Etheldreda the Ready Part 9

"I--I was going to offer--I thought I could do the work for you, Miss Drake."

Etheldreda's gasp of dismay was heard throughout the room. Her cheeks rivalled Susan's in their flame of indignation. _Susan_ to play her false, to endeavour to wrest a coveted place from a friend! Susan an enemy, a rival! Dreda felt a vehement, overwhelming disgust for the whole universe and its inhabitants, a shattering of faith in every cherished ideal! Never, no never again, could she bring herself to believe in a human creature!

The two girls sat silent, awaiting the mistress's decree, and Miss Drake looked slowly from one flushed face to the other, her usually smooth forehead showing two deep horizontal lines. It was her "thinking look"--the look which she wore when she was trying to explain an unusually difficult point in the day's lessons. The girls watched her anxiously, saw the lines clear away, and the light of decision drawn in her eyes; wondered if it were in imagination only that at the same time they caught the sound of a faint sigh of regret.

"Thank you, girls," she said slowly. "It is sweet of you both to be so ready to help. I am ever so much obliged to you, Susan--but Dreda spoke first. I think I will decide to give the post to her."

n.o.body heard any more than this, though Miss Drake continued talking for several moments. Dreda was thrilling from head to foot with triumphant joy. Susan's flush had deepened from crimson to an absolute magenta.

The other girls were torn between sympathy and amazement! For once in their lives they were unanimous in condemnation of the beloved Duck's judgment, and could not imagine what she had been dreaming about to choose Dreda Saxon for a post of responsibility, when that most reliable of Susans could have been had for the asking. No one made any remark, however, and Dreda, glancing expectantly around, failed to meet any of the congratulatory smiles which were surely her right on so auspicious an occasion. The girls were sitting stiff and straight in their seats, staring at their desks in their most prim and wooden manner. Susan was the only one who ventured a struggling smile, and from her Dreda contemptuously turned aside. Hypocrisy was a failing for which she had no tolerance!

It was with a visible effort that Miss Drake continued the discussion in her usual bright, cheery manner.

"The term is already a month old. I should like to have the synopsis of the contents of the magazine by to-day fortnight--say the tenth of next month. We can then allow three weeks for composition and a week for typing, and still have the magazine ready a week before the holidays. I have quite decided that everything must be typed: the effect, as a whole, will be far better. Faults in style and composition stand out before us in print as they never do in our own familiar handwriting.

Moreover, I have other schemes working in my head." She paused, smiling mysteriously. "I won't explain now, but later on, perhaps ... Do your best, girls! Some of you have real talent. Who knows, this little venture may be the beginning of some great career. How proud I should be in time to come if I could say of a celebrated author: `She was my pupil. She wrote her first story or essay or poem for our school magazine!'"

She paused, looking round the cla.s.s. Once more her gaze lingered on Susan's downcast face, but there was no response in its immovable lines.

The other girls vouchsafed strained, uneasy smiles. Only from Dreda's ecstatic eyes there flashed back a joyful comprehension. How beautiful the girl looked! Her vivid colouring, all pink, and white, and gold, made an almost startling contrast to the duller tints of the other girls.

It was impossible to resist the fascination of so fair a sight, yet there was a touch of wistfulness in the teacher's smile.

The cla.s.s dismissed, it was time to go upstairs to dress for supper, and Dreda found herself alone in the bedroom with her two companions. Nancy peeled off her blouse, threw it upon the bed, and brushed out her heavy locks in determined silence. Susan approached Dreda with a tremulous smile.

"Oh, Dreda--I'm glad! I hope the magazine will be a success. If I can help you in any way do let me try."

But Dreda glared at her with sparkling eyes.

"You are _not_ glad! You tried your very best to be editor yourself, though you _knew_ how disappointed I should be. I thought you were my friend. You are not. You are an enemy, and not even an honest enemy at that! You need not trouble yourself about me any more, for lessons or anything else. I can get on quite well alone!"

Susan shrank, as if from a blow.

"Dreda, you are angry. You don't understand. It's no trouble. I love to help you."

"Much obliged. I don't care for such help. Please don't talk to me any more. I _am_ angry. I have a right to be angry!"

Dreda pulled her screen with a jerk, cutting herself off from the corner where Susan performed her toilet. Seated on her bed, Nancy brushed at her long, sleek hair, keeping it spread as a veil before her face.

Dreda waited in vain for a glance of sympathy, or understanding, but it never came, even when Susan had crept softly from the room and the constraint of her presence was removed. Nancy finished brushing her hair, and rose to her feet in the lightest, most unperturbed of fashions:

"Got any pins you can spare?"

Nancy was celebrated for the number of pins which she used in her toilet. Things wouldn't fasten without them, she declared. She was fairly bristling with pins, so that her most ardent adorers moderated their embraces, mindful of the scratches which had been their reward in days of inexperience. Dreda eagerly selected half a dozen of her most cherished fancy-headed pins, and handed them across the bed.

