The Third Class at Miss Kaye's Part 5

At half-past seven a tray with gla.s.ses of milk and plates of bread-and-b.u.t.ter and biscuits was brought into the room, and, when supper was finished, Mercy Ingledew, the monitress, came to see that all went off to their bedrooms, going upstairs with them to help to plait their hair and superintend the due brushing of teeth and the tidy disposal of clothes. From the beginning it had seemed so new and strange and exciting that Sylvia had not yet found time for the tears which she had fully intended to shed, and it was only when she was in bed and the light turned out that she suddenly remembered how homesick she was. Even then the fresh events kept mixing themselves up with her regrets, and as she mopped her cheeks with her damp pocket handkerchief she thought: "It's much more interesting than I expected. I shall like Linda. But Marian Woodhouse needn't think she's going to teach me everything. I dare say I can learn lessons as well as she does. It would be lovely if I could be head of the cla.s.s. I'm going to try and try just as hard as I possibly can, and then I could write to Mother and tell her I was top."

And with this meritorious resolution she fell asleep.

CHAPTER IV

A First Day at School

There were thirty-three girls at Heathercliffe House, and they were divided into four forms. Miss Kaye herself taught the first cla.s.s, Miss Barrett the second, Miss Arkwright the third, and Miss Coleman the Kindergarten, while Mademoiselle took French and Needlework, and Miss Denby the music, a few elder girls, however, learning from a master, who came twice a week to give lessons.

Sylvia found that she very soon settled down into the ordinary routine of her new life. Miss Kaye was kind, and tried to make school seem as much like home as possible. There were a certain number of clearly defined rules, but on the whole the pupils were allowed a good deal of liberty, which she trusted to their sense of honour not to abuse. Four of the eldest girls were monitresses, responsible for the behaviour of the third and fourth forms, and the younger ones were encouraged to come to them with their troubles or difficulties.

"You see, telling a monitress isn't like telling a teacher," said Linda, "and Mercy Ingledew's so nice she never makes mischief. I'm glad she's on our landing instead of Kathleen Gilchrist."

To Linda Sylvia had been attracted at once, and when she found that her room-mate liked the same occupations and the same books as herself, had read _Eight Cousins_ and _The Little Duke_ and was just beginning _Ivanhoe_, she felt the friendship was sealed. Linda was certainly a very different companion from Effie and May or any of the other children whom Sylvia had known at home. She seemed so much older and more sensible, and was interested in many things which she was only too pleased to explain to her new friend.

"You must come and see our gardens," she said on the first morning, when lessons were over and the girls were amusing themselves in the grounds. "They're over here at the other side of the lawn. We may each have a small one of our own or share a double one. They don't look very nice now, because of course we couldn't take care of them in the holidays and the weeds grew so dreadfully, but it's getting time to dig them up and plant bulbs. This is mine. There isn't much in it now the annuals are over. If you like I'll give it up and join at a larger one with you."

"That would be jolly," said Sylvia, "if there's one to spare."

"Oh yes! n.o.body has that big double one by the cuc.u.mber frame. Shall we begin now to weed, and on Sat.u.r.day we can move out any plants we want and decide what we'll put in it. Come along for the gardening tools. I shall have to lend you mine."

The tools were kept in a shed at the back of the house. Linda had a dear little set of spade, rake, hoe, trowel, and basket, so the pair set to work at once upon the new patch of ground.

"Please dig carefully," said Linda, "in case we come across any treasures. This piece belonged to Ellie Turner and Sophy Hardman, and they may have left something in it. Yes, I believe that's a clump of daffodils. I remember they had some, and there was a root of forget-me-not in the corner if no one else has taken it away."

"Couldn't we do anything special with our garden?" asked Sylvia.

"What do you mean by special?" said Linda.

"Something that would be different from anybody else's. Couldn't we put our names in flowers?"

"We might sow them in mustard and cress in the spring."

"Yes, but now. Suppose we put Linda at one end and Sylvia at the other in white stones."

"Oh, that would be lovely! What a glorious idea! We'll borrow Sadie Thompson's wheelbarrow and do it at once. How did you think of such a jolly thing? I wonder where Sadie is. We'll go and look for her."

It was a vain search, however, for Sadie could not be found, and n.o.body appeared to know where she was; so after hunting for some time Linda gave it up.

"What a nuisance!" she cried. "I shall take it out without asking her; we really can't wait. I don't suppose she'll mind. We shan't do it any harm." And she trundled the little barrow out of the shed and wheeled it to the farther end of the back carriage drive, where she thought they might find some stones.

Heathercliffe House had the most delightful garden. In front were two large lawns, an upper one used for croquet and a lower one for tennis. Between the two was a rosery where a great many beautiful roses were still blooming, although it was now October.

