The Nicest Girl in the School: A Story of School Life Read online

  CHAPTER III

  First Impressions

  Patty certainly felt anything but cheerful as she stood at the top ofthe steps to watch her father and mother drive away, though she put on abrave face, and waved a vigorous farewell.

  "They've only just time to catch their train," she said, turning toMuriel. "I hope the man will go fast. It would be so tiresome for themto miss it."

  "Why aren't they staying all night at the Queen's Hotel?" asked Muriel."Father and Mother always do when they come to see me and so do most ofthe girls' friends."

  "Father wouldn't be able to spare the time," said Patty, thinkingprivately that the expense would also be a consideration, though she didnot say that aloud. "He must get home to look after his patients, youknow. Mr. Barnes, our new assistant, isn't very clever, and severalpeople are seriously ill, and can't be left long."

  Muriel shrugged her shoulders.

  "I wouldn't mention they'd brought you, then," she replied. "It'sconsidered the correct thing for one's parents to stay at the Queen's,and the girls will think it so queer if yours haven't. What bedroom areyou in?"

  "No. 7. I hope it's a nice one?"

  "Oh, tolerable! Not so nice as mine. I'm in No. 16, on the otherlanding, with three of my best friends."

  "Do you know who's in my room?"

  "Nobody at all particular; only May Firth, Ella Johnson, and DorisKennedy. Do you see that new girl crossing the quad? I believe she comesfrom our part of the world. She was starting too when I was setting off;they nearly put her in my carriage, only luckily the guard had lockedthe door."

  "What's her name? I don't remember seeing her at Waverton."

  "I daresay not. Her name's Jean Bannerman, and she lives in one of thosehouses at the end of the park. I met her once at a party, but we don'tknow them at all."

  "Does she seem nice?"

  "I'm sure I can't tell. I wasn't much impressed with her. Have youunpacked?"

  "No, not yet. My box hasn't been brought upstairs."

  "It's there now. I saw John carrying it to your room. I should thinkyou'd better go and take your things out."

  "Won't you come with me, Muriel?" asked Patty, rather shyly. "I don'tknow where I'm expected to put my clothes."

  "Haven't time," said Muriel, shaking her head. "I've got all my own todo. It's easy enough; you've only to pop them into your drawers and yourwardrobe. Supper's at seven in the refectory. Why, there's GwendolenFarmer. I simply must go and speak to her. Ta-ta!"

  And Muriel ran away to the other side of the quadrangle, leaving Pattystanding alone upon the steps.

  Thus suddenly deserted, the latter watched for a moment to see if hercousin meant to come back, but Muriel, after greeting the newcomer withmuch affection, linked her arm in hers, and without even turning herhead to look round, walked through a doorway opposite, and was lost tosight. Patty went upstairs to her cubicle with a rather sore feeling inher heart, against which she made a violent effort to struggle. Afterall, she argued to herself, it was only natural that Muriel, who musthave so many friends in the school, should be so anxious to see them allagain after the long summer holidays. She would no doubt be waiting inthe refectory to show her to her seat, and would then, perhaps,introduce her to a few special companions. She could not mean absolutelyto ignore her, and it was absurd to take offence needlessly.

  "I'm her own relation, and she surely can't forget that," thought Patty."She's busy now, but she'll be nicer to me later on."

  Each bedroom at The Priory was divided into four cubicles by means ofcurtains hung on brass rods, and each cubicle contained its own littlebed, chest of drawers, washstand, and small wardrobe. Patty was luckyenough to have a window that looked out over the playing fields,otherwise her division was exactly the same as the rest. The three otheroccupants appeared to have already unpacked: their nightdress cases werelaid on their beds, their sponges on their washstands, various photoframes, books, and ornaments adorned their dressing-tables, and theircurtains were drawn back, as was the rule when the cubicles were notoccupied, to allow a free current of air through the room. Pattyunlocked her box, and set to work to arrange her various possessions,placing the photo of the family group, which had been a parting presentfrom home, in a prominent position, and trying to stifle the longing tosee all the dear, familiar faces again. The nightdress case, which shehad thought so beautiful when she was packing, looked quite plain andordinary by the side of the three elaborately worked ones on the otherbeds. She had certainly nothing so dainty as the pale-pink, quilted silkdressing-gown that she could see hanging on a peg behind the door, nordid she possess cut-glass scent bottles, such as stood on thedressing-table in the cubicle opposite; nevertheless Patty put herthings away with a certain pride of ownership, and when all was neatlyfinished, glanced round her new quarters with much satisfaction. It wasscarcely six o'clock, and supper was not until seven, so she decided togo downstairs again on the chance of finding Muriel, who by this timemust surely have finished her own unpacking. She waited in the hall fora few minutes, not quite knowing what to do, until a mistress, hurryingby, noticed her standing there, and directed her to the recreation room.Here a number of girls appeared to be collected: a pair of bosom friendsoccupied one window, and five pigtails in close proximity took upanother; by the empty fire grate a group of four stood talkingphotography with a short fat girl in spectacles, seated on the edge ofthe table; while others were continually passing in and out to announcetheir own arrival, or to search for absent companions. Several glancedat Patty, but nobody spoke to her, or paid any particular attention, soshe walked over to the sofa, and taking a book which she found there,sat idly turning the pages without reading them, and feeling veryuncomfortable and extremely homesick. Everybody in the room, shethought, seemed talking, laughing, and joking with everyone else, andshe was the only stranger amongst them. No, she was mistaken. There wasone girl as solitary as herself, sitting on the music stool, and turningover a pile of old pieces and songs that lay on the top of the piano.She was an interesting-looking girl, with good features, grey eyes withvery long dark lashes, a clear pale complexion, as creamy as if it hadbeen bathed in milk, and light-brown hair that curled charmingly roundher forehead. She did not appear to find her occupation very absorbing,for she glanced every now and then in Patty's direction, and finally,putting the music back on the piano, came quietly across the room andsat down beside her on the sofa.

