Chapter 7 Wild Kitty by L. T. Meade
ELMA
Kitty Malone was admitted to a low form at Middleton School, her acquirements being the reverse of distinguished. This fact did not give her the smallest sense of discomfort. On the contrary, she was pleased; and although her fellow-scholars were all younger and smaller than herself, she soon became a sort of queen among them, laughing and joking with them, and flying round the playground with half a dozen small girls at her heels, feasting them with unlimited chocolate and telling them stories. She soon got through her somewhat easy lessons, and was wilder and more incorrigible than ever. The only sober moments she seemed to enjoy were when she was with Bessie; for Bessie Challoner took a sincere interest in her, and was very anxious to get her into a higher form, where she would be with girls nearer her own age, and would thus be forced to submit to more discipline than she could enjoy with the younger girls. Bessie also hoped great things from the Tug-of-war Society, and soon told Kitty that she was to be asked to become a member.
"I will certainly join when I am asked," answered Kitty. "I have not the least idea what you are all driving at, but I'll become a member if it's to be in the same society with you, my darling duck of a girl!"
Bessie then read her a copy of the rules.
"Why, then, you can't expect me to adhere to the first of them," was Kitty's answer. "It's no, it's no to that, Bessie. I wouldn't tell a lie for any earthly thing, and I could not drive myself to the head of that class. Why, I wouldn't take the place from sweet little Agnes Moore for all the world. Why it's tears I'd bring to the pretty eyes of the creature. Oh, I couldn't get ahead of her. I'd just as lief be at the tail—just as lief."
"But, Kitty, have you no ambition?"
"Well, no, dear, I don't think I have. I never could see the fun of taking a prize from another; it's no use I'll be in the society, not the least bit."
"Well, all the same it would do you good," said Bessie, "for you know you love your father, and you said you would try to acquire knowledge to please him."
"Oh, where's the good of reminding me of that," said Kitty, looking very thoughtful and somewhat pensive. "Why did you come out with it, Bessie, aroon; it's fretting the heart out of me you are. Dear old dad! there's nothing I wouldn't do for him."
"I am glad I did remind you, Kitty, for you know you have come here to learn."
"Ah, dear, I'll shut my ears if you talk any more in that sort of way," said Kitty. "If I must learn, I must; but don't be reminding me of it, there's a good creature—it's play out of school if it's work in."
"Much work you do, Kitty! Why, I always see you laughing and winking and twinkling your eyes, and pushing your feet about."
"Pushing my feet about! And is it to keep them in a corner I would, pretty feet like mine! Why, they are meant to be seen. That's the only reason why I object to a long dress, because it does not show so much of the feet and ankles. Ah, sure it's dear little ankles I have, as neat and trim as you please."
"Kitty, you are getting wilder than ever."
"Well, darling, I'll cool down if you'll just let me give you one of my big hugs."
"I really can't; my ribs are quite sore. You must not do it to-day. I told you, you might once a week, but no oftener."
Kitty sank down on the nearest chair and looked comically miserable.
"Go on with the next rule, Bessie," she said, after a moment. "I want to belong to the Tug-of-war because it's close to you I'll be, darling. What's the next rule?"
Bessie read it out to her.
"Why, now, it's the pink of a lady I am myself," said Kitty. "I was always told I was; I don't mind that rule in the least. There won't be much of a tug-of-war there; if Kitty Malone is to be a lady, why, a lady she is. I wish you could hear Aunt Honora and Aunt Bridget talking about our ancient family and our long and royal descent. Go on, Bessie; that's not so bad as taking the prize from poor little Agnes. What's Rule III.?"
Rule III. was read aloud to Kitty, who shook her head solemnly several times.
"Now, to be frank with you," she said, "there's only one bond between Alice and me, and that is we do make a froth of the things in our drawers; and if we are both to struggle against our besetting infirmity, it will go hard with us; but there, it will be fun to see her struggling to be tidy and all to no purpose. I think I'll join on that account. I shall like to see her fighting her drawers. I know if I'm put to it I can keep mine twenty times tidier."
