The Manor House School (18 page)

"Capital!" agreed Cicely.

It took a little scheming to arrange their plan satisfactorily. They were much afraid lest Scott should do his watering earlier than usual, and greatly relieved when they ran out after preparation to find him only just beginning to uncoil his hose. He used a small tank on wheels, which he generally left on the gravel walk outside the kitchen-garden, bringing the indiarubber tubing through the hedge.

To the girls' extreme annoyance, Marjorie Butler spied them, and, coming up, insisted upon reading aloud to them a letter she had received that morning from a sailor cousin. Would she never go away? It was too tiresome of her to confide in them at such an inappropriate time.

"Don't let us keep you, if you want to play tennis," begged Lindsay, with cold politeness.

"Oh, I don't mind at all, thank you! I thought you'd be interested to hear about Cousin Cyril," replied Marjorie.

Lindsay wished sincerely that Cousin Cyril had been at the bottom of the sea, instead of sailing over it and writing long descriptions of its charms. The precious moments were passing by. She could hear the gentle swish of the water as Scott applied the hose; if they were not quick, he would have finished, and the opportunity would be gone.

"I believe Miss Russell is coming out to play croquet to-night," she ventured desperately.

"Is she? Oh! she promised I might be on her side next time. I wonder if she's there yet? I must go and see at once."

"Thank goodness!" ejaculated Lindsay, as their classmate's blue-linen dress disappeared along the avenue. "Now, I'm going to put this heavy stone on the hose pipe, just where it goes through the hedge. Then we'll both creep through that hole into the kitchen-garden."

Without wasting another minute, Lindsay hastily did as she had said, concealing the stone among the long grass, after which both girls crawled through the hedge into the midst of a bed of Jerusalem artichokes. As they had expected, their plot answered admirably. Scott gave a grunt of vexation, and looked at his hose. His water supply had undoubtedly failed him. He stumped away, grumbling, to examine the tank.

"I don't believe he'll ever look amongst the grass. He'll think something's wrong with the tap," chuckled Lindsay.

The moment Scott had vanished through the gate, they dashed (regardless of the artichokes!) in the direction of the frames. Lindsay slid her hands rapidly in a search under the large, vine-like leaves; and Cicely, armed with a trowel, began to dig furiously. All in vain! Though they prodded the soil with sticks they could not feel anything particularly solid underneath, and there was no time to make very deep excavations.

"He's coming back!" panted Lindsay. "Smooth the earth over in that corner, and place that leaf to hide it. Quick, or he'll catch us! Don't go through the artichokes; we must run the other way!"

Hide-and-Seek

The July days literally flew, and the term was drawing rapidly to a close. Miss Russell seemed determined to make the very most of the last weeks at the Manor, and arranged something fresh for nearly every afternoon. On one day there was a cricket match, on another a putting contest, and on a third a tennis tournament, all of which caused much excitement in the small world of the school.

Both Lindsay and Cicely were fond of games, and anxious to win their share of distinction, so by mutual consent they decided to relax their watch on Scott until after the athletic sports. These were always considered a great event, and this year were to be on a larger scale than usual.

"It's so splendid to be able to have them in these lovely grounds," said Mildred Roper. "There never seemed half enough room on the lawn at Winterburn Lodge."

"I hear Miss Russell is going to give quite a party," volunteered Nora Proctor. "She's invited the Rector and Mrs. Cross and all the people who have called on her at Haversleigh, so we shall have plenty of spectators."

"I wish Mrs. Courtenay could come," exclaimed Cicely.

"I wish indeed she could. I'm afraid she must be worse to-day, as Monica was not at the history class," said Mildred.

All the girls were busy "getting into good form", as they expressed it. The elder ones worked untiringly at tennis, while the younger ones practised running with a zeal worthy of candidates for a Marathon race.

"Miss Russell says there'll be several handicaps, but she won't tell us what they are," remarked Beryl Austen.

"Well, it's much more fun if you don't know beforehand," returned Effie Hargreaves. "They wouldn't be handicaps if we could do them too easily."