  "I suppose you're new, aren't you?" she said. "So am I. We seem ratherout of it at present, don't we? Do you know any of these girls?"

  "No," replied Patty, "not one of them. I've only just come a littlewhile ago."

  "Yes, I saw your cab drive up. I arrived by the earlier train, so I'vehad more time to get used to it. I can't say I like it at all yet,though. To tell you the truth, I don't mind confessing I'd giveeverything in the world to find myself at home again."

  This was so exactly Patty's present state of mind, that she felt itestablished a bond of sympathy at once with her companion, andencouraged her sufficiently to enquire her name.

  "Jean Bannerman," said the girl, "and I'm almost fifteen. What's yours?"

  "Patty Hirst, and I shall be fourteen in October."

  "Then I'm nearly a year older than you, for my birthday's in November.Which bedroom are you in?"

  "No. 7."

  "I'm in No. 10. I don't know what my room mates are like yet. I hopethey're nice. I wish you had been one of them. It seems so horrid wheneverything and everybody are strange. Isn't it dreadfully noisy here?Suppose we go into the courtyard for a little while. It's quite lightyet, and I see ever so many girls out there. Do you know your way aboutthe school?"

  "Yes--no--yes," replied Patty, hesitatingly.

  "Which do you mean?" asked Jean, smiling.

  "I mean 'yes'," said Patty. "A teacher showed us round, but I'm afraid Ididn't take very much notice, because, you see, Father and Mother werejust leaving, and I----"

  Jean gave a nod of comprehension.

  "Then
we'll go and explore," she said. "There don't seem to be anyparticular rules nor any preparation the first evening. Everybody isunpacking, and I think we may do as we like until supper. Come along!"

  Nothing loth, Patty rose and joined her companion. She was anxious tosee something of the new life into which she had been launched, and shelooked with curiosity round the large quadrangle, which appeared atpresent to be the central heart of the school. Here girls of agesvarying from thirteen to eighteen were assembled, comparing holidayexperiences, examining each other's tennis rackets or hockey sticks,passing jokes, or eagerly enquiring for news on various class topics. ToPatty it seemed almost bewildering to see so many school-fellows, andshe wondered whether it would ever become possible to learn todistinguish their various faces, and to call each one by her right name.

  "I suppose we shall get to know them in time," she said, "but it will beconfusing at first. Do you notice that some of the big girls wearbadges? I wonder what that means?"

  "Let us ask somebody," said Jean, glancing round to see if there wereanyone near to whom she might venture to address her enquiry. "That fairgirl sitting on the bench over there looks nice; I'm sure she would tellus. I don't think she's new, because she was talking to some of theothers a minute ago."

  Patty turned in the direction indicated, and recognized thefellow-traveller who had wept so copiously in the train, and whom hercompanions had called Avis. Her tears were dried, but she still appearedpensive. She held a blotter on her knee, and with a fountain pen wasevidently already beginning a letter home. She put it aside when Jeanspoke to her, and answered pleasantly:

  "Of course I can tell you. The badges are worn by the prefects. They'rethe six top girls, and they're supposed to keep order. It's a tremendoushonour to be a prefect. Phyllis Chambers is head of the school thisyear. We're all glad, because she's so jolly, and she was our tennischampion last summer. There she is!--that girl in the grey dress. Shewon us four matches against other schools. We were so proud of her."

  "Isn't she champion now?"

  "We don't play tennis this term; it's all hockey. I think Mabel Morganis better at that. You'll both be in the lower school team, of course.Do you know what classes you're in?"

  "Not yet," said Patty. "There's to be an exam. to-morrow morning. I'mafraid I shan't be very high up."

