The School Queens Part 46

Aneta replied in French that she did not think the fog was too thick, and the French governess and the girl went out together into the street. But all the time Aneta Lysle was thinking hard. She was in possession of Maggie's secret. Her stepfather, instead of being related to the Martyns of The Meadows, was a grocer! Aneta belonged to that cla.s.s of persons who think a great deal of good birth. She did not mind Tildy in the least, for Tildy was so far below her as to be after a fashion quite companionable; but--a grocer! Nevertheless, Aneta had a heart. She thought of Maggie, and the more she thought of her the more pitiful she felt towards her. She did not want to crush or humiliate her schoolfellow. She felt almost glad that the secret of Maggie's unhappiness had been made known to her. She might at last gain a true influence over the girl.

Her walk, therefore, with Mademoiselle Laplage took place almost in silence. They hastily executed their commissions, and presently found themselves in Pearce's shop, where Aneta had taken a brooch a day or two ago to have a pin put on.

The shopman, as he handed her the mended brooch, said at the same time, "If you will excuse me, miss, you are one of the young ladies who live at Aylmer House?"

"Yes," said Aneta, "that is true."

"Then I wonder, miss, if"----He paused a minute, looked hard at the girl, and then continued, "Might my brother speak to you for a minute, miss?"

"But it make so cold!" said mademoiselle, who knew very little of the English tongue, "and behold--zee fog! I have such fear of it. It is not to joke when it fogs in your country, _ma chere. Il faute bien depecher_."

"I shall be quite ready to come back with you in a minute or two,"

said Aneta.

Just then the man who had bought the brooch from Maggie appeared. "I am very sorry, miss," he said, "but I thought that, instead of writing to Miss Howland, I might send her a message; otherwise I should have to see Mrs. Ward on the matter."

"But what matter is it?" said Aneta. "You want to see Miss Howland, or you want me to take her a message?"

"Well, miss, it's no special secret; only my brother and I cannot afford to buy the brooch which she sold us the other day."

"But I don't understand," said Aneta. "Miss Howland sold you a brooch?

Then if she sold it, you did buy it."

"The fact is, miss," said young Pearce, coloring rather deeply, "I was not myself quite aware of its value at the time, and I gave the young lady much too small a sum of money for it. I want her to return me the money, and I will give her back the brooch. My brother and I have been talking it over, and we cannot do an injustice to one of the ladies at Aylmer House--it is quite impossible."

"I will give your message," said Aneta coldly. "Please do not purchase anything else from Miss Howland. She will doubtless call to see you to-morrow."

"Thank you, miss; then that is all right," said the man, looking much relieved.

Aneta hastened home. She felt perplexed and alarmed. She must see Maggie, and as soon as possible. It was a strange fact that while Maggie was in no danger at all, while everything seemed to be going right with her, and as long as she held an undeniable position in the school as one of the queens, Aneta could scarcely endure her; that now that Maggie Howland, was, so to speak, at her mercy, this girl, whose nature was fine and brave and good, felt a strong desire to help her.

There were, however, very strict rules at Aylmer House, and one of them was that no girl on any account whatsoever was to sell any of her possessions in order to make money. This was one of the unwritten rules of the school; but the idea of an Aylmer House girl really requiring to do such a thing was never contemplated for an instant.

There were broad lines of conduct, however, which no girl was expected to pa.s.s. Liberty was allowed to a great extent at Aylmer House; but it was a liberty which only those who struggle to walk in the right path can fully enjoy. Crooked ways, underhand dealings, could not be permitted in the school.

Maggie had done quite enough to cause her to be expelled. There had been times when Aneta almost wished for this; when she had felt deep down in her heart that Maggie Howland was the one adverse influence in the school; when she had been certain that if Maggie Howland were removed all the other girls would come more or less under her own gentle sway, and she would be queen, not of the greater number of the girls at Aylmer House, but of all the girls, and very gentle, very loving, very sympathetic would be her rule. Her subjects should feel her sympathy, but at the same time they should acknowledge her power.

Maggie's was a counter-influence; and now there was a chance of putting a stop to it.

Aneta knew well that, kind as Mrs. Ward was to Maggie, she did not in her heart absolutely trust her. Therefore, if Maggie left it would also be a relief to Mrs. Ward. Miss Johnson might be sorry, and one or two of the girls might be sorry; in particular, dear little Merry.

Aneta had a great love for Merry, and was deeply sorry to feel that Merry was under Maggie's spell; that was the case, although she did not openly belong to Maggie's party. So Merry too would be saved if Maggie left the school. Oh! it was most desirable, and Aneta held the key of the position in her hand. She also had in her pocket Mrs.

Martin's letter. That did not perhaps so greatly matter, for Maggie's father, whatever her mother had done, was himself a gentleman; but the fact of Maggie's slipping out of doors alone to sell an ornament was a sufficiently grave offense to banish her from such a school as Aylmer House.

Yes, Aneta could send her away, but it might be managed dexterously.

