GOING TO SCHOOL
Notwithstanding all that went before, Christian enjoyed her ten days.
She knew she ought not to feel happy, but nevertheless happiness would
nestle up close to her. She was not troubled; she was calm. She felt
that, naughty as she had been, God had forgiven her. During those ten
days Christian was very gentle in her manners. She had a sensation in
her heart that she could never be naughty again. She was so impressed
by this feeling that, the night before she left for Cornwall, she said
to nurse:
"Nursey, darling, I suppose all things are for the best. I feel that I
am a much wiser girl than I should have been if I had gone to Cornwall
that time when father and mother left."
"What do you mean, lovey?" replied the old nurse.
"Well, you see, I have been quite bad, and I have had great terrors,
and I have lived through the sort of things that open your eyes, and I
see now that I was a selfish girl, and naughty and deceitful, and not a
bit of a heroine; but since I came back I have vowed that I will never
be naughty again, and I don't mean to be."
"To be sure, dear," said nurse gently. "It's all very fine to promise
that to yourself, isn't it, but how do you think you will keep it up?"
"Simply by not yielding to temptation. You know I have a passionate
nature, and I have lived a great deal alone, and I dare say I might
have found it hard to be thrown with other girls and to give up my own
ways. But I am not at all afraid now, for after what I have suffered I
have vowed to be good--very good--all the rest of my life."
"Well then, you have just to bear this in mind," said nurse: "God
Almighty must help you, and desperate hard too, or you will fail. I
prayed for you, my darling, when I didn't know that I'd ever see your
sweet face again, and I'll go on praying for you; and I hope you will
be happy at school, and that you will learn a lot, so that when your
father and mother come back they will be proud of you--as I always am,
my dear, sweet lamb."
Miss Neil came early on the following morning and took Christian to
Paddington; and this time there was no attempt at running away, and no
adventure of any sort, for Miss Neil and Christian had a first-class
carriage to themselves for the greater part of the journey.
They reached Tregellick at six o'clock, when it was quite dark, and
there a brougham was waiting for them; and after driving for about
a mile they found themselves outside the town, in the heart of the
country. They drove on a little farther, and Christian, gazing out
through the darkness, fancied she saw the gleam of white foam caused by
the waves of the Atlantic, and the noise of the sea came loudly, with
an insistent splash, against her ears. This noise moved and delighted
her. She grasped Miss Neil's hand.
"I shall like living here," she said.
Miss Neil replied calmly, "I hope you will, Christian. You quite
understand, my dear, that the school is a strict one, and the first
thing you have to learn is absolute obedience. From what I hear, there
is very little liberty granted to the girls of Penwerne; but for those
who are right-minded there is to be found in your new school a growth
and strength both moral and physical."
"Oh, dear, I do wish she wouldn't speak in that lecturing sort of way!"
thought Christian to herself; but then she remembered her vow that she
would never be cross, even with Miss Neil, again, and she shut her lips
and said nothing more.
By and by the carriage drew up outside some tall iron gates, which were
opened by a neat-looking woman in a white cap. Christian caught sight
of the lodge, with a bright lamp placed in one of the windows, as they
drove swiftly up the long avenue. They stopped before a very long, low
house, with many lights twinkling in many windows, and a deep porch
to the front door. As soon as ever the sound of wheels was heard, a
neat-looking servant flung the door wide open; then she came out and
helped Miss Neil and Christian to get out of the cab.
"Will you have the goodness to tell Miss Peacock that Miss Neil and the
little girl, Christian Mitford, have arrived?" said Miss Neil to the
servant. "And see, please, that Miss Mitford's luggage and my handbag
are brought indoors."
"Yes, madam," said the servant. "Will you walk this way, please?"
She took them into a very wide hall, brightly lighted with electric
light, and with an ingle-nook at the farther end where a great fire of
logs burned on the hearth.
Christian was cold, and a sense of depression, notwithstanding all her
brave efforts, was creeping over her. She looked at Miss Neil, and
thought she had seldom seen a more disagreeable or sterner face.
"I am so thankful," thought the child, "that she is not going to teach
me--that she is not going to stay here. I couldn't be good with her;
that's quite certain. But, all the same, I will keep my vow."
