A Pair of Schoolgirls: A Story of School Days Page 15

  CHAPTER XIV

  Water Plantain

  Dorothy returned to Avondale resolved to work doubly hard. There wascertainly plenty to be done if she did not wish to fall behind in herForm. She had missed many of the lessons, and to recover the ground thatshe had lost meant studying the textbooks by herself, and trying toassimilate endless pages of arrears.

  "Yet I must," she thought. "If I leave out the least scrap, that's sureto be the very piece I shall get in the exam. I'm going over everysingle line--though it's cruel translating Virgil and learning Racine insuch big doses. Never mind, Dorothy Greenfield, you've got to do it. Ishan't let you off, however much you hate it."

  Faithful to her determination, Dorothy set the alarum in her bedroom fora quarter to six, and had nearly an hour and a half's study each morningbefore Martha called her at 7.15. It was very tempting sometimes to turnover and go to sleep again; but she soon began to grow quite used to herearly rising, and it seemed almost a shame to stay in bed when the sunwas up, and the thrush was singing cheerily in the elder bush outside.

  A NURSING EXPERIENCE]

  The aim that Dorothy had in view was so ambitious that she hardly daredconfess it even to herself. Every year a prize was given at Avondalecalled the William Scott Memorial. It was thus named after the founderof the College, who had left a sum of money in his will for the purpose.It was awarded annually to the girl in any form who obtained the highestpercentage of marks in the examinations. Though it was generally gainedby members of the Sixth, it did not of necessity fall to them; everygirl had an equal opportunity, for it went entirely by their relativescores, the object being to distinguish the pupil who had worked thebest, irrespective of age.

  "I believe it fell once to the Second; but the Sixth have had it forfour years now," thought Dorothy. "Time for a new departure. I don'tsuppose I've the slightest ghost of a chance, but it's worth trying. Ishan't mention my hopes to anybody, though--not even to AuntBarbara--they're so remote."

  Her increased efforts could not fail to win notice, however, at theCollege.

  "Dorothy Greenfield, you're just swatting!" said Mavie Morris one day."I don't believe you'd a fault in your last German exercise, and yourecited all that Virgil without one single slip. What's come over you?"

  "Nothing," replied Dorothy, turning a little red. "You talk as if I'dbeen committing a crime."

  "So you have. You're raising the general average of the standard, andthat's not fair to the rest of the Form. When Pittie sees you with three'excellents' to your name, she thinks I ought to do the same."

  "Why can't you?"

  "Why? You ask me why? Do you think I'm going to muddle my brains morethan I can help, just in the middle of the tennis season? You littleknow Mavie Morris. No, Dorothy, I've a distinct grievance against you.There you are now--actually surreptitiously squinting at a book whileI'm talking to you!"

  "It's not a lesson book, at any rate; it's from the library," retortedDorothy.

  "Let me look at it. You humbug, it's a Manual of Botany! I call thatlessons, in all conscience."

  "Well, it has jolly coloured illustrations," said Dorothy, trying toplead extenuating circumstances. "I want to hunt out the names of somespecimens I've found. We have heaps of wild flowers growing in the lanesat Hurford."

  "Whitewashed, but not exonerated! Your manual smacks too much of schoolfor my taste. Why don't you take a leaf from me and practise tennis?"

  "No luck for such a bad server as I am."

  "Well, I didn't say you'd win the championship. I've no chance myselfagainst Val and Margaret. Here's Alison; she'll reason with you. Sheisn't on the rising balance of the Form any more than I am myself.Alison, tell Dorothy to quit this everlasting studying. Don't you agreewith me that it makes it far harder for us slackers?"

  Alison laughed good-naturedly. She never troubled much about her ownlessons, for her mother was generally so anxious regarding her health,and so afraid of her overworking herself, that an hour's preparationsufficed for her home work--and, indeed, if she took more, Mrs. Clarkewould threaten to complain to Miss Tempest.

  "Yes, Dorothy's turning into quite an old bookworm," she replied. "Sheeven insisted on looking over her Latin in the train this morning. Ican't stand that, because I always like to talk. I don't get too much ofDorothy's company."

  It was still a grievance to Alison that her mother would not sanctionany closer intimacy with her friend. She had hoped, after the visit toRingborough, that matters would be on a different footing, and that shewould be allowed to introduce Dorothy at home and invite her frequently.She could not understand why, for no apparently adequate reason, shemust be debarred from her society. The fact that she was discouragedfrom being on too familiar terms had the effect of making her even moreenthusiastic in her affection. There was a strong vein of obstinacy inher disposition, and if she once took up an idea she was apt to keep toit.

