The Old Oak Cupboard
There yet remained the form trophy to be competed for, winners only in
the previous events being eligible as candidates. To ensure equal
chances for all, the test was to be a handicap race, age and height
being taken into consideration. The judges carefully placed the
competitors, tall Rose Randall getting little advantage over Dorrie
Vernon, though she was two years younger, and Jess Howard being in a
line with Dona Matthews. Githa had been given her starting-point, and
was standing in readiness for the signal, when she noticed her uncle and
aunt arriving upon the scene. How late they were! They had missed almost
the entire programme. Who was that stranger in khaki whom they had
brought with them? They were introducing him to Mrs. Franklin, who was
shaking hands, and finding seats for all three. Some friend of Uncle
Wilfred's, she supposed--but here her reflections were brought to an
abrupt close, for Miss Andrews gave the signal, and the race began.
Owing to the handicaps it was a closely matched affair; all were on
their mettle, and exerted themselves to the uttermost. At first Dona
seemed to be making the best progress, but Dorrie and Ellaline were
coming up fast from behind, and passed her. Githa ran steadily until
the two Sixth Form girls were in a line with her; then with a sudden
spurt, of which she had hardly believed herself capable, she sprang
forward, kept her advantage, and a whole yard in front of them touched
the ribbon. The Fourth rent the air with their cheers. The trophy was by
far the most important event of the afternoon, and the girl who had
secured it for her form was the heroine of the moment. Too much out of
breath for speech, but conscious of her honours, Githa walked back to
receive the congratulations of her comrades. Two medals and the trophy!
She could scarcely believe her good fortune.
Mrs. Boswell, with smiling face, had turned to the prize-table, and Miss
Andrews was marshalling the winners in the order of their events.
"The poor old Toadstool looks quite pretty for once," said Jill Barton,
as Githa, with shining eyes, and cheeks flushed with unwonted colour,
received her two medals and the charming little clock which would
henceforth adorn the mantelpiece of the Fourth Form room.
"When she's through her ugly duckling stage, I believe she'll turn out
rather handsome," agreed Ivy Parkins. "I always said she had good
features, only she looked so drab and depressed. Her expression has
changed lately, and it makes an immense difference. She doesn't scowl
like she used to do."
It was indeed such a bright, beaming, animated girl who expressed her
thanks to Mrs. Boswell, the donor of the clock, that Mrs. Ledbury looked
quite amazed. She beckoned her niece to her side.
[Illustration: "'THIS CONCERNS US VERY MUCH, GITHA. IT'S YOUR
GRANDFATHER'S LAST WILL'"]
"Come here, Githa! I'm glad to see you do so well. I want you to speak
to this gentleman" (indicating the khaki-clad officer). "Do you know who
he is? I thought not! Well, it's a surprise for us all."
But as Githa looked up into the kindly face turned smilingly down to
greet her, old wellnigh forgotten scenes of early childhood came rushing
back, and with a swift flash, half of intuition, half of memory, she
divined the truth.
"You're my Uncle Frank!" she exclaimed.
* * * * *
Later on in the afternoon, when tea was over, and the visitors were
dispersed about the garden, Githa took her new uncle for a walk in the
orchard. She did not feel in the least shy with him, and clung to his
arm, stroking the khaki sleeve--a caress she would never have dreamed of
venturing with Mr. Wilfred Ledbury.
"I got your letter all right--that's what brought me," confided Uncle
Frank. "I never meant to show my face in Heathwell again, but if you
children want me, that's a different matter. So you think you'd like to
live with me, you young witch? Well, wait till the war's over, and we'll
see what can be managed. Your brother tried to run away, did he? The
rascal! I'm glad he's ready to serve his country--the navy will be the
making of him. I must have a look at the Grange, for old sake's sake.
Now tell me about your little self and your doings."
Then somehow Githa began pouring out the whole story of the last few
weeks' happenings, including the finding of the movable panel at the
Grange, and ending with Bob Gartley's confession on the preceding
afternoon. Her uncle listened attentively.
"I should like to see this oak cupboard," he remarked. "You say it
belongs to your friend Katrine, the sister of Marsden whom I met in
hospital? Would she show it to us now?"
"I'm sure she would. I'll go and fetch her. Please wait for me here."
Githa returned in a few minutes with both Katrine and Gwethyn. They were
anxious to make Captain Ledbury's acquaintance and to ask for news of
their brother Hereward. The account of his progress was satisfactory.
