A Pair of Schoolgirls: A Story of School Days Read online

  A PAIR OF SCHOOLGIRLS

  CHAPTER I

  A School Election

  It was precisely five minutes past eleven on the first day of the autumnterm, and Avondale College, which for seven whole weeks had been lonelyand deserted, and given over to the tender mercies of paperhangers,painters, and charwomen, once more presented its wonted aspect of lifeand bustle. The reopening was a very important event in the opinion ofeverybody concerned, partly because it marked the beginning of a freshschool year, and partly because the building had been altered andenlarged, many changes made in the curriculum, and many new names addedto the already long list in the register. Three hundred and eighty-sevenpupils had assembled that morning in the great lecture hall, the largestnumber on record at the College; five additional classes had beenformed, and there were six extra mistresses. At the eleven o'clockinterval the place seemed swarming with girls; they thronged thestaircase and passages, filled the pantry, blocked the dressing-rooms,and overflowed into the playground and the gymnasium--girls of all sortsand descriptions, from the ten-year-olds who had just come up (rathersolemn and overawed) from the Preparatory to those elect and superiordamsels of seventeen who were studying for their Matriculation.

  By the empty stove in the Juniors' Common Room stood half a dozen"betwixt-and-betweens", whose average age probably worked out atfourteen and a quarter, though Mavie Morris was a giantess compared withlittle Ruth Harmon. The six heads were bent together in closestproximity, and the six tongues were particularly active, for after thelong summer holidays there was such a vast amount to talk about that itseemed almost impossible to discuss all the interesting items of newswith sufficient rapidity.

  "The old Coll. looks no end," said Grace Russell. "It's so smart andspanky now--one hardly knows it! Pictures in the classrooms, flowers onthe chimneypieces, a stained glass window in the lecture hall, busts onbrackets all along the corridor wall, and the studio floor polished!Every single place has been done up from top to bottom."

  "I'd like it better if it didn't smell so abominably of new paint,"objected Noelle Kennedy. "When I opened the studio door, the varnishstuck to my fingers. However, the school certainly looks much nicer.Why, even the book cupboard has been repapered."

  "That's because you splashed ink on the wall last term. Don't youremember how fearfully cross Miss Hardy was about it?"

  "Rather! She insisted that I'd done it on purpose, and couldn't andwouldn't believe it was an accident. Well, thank goodness we've donewith her! I'm glad teachers don't move up with their forms. I'm of theopposite opinion to Hamlet, and I'd rather face the evils that I don'tknow than those I do. Miss Pitman can't possibly be any worse, and shemay chance to be better."

  "I say, it's rather a joke our being in the Upper Fourth now, isn't it?"remarked Ruth Harmon.

  "I'm glad we've all gone up together," said Dorothy Greenfield. "There'sonly Marjory Poulton left behind, and she won't be missed. We're exactlythe same old set, with the addition of a few new girls."

  "Do you realize," said Mavie Morris, "that we're the top class in theLower School now, and that one of us will be chosen Warden? There'll bean election this afternoon."

  "Why, so there will! What a frantic excitement! We shall all have tocanvass in the dinner-hour. I wonder if Miss Tempest has put up thelist of candidates yet? I vote we go to the notice board and see;there's just time before the bell rings."

  Off scrambled the girls at once, pushing and jostling one another intheir eagerness to get to the lecture hall. There was a crowd collectedround the notice board, but they elbowed their way to the frontnotwithstanding. Yes, the list was there, in the head mistress's ownhandwriting, and they scanned it with varying comments of joy ordisappointment, according as their names were present or absent.

  "Hurrah!"

  "Disgusting!"

  "No luck for me!"

  "I don't call it fair!"

  "You're on, Dorothy Greenfield, and so am I."

  "I say, girls, which of you'll promise to vote for me?"

