The Nicest Girl in the School Part 9

It was a great triumph for Patty to have won both Kitty and Maud to her side, and she had the added satisfaction of afterwards securing the two members of the lower division who had at first refused. Thanks to her exertions, the standard of the cla.s.s seemed undoubtedly raised, and the Fifth Form girls, who shared the recreation room, and heard most of what was going on, took up the idea, and formed a society of their own. It was as if Patty had cast a stone into a smooth pond, and the ripples were spreading in an ever-widening circle. Without in the least realizing it, her school-fellows were influenced by her pleasant, sunny, unselfish ways. She had set a fashion of doing little kind, considerate, helpful things, which many of the rest began unconsciously to follow.

There are always a large number of girls in a school who drift along without any special aim, yet are ready enough to respond to anyone who draws out the best that is in them. If one companion succeeds in avoiding little evils and inconsistencies, keeping her temper, and showing forbearance and self-restraint in all the small daily acts, her character will begin to invade other lives, and uplift them in spite of themselves. Patty was not aware that she had made any difference at The Priory, and certainly never for a moment intended to set herself up as an example; but without knowing it she had given a helping hand to several who, but for her, might never have made any endeavour to mount to a higher level. Avis in particular was far more conscientious than before, and Enid, who had hitherto been content if her half-learnt lessons did not win a scolding from Miss Harper, began to put more zeal into her work. She was a bright girl, and could easily win cla.s.s laurels if she wished, though she disliked any continuous efforts. Her essays were full of originality, and she was quick at understanding anything which required reasoning, but she had little patience for remembering dates and facts, and was not capable of Patty's steady plodding. Though both Maud Greening and Kitty Harrison had become more friendly, Vera Clifford and Muriel still held aloof from Patty, and it was owing to them that an unpleasant incident occurred one day which caused the latter much distress. Patty's talent for drawing was well known in the school; she was clever at portraits, and with a few rapid lines could make excellent likenesses. The girls were fond of asking her to do sketches for them on sc.r.a.ps of paper, which they would afterwards keep inside their lesson books as great treasures. Among others, Patty had drawn a capital picture of Miss Rowe, showing her cla.s.sical features and her coils of smooth, fair hair. It was regarded as her masterpiece, and Cissie Gardiner, its lucky owner, was quite envied by the rest of the cla.s.s. Cissie placed it inside her _Merchant of Venice_, and for several days rejoiced in its possession. One morning, however, the Upper Fourth was reading Shakespeare with Miss Rowe. This lesson was always held in the lecture-room instead of in the cla.s.sroom, where Miss Harper was teaching the lower division, and the girls sat on chairs arranged in a semicircle round their mistress. Cissie could not resist taking a peep at her portrait, and handed it to her neighbour to admire, who pa.s.sed it on to the next girl, so that in course of time it found its way down the cla.s.s to Vera Clifford. Now Miss Rowe was rather handsome, but she happened to have a scar down the side of her forehead, which slightly spoilt her good looks. Patty had naturally left this out in her sketch, but Vera, who had not the same nice feeling, took a pencil and, nudging Muriel, who sat next to her, put in the mark, which showed only too plainly across the brow.

"What are you doing? Pa.s.s it back at once!" whispered Cissie anxiously.

Her ill-judged concern, however, had the unfortunate effect of calling Miss Rowe's attention to the piece of paper.

"What have you there, Vera?" she asked.

Vera tried to hand the sketch back quickly to Maud Greening, and Maud made a valiant effort to slip it inside her Shakespeare; but as Maggie Woodhall happened at that instant to jog her elbow, she dropped the book, and the paper fluttered on to the floor, almost at the teacher's feet. Miss Rowe picked it up and looked at it critically.

"To whom does this belong?" she enquired sharply.

"It's mine, Miss Rowe, please," said Cissie.

"Did you draw it?"

"No, Miss Rowe."

"Then who did?"

"Patty Hirst," said Cissie, who had not seen Vera's alteration, and thought the portrait so flattering and talented that she saw no reason for withholding the artist's name, and, indeed, considered Patty might well be proud of such an achievement.

"Then I think Patty Hirst might employ her time more profitably," said Miss Rowe, and, turning very pink, she tore the picture across, and threw it into the waste-paper basket.

Cissie rescued the fragments afterwards, and pieced them together, and when she discovered the addition which had been made, her wrath and indignation knew no bounds. As for Patty, she was nearly heart-broken at the affair. She genuinely liked Miss Rowe, and could not bear her to think that she would have been so cruel and indelicate as to call attention to her one blemish. Even Vera was penitent, for though she had had the bad taste to alter the drawing, she certainly had not intended it to fall into the hands of the mistress herself. The hard part of it was that no one liked to explain, because to refer to it at all would only have seemed to make matters worse; so the girls consoled Patty as best they could, but it was a long time before she could get over it.