"I am now coming to Rule IV.," said Bessie; this she read aloud with some qualms, for she disliked it so very much herself. Kitty's eyes flashed with pleasure.
"Now, that is after my own heart," she cried, "fashionable dresses are they, and hair done up in style. Mavourneen! mavourneen! you will have to wear a fringe!"
Kitty burst into peals of laughter.
"Oh, Bessie," she said, "I have just been longing to attack that head of yours. I'll bring my little tongs along, and I'll curl up such a lovely fringe on your great intellectual forehead."
"You'll do nothing of the kind," said Bessie, clasping her hands over her head to protect her thick, long hair.
"But you must, mavourneen, you must if you join the Tug-of-war Society. Oh, it's beautiful you'll look! And I tell you what it is, Bessie, I'll lend you the patterns of my new sleeves—those that are all crinkled from above the elbow down to the wrist, and puffed ever so much at the top, with little tucks, and little insertions, and little—"
"Kitty, I won't listen to you for another moment. I shall try to dress as neatly as I can, and perhaps I must twist my hair into a more stylish coil at the back of my head, but beyond that I absolutely refuse to go."
"Well, it's a delicious rule," said Kitty Malone, "and I hope I'll work you round after a bit, Bessie. It seems but fair that if I yield to you with regard to the other rules you ought to yield to me about Rule IV. I am sure if I do take the prize from poor little Agnes Moore, and if I never speak a word of slang, and if I keep my abominable drawers as neat as a new pin, and all my clothes in perfect order, that you on your part ought to wear a good thick, heavy fringe, and have your hair pointed out ever so far at the back in the way it is worn in the present day. I'd love to do it; and you have magnificent hair, Bessie, aroon! so you have."
"I must ask you to leave me now, Kitty," was Bessie's answer. "You are a very funny girl, and there is a great deal that I like in you; but I cannot neglect my studies even for you."
"Oh, bother your studies!" answered Kitty.
Bessie, however, was quite in earnest, and Kitty had to leave her.
The next day there was another meeting at Gwin Harley's house, and the members of the Tug-of-war Society were formally initiated into the mysteries of what they had undertaken. About ten girls joined in all, and it was decided to limit the number to these until the end of the present term. In addition to the four chief rules it was also clearly understood that the members were all to be absolutely faithful the one to the other, that no member of the Tug-of-war Society was to speak against another member; on the contrary, she was to uphold her through thick and thin, to help her if possible, to aid her in moments of difficulty, and to rejoice with her in moments of triumph. Once a week the members were to meet at each other's houses. There they were to have tea together, to discuss the rules if necessary, but at any rate to have a pleasant time. As the summer advanced picnics were to be inaugurated on Saturdays, and fun of some sort or another was to be the vogue.
Kitty, who had dressed herself for this auspicious occasion in a dress of the palest blue, with a silver sheen running in zigzag lines all over it, whose black hair was curled up on her forehead and coiled fantastically round the back of her head, whose eyes were shining and wreathing themselves in all sorts of smiles, could scarcely restrain her spirits while the rest of the girls were debating on the rules.
Finally Gwin laid a little box on the table, and asked the new members to subscribe their half-guinea each. Each girl dropped her half-sovereign and sixpence into the box with the exception of Elma, who, coloring a little, said she would bring it to Gwin the next day. No one made any remark, as it was well known in the school that Elma was anything but well off, and Gwin privately resolved to subscribe for her without saying anything about it.
Then the girls had tea in Gwin's own private sitting-room, and afterward they wandered about the lawns, and returned home in the cool of the evening. On this occasion Elma found herself side by side with Kitty Malone. Kitty was walking quietly; she had exhausted some of her emotions during the hours that she had played tennis, and laughed and chatted with the other members of the Tug-of-war Society, and when Elma put her hand on her arm, and looked up at her half-timidly and half-beseechingly, Kitty stopped short, and said in her hearty, frank voice:
"And what may you be wanting with me, Elma? Is it a favor I can do you; because if it is I am sure you are welcome to it with all the pleasure in life."