  Avondale College was a large day school. Its pupils were drawn from allparts of Coleminster and the surrounding district, many coming in bytrain or tramcar, and some on bicycles. Under the headmistress-ship ofMiss Tempest its numbers had increased so rapidly that extraaccommodation had become necessary; and not only had the lecture halland dressing-rooms been enlarged, but an entire new wing had been addedto the building. Avondale prided itself greatly upon its institutions.It is not always easy for a day school to have the same corporate lifeas a boarding school; but Miss Tempest, in spite of this difficulty, hadmanaged to inaugurate a spirit of union among her pupils, and to makethem work together for the general good of the community. She wished theCollege to be, not merely a place where textbooks were studied, but acentral point of light on every possible subject. She encouraged thegirls to have many interests outside the ordinary round of lessons, andby the help of various self-governing societies to learn to be goodcitizens, and to play an intelligent and active part in the progress ofthe world. A Nature Study Union, a Guild of Arts and Crafts, a DebatingClub, a Dramatic Circle, and a School Magazine all flourished atAvondale. The direction of these societies was in the hands of a selectcommittee chosen from the Fifth and Sixth Forms, but in order that theyounger girls might be represented, a member of the Upper Fourth waselected each year as "Warden of the Lower School", and was privileged toattend some of the meetings, and to speak on behalf of the interests ofthe juniors.

  Naturally this post was an exceedingly coveted honour: the girl who heldit became the delegate and mouthpiece of the lower forms, anacknowledged authority, and the general leader of the rest. It was thecustom to elect the warden by ballot on the afternoon of the reopeningday. Six candidates were selected by Miss Tempest, and these were votedfor by the members of the several divisions of the Third and FourthForms.

  Among the six chosen for this election, none was more excited about herpossible chances than Dorothy Greenfield, and as our story centres roundher and her doings she merits a few words of description. She was atall, slim, rather out-of-the-common-looking girl, and though at presentshe was passing through the ugly duckling stage, she had several goodpoints, which might develop into beauty later on. Her large dark greyeyes, with their straight, well-marked brows, made you forgive hernondescript nose. She lacked colour, certainly, but her complexion wasclear, and, despite her rather thin cheeks, the outline of her face wasdecidedly pleasing. Her mouth was neat and firm, and her chin square;and she had a quantity of wavy, fluffy brown hair that had anobstreperous way of escaping from its ribbon and hanging over her ears.During the past six months Dorothy had shot up like Jack's beanstalk,and she was still growing fast--an awkward process, which involved acertain angularity of both body and mind. She was apt to do things byfits and starts; she formed hot attachments or took violent prejudices;she was amiable or irritable according to her mood, and though capableof making herself most attractive, could flash out with a sharp retortif anybody offended her. She had a favourable report in the school: shewas generally among those marked "excellent" in her form, and she wasabove the average at hockey and tennis, had played a piano solo at theannual concert, won "highly commended" at the Arts and CraftsExhibition, and contributed an article to the School Magazine.

  Possessing such a good all-round record, therefore, Dorothy might haveas reasonable a possibility of success as anybody else at the comingelection, and she could not help letting her hopes run high. The ballotwas to be taken at half-past three, which left little time forcanvassing; but she meant to do the best for herself that circumstanceswould allow. She was a day boarder, so, when morning classes were over,she strolled into the Juniors' Common Room to discuss her chances.Already some papers were pinned up claiming attention for the variouscandidates:

  "Vote for Val Barnett, the hockey champion."

  "Hope Lawson begs all her friends to support her in the comingelection."

  "Grace Russell solicits the favour of your votes."

&
nbsp; "Noelle Kennedy relies upon the kindness of the Lower School."

  "Hallo, Dorothy!" said Mavie Morris. "Aren't you going to add your quotato the general lot? All the others are getting up their appeals. I wishMiss Tempest had put me on the list of likelies!"

  "I can't think why she didn't," replied Dorothy. "I should say you'refar more suitable than Noelle Kennedy."

  "Why, so do I, naturally. But there! it can't be helped. I'm not amongthe elect, so I must just grin and bear it. Is this your appeal? Let melook."

