The School Queens Part 21

That girl is your own cousin, Aneta Lysle. Then there is the other girl, Maggie Howland, who is ugly."

"Oh no--no!" said Merry affectionately.

"Yes, darling," said Maggie, using her most magnetic voice, "really ugly."

"Not in my eyes," said Merry.

"She is ugly," repeated Maggie, speaking with great calm; "and--yes--she is poor. I will tell you as a great secret--I have never breathed it to a soul yet--that it would be impossible for this girl to be an inmate of Aylmer House if Mrs. Ward, in the kindness of her great heart, had not offered her very special terms. You will never breathe that, Merry, not even to Cicely?"

"Oh, poor Maggie!" said Merry, "are you really--really as poor as that?"

"Church mice aren't poorer," said Maggie. "But never mind; I have got something which even your Aneta hasn't got. I have talent, and I have the power--the power of charming. I want most earnestly to be your special friend, Merry. I have a very affectionate heart, and I love you and Cicely and Molly and Isabel more than I can say; but of all you four girls I love you the best. You come first in my heart; and to see you at my school turning away from me and going altogether to Aneta's side would give me agony. There, I can't help it. Forgive me.

I'll be all right in a minute."

Maggie turned her face aside. She had taken out her handkerchief and was pressing it to her eyes. Real tears had filled them, for her emotions were genuine enough.

"Don't you think," she said after a pause, "that you, who are so rich in this world's goods, might be kind and loving to a poor little plain girl who loves you but who has got very little?"

"Indeed, indeed, I shall always love you, dear Maggie," said Merry.

"Then you will do what I want?"

"I don't like to make promises, and I am so much in the dark; but I can certainly say this--that, whatever happens, I shall be your friend at school. I shall look to you to help me in a hundred ways."

"Will you indeed, darling Merry?"

"Of course I shall. I always intended to, and I think Cicely will do just the same."

"I don't want you to talk to Cicely about this. She doesn't care for me as much as you do."

"Perhaps not quite," said honest Merry.

"Oh, I am sure--certain of it. Then you will be my friend as I shall be yours, and when we meet at Aylmer House you will talk of me to others as your friend?"

"Of course I shall."

"That's what I require. The thought of your friendship when I love you so pa.s.sionately makes sunshine in my heart. I sha'n't be miserable at all to-morrow after what you have said. I shall think of our pleasant talk under this great oak-tree; I shall recall this lovely, perfect day. Merry, you have made me very happy!"

"But please understand," said Merry, "that, although I am your friend, I cannot give up Aneta."

"Certainly not, dear; only, don't take what you call sides. It is quite reasonable to suppose that girls who have only just come to school would prefer to be there at first quite free and untrammeled; and to belong to a certain set immediately trammels you."

"Well, I, for one, will promise--at any rate at first--that I won't belong to any set," said Merry. "Now, are you satisfied, Maggie?"

"Oh, truly I am! Do let me kiss you, darling."

The girls kissed very affectionately.

Then Maggie said, "Now I am quite happy." After a pause, she continued as though it were an after-thought, "Of course you won't speak of this to any one?"

"Unless, perhaps, to Cicely," said Merry.

"No, not even to Cicely; for if you found it hard to understand, she would find it impossible."

"But," said Merry, "I never had a secret from her in my life. She is my twin, you know."

"Please, please," said Maggie, "keep this little secret all to yourself for my sake. Oh, do think how important it is to me, and how much more you have to be thankful for than I have!"

"If you feel it like that, poor Maggie," said Merry, "I will keep it as my own secret."

"Then I have nothing further to say." Maggie sprang to her feet.

"There are the boys running to meet us," she said. "I know they'll want my help in preparing the fire for the gipsy-kettle."

"And I will join the others. There's Susan Heathfield; she is all alone," said Merry. "But one moment first, please, Maggie. Are you going to make Molly and Isabel bind themselves by the same promise?"

"Dear me, no!" said Maggie. "They will naturally be my friends without any effort; but you are the one I want, for you are the one I truly love."

"Hallo! there you are," called Andrew's voice, "hobn.o.bbing, as usual, with Merry Cardew."

"I say, Merry," cried Jack, "it is unfair of you to take our Maggie away on her last day."

The two boys now rushed up.

"I am going to cry bottles-full to-morrow," said Andrew; "and, although I am a boy, about to be a man, I'm not a bit ashamed of it."

"I'll beat you at that," said Jackdaw, "for I'll cry basins-full."

"Dear me, boys, how horrid of you!" said Maggie. "What on earth good will crying do to me? And you'll both be so horribly limp and damp after it."

"Well, come now," said Jackdaw, pulling her by one arm while Peterkin secured the other.--"You've had your share of her, Merry, and it's our turn."

Maggie and her devoted satellites went off in the direction where the bonfire was to be made; and Merry, walking slowly, joined Susan Heathfield.

Susan was more than two years older than Merry, and on that account the younger girls looked up to her with a great deal of respect. Up to the present, however, they had had no confidential talk.

Susan now said, "So you are to be a schoolgirl after all?"

"Yes. Isn't it jolly?" said Merry.

"Oh, it has its pros and cons," replied Susan. "In one sense, there is no place like school; but in the best sense of all there is no place like home."

"Were you long at school, Susan?"

"Of course; Mary and I went to a school in Devonshire when we were quite little girls. I was eleven and Mary ten. Afterwards we were at a London school, and then we went to Paris. We had an excellent time at all our schools; but I think the best fun of all was the thought of the holidays and coming home again."

"That must be delightful," said Merry. "Did you make many friends at school?"

"Well, of course," said Susan. "But now let me give you a word of advice, Merry. You are going to a most delightful school, which, alas!

we were not lucky enough to get admitted to, although mother tried very hard. It may be different at Aylmer House from what it is in the ordinary school, but I would strongly advise you and Cicely not to join any clique at school."