"I found a piece of four-leaved clover yesterday," observed Cicely, "so I ought to be lucky. I showed it to Mademoiselle, and she was quite envious. 'Vous aurez la chance!'" she said.

"How jolly! Have you kept it?"

"Rather! I've left it to press between two pieces of blotting-paper, under a pile of books. I'm going to have it put in a locket when I go home."

"I don't believe in luck," declared Nora. "I'm sure all the four-leaved clovers in the world wouldn't make Marjorie Butler win a race. She's out of breath before she's run ten yards."

"Is Monica going to take part?" asked Beryl.

"I don't know. She said she had put her name down provisionally. If she does, I expect she'll astonish us all. She can jump most beautifully--she's as light as a feather."

The afternoon of the sports was brilliantly fine. By half-past two the guests had assembled on the big lawn. They looked quite a small crowd. The school had aroused interest in the neighbourhood, and people had come from several miles' distance in response to Miss Russell's cards of invitation. Irene Spencer was the only girl who could boast of having any relations present, her uncle, aunt, and several cousins having driven over from Linforth Vicarage. The visitors were evidently prepared to enjoy everything.

"It is not often we have an opportunity in the country of witnessing Olympic games. I am looking forward to seeing so many young Atalantas run races. Where are the wreaths of laurel and parsley that are to grace the occasion?" said Mr. Cross, the genial rector, who was fond of a joke, and at home among schoolgirls.

"There aren't any," laughed Cicely. "Miss Russell uses the laurel leaves to flavour the custards, and the parsley to garnish the hams."

"I'm astonished at her putting such classic plants to such ignoble purposes. She has asked me to distribute the prizes, and I thought I should be expected to place green chaplets upon the brows of the victors. It's too bad, when I had composed a speech on purpose. You suggest I should make up another? Not so easy, my dears. I shall come to some of you for assistance. I wonder if Miss Frazer would be equal to the occasion?"

"I'm sure she couldn't think of anything funny," declared Cicely.

"Then I shall have to trust to what I can say on the spur of the moment. If you notice I'm breaking down, please begin to clap, and then everybody will suppose I have finished. Here comes Miss Russell. I believe she wants me to act umpire too. Greatness is being thrust upon me. I hope I shan't disgrace my high position."

In spite of the Rector's mock protestations, he seemed very capable of managing the sports, and reviewed the rows of waiting girls with the eye of a general.

"It takes me back to my own schooldays," he said. "I used to think then I would much rather win the long jump than be made Archbishop of Canterbury; and I considered the captain of our cricket club a far bigger fellow than the Prime Minister. Where's Monica? Isn't she joining in to-day's doings?"

Monica arrived at the last moment, just when everybody had given her up, and took her place quietly among the members of the first form.

"I was afraid I couldn't come at all," she explained; "but Mother is asleep now, so I can leave her for an hour, at any rate. I have told Jenny to send for me if she wakes."

The first item on the programme was a tennis contest, limited to the elder girls. It was a hard-fought battle, as the competitors were evenly balanced, and it ended in a victory for Mildred Roper and Kathleen Crawford. Monica played well, but she had not been able to spend so much time at practice as the others, and she missed several balls.

"It was very stupid of me," she apologized. "I never seem to grow accustomed to Mildred's fast serves."

A race followed for the second class, which Irene Spencer, much cheered by her cousins, nearly succeeded in winning, though she was beaten at the last by Merle Hammond, who made a sudden and unexpected spurt. It was now the turn of the third-form girls. They were to run a handicap, and awaited particulars with much eagerness.

"Miss Russell seems to set as severe tasks as the wicked stepmother in the fairy tales," said Mr. Cross. "She decrees that you are each to be given a small box of peas and beans and buttons mixed together, and that you are to sort them before you start to run the race. Will you please all kneel on the grass with your boxes in front of you. Are you ready? One--two--three--off!"

It was a question of deftness of fingers. Effie Hargreaves justified the old proverb, "More haste, less speed", by upsetting her box; and Marjorie Butler got her piles mixed in her agitation. Cicely finished first, and was halfway across the lawn before Nora Proctor overtook her. It was a keen struggle between these two. All the others were some distance behind, for Lindsay was not so fleet of foot, and Beryl Austen slipped and fell on the dry grass.