  "Uncle David likes Dorothy," she argued. "He told Mother not to beridiculous. I heard him say so. Perhaps in time I shall get my own way."

  Mrs. Clarke, anxious not to thwart her darling more than was necessary,had many times proposed that some other classmate from Avondale shouldbe asked to Lindenlea. But Alison had flatly refused.

  "I can't possibly have Grace Russell or Ruth Harmon without invitingDorothy. She'd think it most peculiar and unkind. No, Mother dearest, ifI mayn't have her I'd rather not ask anybody at all."

  "But you ought to have young companions, Birdie," protested Mrs. Clarkefretfully. "Your uncle was speaking to me on that very subject before hewent to Scotland; and he is your guardian, so he is partly responsiblefor you. I believe I shall have to send you to a boarding school afterall."

  "No, no; I should be miserable, and so would you without me. I'd hate toleave the Coll. Don't worry, Motherkins, Uncle David shan't lecture you.Naughty fellow! I won't be friends with him if he hints at boardingschool again."

  "I shall certainly talk it over with him when he returns from Lochaber,"said Mrs. Clarke.

  "When is he coming back? Is he really going to take a house near here,Mother?"

  "I don't know. He may possibly settle in the South, in which case Ishould certainly decide to remove, and to go and live near him."

  "Oh, please no! I don't want to leave Latchworth or the Coll.,"protested Alison.

  Alison was indeed absolutely happy at Avondale. For a day school thearrangements were perfect, and there were many features of the coursethere which suited her tastes. She liked the Ambulance Guild and theTennis Club, and both the gymnasium and the laboratory were large andspecially well equipped, far more so than in most boarding schools. Thisterm, also, Miss Carter, the science mistress, had begun a veryinteresting series of Nature Study lessons, which included birds andinsects, and made a special point of botany; and Alison, who adoredflowers, threw herself into it heart and soul. It was the one subjectover which she really gave herself much trouble. She collected specimensand pressed them, identified them from the big volumes of "Sowerby" inthe library at Lindenlea, mounted them on sheets of cardboard, andprinted their names neatly underneath.

  "I shall have something to send to the Arts and Crafts Exhibition," shesaid, "though I'm no good at anything else."

  "No good! Fiddlesticks!" exclaimed Dorothy.

  "True, my dear! Have you ever seen me top at an exam., or even second?Why, I only get 'excellent' once in a blue moon, and then I'm soastonished, I think it must be a mistake! I'm not picked out to play atschool concerts, or recite, or act, or show off in any way. Oh, don'tthink I'm complaining! I don't crave for notoriety. There's nothing Idetest worse than having to perform in public. But pressed flowers aredifferent. I can do them in private at home, and let them be seenwithout exhibiting myself. I wish I could find a few more specimens. Ibelieve I've picked everything that's to be had at Latchworth."

  "Miss Carter promised she'd take us a botanizing ramble some afternoon,"said Dorothy.

  "So she did. We must keep her to her word. Let us try to catch her nowin
the corridor, and see if we can get her to name a definite day. AskMavie and Grace to come too. They're the keenest next to us."

  The little group of enthusiasts waylaid the mistress as she came out ofthe library, and, reminding her of the projected expedition, nailed herto the point.

  "Very well, we will decide on next Saturday afternoon, provided, ofcourse, that it's a fine day," replied Miss Carter.

  "And the place?" asked Alison.

  "I think we can't do better than Beechfield. We could walk along theembankment to Longacre, and take the train back from there. We ought tofind plenty of flowers on the way."

  "And we might stop and have tea somewhere," suggested Alison, who wasdetermined to make an outing of it.

  "Yes, so we might. There's an inn by the river about half-way toLongacre, and several cottages that cater for visitors."

  "We can start quite early, I suppose?"

  "I'll look up the railway guide, and pin a programme on the notice boardto-morrow."

  "There, you see!" said Alison, as the deputation returned in triumph,"there's nothing like sticking to a thing. I believe in people keepingpromises when they make them."

  "We shall have a ripping afternoon. Miss Carter is ever so jolly."

  "And I expect she'll be jollier still when she's 'off duty'."

  Notwithstanding the tempting nature of the programme, only ten put downtheir names for the botanizing expedition. In summer there were manydiversions for Saturday's holiday--the tennis season was in full swing,and the girls had attractions at their own homes that outweighed acountry ramble.