"You are a good-natured girl, Kitty," said Elma; "I always felt that from the very first. Shall we drop a little behind the others? The fact is I don't want every one to hear what I am going to say to you."
"If it is a secret, darling, don't tell it to me," said Kitty, "for I cannot keep it. I always say so quite frankly. I say to each person who comes to me with a private confidence, 'Confide nothing in Kitty Malone, for Kitty Malone is a sieve.'"
"Oh, but it would never do for you to be that," said Elma, who was somewhat alarmed and secretly greatly disgusted. "A girl is not worth her salt if she tells what is confided to her by another girl; and of course, now that you have become a member of the Tug-of-war Society, if you are found blabbing any of our secrets at Middleton School I don't know what will happen!"
"I wonder what would happen!" cried Kitty; "it would be quite nice to find out. Do tell me, Elma."
"How can I when you don't understand," said Elma. "You would be wanting in all honor; none of us ten girls would speak to you again."
"Wouldn't Bessie Challoner, the darling?"
"Certainly not. She could not; none of us could."
"I shouldn't like that," said Kitty thoughtfully. "I did not know, when I joined the Tug-of-war, that I was to be burdened with secrets. And am I not to explain to any of the other girls why I am moving heaven and earth to get to the very head of the class? Am I not to breathe the real reason, when I am taking poor little Agnes Moore's place, and breaking her heart, the pretty lamb? Is that so?"
"You certainly are not," said Elma. "Dear me, Kitty, what a very extraordinary specimen you are!"
"Well, don't scold me, for pity's sake," said Kitty. "I am so sick of every one telling me that I am an extraordinary specimen. In Ireland they think I am a very fine specimen; but here! oh, it's nothing but holding up of hands and rolling up of eyes, and 'Oh, dear, let us get out of her way!' and 'Oh, dear, how queer she looks in her grand clothes!' and—and——"
"Do stop talking, Kitty. You are the most awful rattlepate——"
"There, now, on you go," said poor Kitty. "I'm a rattlepate, am I? It seems that I can never speak but I get into somebody's black books."
"You don't get into mine, I am sure," said Elma. "But I think you ought to be greatly obliged to me for telling you what is your plain duty with regard to the Tug-of-war Society. It is just like a secret society; our rules are our own, and not a soul who is not a member must know anything about them."
"Well, I won't tell," said Kitty. "When I say a thing I stick to it. I won't split—there I that's flat and I suppose I am obliged to you, Elma."
"Yon ought to be," answered Elma. "Why, what a terrible scrape you would have got into. And now, then, Kitty, I have something else to tell you."
"Well, and what is it?" asked Kitty.
"First, are you not pleased that you are a member of the Tug-of-war
Society?"
"To be sure I am. I think it is awfully nice of all you girls to ask me to join."
"It is a great distinction," continued Elma; "a new girl like you, one who is not known a bit in the school! Out of the whole school we have only selected ten, including the founders, and you are one. You ought to think yourself in rare luck."
"So I do."
"And you ought to be very grateful."
"So I am."
"But do you know whom you ought to be grateful to?"
"Well, I suppose to Bessie."
"Not a bit of it; it is to me you ought to be grateful. But for me you would not be a member of the Tug-of-war Society."
"But for you, Elma?"
"No."
"Was it you who got me asked to join?"
"I was the one who insisted on your being asked to join us. I put it plainly to Bessie and to Gwin, and they quite agreed with me. Alice was the only one who voted against you."
"Oh, just like her, spiteful thing!" said Kitty, coloring with annoyance. "Well, I am sure, Elma, I am obliged to you, and if there's anything I can do—"
"I am coming to that," said Elma; "it's not much, but if you could—"
"Could what? Why, I'll do anything. Is it one of my gowns you want to borrow?"
"No, no. What extraordinary ideas you hare!"
"Oh, there you begin again," said Kitty. "I never can speak right. Well, what can I do for you, Elma?"
"If you could—just until next Monday—if you could lend me some—some money," said Elma, coloring as she spoke, her voice faltering, and her eyes seeking the ground.