"He'll have joined his regiment again by now, I expect, lucky chap! He
wasn't on the 'serious' list, so had no need to be invalided home. Oh,
he's in the best of spirits! He kept us all alive in the ward with his
jokes. Never met such a fellow for making puns!"
"Just like Hereward!" exclaimed the sisters proudly.
Katrine led the way to the studio, and did the honours of the little
spice cupboard.
"I didn't know when I bought it that it came originally from the
Grange," she explained. "It had changed hands twice before I got
possession of it."
"Githa and I spent half an hour or more over it yesterday, but we
couldn't find any secret place," added Gwethyn.
Captain Ledbury had stooped down, and was making a careful examination.
He pulled out all the small drawers, and felt carefully behind them.
"I dare say it's twenty years or more since my father showed me how this
works. I've almost forgotten the trick. Which side was it, now? Right or
left? Why, of course, I remember! You push both together. It's rather
stiff. Right-o! It's moving. Oh, good biz!"
A thin panel of wood forming the back of the recess had slid aside,
revealing a small door with a keyhole. It refused to open, and was
evidently securely locked.
"With your permission, Miss Marsden, we shall have to do a little
burgling," remarked Captain Ledbury. "Perhaps my penknife will serve as
a 'jemmy'."
"Oh no, Uncle Frank!" cried Githa. "Don't force it! Wait half a moment.
I've got it here in my pocket. Look! Try this--the key that I found
inside the panel at the Grange. I've kept it most carefully, in case I
should ever find what it belonged to."
"I believe you've solved the problem!" murmured her uncle.
All watched eagerly as Captain Ledbury made trial of the little key. It
fitted exactly. The rusty lock creaked as it turned, and the door flew
open.
The space revealed was very narrow; there was only just room for a fat
envelope that was wedged inside. Uncle Frank tore the letter open with
impatient fingers. It contained a pile of bank-notes and a sheet of
writing-paper. He studied the latter attentively for a moment or two.
Then he turned to his niece.
"This concerns us very much, Githa. It's your grandfather's last will,
duly witnessed, and apparently in good order. You and Cedric and myself
benefit considerably. It's a lucky day for the three of us. I shall keep
this packet, and place it at once in the hands of the solicitor who is
named as executor."
"So Grandfather hadn't forgotten us, after all!"
"Not a bit of it. You'll come in for a very nice little fortune some
day, young lady! This is better than winning clocks and medals!"
"I never won anything in my life before. The key has proved my mascot
this afternoon."
"When one's luck turns, it often comes with a rush," chuckled Uncle
Frank.
"Bob Gartley really told the truth for once in his life. He'll deserve
the five pounds I promised him."
"He shall have it, though I'm afraid the scoundrel will only squander it
at the 'Dragon'. Perhaps we can think of some way of helping the wife
and children. I wish I could persuade him to enlist--the discipline of
the army is just what he needs. I remember him very well when he was a
lad, and he had the elements of good stuff in him then. Pity it's all
run to waste. One never knows; after this illness a completely fresh
start in life might make a new man of him. It's wonderful what serving
their country has done for some of our fellows; in their case the war
has been a blessing in disguise."
"Oh, it would be glorious if he'd go for a soldier!" agreed Githa.
"Perhaps he will if you talk to him, and tell him about what's going on
at the front."
"What a good thing it is to be extravagant sometimes!" exclaimed
Katrine. "I'm so glad I bought that cupboard from Mrs. Stubbs. If she'd
sold it to a dealer in London, the secret might never have been
discovered."
"It's certainly the best bargain you could have made," agreed Captain
Ledbury.
* * * * *
Monday morning saw the bringing out of thirty-six travelling trunks, and
a corresponding number of damsels busy with the joyful employment of
packing to go home. Rules had vanished to the four winds, and the girls
flitted in and out of one another's dormitories, and talked to their
hearts' content.
"Father and Mother will be home in ten days!" proclaimed Gwethyn
jubilantly, sitting on Rose Randall's bed amidst a litter of underlinen.
"We're to go and stay with Aunt Norah until they come. Mother won't
bring me the cockatoo--she says they're so noisy, and such a nuisance on
board ship; but she's got another surprise for me, only it's not alive.
Well, never mind! Perhaps Tony wouldn't have liked a cockatoo. He'd be
frightfully jealous if I set up another pet, the poor darling!"
"We're going to Windermere for our holidays," said Rose, wrapping up
boots and stowing them inside her box. "We're to stay at a house close
to the lake, and I mean to learn to row."
