I shouldn't
pass."
"She's good at mathematics herself," said Winnie, "and she thinks that
anyone who isn't hasn't got brains. All my problem sums were wrong
yesterday, and I got a bad mark. I hope she won't put too many of them
in the exam. to-day."
"If she does we'll go on strike, and say we can't do the paper. I can't
possibly calculate where two people will meet each other on the road, if
they start from different points at different times. I should think it
depends how often they sit down to rest, or stop to talk to friends on
the way, or how fast they want to get to the end of their journey," said
Avis.
"There was that dreadful problem about dividing oranges among
schoolboys," continued Winnie. "If I know anything of boys, they'd have
thrown them down and scrambled for them; it would have been a far easier
way of settling it. I always feel my head ache after trying to reckon
those absurd things."
Every fortnight the class had a small examination in arithmetic, which
was almost as solemn an affair as those held at the end of the term.
Among other rules, Miss Rowe had decided that the girls, instead of
remaining at their own desks, should all change places and sit according
to her directions, her object being to separate those kindred spirits
who, she considered, might be tempted to whisper or otherwise
communicate with each other if left in too close proximity. By this new
arrangement Patty found herself seated next to Muriel. Enid was at the
desk behind, and it was therefore impossible to exchange even a smile
with her without deliberately turning round. For some time the class
worked away steadily and in silence. Occasionally a girl would so far
forget herself as to count aloud, but a glare from Miss Rowe would
instantly recall her to a sense of the enormity of such a misdeed.
Naughty Enid managed to draw a cat on the margin of her blotting paper,
and held it up for an admiring comrade to see; and Beatrice Wynne gave a
terrific yawn, for which she was told to lose an order mark. Patty had
been struggling for a long time with a difficult sum in compound
proportion, and having just finished it, paused for a moment to take a
rest. She presently became aware that Muriel, with lips pursed up as if
forming the word "Hush!" was trying to attract her attention, and that
Muriel's hand was secretly passing her a small note under cover of the
desk. She opened it at once. It ran thus:
"How do you state Question 5? Ought the answer to be in bales of silk or
days?"
Now Patty had only been a fortnight at The Priory; she knew little of
the rules of a large school, and this was the first real class
examination in which she had ever taken part. At Miss Dawson's school
she was accustomed to help any girl who applied to her for aid, and
indeed had often taught the younger ones how to work new rules, with the
full sanction and approval of the mistress. She did not yet understand
that an examination was a test of individual knowledge, and that no
assistance must be either asked for or given. The only thing she
realized was that Muriel wanted to know something which it was in her
power to explain. She moved, therefore, as close to her cousin as she
could, and, leaning over towards the latter's desk, took up her paper of
questions.
"I've just finished it myself, and it comes out nicely in bales of
silk," she whispered.
"Patty Hirst!" cried Miss Rowe, springing up in horrified indignation.
"Do you know that any girl detected in the act of copying must instantly
leave the examination?"
"Please, Miss Rowe, I wasn't copying," returned Patty, with some
surprise.
"But I saw you deliberately look at your neighbour's paper."
"I wanted to show her something," explained Patty.
"Indeed!" said Miss Rowe incredulously. "You know perfectly well that
all communication is strictly forbidden. Muriel, did you ask Patty
anything?"
"I didn't speak at all, Miss Rowe," replied Muriel hastily.
"I am glad to hear it. Patty, take your papers at once and come to this
table by the window. One of our first principles at The Priory is the
strictest honesty in our work."
"But indeed I never intended----" began Patty.
"Do as you are told, or leave the room!" commanded Miss Rowe in her most
decisive tone. "I cannot have the examination interrupted."