  She seized the piece of paper from Dorothy's hand, and, scanning iteagerly, read the following lines:

  Ye voters at the school election, I beg you'll look in my direction; I hate to boast and brag, but yet For once I'm blowing my own trumpet. Now don't you think in me you'd find A candidate suited to your mind? No bookworm I, but fond of sports, Hockey or games of other sorts; At acting I can run the show, And play my part, as well you know. At meetings all your wants I'd state, And make a speech at the debate. I'd back in all scholastic storms The interests of the Lower Forms. A zealous leader I should be, So when you vote, please remember me! I hope these verses you will pardon, And choose me for the Lower School Warden.

  "What do you think of it?" asked Dorothy. "I made it up during thehistory lesson, and wrote it on my knee under the desk. One wantssomething rather different from other people's, and I thought perhaps noone else would have a rhyming address."

  "It's not bad," commented Mavie, "but you do brag."

  "I've apologized for it. One must state one's qualifications, or what'sthe use of being a candidate? Look at Val's notice--she calls herselfthe hockey champion."

  "No one takes Val too seriously. I don't believe she's the ghost of achance, though she did win the cup last season. One needs more than thatfor a warden; brains count as well as muscles."

  "I know; that's why I tried poetry."

  "Please don't call that stuff poetry. Half of the lines won't scan."

  There was a pucker between Dorothy's dark eyebrows as she snatched backher literary bantling.

  "I don't suppose that matters. Everybody isn't so viper-critical," sheretorted. "Shall I pin it up here or in the gym.?"

  "It will be more seen here; but I warn you, Dorothy, I don't think thegirls will like it."

  "Why not?"

  "Well, it's clever enough, but it's cheeky. I'm afraid somehow it won'tcatch on. If you take my advice, you'll tear it up and just write 'Votefor Dorothy Greenfield' instead."

  But taking other people's advice was not at present included inDorothy's scheme of existence; she much preferred her own ideas, howevercrude.

  "I'll leave it as it is," she answered loftily. "It can't fail toattract attention anyhow."

  "As you like. By the by, if you're going round canvassing, there's beena new----"

  But Dorothy did not wait to listen. She was annoyed at Mavie's scantappreciation of her poetic effort; and having manifested herindependence by pinning the offending verses on the notice board, shestalked away, trying to look nonchalant. She was determined to use everymeans at hand to ensure success, and her best plan seemed to be to goround personally soliciting votes.

  "I'll tackle the dinner girls now," she thought, "and I expect there'llbe just time to catch the others when they come back in the afternoon.Thank goodness the election is only among the Third and Fourth! It wouldbe terrible if one had to go all round the school. Why, I never askedMavie! How stupid! But she's certain to be on my side; she detests Val,and she's not particularly fond of Hope either, though of course there'sGrace. Had I better go back and make sure of her?"

  On the whole she decided that as she had left Mavie in rather a high andmighty manner, it would seem a little beneath her dignity to return atonce and beg a favour, so she went into the playground instead to beatup possible electors. She was not the first in the field, by any means.Already Valentine Barnett and her satellites were hard at work coaxingand wheedling, while the emissaries of Doris Earnshaw and Noelle Kennedywere urging the qualifications of their particular favourites. HopeLawson was seated on the see-saw in company with a number of small girlsfrom the Lower Second.

  "What's she doing that for?" thought Dorothy. "Those kids haven't gotvotes. It's sheer waste of time to bother with them. She's actually puther arm round that odious little Maggie Muir, and taken Nell Boughton onher knee! I shouldn't care to make myself so cheap. I suppose she'sletting Blanche Hall and Irene Jackson do her canvassing for her."

  Dorothy was, however, too much occupied with her own affairs to concernherself greatly about her neighbours' movements. To put her claimsadequately before each separate elector was no mean task, and time fledall too quickly. She used what powers of persuasion she possessed, andflattered herself that she had made an impression in some quarters; butvery few of the girls would give any definite promises. Many of them,especially those of the Middle and Lower Thirds, seemed to enjoy theimportance of owning something which it was in their power to withhold.

  "I'm waiting till I've heard what you all six have to say foryourselves," said Kitty Palgrave condescendingly. "I shan't make up mymind until the very last minute."