"Of course. As many as you like. I say, Nance, I'm sorry to have made a scene. I _could not_ help it!"

"Oh, don't apologise. I like a good row now and then. Not for myself-- it's too much trouble--but it's amusing to listen to other people when they get excited. They give themselves away so delightfully."

Dreda flushed, and knitted her brows.

"I wasn't at all excited in this case. I was angry--_righteously_ angry! It's one's duty to protest against mean, underhand actions."

"Such as wanting the best positions for ourselves?"

"Certainly not. That is only natural ambition--laudable ambition. The mean thing is to try to oust someone else--your own best friend, when you know she could do it better than you!"

"Yes!" mused Nancy thoughtfully. "That does sound mean ... This sub- editor post is going to be so difficult that it ought certainly to go to the right person. A careful, methodical, machine-like sort of creature, who will never forget or let others forget. The girls are slack enough about regular work, and will be a hundred times worse about an extra, and The Duck is a tartar about punctuality. It's going to be a problem to please them and `keep the peace.' But you have had a magazine at home, so you know all about it. Susan has had no experience."

Nancy had seated herself on her bed once more, her hands clasped round her knees, her lips slightly apart, showing a glimpse of the golden bar round the front teeth; her long, Eastern-looking eyes met Dreda's without a blink, yet for some mysterious reason Dreda felt her cheeks flush and a jarring doubt awoke in her mind. "A machine"--"never forgetting--never late!" Not even her youthful complaisance could apply that description to herself. The ghosts of past enterprises seemed to rear reproachful heads, reminding her of their existence. To each of the number had been sworn eternal fidelity, yet how short had been their lives! The factory girl, for instance, who had received three long, enthusiastic letters, and after the lapse of a year was still awaiting the receipt of the fourth. Poor Emma Larkins had been so appreciative and grateful. Dreda had been able to talk of nothing else for the first week of the correspondence. She had planned a lifelong friendship, and in imagination had seen herself, aged and wealthy, acting the gracious benefactress to a second generation. _How_ had she happened to forget?

She had been busy, her father had taken her for a trip abroad, she had joined a society for the study of French cla.s.sics. The time had flown by until she had been ashamed to begin writing again. No doubt another correspondent had taken her place ... "_Susan has no experience_."

True! Yet if one wished to describe Susan's character, could one do it more aptly than by using Nancy's own words? "Careful, methodical, machine-like as to accuracy!" _What_ did Nancy mean? Was she really and truly in earnest, or did some hidden meaning lurk behind the seemingly innocent words? Dreda drew a long breath, and set her teeth in the determination to set an example of diligence and punctuality to all sub-editors beneath the sun, and by so doing to demonstrate in the most practical of fashions her suitability for the post.

CHAPTER TWELVE.

All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy--and Jill a dull girl also.

Miss Bretherton was a firm believer in this old adage, and loyally tried to provide a due proportion of amus.e.m.e.nt for her pupils. In the winter terms bad weather often interfered with outdoor sports, but every alternate Sat.u.r.day evening a reception was held in the drawing-room between the hours of seven and nine thirty, on which occasions thirty pupils dressed for the fray with gleeful antic.i.p.ation, and the thirty- first with trembling foreboding, for it was she who was chosen to play the part of hostess and take sole management and responsibility of the entertainment.

All pupils in the fourth and fifth term were considered old enough to be hostesses, so that no girl was called upon to play the part more than twice a year; but when the great occasions arrived, ambition mingled with nervousness, and the heroine of the hour, calling to mind the errors and failings of her companions, determined to profit by them, and achieve a brilliant success for herself.

The duties of the hostess were sufficiently onerous. She was responsible for the arrangement of flowers in the drawing-room, could distribute chairs and sofas as she thought fit, and punctually at seven o'clock must be on duty prepared to receive her guests and direct the pa.s.sing round of tea and coffee. The first hour was dedicated to conversation; for the second, some form of amus.e.m.e.nt must be designed and arranged, and lastly, a sum of ten shillings had to be so expended as to provide some form of light refreshment which should be consumed before the company dispersed.