Patty gathered up her papers and obeyed in silence. She saw that she had
been suspected of trying to cheat, and the injustice of the accusation
was hard to bear. It was impossible to clear herself without involving
Muriel, and she hated to tell tales. She felt it was too bad of her
cousin thus to let her bear all the blame, for Muriel, even if she had
not spoken, had put the question in writing, so that she had practically
told an untruth to Miss Rowe when she denied any knowledge of the
affair. Would the other girls in the class, Patty asked herself, also
think she was trying to copy her neighbour's sums and gain an unfair
advantage? To such an honourable nature the idea was terrible, and she
longed to protest her innocence. Perhaps nobody would be friends with
her any more if they believed her capable of such conduct, and she
would be lonely again, as she had been at first. The little occurrence,
though it only occupied a few minutes, completely disturbed the
examination as far as she was concerned. She found it no longer possible
to concentrate her mind on her sums. In the midst of adding up a column
her thoughts were busy trying to imagine some explanation which might
perhaps be given without betraying Muriel, and as no solution of the
difficulty occurred to her, she found herself going over the same
figures again and again without in the least realizing what she was
doing. Matters, however, were not quite so desperate as she supposed.
Enid's sharp eyes had taken in the whole situation. From her seat behind
she had seen Muriel hand the note to Patty, and had also noticed that
the little piece of paper had fallen on to the floor underneath the
desk. Putting out her foot, she managed to draw it nearer to her, then,
dropping her pocket handkerchief, she stooped and picked up the two
together, without anybody noticing that she had done so. She put the
crumpled note with her handkerchief into her pocket, and went on with
her examination, determined to sift the affair afterwards, and to take
up the cudgels boldly on Patty's account. At eleven o'clock all papers
were tied and handed in to Miss Rowe, and the girls filed out of the
room. Enid saw Muriel glance cautiously at the floor under Patty's desk,
as if searching for her note, and laughed to herself to think that she
had already secured it.
"Are you looking for anything?" she asked, meaningly.
"Oh, dear, no!" returned Muriel. "At least, I thought I'd dropped a
piece of indiarubber; but it doesn't matter, I've two or three others."
Enid waited a moment to let her pass, then, following, found all the
class collected in a group outside the pantry door, talking over the
examination and comparing the answers to the sums.
"What have you got for No. 5, Vera?" said Kitty Harrison. "Wasn't it a
most horribly difficult one?"
"Dreadful! I couldn't do it at all. I got my statements in such a
muddle, I had to leave it."
"What's your answer, Muriel?" asked Cissie Gardiner.
"270 bales of silk, but I don't believe it's right."
"Most of the others have 340 bales."
"Which others?"
"Why, Patty Hirst, and Beatrice Wynne, and Ella Johnson. Patty has most
of her sums right, I think."
"She may well have," sneered Maud Greening, "if she copies other
people's," she added under her breath.
"I don't even look at anyone else when I'm working," observed Muriel,
pointedly.
"We've never had cheating in the Upper Fourth before," put in Vera
Clifford.
"It's only the kind of thing one might expect, though," said Kitty
Harrison. "Some people aren't as particular as we are."
Poor Patty, who was standing near, flushed red with indignation at these
imputations, but did not know how to defend herself. Enid, however, flew
to the rescue.
"Look here!" she cried. "If you've anything you want to say, I wish
you'd say it straight out, instead of these back shots. If you think
Patty was trying to cheat this morning, I can tell you you're much
mistaken."
"Oh! you've taken up Patty Hirst," said Maud, "and of course you say
she's always in the right. I'm afraid it's no use your trying to make
excuses for her."
"I don't want to," declared Enid. "I only want the truth, and Muriel
knows perfectly well that it was mostly her fault."
"I don't know anything about it," said Muriel. "I can't help people
looking over my shoulder."
"Not when you ask them to!"
"I don't know what you mean."
"Copying is called sneaking in boys' schools," said Kitty Harrison.
"And so are other things," said Enid. "Look, girls! what do you think of
this? I saw Muriel pass it to Patty during the exam."
She drew the piece of paper out of her pocket and handed it round for
everybody to see. It was written in Muriel's rather peculiar
handwriting, so there was no possibility of a mistake. There it was in
black and white: "How do you state Question 5? Ought the answer to be in
bales of silk or days?"