  "It's so difficult to choose between you," added Ellie Simpson, a pertlittle person of twelve.

  Their tone verged on the offensive, and in any other circumstancesDorothy would have administered a snub. As it was, she pocketed herpride, and merely said she hoped they would remember her. She heard themsnigger as she turned away, and longed to go back and shake them; butdiscretion prevailed.

  "One has to put up with this sort of thing if one wants to get returnedWarden," she reflected. "All the same, it's sickening to be obliged totruckle to young idiots like that."

  She had not by any means found all the possible voters, so she decidedto return to the Juniors' Common Room. Mavie had gone, but a number ofother girls stood near the notice board talking, and reading the appealsof the various candidates. Dorothy strolled up to see how her verseswere being received. They made a different impression on differentminds, to judge from the comments that met her ears.

  "It's ripping!" exclaimed Bertha Warren.

  "Says she can run the show, does she?" sneered Joyce Hickson.

  "I call it just lovely!" gushed Addie Parker.

  "Her trumpeter's dead, certainly!" giggled Phyllis Fowler. "Hallo,Dorothy! I didn't see you were there."

  "I'm going to vote for you, Dorothy," said Bertha, "and so is Addie.Phyllis has promised Hope, and Joyce is on Val's side. If you like, I'llcanvass for you here, while you do the gym. You'd better not waste anytime, because the others are hard at it, and it's best to get firstinnings if you can."

  Dorothy hastily agreed, and hurried off to the gymnasium, where she wasfortunate enough to catch some of her own classmates. They were allsucking enormous peppermint "humbugs", and were almost speechless inconsequence; but they had the politeness to listen to her, which wasmore than she had experienced from some of the girls.

  "Very sorry!" replied Annie Gray, talking with difficulty. "You shouldhave asked us sooner. Val's been round, and simply coerced us."

  "She made it a hockey versus lacrosse contest, and of course we plumpedfor hockey," murmured Elsie Bellamy.

  "Val's simply ripping at hockey!"

  "Is that all you care for?" exclaimed Dorothy scornfully. "Val hasnothing else to recommend her."

  "Hasn't she? What about peppermint 'humbugs'? I call them a verysubstantial recommendation."

  "Did Val give you those?"

  "Rather! She put on her hat and bolted out into High Street and bought awhole pound. Lucky Miss James didn't catch her as she dodged back!"

  "She's handing them round to everybody," added Helen Walker. "I wish Ihad taken two."

  For once Dorothy's pale cheeks put on a colour. She could not restrainher indignation.

  "How atrociously and abominably mean!" she burst out. "Why, it's justbribery, pure and simple. I didn't think Val was ca
pable of such asneaking trick. She knows quite well how unfair it is to the rest ofus."

  "Why, you could have done the same if you'd liked," laughed Elsie. "It'snot too late now. I've a preference for caramels, if you ask me."

  "I'd be ashamed!" declared Dorothy. "Surely you ought to give your voteson better grounds than 'humbugs' or caramels? Such a thing has neverbeen done before at the Coll."

  "All the more loss for us," giggled Helen flippantly.

  "Do you mean to tell me you don't care whether a candidate behavesdishonourably or not?"

  "Not I, if she's jolly."

  "I'm disgusted with you, absolutely disgusted! If you haven't a higherideal of what's required in a warden, you don't deserve to have votes atall."

  "Draw it mild, Dorothy!" chirped Elsie.

  "I won't. I'll tell you what I think of you: you're a set of greedythings! There isn't one of you with a spark of public spirit, and if theelection is going to be run on these lines, I----"

  But Dorothy's tirade was interrupted by the dinner bell; and the objectsof her scorn, hastily swallowing the offending peppermints, decamped ata run, leaving her to address a group of empty chairs. She followed moreleisurely, fuming as she went. She knew she had been foolish and mostundiplomatic to lose her temper so utterly, but the words had rushed outbefore she could stop them.

  "They wouldn't have voted for me in any case," she said to herself, "soit really doesn't matter, after all, they're only a minority. I expectit will prove a very even affair, perhaps a draw, and that no one willhave a complete walk-over."