They were shown into a small, cheerful room, which also had a fire
burning. The servant withdrew, saying in a respectful voice as she did
so, "I will tell my mistress, and she will send someone to you."
"Dear me, Christian!" said Miss Neil when the door had closed and they
found themselves alone; "what a particularly pleasant, cheerful sort
of place this seems to be! Not at all my idea of a strict school. My
dear, do hold yourself up; you don't know how that stoop ruins your
appearance. Your parents are very particular about you, and they expect
so much of you that the very least you can do now is to make extra
efforts to be good in the highest sense of the word. Goodness includes
deportment, Christian; perhaps you don't understand that."
"Oh, yes, I do, Miss Neil," said Christian, who was almost biting her
lips to keep her tongue from saying something pert.
"You of course also understand," continued Miss Neil, "that you are
not now arriving at school with any _éclat_. You have been exceedingly
naughty, and I rather fancy your punishment awaits you here. I am not
certain, of course, but I rather fancy that such is the case."
"What do you mean?" said Christian, in alarm.
"My dear, I say nothing further. Time will prove; time will prove. But
it really is most kind of Miss Peacock to have you at all. There were
moments when I feared you would not be received at Penwerne. That fact
would have been a slur upon you all your life. Ah! and here comes----"
The door was thrown open, and a tall, very graceful woman of about
forty years of age entered. Her face was very sweet, but there was no
lack of power in it; on the contrary, it looked strong, steadfast,
self-assured. The eyes were the brightest Christian had ever looked at.
She felt certain, on the spur of the moment, that this woman had known
sorrow--that she had conquered sorrow. Her heart went out to her on the
spot.
Miss Peacock bowed to Miss Neil, and then, taking both Christian's
hands, she drew the young girl towards her and kissed her gravely on
the forehead.
"Welcome," she said.
The one word seemed full both of strength and love. The depression
which had fallen upon Christian vanished on the spot.
"I will be good," she said, and she raised her eyes full of tears and
fixed them on her mistress's face.
"I hope you will. But this is not the time to talk of goodness or of
naughtiness; you are so tired that what you want is rest. Never mind
to-night about being good or bad, clever or ignorant. You must have
your supper and then go to bed. Miss Neil, I am glad to tell you that
I am able to give Christian, for a time at least, a little bedroom to
herself. Susan Sykes as a rule shares the room, but she is ill and not
able to return. Until she does Christian will have the room to herself."
"Oh, I am glad!" said Christian.
"And you ought to be, Christian," said Miss Neil in her tartest voice,
"for you don't deserve indulgences."
"Oh, come!" said Miss Peacock. "We never talk of faults--at least in
this house--except when we are punishing them; and I think Christian
was punished. She begins here with a clean sheet. Now, my dear, I am
going to put you in the charge of Jessie, who is my right-hand and
looks after all the comforts the girls require."
As Miss Peacock spoke she touched the electric bell by the side of the
fireplace, and the same pleasant-looking servant-girl who had shown
them into the house appeared.
"Ask Miss Jessie to step into the hall waiting room," said Miss Peacock.
The servant withdrew, and in a very short time a girlish-looking
person, who might have been one of the schoolgirls herself, entered.
That was Christian's first impression with regard to Miss Jessie Jones,
but when she looked again she began to perceive that Miss Jessie was
not quite so young as she appeared. She was dressed in a peculiar and
old-fashioned way. Her rather skimpily cut skirt reached barely to her
neat ankles, and over it she wore a muslin apron with a bib. The apron
was frilled all round, and daintily finished with bows of pale-blue
ribbon. Miss Jessie's hair was in short ringlets--it was of a soft,
blonde color--her face was pink-and-white, and her eyes blue. Her
little figure was also exceedingly neat. She ran into the room, and
said in a gay voice:
"Well, dear Miss Peacock, here I am."
"I want you, Jessie, to take this young girl--my new pupil, Christian
Mitford--and look after her. You must do everything for her that
she requires; and I should like her to go early to bed. Did you ask
Robinson to light a fire in her room?"
"Certainly, dear Miss Peacock; the room is in perfect order, and there
is a bright fire."
"Well then, good-night, Christian," said Miss Peacock. "I leave you in
safe hands. You will see your friend Miss Neil to-morrow."
"Good-night, Christian," said Miss Neil; "and be thankful for your
mercies."
