Chapter 15 A Very Naughty Girl by L. T. Meade
SCHOOL
The girls at Chepstow House were quite excited at the advent of Audrey and Evelyn. They were nice girls, nearly all of them; they were ladies, too, of a good class; but they had not been at Chepstow House long without coming under the influence of what dominated the entire place – that big house on the hill, with its castellated roof and its tower, its moat too, and its big, big gardens, its spacious park, and all its surroundings. It was a place to talk to their friends at home about, and to think of and wonder over when at school. The girls at Chepstow House had often looked with envy at Audrey as she rode by on her pretty Arab pony. They talked of her to each other; they criticised her appearance; they praised her actions. She was a sort of princess to them. Then there appeared on the scene another little princess – a strange child, without style, without manners, without any personal attractions; and this child, it was whispered, was the real heiress. By and by pretty Audrey would cease to live at Castle Wynford, and the little girl with the extraordinary face would be monarch of all she surveyed. The girls commented over this story amongst each other, as girls will; and when the younger Miss Henderson – Miss Lucy, as they called her – told them that Audrey Wynford and her cousin Evelyn were coming as schoolgirls to Chepstow House their excitement knew no bounds.
“They are coming here,” said Miss Lucy, “and I trust that all you girls who belong to the house will treat them as they ought to be treated.”
“And how is that, Miss Lucy?” said Brenda Fox, the tallest and most important girl in the school.
“You must treat them as ladies, but at the same time as absolutely your equals in every respect,” said Miss Lucy. “They are coming to school partly to find their level; we must be kind to them, but there is to be no difference made between them and the rest of you. Now, Brenda, go with the other girls into the Blue Parlor and attend to your preparation for Signor Forre.”
Brenda and her companions went away, and during the rest of the day, whenever they had a spare moment, the girls talked over Audrey and Evelyn.
The next morning the cousins arrived. They came in Audrey’s pretty governess-cart, and Audrey drove the fat pony herself. A groom took it back to the Castle, with orders to come for his young ladies at six in the evening, for Lady Frances had arranged that the girls were to have both early dinner and tea at school.
They both entered the house, and even Audrey just for a moment felt slightly nervous. The elder Miss Henderson took them into her private sitting-room, asked them a few questions, and then, desiring them to follow her, went down a long passage which led into the large schoolroom. Here the girls, about forty in number, were all assembled. Miss Henderson introduced the new pupils with a few brief words. She then went up to Miss Lucy and asked her, as soon as prayers were over, to question both Audrey and Evelyn with regard to their attainments, and to put them into suitable classes.
The Misses Wynford sat side by side during prayers, and immediately afterwards were taken into Miss Lucy’s private sitting-room. Here a very vigorous examination ensued, with the result that Audrey was promoted to take her place with the head girls, and Evelyn was conducted to the Fourth Form. Her companions received her with smiling eyes and beaming looks. She felt rather cross, however; and was even more so when the English teacher, Miss Thompson, set her some work to do. Evelyn was extremely backward with regard to her general education. But Miss Sinclair had such marvelous tact, that, while she instructed the little girl and gave her lessons which were calculated to bring out her best abilities, she never let her feel her real ignorance. At school, however, all this state of things was reversed. Audrey, calm and dignified, took a high position in the school; and Evelyn was simply, in her own opinion, nowhere. A sulky expression clouded her face. She thought of Jasper’s words, and determined that no one should break her spirit.
“You will read over the reign of Edward I., and I will question you about it when morning school is over,” said Miss Thompson in a pleasant tone. “After recreation I will give you your lessons to prepare for to-morrow. Now, please attend to your book. You will be able to take your proper place in class to-morrow.”
Miss Thompson as she spoke handed a History of England to the little girl. The History was dry, and the reign, in Evelyn’s opinion, not worth reading. She glanced at it, then turned the book, open as it was, upside down on her desk, rested her elbows on it, and looked calmly around her.
“Take up your book, Miss Wynford, and read it,” said Miss Thompson.
Evelyn smiled quietly.
“I know all about the reign,” she said. “I need not read the history any more.”
The other girls smiled. Miss Thompson thought it best to take no notice. The work of the school proceeded; and at last, when recess came, the English teacher called the little girl to her.
“Now I must question you,” she said. “You say you know the reign of Edward I. Let me hear what you do know. Stand in front of me, please; put your hands behind your back. So.”
“I prefer to keep my hands where they are,” said Evelyn.
“Do what I say. Stand upright. Now then!”
Miss Thompson began catechizing. Evelyn’s crass ignorance instantly appeared. She knew nothing whatever of that special period of English history; indeed, at that time her knowledge of any history was practically nil.
“I am sorry you told me what was not true with regard to the reign of Edward I.,” said the governess. “In this school we are very strict and particular. I will say nothing further on the matter to-day; but you will stay here and read over the history during recess.”
“What!” cried Evelyn, her face turning white. “Am I not to have my recreation?”
“Recess only lasts for twenty minutes; you will have to do without your amusement in the playground this morning. To-morrow I hope you will have got through your lessons well and be privileged to enjoy your pastime with the other pupils.”