It was Muriel's turn now to flush red; she really had not a word to say
for herself, and turned hastily away. Her three friends looked extremely
blank, and Maud Greening murmured something about a mistake.
"Well," exclaimed Cissie Gardiner, "who talked about cheating, I should
like to know?"
"And said it was called sneaking?" said Maggie Woodhall.
"I think some people can be very deceitful," said Winnie Robinson.
"She oughtn't to have been going to show Muriel how to work sums in the
middle of the exam., though," said May Firth.
"She doesn't understand exams.; she never had them at her other
school," explained Enid, "so she didn't really know she oughtn't. Did
you, Patty?"
"Indeed I didn't," declared Patty. "I won't do such a thing another
time."
"Well, there's a vast difference, at any rate, between wanting to help
people and trying to copy their sums," said Winnie.
"I hope you all thoroughly understand the matter now," said Enid.
"If I were Patty I should want that note to be shown to Miss Rowe,"
suggested Cissie Gardiner.
"It's exactly what I'm going to do with it. Give it me back at once!"
cried Enid. "Muriel thoroughly deserves to get into trouble."
"No, Enid, please don't; I beg you won't!" pleaded Patty.
"Why not?"
"Because I don't want you to."
"But why? Miss Rowe ought to hear about it."
"Oh, it really doesn't matter! Now that all of you know I didn't mean to
cheat, I don't care. I hate tell-tales."
"I should care," declared Winnie.
"It's no use getting Muriel into trouble," said Patty.
"It would serve Muriel right," said Enid, indignantly. "Patty, you're a
great deal too good-natured."
"No, I'm not. Please let me have the note, Enid."
"I don't think I will."
"But it's mine. It was written to me, remember."
Enid relinquished the incriminating piece of paper very reluctantly, and
looked on with disfavour while Patty tore it to shreds.
"I'm fond of justice," she said, "and Muriel Pearson has got off too
easily. Patty, I'm not sure if you're not a little too good for this
world! I couldn't have torn that note up myself, and yet on the whole I
like you for it. You're one of the nicest girls I've ever known!" And
throwing her arm affectionately round Patty's waist, she walked with her
along the passage to the classroom.
During an interval in the hockey practice that afternoon, Muriel found
an opportunity to speak to her cousin.
"How stupid you were this morning, Patty!" she said. "What possessed you
to lean over my desk and whisper?"
"What else could I do, when you'd asked me how to work that sum?"
replied Patty.
"Why, of course you should have written me a note back, and handed it to
me underneath the desk."
"But I'm afraid that wouldn't have been fair," objected Patty.
"Quite as fair as whispering."
"I didn't know either was wrong. You shouldn't have asked me."
"Oh, don't begin preaching to me! You contrived to make it very
unpleasant for me, at any rate, and I shan't soon forget."
"Muriel! You know I never meant----"
"I don't care what you meant. Enid Walker has been telling Phyllis
Chambers, and Phyllis won't put my name down for the hockey final. It's
too bad."
"I'm dreadfully sorry."
"What's the use of being sorry? You should have managed better. I'm out
of the match on Friday, and it's entirely your fault. I wish you'd never
come to The Priory at all!" And Muriel walked away with such a sulky
expression on her face, that no one at that moment would have called her
pretty.
Patty knew it was no use trying to justify herself further. Muriel was
determined to be angry, and having secured what she considered a
grievance against her, would make that an excuse for avoiding her
altogether. She could only hope that her cousin would not give a
distorted version of the story in any of her letters home, and allow
Uncle Sidney to believe that she had been unkind. That would indeed be
most unjust, especially as she would have no opportunity of ever
explaining the true facts of the case.
"She surely couldn't!" thought Patty. "It would be too untruthful. I
hope she never mentions me at all when she writes. Oh, dear! How hard it
is when you know you ought to be friends with someone and you can't! If
only Muriel were Enid or Jean, how different it would be! I shouldn't
have a single trouble left in the world, and life at The Priory would be
just delightful."