"We shall be off to our country cottage in North Wales," announced
Beatrix Bates.
"And Bert and I have an invitation to Scotland," exulted Dona Matthews.
"Girls!" cried Jill Barton, bursting suddenly into the room; "I've a
piece of news to tell you. Oh, such news! You'd never guess!"
"Well, fire away!"
"Someone's engaged!"
"Engaged for what?"
"Engaged to be married, of course! What sillies you are! Can't you
guess? Well, it's Miss Aubrey!"
"Never!"
"'To-who? To-who?' cried the owl!"
"To Mr. Freeman."
"Oh, I say! Hold me up!"
"Not really?"
"Mr. Freeman! Why, he's ever so old!"
"Not so very," interrupted Gwethyn, taking up the cudgels for her artist
friend. "He's only rather grey, and, of course, Miss Aubrey isn't very
young herself--though she's a dear. I'm immensely glad!"
"Why, so are we all! I hope she'll have the wedding during term-time, so
that we can go and see her married. Wouldn't we cheer her, and throw
rice and old slippers, just?"
"I don't fancy anything's fixed yet; the engagement is only just
announced."
"It will be Mrs. Franklin's turn next, perhaps!"
"No, no! Surely Ermengarde wouldn't permit it!"
"Besides, what would become of the school?"
"Joking apart, we shall miss Miss Aubrey dreadfully."
Gwethyn, who rushed to impart the interesting news to her sister, found
Katrine kneeling on the floor of their bedroom, packing canvases.
"It will be our gain," was the latter's comment, "because I suppose Miss
Aubrey will come to live at Hartfield when she's married to Mr. Freeman.
How lovely to have her so near! I shall often run in and have talks with
her. It's something to look forward to. Gwethyn, I've decided to give my
picture of the old spice cupboard as a good-bye present to Githa. I
believe she'd like to have it."
Katrine looked with a sigh at her portraits of Granny Blundell and
little Hugh Gartley. The ambitious hope which she had cherished in
connection with them had fallen to the ground. She had shown the
painting to Mr. Freeman, but he had not encouraged her to submit it to
the hanging committee of any Art Gallery.
"Your work is still too crude and immature for exhibition, child," he
had said, kindly but truthfully. "You need to go and study, and learn
many things. Persevere, and keep pegging away, and you'll do well in
course of time, I dare say. Art needs an apprenticeship as much as
anything else. The old masters themselves began as pupils in the
workshops of others."
Leaving her would-be masterpiece out of the question, Katrine had quite
a nice little collection of sketches to take home with her. She had made
distinct progress during her stay at Aireyholme, and she knew that her
father and mother would be pleased with the result of her work. She
looked forward also to showing one or two of her best landscapes to the
head master of the Hartfield School of Art when she should begin her
autumn course there.
"I'm sure I've really finished with ordinary school for good now," she
soliloquized, taking the box of hairpins (which she had brought from
home) out of the dressing-table drawer, and trying the effect of coiling
up her long pigtail. "I've grown half an inch since I came to
Aireyholme, so if I'm not grown up now, I ought to be."
"Well, you can't have a coming-out dance till the war's over, for
there'd be no partners," laughed Gwethyn. "You must possess your soul in
patience, and wait till Hereward and his friends come back."
"May that be soon!"
"It's been a ripping three months," continued Gwethyn. "I've enjoyed
myself immensely here. I never dreamt I should, and yet it's really
almost been the time of my life. I don't want to go back to Hartfield
High School. I'm going to ask Mother to let me stay on at Aireyholme
instead."
"Yes," agreed Katrine slowly. "It's been better than I expected--the
lovely country, the village, the sketching, Miss Aubrey, the Grange, the
discovery inside the old oak cupboard, all have combined together to
make it--what shall I call it?"
"THE JOLLIEST TERM ON RECORD!" pronounced Gwethyn emphatically.
PRINTED IN GREAT BRITAIN
_By Blackie & Son, Limited, Glasgow_
Transcriber's Note:
Spelling and hyphenation have been retained as in the original
publication except as follows:
Page 57
A char-a-banc with three _changed to_
A char-a-banc with three
Page 113
The Grange is out of bonds _changed to_
The Grange is out of bounds
Page 252
farm, emerging in an incredibly _changed to_
farm-house, emerging in an incredibly
End of Project Gutenberg's The Jolliest Term on Record, by Angela Brazil