A STORMY DAY
'Alack-a-day, what tears we mingle!
For trouble ne'er, I wot, came single.'
Though Gorswen was the most quiet little country spot you could find, it
lay only four miles away from Warford, a rising inland watering-place,
which boasted not only a Mayor and Corporation, but a pump-room and
concert-hall, and had a large and fleeting population of visitors, and,
to judge by its growing suburbs, an ever-increasing number of residents.
Lilian and Peggy attended the Warford High School, and Bobby the Grammar
School. It was not quite what Father would have wished for them, for he
had been a Rugby boy himself, but it was the best he could afford; and
certainly the education was excellent, though the pupils were decidedly
mixed. Still, as Aunt Helen said, 'You have no need to copy the manners
of the children you meet. You have been taught at home to behave like
gentlepeople, so please to remember you are Vaughans, and keep up the
credit of the family.'
Every morning at eight o'clock the little governess-car and Pixie, the
steady black pony, stood ready at the side gate, and the trio jogged off
to school with their lesson-books and their luncheons in their
satchels. David could not be spared to go with them, but all the
children had been taught to drive, and even Bobby had a firm hand on the
reins, and knew the rules of the road as well as many a more experienced
coachman; and I think, too, that Pixie had a sense of her
responsibilities, and could be trusted not to get the wheel locked with
a passing waggon, or to race too furiously down a steep hill, whatever
feats her drivers might urge her to perform. The pony and trap were put
up for the day at a quiet little inn midway between the two schools, and
were always waiting for the children by a quarter past four, when, like
the traditional donkey, they joyfully turned their noses towards home
again.
On one special Monday morning in May Peggy got out of bed in that
peculiar frame of mind which Father charitably called 'highly strung,'
and Nancy broadly defined as 'having black dog on your back.' To begin
with, it was wet. Not that Peggy minded rain in the least, but if it
were fine Mr. Vaughan had intended to go over to a great cattle fair
which was to be held that day at Shrewsbury, and had promised to bring
her home a guinea-pig. 'And now he won't go,' she thought dismally, 'and
I shan't have the chance of another until Warford Agricultural Show in
the autumn.'
Peggy hated Monday mornings. After the delightful freedom of Saturday
and Sunday at home it was always doubly hard to return to school, and
the time until next Friday afternoon seemed an endless prospect. All the
nastiest lessons, Peggy thought, came on Mondays--grammar and
arithmetic, dates and French verbs, and all those horrid fussy things
which take a great deal of learning without being specially interesting
in themselves.
On this particular morning the children were late for school, for Pixie
had cast a shoe upon the road, and Lilian had been obliged to drive so
slowly that the church clock was chiming a quarter past nine as Peggy
opened her classroom door.
It is rather an ordeal to walk late into a schoolroom full of thirty
girls, and the slightly nervous feeling had the unfortunate effect of
making Peggy march in with a don't-care look on her face, and shut the
door with a bang.
Miss Crossland glared at her through her eyeglasses.
'If you are so careless as to be late, Margaret Vaughan,' she remarked,
'the least you can do is to come in quietly without disturbing the
class.'
Rather crestfallen, Peggy threaded her way to her place, and took out
her arithmetic books.
'Which sum are you doing?' she whispered to her desk-mate, Emily
Thompson; but Emily judiciously pretended not to hear, for she did not
wish to waste valuable time in giving Peggy information. She was rather
a pretty girl. Her light flaxen hair and pale, fair complexion gave her
a smooth, shining appearance, and somehow Peggy always thought her
manners were smooth and shining too, for she had a way of wriggling out
of any little difficulty and unpleasantness, so that the blame rested
upon other people, and was always ready to take a mean advantage, or
play some of those little underhand tricks which schoolgirls know only
too well.
Peggy's frank, downright nature held Emily in much contempt, and, as she
made no effort to conceal her opinion, the dislike was mutual, and a
kind of undeclared war existed between the two. It was unfortunate for
Peggy that the third form classroom was furnished with double desks, for
as Miss Crossland would permit no changing of places, she was obliged
to sit by her enemy for the rest of the term, to their equal discomfort
and annoyance.
The lesson dragged on wearily for awhile, till they were disturbed by a
tap at the door, and a small girl from one of the lower classes entered,
full of importance at her errand.
'If you please, Miss Crossland,' she piped, 'Miss Martin would like to
speak to you for a moment in the library.'
Miss Crossland looked annoyed; she disliked being interrupted in her
classes, but the head-mistress's request could not be disobeyed.