"On Miss Kaye's birthday," said Linda, "we always make her a garland and put it on her head. She laughs, but she wears it for a little while and it looks so nice."

The front carriage drive was well rolled and kept very neatly, but the back one was just like a country lane; there were thick trees on each side with gra.s.s and wild flowers growing between, and in a corner near the gate was a small disused quarry, with high, rocky sides covered with gorse bushes and long brambles. Linda could not have chosen a better place to find stones; there were any number lying about, and though they were not white ones, they were a very light grey colour.

There were a few blackberries still remaining on the brambles, but the ripest hung far out of reach and were quite impossible to pick, though Sylvia scratched herself in a vain attempt.

"It's no use. I'd best give them up and stick to the stones," she said. "If we ever go down to the beach we might bring back some sh.e.l.ls too. Do you find any here?"

"Yes, lots, at one particular place, pink and white and yellow ones.

They'd look pretty as an edging, but it would take a fearful long time to fetch enough to go far. I expect we shall need a great many barrows of stones before we can make both our names. I wouldn't pick up too small ones if I were you. There, I can't possibly wheel any more, so we'd better start."

The barrow was heavy and they took it in turns. It seemed a long way all round the back drive, through the rosery, and along the apple-tree avenue till they reached their own garden and tipped the stones down in a heap. A very small pile it looked, too, only sufficient for about three letters, and they sighed to think of the number of journeys that would be needed before their great scheme was complete. Off they went again, however, to the quarry and refilled the barrow as fast as they could.

"There can't be very much time before dinner," said Linda, "though I haven't heard the first bell yet. We must get on as quickly as we can, because I don't know what I should do if there wasn't time to put Sadie's barrow away. We have to run in the very second we hear the bell, and wash our hands."

"It's full enough now," said Sylvia. "I'll start with it first. Don't jog me or I shall upset it."

"I think we might make a short cut," suggested Linda. "Instead of walking all round the drive and the avenue we'll go straight through the shrubbery, it will take off an enormous corner and save us the hill by the rosery. We're not supposed to go there, but no one will notice."

They plunged therefore under the trees, wheeling the little barrow with some difficulty over the gra.s.s and among the rhododendrons, and were just getting in sight of the lawn when Linda suddenly stopped and clutched Sylvia by the arm.

"Look!" she cried. "There's Sadie Thompson coming with Gertie Warburton. What will she say when she finds we've taken French leave with her barrow? She'll be ever so cross. Give it me quick and we'll rush over here amongst the bushes. Perhaps they won't see us."

She seized the handles from Sylvia's grasp and they scuttled as fast as they could under the over-hanging boughs of a particularly big rhododendron, which appeared to offer a safe retreat.

"Quick, quick, they're looking!" cried Linda, bending low to avoid the branches and scrambling farther under the bush. "Hullo! Why! Oh! I say! What's happened?" She might well exclaim, for to her extreme astonishment the wheelbarrow suddenly seemed to plunge into the ground, and she saw before her nothing but the tips of the handles standing out from among a quant.i.ty of dead and withered leaves.

"How very peculiar!" she said. "There must be a hole here. Why, it's a sort of pool, I believe. Look, it's all horrid black mud and water under the dead leaves. What a disgusting mess the barrow is in! How are we to get it out?"

"We've lost all our stones," said Sylvia, kneeling at the edge and breaking off a stick to poke into the muddy depths below. "What a queer place it is!"

"I don't mind the stones, because we can find some more, but I do mind the barrow. Even if we fish it out, how are we ever to wash it? Sadie will be most dreadfully angry, and we shall get into such a sc.r.a.pe. We aren't really allowed to borrow each other's things without asking, and if Sadie turns nasty, and tells, and Miss Kaye hears about it, I don't know what may happen."

"Can't we pull it out and take it to the back drive again, and bring a watering can to wash it with?" said Sylvia.

"We might, but it's so hard to get it. When I tug it only seems to flop in deeper."

"Let me try."

"You can if you like, but I think the stones are weighing it down."

"You go a little farther on then, and let me come to where you are, so that I can reach properly."

Linda crawled cautiously along, feeling her way as she went.

"It seems to be a kind of sunk tub," she said. "Look, the edges are made of wood, and it's filled up with water. Oh, do be careful, Sylvia!" she exclaimed as the latter leaned over to grasp the handles.

"I'm all right. I've got them quite firmly. Now I'm going to give one good tug and a shake to get rid of the stones and then I expect it will come."

"Shall I hold your dress?" asked Linda, looking on with a shiver of apprehension.

"No, don't touch me! There, I can feel the stones go. It's coming!

It's coming!"