"It's Nora! No, it's Cicely!" cried the girls. "Well done, Cicely! Go on, Nora! She's gaining! No, she isn't! Why, it's Cicely after all!" as the latter reached the winning-post a couple of yards in advance of her opponent.

"Well run!" said the Rector. "You got over the course like young greyhounds. If you learn lessons at the same speed, you will turn out prodigies. Why is Miss Russell shaking her head? She says there is no danger of that. Really, I feel quite relieved to hear it. I was beginning to be almost afraid of you. I believe you are expected to pick up the beans before we continue our proceedings."

The programme was arranged so as to be as varied as possible. There were a round at clock-golf, a skipping tournament, an egg-and-spoon race, and an archery contest.

"It's jumping next," said Lindsay, as Miss Frazer and Miss Humphreys came forward, carrying a rope; "the first-form girls are to begin. I particularly want to see Monica."

Monica had taken her place modestly at the very end of the line, so that at each trial she was the last to compete. Her movements were very light and graceful, and the girls watched her with approval. One by one, as the rope was raised higher, the competitors began to thin, till at length their number was reduced to three--Kathleen Crawford, Bertha Marston, and Monica.

All looked eagerly to see the next attempt. Kathleen just managed to scramble over, Bertha failed utterly, but Monica took the jump with absolute ease.

"This will be the final test, I expect," said Miss Russell, when the two successful ones returned to the starting-point.

"I don't think they can do that!" murmured Lindsay, gazing with awe at what was to her the impossible height required.

It was too much for Kathleen. She ran, balked, and made another vain effort, to give it up.

"Now, Monica!"

The name was on everybody's lips.

Monica appeared to be perfectly cool, far less excited, indeed, than the spectators.

"Rest a moment, my dear, if you are out of breath," suggested Miss Russell.

"No, thank you. It would hardly seem fair to Kathleen. I'll try now."

"Took it like a bird!" cried the Rector, clapping his hands, as the rope was once more successfully cleared.

The girls raised a storm of cheering, to show partly their admiration for the skilful deed, partly their appreciation of Monica herself.

"She is a great favourite in the school," Miss Russell explained to Mr. Cross.

"I am delighted to see her mixing with other young people," he replied; "she has a dull time, poor child, as a rule, and has felt the disappointment about her uncle's property more than she cares to confess. Mrs. Courtenay's illness is very distressing. My wife was speaking to the doctor yesterday: he considers Sir William Garrett ought to be sent for at once; in a few weeks it may prove too late."

"You have known the family a long time?" asked Miss Russell.

"Since Monica's birth. I was as well acquainted with old Sir Giles as he would allow anyone to be. I used to call and see him sometimes, and discuss botany, the only subject in which he showed any interest. He lived so penuriously that his income must have accumulated for many years. He rarely spoke of business matters, but on one occasion he requested me to sign my name as witness to some document, the contents of which he did not tell me.

"He referred, however, to Monica as if she were to benefit substantially under his will, and asked me if I considered it harmful for a girl to be left an heiress. I assured him it would not be so in her case; both her disposition and upbringing were such that money could not spoil her.

"'A season of adversity is often the best preparation for prosperity,' he replied.

"I have remembered his words ever since.

"He sent for me on his deathbed, and I have sometimes wondered if there were any secret he wished to confide to me. Most unfortunately I was visiting a sick parishioner several miles away, and did not get the message in time. When I arrived at the Manor he was past speech. He tried to scrawl a few lines on a piece of paper, but the writing was quite undecipherable. If he regretted any earthly act, it was too late then to alter it; he was going to settle his great account."

While the Rector and the headmistress were talking, tea had been carried into the garden, and the girls now busied themselves in attending on the guests.

"I think the competitors must need refreshment more than we do," said Mrs. Cross, as Cicely handed her the cream.

"They are not forgotten," said Miss Russell, "but they are only too pleased to make themselves useful first."

Certainly the girls could not complain of being neglected; both cakes and strawberries were waiting for them on a separate table, where Miss Frazer was presiding.