Christian left the room, accompanied by Miss Jessie. "I am glad you
have come at last," said the latter. "We have been all looking forward
to seeing you. You can scarcely imagine how disappointed we were when
you could not arrive a fortnight ago."
"Oh, please don't speak of it!" said Christian.
"But why not? We were so sorry. Dear Miss Peacock said you were
unavoidably detained. She did not tell us what had happened. She only
said you could not come to school for at least ten days."
"It was sweet of her," said Christian. Then she added impulsively,
"Isn't she the very nicest and best woman in the world?"
"Ah!" said Miss Jessie, with a laugh, "you have fallen in love with
her, as we all do. There never was anybody quite like Lavinia Peacock.
Don't you think her name sweet? Lavinia, like an old-fashioned flower;
and then Peacock--like that gorgeous bird. But nothing could be too
good for her; she is perfect. The girls adore her--they love her almost
too well. Yes, she makes sunshine wherever she goes. Not that it's
all sunshine at Penwerne by any means. But I will tell you about that
presently--not to-night; you look tired. Are you tired? Have you quite
got over whatever detained you?"
"Quite; and please don't speak of it."
"I won't if you don't wish. The mistresses here never do anything to
worry the girls; we never nag, if you understand what that means."
"And are you a mistress?"
A sad look came into the sweet face of little Miss Jessie.
"No; I am not exactly one of the mistresses," she said. "I don't
exactly know what I am, except that my province in the school is to
spread happiness. That is what dear Lavinia wishes. 'Make them happy,
Jessie, and you'll do all that I require,' she says. I generally get a
new girl for the first night--perhaps longer. She trusts me. You see, I
am not at all a frightening sort of person."
"I shouldn't think you were," said Christian.
"You look a very nice girl, dear--nice-looking, I mean--rather
distinguished. Lavinia wouldn't like me to say anything of that kind,
so I oughtn't to; but you really do. Now then, will you come in to the
refectory, or will you have something brought up to your own room?"
"Oh, something in my room, please, if it isn't too much trouble," said
Christian.
"Trouble, dear? Whenever did Jessie find anything a trouble? It is
her business to do this sort of thing if it adds to the happiness of
anyone. We will go straight upstairs, then; you won't want to see any
of your companions to-night?"
"I think not."
Miss Jessie paused. It seemed to Christian as they were walking up the
low, softly carpeted stairs, and down first one long corridor and then
another, that there was a murmuring sound as though of bees. She could
not make out if it was caused by the Atlantic or by voices.
"They are anxious to see you. They begged and implored of me; but you
shall have your way."
"I would much rather not see anybody but you until to-morrow."
"You dear child, you shan't be crossed. But just one moment."
Miss Jessie paused outside a door. The sound of bees was now
unmistakably changed for the sound of voices.
"No, darlings, not to-night; she is tired. Don't ask it, pets. You
never cross Jessie, do you? That's all right, loves."
The door was shut again, and she took Christian's hand.
"They are dear girls, although we have one or two black sheep. Of
course I must not name them. We are all trying--we who belong, I hope,
to the white sheep--to turn them from the error of their ways. Now
then, here is your room."
The door was opened, and Christian found herself in a dainty chamber
lined with white enameled wood. The wood went right up to the ceiling,
and across it; and in the ceiling itself were two bright eyes, caused
by electric light. Miss Jessie showed the young girl how she could
turn it on and off. In a pretty grate lined with pink tiles a bright
fire was blazing. There were two beds at the farther end, one covered
with a pretty Liberty coverlet and unmade, and the other with a snowy
white sheet turned down. The look of the little bed was most inviting.
There were white dimity curtains to the windows. The white effect of
everything, with the pink tiles, the blazing fire, and the crimson felt
on the floor, made Christian feel that she had never been in so sweet a
chamber before.
"You will be happy here, I know," said Miss Jessie. "We are all
intensely happy at Penwerne. Who could help it who was under the
guardianship of Lavinia Peacock?"
When Miss Jessie had seen that Christian had all she required, even
to a can of nice hot water, she kissed her and went away. Christian
thought that she would not see her again that night. She felt
contented, soothed, and happy. How silly she had been to dread this
charming school, this life so full of interest! As she thought of Miss
Peacock, and remembered the look on her face, she felt her heart glow
already with love for her new mistress. Then how sweet and kind dear
Miss Jessie was!