“Do you know who I am?” began Evelyn.
“Yes – perfectly. You are little Evelyn Wynford. Now be a good girl, Evelyn, and attend to your work.”
Miss Thompson left the room. Evelyn found herself alone. A wild fury consumed her. She jumped up.
“Does she think for a single moment that I am going to obey her?” thought the naughty child. “Oh, if only Jasper were here! Oh Jasper! you were right; they are trying to break me in, but they won’t succeed.”
A book which the governess had laid upon a table near attracted the little girl’s attention. It was not an ordinary lesson-book, but a very beautiful copy of Ruskin’s Sesame and Lilies. Evelyn took up the book, opened it, and read the following words on the title-page:
“To dear Agnes, from her affectionate brother Walter. Christmas Day, 1896.”
Quick as thought the angry child tore out the title-page and two or three other pages at the beginning, scattered them into little bits, and then, going up to the fire which burned at one end of the long room, flung the scattered fragments into the blaze. She had no sooner done so than a curious sense of dismay stole over her. She shut up the book hastily, and being really alarmed, began to look over her English history. Miss Thompson came back just before recess was over, picked up Evelyn’s book, asked her one or two questions, and gave her an approving nod.
“That is better,” she said. “You have done as much as I could expect in the time. Now then, come here, please. These are your English lessons for to-morrow.”
Evelyn walked quite meekly across the room. Miss Thompson set her several lessons in the ordinary English subjects.
“And now,” she said, “you are to go to mademoiselle. She is waiting to find out what French you know, and to give you your lesson for to-morrow.”
The rest of the school hours passed quickly. Evelyn was given what she considered a disgraceful amount of work to do; but a dull fear sat at her heart, and she felt a sense of regret at having torn the pages out of the volume of Ruskin. Immediately after morning school the girls went for a short walk, then dinner was announced, and after dinner there was a brief period of freedom. Evelyn, Audrey, and the rest all found themselves walking in the grounds. Brenda Fox immediately went up to Audrey, and introduced her to a few of the nicest girls in the head form, and they all began to pace slowly up and down. Evelyn stood just for an instant forlorn; then she dashed into the midst of a circle of little girls who were playing noisily together.
“Stop!” she said. “Look at me, all of you.”
The children stopped playing, and looked in wonder at Evelyn.
“I am Evelyn Wynford. Who is going to be my friend? I shall only take up with the one I really like. I am not afraid of any of you. I have come to school to find out if I like it; if I don’t like it I shall not stay. You had best, all of you, know what sort I am. It was very mean and horrid to put me into the Fourth Form with a number of ignorant little babies; but as I am there, I suppose I shall have to stay for a week or so.”
“You were put into the Fourth Form,” said little Sophie Jenner, “because, I suppose, you did not know enough to be put into the Fifth Form.”
“You are a cheeky little thing,” said Evelyn, “and I am not going to trouble myself to reply to you. – Well, now, who is going to be my friend? I can tell you all numbers of stories; I have heaps of pocket-money, and I can bring chocolate-creams and ginger-pop and all sorts of good things to the school.”
These last remarks were decidedly calculated to ensure Evelyn’s popularity. Two or three of the girls ran up to her, and she was soon marching up and down the playground relating some of her grievances, and informing them, one and all, of the high position which lay before her.
“You are all very much impressed with Audrey, I can see, but she is really nobody,” cried Eve. “By and by Wynford Castle will be mine, and won’t you like to say you knew me when I am mistress of the Castle – won’t you just! I do not at all know that I shall stay long at school, but you had better make it pleasant for me.”
Some of the girls were much impressed, and a few of them swore eternal fealty to Evelyn. One or two began to flatter her, and on the whole the little girl considered that she had a fairly good time during play-hour. When she got back to her work she was relieved to see that Ruskin’s Sesame and Lilies no longer lay in its place on the small table where Miss Thompson had left it.
“She will not open it, perhaps, for years,” thought Evelyn. “I need not worry any more about that. And if she did like the book I am glad I tore it. Horrid, horrid thing!”
Lessons went on, and by and by Audrey and Evelyn’s first day at school came to an end. The governess-cart came to fetch them, and they drove off under the admiring gaze of several of their fellow-pupils.
“Well, Evelyn, and how did you like school?” said Audrey when the two were alone together.
“You could not expect me to like it very much,” replied Evelyn. “I was put into such a horrid low class. I am angry with Miss Thompson.”
“Miss Thompson! That nice, intelligent girl?”
“Not much of a girl about her!” said Evelyn. “Why, she is quite old.”
“Do you think so? She struck me as young, pretty, and very nice.”
“It is all very well for you, Audrey; you are so tame. I really believe you never think a bad thought of anybody.”
“I try not to, of course,” replied Audrey. “Do you imagine it is a fine trait in one’s character to think bad thoughts of people?”
“Mothery always said that if you did not dislike people, you were made of cotton-wool,” replied Evelyn.
“Then you really do dislike people?”
“Oh! some I dislike awfully. Now, there is one at the Castle – but there! I won’t say any more about her; and there is one at school whom I hate. It is that horrid Thompson woman. And she had the cheek to call me Evelyn.”