'Very well, Gertrude,' she replied coldly; then, turning to her class:
'Girls, I must leave you for a few minutes. I trust you to continue your
arithmetic in silence during my absence. Not a word must be spoken while
I am out of the room.'
For so long indeed as her footsteps echoed in the passage her pupils
obeyed her order, but the moment she might reasonably be believed to be
out of earshot a low murmur began among the little heads bent so
discreetly over the arithmetic books. No one attempted to do any work;
sweets and apples appeared mysteriously from within desks, and
surreptitious bites were offered to appreciative neighbours. One daring
spirit even mounted the platform, and waved the pointer in supposed
imitation of Miss Crossland's majestic style.
'What made you so late, Peggy?' asked Nora Pemberton in the intervals of
ecstatic delight over a white mouse, hidden away in a desk-mate's
lunchbox.
'Couldn't help it,' replied Peggy, with her mouth full of chocolate.
'Pixie lost a shoe, and we thought she would go lame, so we almost
crawled along; and when we got her in, we had to tell them to be sure
and have her shod by four o'clock, and of course it all takes time.'
'I wish I drove to school every day,' said Sissie Wilson, a delicate
looking girl who lived in the heart of the town.
'You wouldn't like it when it was wet,' said Peggy. 'And if it's frosty
one's hands get just numb holding the reins, though it's jolly enough in
summer. We have to start ever so early, too, to be here by nine.'
'Well, I only wish I had the chance,' grumbled the envious Sissie; but
she was interrupted by a warning 'Hush! Miss Crossland!'
In a moment thirty hair-ribbons were bent over thirty desks, and thirty
demure young ladies were adding up figures with the utmost care and
attention.
Miss Crossland looked at them suspiciously; perhaps ten years of
teaching had caused her to mistrust such amazing diligence.
'Has any girl spoken during my absence?' she inquired sharply.
No one replied. Peggy's face flushed, and her conscience gave her a
sharp twinge. A Vaughan must never have anything to do with the least
little bit of an untruth, so she stood bravely up in her place.
'I spoke, Miss Crossland,' she admitted.
'And I too,' said Nora Pemberton.
Nobody else followed Peggy's example. Sissie Wilson bit the end of her
pencil in abstruse calculation, Emily Thompson was deep in the pages of
her arithmetic, while most of the girls were adding up columns as if for
dear life.
Miss Crossland looked grave.
'Very well, Margaret and Nora,' she said, 'I must give you each a
bad-conduct mark, and shall expect you both to stay after four o'clock
this afternoon.'
The tears rose to Peggy's eyes at the injustice.
'What a mean set they are!' she said to herself. 'I'm sure Miss
Crossland might have known they had been talking too; but she is always
down upon me.'
She opened her desk, and searched for a fresh pencil to hide her
tell-tale face, and somehow (she really did not mean it, but perhaps her
tears blinded her) the desk-lid slid from her fingers, and fell down
with an awful crash, which rang through the whole room.
'Take another bad-conduct mark, Margaret Vaughan,' said the calm voice
of Miss Crossland. 'You must learn not to show temper when you are
reproved.'
Poor Peggy groaned. Every bad-conduct mark meant six sums to be worked
out when school was over. She and Lilian had been very anxious to get
home early that afternoon, for they had meant to sow seeds in the
garden; and Father was always angry if they kept Bobby waiting, for he
did not like him to be loitering about the inn-yard listening to the
talk of the stable-boys.
But Miss Crossland was writing a problem upon the blackboard in compound
proportion. 'If a hen and a half lay an egg and a half in a day and a
half, how many eggs can four hens lay in six days?'
'What a stupid sum!' thought Peggy. 'How could there be a hen and a
half? I don't know the least how to state it. Is the answer to come out
in hens or eggs or days?'
She put down a few random figures, then her thoughts wandered off to the
brown speckled hen at home, and she wondered if the little chicks would
hatch out to-day, and whether Nancy would remember to go and see, and
put the dear fluffy yellow things in a basket before the kitchen fire.
'Your answer, Margaret?' said Miss Crossland. But Peggy's mind was so
far away in the Abbey barn that she did not at once hear her.
Perhaps Emily Thompson really wished to recall Peggy's wandering
thoughts, or perhaps there was just a spice of malice in the action--at
any rate, she dug the point of her lead-pencil so sharply into poor
Peggy's hand that her astonished victim sat up with a yell.
'_Margaret!_' exclaimed the outraged mistress.
'I couldn't help it!' cried Peggy, grown desperate: 'Emily hurt me so!'
'I'm very sorry, Miss Crossland,' said Emily sweetly. 'I didn't mean to
hurt Margaret, only to make her see you were speaking to her.'