  "It's far nicer without too many," declared Alison. "I've been schoolexcursions before, at Leamstead, and it's generally so hard to geteverybody to come along. Half the party is always lagging behind, andthen a dozen come running up and want all the explanations over again,just when the mistress has finished describing something. You waste animmense amount of time in collecting people. I mean to stick to MissCarter like glue the whole afternoon."

  "Absorbing information like a piece of blotting-paper!" laughed Mavie."Quite a new character for you, Alison Clarke."

  "Don't mock. You're as keen on going as I am myself."

  The ten Nature students met Miss Carter at Coleminster station athalf-past two on the Saturday, and started off for Beechfield, which wason a different line from Hurford and Latchworth. Neither Dorothy norAlison knew the place, so to them at least it had the charm of novelty.

  "I've often walked over the fields to Longacre," said Grace Russell,"but I don't mind going again. It will seem fresh if we're looking forflowers. I like an object when I'm out."

  "And I like the fun of being out, object or no object," said Mavie. "Ihonestly confess I'm looking forward to tea-time."

  "You shameless materialist!" said Miss Carter. "You shan't have a singlecup unless you can name a dozen flowers. I shall put you through anexamination first."

  "I'll be attentive--with tea as my goal."

  There was no doubt about it--Miss Carter was jolly. She talked and jokedas merrily as the girls themselves, climbed stiles with agility, and,much to her pupils' amusement, exhibited an abject terror of cows.

  "It was born in me, and I can't conquer it," she declared. "I supposeit's partly because I'm town-bred. The very sight of their horns puts mein a panic."

  "I'll walk along first and shoo them away with my umbrella," saidDorothy, laughing.

  "What heroism! I really envy your courage. To me the pleasures of botanyare sadly spoilt by cows; there is invariably one in the meadow where Iwant to pick my best specimens."

  In spite of her real or pretended fears, Miss Carter ventured to takethe path which led over the fields to Longacre. It was a pretty walk,partly through a park shaded with beautiful trees, and partly along anembankment which formed the remains of an ancient fortification againstthe Danes. The hay was still uncut, so the fields were full of flowers,and without unduly trespassing into the long grass the girls were ableto pick many specimens. Alison kept to her intention of sticking to MissCarter, and scarcely left her side; she enjoyed the explanations, andpassed them on to Mavie, who was collecting her dozen plants withostentatious zeal. Dorothy was told off as policeman to bring upstragglers.

  "We shall never get there at all if you can't keep together and comealong," said Miss Carter. "I can see a little peep of the river, and onechimney of the inn over there in the distance. Don't you feel inclinedfor tea?"

  "Rather!" agreed the girls, making a spurt.

  The inn was one of those small, wayside places common in ruraldistricts. It catered for anglers and tourists, and had a pretty,flowery garden, set with wooden benches and tables ready for picnicparties. It was a suitable spot for a halt; everyone felt warm with thewalk, and disposed to welcome the sight of cups and saucers.

  "How sweet it is here!" said Alison to Dorothy. "Something smellsperfectly delicious--I don't know what."

  "I think it must be honeysuckle down by the river."

  "Then let us go and see. It's rather early for honeysuckle; I haven'tfound any out yet. It might perhaps be a sweetbrier. Tea isn't quiteready, so we shall have plenty of time."

  The two girls strolled out of the garden and down a short lane that ledto the river. It was beautiful there--the grassy banks were white withtall, lacy, umbelliferous plants, and groups of willows drooped theirpicturesque, shimmering boughs over the water.

  "Look at the old weir," said Alison. "I believe there used to be a millhere once, only it isn't working now. Dorothy, what's that growing inthe river? Isn't it water plantain?"

  "It looks uncommonly like it."

  "I must have a piece--I positively must! How can we get some? Do youthink we could walk along the edge of the weir and reach it? It's only afew yards off."

  "I dare say we might, if we could hold on to those willows."

  "Let us try. Give me your hand."

  "It's rather slippery," said Dorothy, as she essayed to follow.

  Catching on to the branches of a willow, the two girls steppedcautiously along the uncovered stones at the edge of the weir towardsthe spot where the water plantain was growing so temptingly.

  "There's a splendid piece almost within reach," said Alison. "Sticktight to my hand, Dorothy, and I'll bend over. I'm within an inch ofit."

  "Be careful!" exclaimed Dorothy. "Don't pull!"

  But her warning came too late. Alison, in her effort to grasp theplantain, put her weight on her friend, and to support the strainDorothy leaned backwards. Alison, snatching a piece of the flower,suddenly released the tension; the pair swayed for an instant,overbalanced, and then slipped, shrieking, down the sloping side of theweir.