Perhaps on the whole the occurrence made Vera a little less nasty to Patty. She was a proud, but not altogether an ungenerous girl, and she was genuinely sorry to have thus thrown blame on undeserving shoulders.

But for Muriel's influence she would have been almost ready to follow the example of Kitty and Maud, and if not to make friends, at least to treat with tolerance a companion who was so particularly inoffensive, and so willing to meet an apology halfway.

The war which Patty waged in her bedroom still went on as before. Every night one of her companions would relight the gas, in spite of all entreaties. Sometimes Patty would get up and turn it out, greatly to the wrath of the others, who would retaliate next day by hiding her brush and comb, or dropping her cake of soap into her water jug. It was a most unpleasant state of affairs, and seemed likely to continue indefinitely, when an incident fortunately happened which led to a truce.

One November afternoon, when the girls were returning from hockey, Patty, in strolling through the shrubbery, noticed that the gardener, who had probably been unstopping one of the gutters, had left his ladder leaning against a wall, thus giving access to the flat roof of the lecture hall. Patty at home had sometimes been called a tomboy, and she could not resist climbing up to see what the world looked like from the top. She had reached the leads, and was on the point of stepping over a large spout, when she heard the sound of laughter on the roof, and stopped to listen. Someone was evidently already there, and, recognizing the voices of Doris, May, and Ella, she decided not to follow them. An idea had suddenly occurred to her, and acting upon it at once she descended to the ground, then, very gently removing the ladder, she laid it at the foot of the wall. The gardener's wheelbarrow, full of dead leaves, stood conveniently near, under the shelter of a large rhododendron, so she sat down on it, and waited for what she knew was bound to happen. I believe there was a little mischief in her eyes, for Patty liked a joke as well as anybody, and she thought the occasion offered considerable opportunities for fun. She had not to wait long. In a few minutes her three room mates, who had explored the roof as far as they dared to venture, returned to the spot where they had left the ladder, and were much astonished to find it gone.

"What a nuisance!" said May. "Ward must have taken it without our hearing him. I wonder where he is?"

"We shall have to call," said Ella; "perhaps he hasn't gone very far."

None of the three noticed Patty, who was hidden by the rhododendron, though by peeping through the leaves she was able to see them perfectly well.

"Coo--e--e!" cried Doris, as loudly as she could.

"Cuckoo!" shouted May, hoping some pa.s.sing companion might be within earshot.

"What are we to do?" said Ella, when their calls had been repeated several times without rousing the faintest reply.

It was rather a lonely part of the garden; most of the girls had run from the hockey field straight into the house, and the gardener was at that moment partaking of tea in the kitchen. Patty, who had counted on all these points, remained quietly under cover, and suppressed her laughter as best she could.

"I don't know; we can't possibly jump it," said May, peeping over the edge to judge the distance between herself and the ground, and drawing back with a shudder.

"We shall have to wait till Ward comes back," said Doris.

"Suppose he's put the ladder away, and doesn't intend to come back?"

suggested Ella.

"Then we'll have to stay here all night," said May.

"Oh, rubbish!" cried Doris. "Let us give one more good call; somebody's sure to come."

The combined efforts of three pairs of lungs raised a l.u.s.ty shout, but beyond a slight echo there was no response.

"It's getting so dark. It must be almost tea-time, I'm sure," groaned Ella.

"They'll miss us at tea, I expect," said Doris.

"Yes, but they won't know where to look for us. They'll hunt in every place except the right one. No one would ever dream we were on the roof," said May dismally.

"Call again," said Ella, who was waxing tearful.

"Cuckoo!" tried May once more, with a tinge of despair in her voice.

This time Patty judged it discreet to come to the rescue, and emerging quietly from the shade of the rhododendron on the far side, she strolled up in a casual manner.

"Why, what are you three doing there?" she exclaimed, with well-feigned surprise.

"Oh, Patty! is that you?" cried Doris, with great relief. "Ward has taken away the ladder and we can't come down. I wish you'd go and fetch him."

"He hasn't taken the ladder away; it's lying on the ground under the wall," replied Patty.

"Then put it up for us, that's a sweet girl," said Ella, in a far more civil tone than she generally used.

"I don't know, on the whole, that I will," answered Patty.

Her three companions gasped.

"Why not?" asked Doris.

"Don't tease, Patty! It's getting dark and cold," said May.

"Do be quick, Patty!" said Ella.

"It would be colder still if you spent the night there," said Patty.

"Think how nice it would be for me, though, to have the bedroom all to myself!"

"Patty, you can't really mean to leave us here!"

"If I put the ladder up, I shall expect something in return," declared Patty.

"All right. Go on. What do you want?"

"You'll all three have to promise never to light the gas again after Miss Rowe's turned it out, and not to read books that aren't allowed."