“Of course she calls you Evelyn; you are her pupil.”
“Well, I think it is awful cheek, all the same. I hate her, and – oh, Audrey, such fun – such fun! I have revenged myself on her; I really have.”
“Oh Evelyn! don’t get into mischief, I beseech of you.”
“I sha’n’t say any more, but I do believe that I have revenged myself. Oh, such fun – such fun!”
Evelyn laughed several times during the rest of her drive home, and arrived at the Castle in high spirits. The girls were to dine with Lady Frances and the Squire that evening, as they happened to be alone; and the Squire was quite interested in the account which Evelyn gave him of her class.
“The only reason why I could read the dull, dull life of Edward I.,” she said, “is because Edward is your name, Uncle Ned, and because I love you so much.”
“On the whole, my dear,” said the Squire later on to his wife, “the school experiment seems to work well. Little Evelyn was in high spirits to-night.”
“You think of no one but Evelyn!” said Lady Frances. “What about Audrey?”
“I am not afraid about Audrey; you have trained her, and she is by nature most amiable,” said the Squire.
“I am glad you paid me a compliment, my dear,” answered his wife. “Audrey certainly does credit to my training. But I trust Miss Henderson will break that naughty girl in; she certainly needs it.”
The next morning the girls went back to school; and Evelyn, who had quite forgotten what she had done to the book, and who had provided herself secretly with a great packet of delicious sweetmeats which she intended to distribute amongst her favorites, was still in high spirits.
School began, the girls went to their different classes, Evelyn stumbled badly through her lessons, and at last the hour of recess came. The girls were all preparing to leave the schoolroom when Miss Thompson asked them to wait a moment.
“Something most painful has occurred,” she said, “and I trust whichever girl has done the mischief will at once confess it.”
Evelyn’s face did not change color. A curious, numb feeling got round her heart; then an obstinate spirit took possession of her.
“Not for worlds will I tell,” she thought. “Of course Miss Thompson is alluding to the book.”
Yes, Miss Thompson was. She held the beautifully bound copy of Ruskin in her hand, opened it where the title-page used to be, and with tears in her eyes looked at the girls.
“Some one has torn four pages out of the beginning of this book,” she said. “I left it here by mistake yesterday. I took it up this morning to continue a lecture which I was preparing for the afternoon, and found what terrible mischief had been done. I trust whoever has done this will at least have the honor to confess her wrong-doing.”
Silence and expressions of intense dismay were seen on all the young faces.
“If it were my own book I should not mind so much,” said the governess; “but it happens to belong to Miss Henderson, and was given to her by her favorite brother, who died two months afterwards. I had some difficulty in getting her to allow me to use it for this lecture. Nothing can replace to her the loss of the inscription written in her brother’s own hand. The only possible chance for the guilty person is to tell all at once. But, oh! who could have been so cruel?”
Still the girls were silent, although tears had risen to many of their eyes. Miss Thompson could hear the words “Oh, what a shame!” coming from more than one pair of lips.
She waited for an instant, and then said:
“I must put a question to each and all of you. I had hoped the guilty person would confess; but as it is, I am obliged to ask who has done this mischief.”
She then began to question one girl after another in the class. There were twelve in all in this special class, and each as her turn came replied in the negative. Certainly she had not done the mischief; certainly she had not torn the book. Evelyn’s turn came last. She replied quietly:
“I have not done it. I have not seen the book, and I have not torn out the inscription.”
No one had any reason to doubt her words; and Miss Thompson, looking very sorrowful, paused for a minute and then said:
“I have asked each of you, and you have all denied it. I must now question every one else in the school. When I have done all that I can I shall have to submit the matter to Miss Henderson, but I did not want to grieve her with the news of this terrible loss until I could at least assure her that the girl who had done the mischief had repented.”
Still there was silence, and Miss Thompson left the schoolroom. The moment she did so the buzz of eager voices began, and during the recess that followed nothing was talked of in the Fourth Form but the loss which poor Miss Henderson had sustained.
“Poor dear!” said Sophie Jenner; “and she did love her brother so much! His name was Walter; he was very handsome. He came once to the school when first it was started. My sister Rose was here then, and she said how kind he was, and how he asked for a holiday for the girls; and Miss Henderson and Miss Lucy were quite wrapped up in him. Oh, who could have been so cruel?”
“I never heard of such a fuss about a trifle before,” here came from Evelyn’s lips. “Why, it is only a book when all is said and done.”
“Don’t you understand?” said Sophie, looking at her in some astonishment. “It is not a common book; it is one given to Miss Henderson by the brother she loved. He is dead now; he can never give her any other book. That was the very last present he ever made her.”
“Have some lollipops, and try to think of cheerful things,” said Evelyn; but Sophie turned almost petulantly away.
“Do you know,” Sophie said to her special friend, Cherry Wynne, “I don’t think I like Evelyn. How funnily she spoke! I wonder, Cherry, if she had anything to do with the book?”
“Of course not,” answered Cherry. “She would not have dared to utter such a lie. Poor Miss Henderson! How sorry I am for her!”