CHAPTER XVII_The Head Girl at the Gables

A Mid-term Beano

Though Lorraine and Claudia might regard Madame Bertier with more or

less suspicion, she was an immense favourite with the rest of the

school. The Misses Kingsley found the vivacious little Russian lady one

of the best teachers they had ever had, and treasured her accordingly,

while most of the girls still revolved round her orbit. She was

undoubtedly very clever and fascinating. There is a certain type of

pretty woman who can be adorable to her own sex. Madame liked

admiration, if it were only that of a schoolgirl, and she thought the

flowers and little notes that were showered upon her charming tokens of

her popularity.

"They practise their hearts upon me, these poor children!" she would

observe sentimentally. "The little love letters! Ah, they are _tout à

fait gentilles_! Wait a few years! They will be writing them to somebody

more interesting than their teacher! Oh, yes! I know well!"

"For goodness' sake don't put such ideas into their heads!" said Miss

Janet, who admired the open-air type of girl, and had no weakness for

romance. "I wish you wouldn't encourage them to write you those silly

notes. It's a form of sentiment I've no patience with at all--a mere

waste of time and paper!"

Madame shrugged her shoulders eloquently.

"What will you? We all have our own methods! As for me, I win their

funny little hearts, then they will work at their lessons for love--yes,

for sheer love. In but a few months they have made _beaucoup de progrès!

N'est-ce pas?_ Ah, it is my theory that we must love first, if we will

learn."

Though Miss Janet might sniff at Madame's sentimental method of

education, she nevertheless could not deny its admirable results. In

French and music the school had lately made enormous strides. The elder

girls had begun to read French story-books for amusement, and the

juniors had learnt to play some French games, which they repeated with a

pretty accent. Both violin and piano students played with a fire and

spirit that had been conspicuous by their absence a year ago, under the

tame instruction of Miss Parlane.

Madame did not confine herself entirely to her own subjects. She took an

interest in all the activities of the school. It was she who arranged a

ramble on the cliffs.

"They get so hot, playing _toujours_ at the cricket," she said to Miss

Kingsley. "Of what use is it to hit about a ball? Let them come with me

for a promenade upon the hills and we shall get flowers to press for the

_musée_. It is not well to do always the same thing."

A ramble for the purpose of gathering wild-flowers was a suggestion

that appealed to the Sixth. The museum was not too well furnished with

specimens. There was scope for any amount of further collecting.

Since the curious episode of the cut telephone wires during the Easter

holidays, there had been no further happenings at the museum. Miss

Kingsley inclined to Madame Bertier's view, that some spy, finding the

window had been left open, had taken a ladder and forced an entrance

that way. She had caused a screw to be placed in the window, and the

door was kept carefully locked except when the room was in use.

To Lorraine the place felt haunted. She had a horror of being there

alone, and never ventured to go there unless accompanied by two or three

of her schoolfellows. She had an unreasonable idea that the little

trap-door in the corner might suddenly open, and a sinister face peer

down out of the darkness. The nervous impression was so strong that she

held the monitresses' meetings in the class-room instead of in the

museum. When the mid-term beano came round, she suggested that they

should assemble in the summer-house.

It had been an old-established custom at the school that once in each

term the seniors should hold a kind of bean-feast. They met to read

aloud papers, and suck sweets. Their doings were kept a dead secret from

the juniors, who naturally were exceedingly curious, and made every

effort to overhear the proceedings. On this occasion the seniors took

elaborate precautions against intrusion from the lower school. Two

monitresses stood in the cloak-room and sternly chivvied the younger

girls to hasten their steps homewards. They went unwillingly and

suspiciously.

"Why are you in such a precious hurry to get rid of us to-day?" asked

Mona Parker, pertly. "You're not generally so keen on us going off

early."

"There's been too much loitering about the cloak-room lately,"

vouchsafed Dorothy.

"Bow-wow! How conscientious we are, all of a sudden! You've something up

your sleeve, I think, Madam Dorothy!"

"Mona Parker, put on your boots at once, and don't cheek your betters!"

"But there _is_ something going on, I'm sure!" piped up Josie Payne.

"Nellie, be a sport and tell us!"

"Mind your own business, and don't butt in where you're not wanted! How

long _are_ you going to be in lacing those shoes?"

"There, there! Don't get ratty! I'm ready now!"

The dilatory juniors, by dint of much urging, were at last hustled off

the scenes. The ringleaders among them departed in rebellious spirits,

which fizzed over in the playground into a series of aggressive

cock-a-doodle-doos, significant of their attitude of annoyance.