As she ate her supper, and unlocked her trunk and took out just what
was necessary for the night's requirements, she thought again of Miss
Peacock's great kindness in not speaking to the school of what had
really happened.
"She said I was unavoidably detained," thought the child. "She shielded
me. There are very few who would do that. I love her already. If I am
not good after so much kindness, I shall be the very worst girl in the
world."
Christian said her prayers--quite earnest ones, in which she implored
of God to help her--and then she got into bed. She was just getting
warm between the cozy sheets, when the door was softly opened and
little Miss Jessie peeped in.
"Ah! you are in bed," she said; "that's right. I have only come to
fetch the tray. Your fire will burn for some hours. It is so cold just
at present that we will have it lit before you get up in the morning.
That is a special indulgence which will only be granted to you just for
to-morrow. To-morrow will be a complete holiday for you. I thought you
might like to know. You will be able to unpack and get everything into
apple-pie order. Then you will make the acquaintance of the girls, and
get to know the ways of the school. You will probably have some lessons
to prepare for the next day, but only if you are quite well enough to
undertake them. Miss Peacock said I was to be very careful about you. I
suppose that is on account of your illness that kept you from school."
As Miss Jessie said the last words Christian suddenly sat up in bed.
"I wasn't kept away from school by illness," she said in a choking
voice.
"Well, never mind, dear; it doesn't matter what it was. Our dear
head-mistress knows."
"Miss Jessie," said Christian, "I don't know what your other name is."
"I am never called by it, dearest. My other name is Jones; quite a
common name, isn't it? But I am always known here as Jessie, or Miss
Jessie. Lie down now and go to sleep."
"I can't until I tell you something. I must tell you."
"Well, love, if it relieves your mind; but really and truly I would
much rather----"
In the firelight little Miss Jessie's face looked quite troubled; she
took both of Christian's hands.
"You are excited," she said. "You have traveled far; the effects of
your illness are still perceptible."
"Oh, I wasn't ill! It is about that I want to speak to you. You at
least must know the truth."
"Oh, but I never know things of that sort," said Miss Jessie in an
alarmed voice. "Dear Lavinia Peacock would be distressed. I beg of you,
my child. Oh, what is it? Actually the dear child is crying. Well, of
course, Christian, if it relieves your mind, dear----"
"It does--it does!" said Christian. "I couldn't sleep to-night if you
didn't know it. It wasn't illness."
"My dear, dear child."
"It was naughtiness."
"Children are often naughty," said Miss Jessie.
"But not like my naughtiness. It was big--it was worse; it was
wickedness. I ran away."
"You did what, dear?" said Miss Jessie; and now she backed from
Christian and looked at her with her round, rosy, good-natured face
paling with horror.
She said afterwards to herself, "I was glad there was only firelight,
and that I was standing with my back to it, for the poor child would
have seen how horrified I felt."
"Yes," said Christian, "I ran away that day a fortnight back when you
were expecting me. I went to the station with Miss Neil. I left her and
went away with another little girl. We had planned it all out together.
We went to an awful place in the slums for the night. Oh, it was
fearful--fearful! We nearly died from fright. We were well punished.
The next day we got home, but it was a terrible adventure, and it
nearly killed us both. It was not illness; it was what I have said."
Miss Jessie had now recovered her ordinary composure.
"My dear," she said, "I am glad and sorry you have told me. You may
be quite sure that I shall never repeat it to anyone. There is just
one thing, Christian: you must not on any account--on any account
whatever--breathe this story in the school. It would not be understood,
dear. It would make your position unfortunate. I cannot explain
matters. Our code of honor is very high, and we like all our girls to
have a clean record--never to do what is daring and downright wicked.
Ah, yes, Christian, we repent, but somehow the flavor of the sin
remains. Ah, Christian, I will tell you a story of another little girl
some day--not to-night. Good-night, now. It was brave of you to tell,
and I will speak to Lavinia about it; but whatever happens, this must
on no account be known in the school."
Miss Jessie tripped softly away, and Christian, soothed by the light
of the fire, by the knowledge that she had unburdened herself, by the
resolve that, come what would, she would do the very best that was
possible for a girl to do in the future, dropped asleep.