Maggie might stay till the end of the present term and then go, knowing herself that she would never return, whereas the girls would know nothing about it until the beginning of the next term, when they would no longer see her familiar face or hear her pleasant voice. A few of them might be sorry, but they would quickly forget. The school would be the better for her absence. The thing could be done, and it would be done, if Aneta used that knowledge which she now possessed.

The girls all met at tea, and Maggie was in the highest spirits. She knew nothing whatever of all the information which Aneta had gathered in her absence. She knew nothing of Tildy's arrival, of Tildy's departure, nor of the letter which Aneta had put into one of her drawers. Still less did she know anything of Pearce and his betrayal of her. She and her companions had had a very pleasant time, and immediately after tea, in the "leisure hours," they were to meet in the girl's private sitting-room to discuss matters officially.

The Aneta girls had, by common consent, given up the room to them during these last important days. There were plenty of nooks and corners all over the cheerful house where they could amuse themselves and talk secrets, and have that sort of confidence which schoolgirls delight in.

As soon as tea was over Maggie jumped up and said, "Now, Kitty"--she turned to Kathleen O'Donnell as she spoke--"you and I, and Rosamond and Jane, and Matty and Clara, and the Tristrams will get through our work as quickly as possible.--I suppose, girls"--here she glanced at Aneta in particular--"you will let us have the sitting-room as usual during the leisure hours?"

"Of course we will," said Sylvia St. John in her gentle tone; but she had scarcely uttered the words before Aneta rose.

"Of course you can have the sitting-room," she said; "but I want to talk to you, Maggie."

"You can't, I am afraid, just now," said Maggie. "I am much too busy.--We have to go into accounts, girls," she added. "There are no end of things to be done, besides, at the rehearsal." Here she dropped her voice slightly.

"The rest of you can go to the sitting-room and do what is necessary,"

continued Aneta. "I want you, Maggie, and you had better come with me." She spoke very firmly.

A dogged look came into Maggie's face. She threw back her head and glanced full at Aneta. "I go with you," she said, "just because you ask me, forsooth! You forget yourself, Queen Aneta. I also am a queen and have a kingdom."

"My business with you has something to do with a person who calls herself Tildy," said Aneta in her gravest voice; and Maggie suddenly felt as though a cold douche had been thrown over her. She colored a vivid red. Then she turned eagerly to Kathleen.

"I won't be a minute," she said. "You all go into the sitting-room and get the accounts in order. You might also go over that tableaux with Diana Vernon.--Kathleen, you know that you must put a little more life into your face than you did the other day; and--and--oh dear, how annoying this is!--Yes, of course I will go with you, Aneta. You won't keep me a minute?"

Maggie and Aneta left the room.

Merry turned to her sister and said in a troubled voice, "I can't imagine why it is that Aneta doesn't care for poor Maggie. I love Aneta, of course, for she is our very own cousin; but I cannot understand her want of sympathy for dearest Maggie."

"I am not altogether quite so fond of Maggie as you are, Merry; and you know that," said Cicely.

"I know it," said Merry. "You are altogether taken up with Aneta."

"Oh, and with school generally," said Cicely, "it is all so splendid.

But come, we are alone in the room, and losing some of our delightful leisure hours."

The Maggie-girls had meanwhile retired into the sitting-room, where they stood together in groups, talking about the excitement which was to take place on the following Sat.u.r.day (it was now Thursday), and paying very little heed to Maggie's injunctions to put the accounts in order.

"Don't bother about accounts," said Kitty; "there's heaps of money left in the bag. Wasn't it scrumptious of old Mags to put a whole sovereign in? And I know she is not rich, the dear old precious!"

"She is exactly the sort of girl who would do a generous thing," said Clara Roache, "and of course, as queen, she felt that she must put a little more money into the bag than the rest of us."

"Well, she needn't," said Kathleen. "I'd have loved her just as much if she hadn't put a penny in. She is a duck, though! I can't think why I care so much about her, for she's not beautiful."

"Strictly speaking, she is plain," said Janet Burns; "but in a case like Maggie's plain face doesn't matter in the least."

"She has got something inside," said Matty, "which makes up for her plain features. It's her soul shining out of her eyes."

"Yes, of course," said Kathleen O'Donnell; "and it fills her voice too. She has got power and--what you call charm. She is meant to rule people."

"I admire her myself more than Aneta Lysle," said Janet Burns, "although of course all the world would call Aneta beautiful."

"Yes, that is quite true," said Kathleen; "but I call Aneta a little stiff, and she is very determined too, and she doesn't like poor old Mags one single bit. Wasn't it jolly of Mags to get up this glorious day for us? Won't we have fun? Aneta may look to her laurels, for it's my opinion that the Gibsons and the Cardews will both come over to our side after Sat.u.r.day."

While this conversation was going on, and Maggie's absence was deplored, and no business whatever was being done towards the entertainment of Sat.u.r.day, Maggie found herself seated opposite to Aneta in Aneta's own bedroom. Maggie felt queer and shaken. She did not quite know what was the matter. Aneta's face was very quiet.

After a time she drew a letter from her pocket and put it into Maggie's hand.