Briarwood Girls Part 4

CHAPTER VI

MYSTERIES

The essays were handed in the next day, and after two days of what the girls termed "agonizing suspense," Miss Burnett announced to her cla.s.s that the judges had made their decision. The best was Katherine's. No one had expected anything else, and there was heartfelt applause with no jealousy, as she received the prize, a handsome set of books. Alison's received second place, to her own surprise, for she was modest as to her own acquirements.

The rest were of about the same degree of excellence--laborious efforts, showing no originality of thought or discrimination. Still, they had tried, and Miss Burnett expressed in a few pleasant words her appreciation of their endeavors, as she returned their papers.

Finally, there were but two papers left on the desk. Miss Burnett took up one and glanced at the t.i.tle.

"This one, _The River of Time_," she said, "has at least the merit of brevity. In the s.p.a.ce of about seven hundred words the author has reviewed the history of English literature from its source to the present time--"

"Oh, that is mine, Miss Burnett," exclaimed Rosalind, starting. "Please don't read it. I know it's awful." She smiled frankly and beguilingly into the teacher's eyes. "It's the best I could do."

Miss Burnett could not help returning the smile with the essay.

"Is it really the best you could do, Rosalind?"

"It is, truly, Miss Burnett. I could hardly do that."

"Then, Rosalind, all I can say is that it is a pity. But at least you really tried, and perhaps next time you will try harder and do better."

She took up the last paper on the desk. "I have kept this one for the last because I wanted to talk with you a little about it, Marcia. I should like you to remain a few minutes after the cla.s.s is dismissed."

Marcia said nothing. One after another the girls filed out, until she and the teacher were alone together. Then Miss Burnett unfolded the paper and turned to the girl before her.

"This essay is signed with your name, Marcia, in the sealed envelope that was kept in my desk until the judges' decision had been reached. No one knew who had written it. No one knows now, except myself. I have not even mentioned the t.i.tle, _The River Road_, until I had talked with you alone. Did you talk with anyone else about your essay? You know I wished them to be entirely original."

"No, Miss Burnett, I never said a word to anybody about it," said Marcia, quite truthfully.

Miss Burnett looked grave and troubled. "Then it is very peculiar, Marcia, that your essay has nearly the same t.i.tle as Rosalind's, and says the same thing, only in different words. How could that be, unless you talked over your essays together?"

"But we did not, truly, Miss Burnett. It just happened so." Marcia looked the teacher straight in the face, as if defying her to find a flaw in her statement. "Rosalind lost her book, and borrowed mine. Then she went out to play basketball without returning it. I had to borrow Alison's book to study for mine. She said she found the essay in it when she opened it to study. That is all I can tell you."

If there were any guile in this speech, Miss Burnett was too transparently honest herself to find it out. She looked troubled.

"Well, Marcia, it is very strange, but I must take your word for it.

That is all, then."

Thanksgiving had come and gone, and the girls were settled down for the uneventful stretch that comes between Thanksgiving and Christmas. The seven friends were gathered in Alison's room, one raw, cold "Novemberish" afternoon for one of their old-time talks. Marcia had gone out shopping with Rosalind, for whom she seemed to have developed a sudden great friendship, and the girls had availed themselves of the opportunity to meet in their favorite gathering place without the embarra.s.sment of her presence.

Polly had a question to propound.

"Why don't we like Marcia?"

"Well?" said Evelyn, when the silence had lasted for several minutes while each waited for the others to speak.

"Alison ought to be able to answer that question," said Kathy.

Alison was slow to speak. "I don't know," she said at last. "She is in all our cla.s.ses; she is pretty; she obeys all the college regulations.

She seems all right; but--well, she is my roommate, I don't like talking of her behind her back."

"Well, I don't mind a bit," said Joan the outspoken. "I can tell you what's wrong with her. She doesn't like us. She hates school. She calls it a jail. She hates lessons. She hates Miss Harland. I heard her say so once, when Miss Harland said no to something she wanted to do. I don't see why she came to Briarwood at all."

"Neither does she," put in Evelyn. "Her father sent her, that was why."

"Well, I don't like her, and I wish she roomed in another hall," said Joan; and no one gainsaid her, for there was no denying that Marcia took no pains to make herself popular.

Polly changed the subject abruptly.

"Kathy, did you ever find your ring?" she asked.

Katherine looked startled. "No. And I've lost something else--my great-grandmother's pearl necklace. Mother said I shouldn't take it to school with me, but I was sure I would be careful with it. And I was, girls, I really was. It stayed always in the bottom of my trunk, in its velvet case. I don't believe any of you ever knew about it. I haven't even taken it out since I left home. But yesterday I thought I would make sure that it was safe under everything in the trunk. And I looked, and it was not there. I cannot understand it, but it is true. Mother was right, as usual. I don't know how I am ever to tell her."

There was a dead silence--the silence of dismay. What was this that was among them?

Joan broke it, saying briefly, "Ghost. Rosalind's essay. Kathy's ring.

Rachel's gold pencil. Now, Kathy's necklace. Look out for your lamp, Alison!"

"Oh, nonsense," Alison said laughing nervously. "You _can't_ suspect--Oh, I don't like being suspicious."

"All right. I only say, look out."

CHAPTER VII

WITHOUT LEAVE

"Want to go to a party, Rosalind?"

It was a dull, uninteresting-looking day in early December. Snow was threatening and out-of-doors looked anything but attractive. Rosalind was toiling over a history lesson and wishing that all the kings and queens of France had been guillotined before they made trouble for future generations of schoolgirls, instead of afterward, when a tap at the door heralded Marcia and her exciting question.

Rosalind dropped her book, casting Louis XIV to the winds.

"Of course I do. Where? And when? And how? Tell me quick."

Marcia shut the door carefully. "Any chance of your roommate coming in?"

"No, she's gone home for the week-end. No one will disturb us. I'm supposed to be studying. Didn't you see the sign?"

"Yes, but I knew you weren't hurting yourself with study. Now listen. I am invited to a party at Sara Marshall's tonight, and I can bring a friend with me. Her brother will meet us at the corner with a car, at nine o'clock. I thought of you. Will you go?"

"I'd love to. Have you asked Miss Harland? Will she let us?"

"Rosalind, you _are_ green. What Miss Harland doesn't know won't hurt her. I haven't asked her, and I don't intend to. If you would be afraid to go without leave, I'll ask Alison--but she's such a stickler for rules, I didn't think she would. And this is such a good chance, with your roommate away, and all. We can dress in here after supper, and I'll spend the night with you, if anybody asks. As soon as lights are out, we'll slip down to the bas.e.m.e.nt. There'll be a window unlatched. Ann will do anything for me. See how easy it will be."