'Which would not have been necessary if she had been attending
properly,' replied the mistress. 'And I must say I think little of any
girl who cannot endure a moment's pain in silence. Read out your answer,
Emily, and I will then correct the home-work.'
Peggy heaved a sigh of relief at that. She knew the sums which she had
worked at home on Saturday were correct, for Lilian had gone over them
carefully afterwards, so she opened her book and took up her pencil
ready to put a triumphant 'R' to each of them.
'Miss Martin has borrowed my Blackie's Arithmetic,' said Miss Crossland,
'so I have not the answers here. But read out your results, Bertha Muir,
and I shall be able to judge from the general average whether they are
correct or not.'
'Three hundred and nineteen pounds six and sevenpence,' read out
Bertha.
'Hands up girls who have got that answer,' said Miss Crossland.
At least twenty out of the thirty hands went up like lightning into the
air.
'Right!' ventured the teacher.
Peggy gazed at her sum in amazement. She differed from the answer by
several figures. Could both she and Lilian have made a mistake? It
seemed impossible, for Lilian was so splendid at arithmetic. But Bertha
was reading out the next sum, and the next. To each answer she gave a
crowd of uplifted hands agreed with her, and poor Peggy found, to her
chagrin, that in every case her figures were not the same. It could not
be that all the ten sums she had taken so much pains over were wrong. If
so, it meant a very bad mark for arithmetic.
'Oh, Miss Crossland,' she burst out, 'it's not fair! I _know_ my answers
were right. If you would only work them out on the board, you'd soon
see.'
'Margaret Vaughan,' said Miss Crossland sternly, 'I am the best judge in
this matter, and if I have any more trouble with you this morning I
shall send you straight to Miss Martin. I do not allow any girl to speak
to me in that tone.'
Though inwardly raging, Peggy was forced to put on an outward appearance
of submission and good behaviour, and the lessons droned on somehow
until the morning was over. Most of the girls fled, as usual the moment
the class was dismissed; but Peggy stayed behind in the schoolroom to
tidy her desk and talk to Nora Pemberton, who just at present was her
particular friend among her schoolmates.
'I can't think how it was my sums were all wrong,' she lamented, as she
put away the ill-fated home-lesson book. 'Did you get yours right,
Nora?'
'No, wrong, every one; and I had worked them so carefully.'
'Just let me look at your answers. Why, they are exactly like mine! I
know they are right. How is it all the other girls got the same as
Bertha?'
'Oh, I can tell you that,' said Nora, 'They all copied her sums, for I
saw them doing it just before school began. You know it was the Military
Bazaar at the Assembly Rooms on Saturday, and I suppose most of the
girls were there, and had no time to do their home-work, so they just
scribbled down Bertha's figures before the bell rang.'
'How unfair! How shamefully mean!' cried Peggy, with flaming cheeks.
'Miss Crossland ought to work out those sums.'
'She won't, though. You made her so angry about it this morning, and
when once she says a thing she sticks to it.'
'She's always hard on me somehow,' sighed Peggy. 'She's been perfectly
horrible to-day. Why, Nora, what's the matter?'
For Nora had also had a tidy fit, and had been turning out her desk, and
she now drew forth a book with such a very blank and rueful face that
Peggy might well exclaim.
'It's the Literature Notes,' said Nora in an awe-struck voice--'that
book Miss Martin lent us to copy from, and that vanished so mysteriously
a month ago. Don't you remember what a fearful fuss she made about it,
and we were all told to search in our desks? I thought I had looked
quite to the bottom of mine, but there it was, under a pile of old
exercise-books. Whatever shall I do? She will be so dreadfully angry
with me.'
'Why, of course, you'll have to take it back,' said Peggy. 'But,' her
love of mischief getting the upper hand, 'I don't see why we shouldn't
have a little fun with it first. You won't find Miss Martin in the
library now, and it would do quite as well at four o'clock, so suppose
you put it inside Mary Hill's desk, just to give her a fright. She's
such a goose, she'll give a perfect howl of horror when she finds it,
and then we'll pretend to think she must have had it there all the time,
and get her into _such_ a state of mind before we tell her.'
Nora laughed, for practical jokes were at a high tide of popularity in
the class, and many were the tricks which the girls played on one
another.
'I owe Mary something,' she said, 'for she tied my hair-ribbon to the
back of the desk on Friday, and when I tried to get up I was held fast
by my pigtail.'
'It will be a good way to pay her back, then,' said Peggy. 'See, I'll
put it just on the top in front, where she'll find it first thing; but
don't tell a soul till this afternoon, or you'll spoil all the fun.'