To take the last duty first, ten shillings divided into thirty portions (the younger pupils were not allowed to stay up for "supper") did not allow a very handsome sum per head! Most hostesses came down and down in their ambition until they reached the ignominious level of lemonade and buns, but there had been occasional daring flights of fancy, as when Nancy had provided thirty large sausage rolls, and the poor sufferers whose digestions forbade playing with such dainties last thing at night found no choice offered to them, and were obliged to retire to bed hungry and wrathful. An hour's amus.e.m.e.nt was also somewhat difficult to arrange, as nothing short of an official decree would induce a music pupil to perform in public, a singer to sing, or an elocutionist to give a recital. Paper games and compet.i.tions of a somewhat feeble nature were the general refuge of the dest.i.tute, though each hostess started out with the determination of hitting on something more amusing and exciting. No difficulty as to amus.e.m.e.nt or provision, however, could compare for one moment with the ordeal of that first hour, that hour of reception and conversation, the horrors of which each fresh hostess seemed to find more onerous than the last. To sail forward and shake hands with Miss Bretherton in her best grey silk, to welcome her to her own drawing-room, and engage in light conversation about the weather-- could one imagine a more paralysing ordeal? Then no sooner was the Head disposed of in one arm-chair, than in would come a party of your best friends, all primed with mischievous determination to make you giggle, and so reduce you to humiliation. While one was elegantly shaking hands, a second was furtively pulling hideous grimaces, a third was pinching your arm, and a fourth treading on your toe. Crimson-faced and quivering, you would convey these last arrivals across the room and introduce them to Miss Bretherton, for it was one of the tiresome rules that no one guest was supposed to know another at the moment of entering these social gatherings. Thick and fast they came at last, and more and more and more, all needing to be welcomed with appropriate words, conducted to seats, introduced, provided with tea. The poor hostess had no time to think of herself, and her worst moments began when all her guests had a.s.sembled, for then she must perforce watch for the moment when conversation became forced and fitful and promptly move the p.a.w.ns about the board, introducing them to fresh p.a.w.ns, lingering until conversation was safely afloat! The members of the staff never deigned to help the poor struggling novice in the art of entertainment; it was darkly suspected that they rather added to her difficulties by adopting haughty, reserved airs which called for greater displays of generalship.

With what a sigh of relief was the striking of eight o'clock greeted by the hara.s.sed mistress of the ceremonies!

Dreda Saxon's first experience as hostess arrived just about the middle of the term, and, unlike her companions, she was greatly elated at the prospect. No fears disturbed her night's rest; she received the half- sovereign for refreshments as gratefully as if _it_ had been a fortune, and graciously "allowed" a few favoured friends to join the troupe of "dramatic impersonators" who were to provide the hour's amus.e.m.e.nt.

Everyone wanted to be a dramatic impersonator. It sounded much more exciting than sitting primly looking on beneath the eyes of the teaching staff; but Dreda had made a careful selection of Susan, Nancy, Barbara, and two lanky, overgrown third form sisters, Molly and Florry Reece, and st.u.r.dily refused to add to their number. Norah West in especial was much injured at being pa.s.sed over, for she cherished a schoolgirl's adoration for the quiet Susan, and until Dreda's appearance on the scene had invariably been included in any scheme in which either she or Nancy were interested.

"I always did everything with everybody. I was always _in_ everything until you came," she cried resentfully.

"Were you? Dear me! Then you should be glad of a rest," responded naughty Dreda, when, needless to say, Norah waxed more indignant than before.

"That Etheldreda Saxon is really getting insupportable," she announced to her companions at dinner on Sat.u.r.day morning. "A new-comer and a fourth form girl, and she tries to boss the school. She's not a bit good at her work either, except at things she can make up out of her own head at a moment's notice. What right has she to give herself airs?"

The companion shrugged her shoulders with disappointing indifference.

"I don't know. What does it matter? It pleases her, and it don't hurt us. She's good at hitting on new ideas anyhow, and that's a comfort.

Dramatic impersonations sounds a lot better than paper games. I'm quite looking forward to to-night."

Now Norah had had paper games on a recent occasion when she had played the part of hostess, so she felt herself snubbed, and sulked for the whole afternoon, disdaining to take any notice of the whispering and laughing, the rushings to and fro, the wholesale confiscation of "properties," indulged in by Dreda and her troupe.

When the evening arrived she put on her second best dress, and purposely dallied until the very last moment before entering the drawing-room.

She wished and expected to annoy Dreda by slighting her hospitality, but Dreda was too much absorbed in the excitement of the moment to remember past differences, so that the reluctant Norah found herself greeted with the most radiant of smiles, and was promptly escorted across the room and introduced to Mademoiselle in characteristic fashion.

"Mademoiselle, may I introduce my friend Miss West? Miss West is quite a distinguished example of our _jeune fille_ sportive! I am sure you will like to know her. Miss West--Mademoiselle Saudre."

Mademoiselle chuckled with delight, and subdued splutterings of amus.e.m.e.nt sounded round the room while the _jeune fille_ sportive took her seat with a very red face, miserably conscious that she was handicapped with a new nickname which would remain with her for the rest of her school life.

It was amusing to note the expression, half-approving, half-dismayed, with which Miss Bretherton watched the self-possessed young hostess.

These evening At Homes had been inst.i.tuted with the express design of preparing the elder pupils to be of social use to their mothers on their return home; to be able to make an introduction in due form, and to overcome awkward self-consciousness. It was a trifle disconcerting, however, to behold so very full-fledged a bantling, to find oneself treated with benevolent patronage, and to see the old rules set at naught in favour of startling innovations. Dreda had requisitioned two of the maids to take charge of the tea-table, and ordered their movements with the air of a commander-in-chief; she strolled about the room--taking part in the conversations of the different groups, and, when necessary, introducing new subjects with unblushing inconsequence.