  "Oh, you may do better than you expect. Exams. are such a chance. It'sjust whether you happen to get a nice set of questions or not. I wonderif you'll be in my class. I'm in the upper fourth, Miss Harper's."

  "Is she nice?"

  "Well, some adore her, and some don't care for her at all. It depends agood deal on yourself. She likes the ones who work, but she can bedreadfully sarcastic if she thinks you're stupid or lazy. She'sfearfully clever, and says such witty things sometimes. Half-a-dozen ofthe girls absolutely worship her, but she's very fair, and won't havefavourites. I like her better than Miss Rowe."

  "Who is she?"

  "The second mistress in our class. You see, the fourth is in twodivisions, an upper and a lower; we do a few lessons together and someseparately. Miss Harper takes history and literature, and what I callthe more interesting things, and Miss Rowe takes arithmetic andanalysis, and looks after our preparation. There are twenty girlsaltogether, counting both divisions. It's the largest class in theschool. There are only ten in the fifth."

  "Which is the nicest teacher of all?" asked Jean.

  "I think most of us like Miss Latimer best, the games mistress. She'svery popular with everybody. You see, we always have such fun atgymnastics, and of course we love hockey and cricket. She teaches usswimming too, but that's only during the summer term. There's the bell!We must go in to supper. Do you know your way to the refectory? We allsettle places on the first evening, so it's rather exciting. Perhapsyou'd like to come with me?"

  Patty would have replied in the affirmative, but at that moment shehappened to notice Muriel crossing the quadrangle, as she thought, insearch of her, and saying she had better wait, she allowed Jean and Avisto go indoors without her. She was perfectly certain that Muriel musthave seen her, but, greatly to her surprise, her cousin turned aside andclaimed acquaintance with a chestnut-haired girl, with whom she hastenedinto the house without bestowing a look in Patty's direction. The greatclanging bell was still ringing in the tower over the gymnasium, andgroups of girls came hurrying towards the refectory from all parts ofthe building.

  "Be quick, my dear," said a teacher, passing Patty, and noticing herhesitation. "Everyone is going to supper. Come with me, and I will finda place for you."

  Patty followed, rather nervous, but thankful that somebody would showher where she must sit. The refectory was almost full when they entered.It was a large room, with a groined roof like a church, andstained-glass windows at either side. A long table occupied the entirelength, and at one end was a raised dais, with another table for themistresses. It resembled in this respect the hall of a college, and wasa subject of great pride to Miss Lincoln, who liked to think that theschool had its meals in the same place where the old monks had dined sixhundred years ago. Muriel was seated towards the centre of the table,chatting to several friends in whose company she seemed entirelyabsorbed. There was evidently no room in her vicinity, and the teachermoved farther along and found a place for Patty nearer the end. She wasbetween two girls rather older than herself, neither of whom spoke toher. One appeared to be in an uncommunicative frame of mind, andanswered abruptly when a neighbour asked her a question, and the otherwas occupied with a conversation with two schoolmates at the oppositeside of the table. Patty ate her supper, therefore, in silence, feelingexceedingly shy, and very much hurt that her cousin should have treatedher so unkindly. On her first evening common politeness would havesuggested that Muriel might have sought her out and introduced her to afew other girls, instead of leaving her thus friendless and forlorn.Even Jean and Avis were too far away to speak to, and she was yet anabsolute outsider to everyone else. There is nothing more solitary thanto feel oneself alone in a crowd, and the tears rose to poor Patty'seyes at the remembrance of the nursery at home, where the little oneswould just have gone to bed, and Milly and Robin would be learning theirlessons for the next day.

  When the meal was over, the whole school adjourned to the lecture-roomto listen to an opening speech from Miss Lincoln, who usually began theterm with an address to her pupils. The singing class sang a few glees,and there was a recitation by one of the prefects; after that cameprayers, and then it was bedtime. Patty was escorted to No. 7 by thesame teacher who had taken her to the refectory, and who, she learnt,was Miss Rowe, the second mistress of the fourth class. The curtains ofthe other cubicles were closely drawn, so she did not catch a glimpse ofher companions, and as all conversation was strictly forbidden, the roomwas in silence. Patty went to bed in the very lowest of spirits. It hadnot seemed a favourable beginning to her school life, and unless thingsimproved a little she was sure she could never be happy.

  "I suppose I must try and make the best of it," she thought; "and onething I'm determined about, however wretched I feel, I'm not going towrite miserable letters home and upset Mother. She wanted me so much tolike The Priory, so I won't let her know, even if nobody ever does talkto me or be nice. There are eighty-nine days before I can go back, andthis is one off, at any rate. I expect they'll go by somehow, though Iwish I could skip them all, and this were the last day of the terminstead of only the first."