The two conspirators ran downstairs laughing, and were soon romping in
the playground. After dinner one of the elder girls suggested rounders,
and the game grew so enthralling that time flew by until the bell,
ringing for afternoon school, sent the players, hot and rosy with their
exertions, hurrying up the great staircase to their classrooms. As Peggy
passed the door of Miss Martin's study she happened to notice Mary Hill
come out of it, with a particularly red and uncomfortable look upon her
face.
'What has she been doing there?' thought Peggy; but there was neither
time to inquire Mary's errand nor to carry out her anticipated joke with
the note-book, for the girls were taking their places, and Miss
Crossland came in a moment afterwards.
She mounted the platform and rang the bell for order, but, instead of
calling their names as usual, she announced:
'Girls, Miss Martin desires that you should all be present in the
lecture-hall, where she wishes to address the whole school. File out in
order, beginning with the top desk on the right.'
Full of astonishment, the girls marched down to the large lecture-hall,
where all the classes were assembling, marshalled by their teachers. It
was evidently a matter of some importance, for it was seldom indeed that
lessons were interrupted in this manner. The girls kept whispering to
each other under their breath:
'Whatever can it all be about? Have you heard anything? Why does she
want us all here?'
But their surmises were soon put an end to by the appearance of Miss
Martin herself, stately and commanding as usual, and with a grieved look
on her face. She mounted the platform, and with a little sigh turned to
her expectant audience.
'Girls,' she began, with an air almost of tragedy, 'a very distressing
incident has happened to-day--a circumstance which in all the records of
this school has never occurred before. You see this book in my hand,'
and she held up (oh, luckless Peggy!) the missing note-book. 'This book
of manuscript notes, which I had compiled myself from various sources,
and valued greatly, I lent to be copied by the third form. It was lost,
and though I caused every search to be made, I could find no trace of
it. Girls, I regret to say that to-day this book has been brought back
to school, and _has been placed in another girl's desk_--in the desk, I
repeat, of an innocent girl, who had nothing to do with its loss.'
Miss Martin paused, and a wave of horror passed over the school. As for
Peggy, her blood ran cold. It had never struck her before that the act
of placing the book in Mary's desk could be open to such a construction.
She had meant it all for a joke, and thought Mary would have been the
first to join in the fun, and then Nora would, of course, have taken it
back. She saw now that, while they had still been romping at rounders,
Mary must have gone up to the schoolroom, and finding the missing notes
in her desk, had carried them at once to the library.
'Oh, why did we not come up sooner?' groaned Peggy. 'Who would ever have
thought of Miss Martin taking it like this?'
'I feel,' continued the head-mistress sadly, 'that we have one girl
among us of so dishonourable a nature that she seeks to hide her fault
by throwing the blame on to the shoulders of another. Who that girl may
be I cannot tell, but her own conscience must surely convict her.'
She paused again, and her glance passed slowly round the room. Peggy's
face grew burning hot.
'I am determined,' Miss Martin went on, 'to probe this matter to the
bottom, and I now call upon any girl who may have any knowledge on the
subject to rise up and tell what she knows.'
Peggy tried to look at Nora, but Nora was several rows behind her. For
one moment she hesitated, and in that moment she was lost. Emily
Thompson had risen in her place.
'Well, Emily,' said Miss Martin gravely, 'do you know anything about
this unhappy affair?'
'I do, Miss Martin,' replied Emily in a low voice.
'Tell me at once, then,' commanded the head-mistress.
'I would much rather not, please,' said Emily, casting down her eyes.
'I don't like getting another girl into trouble.'
'Emily Thompson, this is not the time to shield a companion, and I order
you to say at once what you know.'
'Well,' said Emily, twisting her slim hands nervously, 'if I must tell,
I went back to the schoolroom before dinner for my pencil-box, and,'
with a sidelong look at Peggy, 'I noticed Margaret Vaughan putting a
book inside Mary Hill's desk.'
The bolt had fallen. Miss Martin turned to Peggy, who, with white and
quivering lips, sat as still as if she had been frozen on to the form.
'Is this false or true, Margaret Vaughan?' she asked, in a voice that
was scarcely more than a whisper.
There were nearly four hundred girls in the room, but you could have
heard a pin drop in the silence. Lilian had risen half up in her place,
and was looking at Peggy with eager, expectant face. As for Peggy, she
felt as if the end of the world had come. She could not in truth deny
the fact, though of the intention she was absolutely guiltless. She had
never in her life told a lie, and she summoned all the Vaughan spirit to
her aid.