The monitresses wisely took no notice. They were too glad to be rid of

the younger element to follow into the playground and do battle. Having

cleared the premises, they passed the signal "all serene!" and repaired

to the summer-house. It was a good place for a secret meeting, for it

was at the bottom of the garden, facing the main path and a patch of

lawn, so that it would be quite impossible for anybody to come from the

house or the gymnasium without being seen. The accommodation was

limited, but some of the girls sat on the floor, and some on the gravel

in front. It had been a matter of considerable difficulty to procure

sweets, and every likely shop in the town had been foraged. The result,

though not very great, was quite wonderful for war-time: there was

actually some chocolate, some walnut toffee, two ounces of pear drops,

and some gum lozenges. The contributions were pooled, and shared round

impartially.

The members were sucking blissfully while Lorraine went round and

collected the literary portion of the entertainment.

"Only eight papers to-day! You slackers! Audrey, where's yours? Haven't

had time to think of anything? How weak! Doreen, I expected the Fifth to

do its duty. Thanks, Phoebe, I'm glad you've written something, and

you too, Beryl."

"Please keep mine till the _very_ last, and don't read it at all if

there isn't much time!" implored Phoebe.

"You mustn't read mine first!" fluttered Dorothy.

"Nor mine!"

"Look here! Somebody has got to come first! I shall do it by lot; I'll

write your names on slips of paper and shuffle them. Lend me a pencil,

Patsie. There! I'll stir them round, and Audrey shall draw one."

Audrey picked out at random one of the little twisted scraps of paper,

and the lot fell upon the protesting Dorothy. She rose apologetically.

"They're not much," she murmured. "Just a few 'Ruthless Rhymes', that's

all.

Anna Maria

Fell into the fire,

She was burnt to a cinder.

Pa said: 'Let's open winder!'

In a river in the city

Jack was drowned

And never found.

Mother said it was a pity

His new boots went down with him.

They'd have fitted Brother Jim.

A bomb dropped on to the house and blew

Beds, tables and chairs to Timbuctoo.

'Dear, dear how annoying!' murmured Aunt May,

'We'd spring-cleaned the place only yesterday!'

Poor little Johnnie, he swallowed his rattle,

It stuck in his throat and he gave up life's battle;

They couldn't get Johnnie to 'ope eyes and peep'

But they shook up the rattle and sold it off cheap."

The next on the list was Lorraine's own contribution.

DIARY OF A GIRL IN THE YEAR A.D. 4000

To-day I used my new air wings, and flew up the Thames valley

to see the remains of ancient London, recently excavated. It is

an extraordinary sight, and certainly seems to throw some light

upon the manners and customs of that quaint old nation, the

English of two thousand years ago. In the museum are some weird

specimens of public conveyances, notably a thing called a

"tramcar" in which all sorts and conditions of people sat

squeezed up side by side, and were whirled along the street,

instead of the street moving as it does now, to convey

passengers without any trouble. There were also machines called

bicycles, consisting of two wheels and a saddle. The curator

says they were much used in olden times, though how people

balanced on them, goodness knows! Not half so convenient as our

modern wings! Another interesting exhibit was a collection of

clothing of the nineteenth and twentieth centuries; coats,

cloaks and dresses actually made of such rare materials as

cloth, silk, cotton and velvet. It makes one gasp. How beautiful

they must have looked--but oh! how insanitary! How different to

our modern pulp clothing that is burnt (by law) every week. I am

told some of the things used to be sent to a place called a

laundry, and washed all together. No wonder germs were spread in

those days! It is a marvel they did not all die off from

infectious diseases. There were also some fine specimens of

dishes upon which food used to be served, interesting as

survivals of an old custom, but amazing to us, who live on

concentrated tabloids. The time those ancients wasted over meals

must have been stupendous! Some old school books also made me

smile. Oh, the poor children of those days! Fancy them sitting

at desks and trying their eyes over that wretched small print.

Now, when all the teaching is by cinema and gramophone, we

realize what a purgatory education must have been in the past. I

am very thankful to be living in A.D. 4000, with all our modern

advantages. Think of having to go by sea to visit your friends

in America, when to-day we simply get out the balloon and whisk

over to pay a call. My new electric shoes have just come, and I

expect will be a tremendous aid to my dancing. I shall wear them

at my birthday-party. By the by, I must send a wireless to

Connie, to ask if she means to come to my party. She mentioned

yesterday that she was flying to China, but perhaps she will be

back in time. Dad has promised me a new best glass-sided diving

boat for a present, so I hope to do a little ocean exploring

this summer. I hear the scenery at the bottom of the Pacific is

most beautiful--far finer than the Atlantic, which everybody

knows now. Well, I must go and start my gramophone, or I shan't

know my Japanese lesson for to-morrow. Professor Okuto is the

limit if one slacks. Good-bye, dear little diary. I'll type some