'It's true,' she faltered, trying to speak bravely, but wishing all the
time that she could sink through the floor.
Miss Martin gazed at her for a moment as if dumbfounded.
'That will do,' she said at last. 'I will inquire into this privately.
Miss Pope, will you kindly take Margaret Vaughan into the kindergarten
classroom, where she will wait until I come to her? Each form may now
leave the room in turn. We have wasted too much time already.'
Peggy's head was in a whirl. She had a confused idea that Lilian was
trying to come to her across a row of benches, and was being held back
by a teacher; but otherwise she scarcely knew what was happening, except
that she seemed to be the centre for all the eight hundred eyes in the
room, till Miss Pope took her by the shoulder and marched her away like
a warder escorting a very small convict to gaol. The kindergarten babies
did not return to school in the afternoon, so their little classroom was
empty. Left alone, the poor child flung herself on to one of the low
seats and burst into a passion of tears.
That it should come to this--that she, Peggy Vaughan, who, whatever
might be her faults, had always held such an unstained reputation for
honour and truthfulness, should be deemed capable of such a mean and
discreditable action seemed too hard to be borne. She felt as if she
could never explain the matter properly, and that the brand of this
horrible affair would remain on her for the rest of her life, bringing
disgrace upon the whole family for her sake. She worked herself up
nearly to the point of heartbreak when she thought of what Father and
Aunt Helen would think about it, and it seemed to her as though the very
Crusaders and the lady and gentleman in the Elizabethan ruffs would look
at her from their tombs in the church next Sunday with grave disapproval
in their eyes.
'It's all my own fault, too,' she thought, 'for Nora wanted to take that
wretched book back at once, and she would have done so if it hadn't been
for me. I don't think Miss Martin will ever believe me now, when I tell
her how it was, and all the girls will think me a mean sneak for
evermore.' And her tears flowed down faster and faster as she pictured
herself a sort of social outcast in the school, shunned and avoided by
everyone. 'I wonder how long they're going to leave me here?' she
thought dismally, as the afternoon wore away and the clock chimed
half-past three. 'Miss Martin said she was coming after me at once. Oh,
if _only_ I could get home, I'd ask Father not to send me to school
again. Perhaps Aunt Helen would teach me lessons at home if I begged
hard. I can never bear to face anybody here after all this.'
It really seemed too bad to leave the poor little culprit so long in
suspense, for to a child's mind the agony of waiting is often far worse
than the dreaded punishment, and childhood's sorrows are so overwhelming
and hopeless that they almost eclipse those of later years.
Peggy's head was aching, her eyes were red and swollen with crying, and
dark despair was settling down upon her, when the door suddenly opened,
and Lilian burst in and caught her in a regular bear's hug, while Nora
followed like a perfect whirlwind only a yard behind.
'There, darling! don't cry any more. I _knew_ you couldn't do such a
mean thing,' said Lilian between her kisses. 'I've been just longing to
come and comfort you, but they wouldn't let me. I rushed off at once to
tell Miss Martin I was sure it was all a horrible mistake, but she was
engaged with a tiresome caller who had just been shown into the library,
and I've been dodging about the corridor all this time waiting to see
her.'
'And so have I,' cried Nora. 'I have been simply dancing with impatience
on the doormat. I know I ought to have told at once, but I was so
dreadfully taken aback at it all turning out like that, and you being
accused, that I could only stand and stare like an idiot while Miss Pope
marched you out of the room. Miss Martin's been ever so nice about it,
though. She talked a lot about my being careless and our wanting to play
tricks on Mary, but she said she was "glad to be able to think as highly
of Margaret Vaughan as she had always done," and we were to go at once
and set you free. She actually kissed us both before we went, didn't
she, Lilian? Do say you forgive me, Peggy, for I feel as if I had got
you into all this trouble.'
'Of course I do,' said Peggy warmly, feeling ready to forgive even Emily
Thompson in her relief.
'The girls all know about it,' said Nora. 'They're waiting outside in
the playground. They think Emily Thompson was a sneak to go telling
tales like that, without asking you first if you had really done it, and
they're so sorry for you that they say they'll give you a "hooray" when
you come out.'
But, though all is well that ends well, Peggy was still so tear-stained
and upset that she did not feel equal to facing her school-fellows,
however sympathetic they might be, so she escaped with Lilian through
the side-door into the street, feeling she would never be really happy
or at ease again till she was back in that haven of home where she was
always appreciated and understood, and pouring out her troubles to Aunt
Helen in the sanctuary of the Rose Parlour.