Tom and Some Other Girls Part 11

"It is, my dear, that's very certain; and as you will probably meet a good many men as you go through life, you might as well study their opinion. It may be regrettable, but it is certainly true, that you will have more influence if you are agreeable to look at. You would have more influence over _me_ at this moment if you would kindly walk upstairs and make yourself look--er--a little more like your old self!"

"Oh, I don't mind. Anything to please you!" said Rhoda carelessly, and strode upstairs after the chambermaid, smiling to herself in lofty superiority at Harold's "dandy ways." She did not smile, however, when, on coming suddenly in front of the mirror, she caught a full-length reflection of herself, for her brother's presence had unconsciously altered her point of view, so that she saw herself no longer from the standpoint of Hurst Manor, but that of Erley Chase. Yes, Harold was right! It was not only the pigtail; there was an indefinable difference in her whole appearance. The clothes were the same, the girl was the same, but there was no longer the immaculate neatness, the dainty care, the well-groomed look which had once characterised her. In her usual impetuous fashion, she had rushed from one extreme to the other; in discarding vanity, had run perilously near neglect.

"I look a nasty, horrid, hidjus fright!" she cried aloud, staring in disgust at the unwelcome vision. "I couldn't have believed it--really I couldn't! It's the fault of those horrid little cubicles with the gla.s.s stuck in the darkest corner. Harold was right. Mother would have been shocked."

She slipped off coat and hat, and with the aid of the well-stocked dressing-bag went through such a process of dusting, brushing, and combing-out as she had not known for weeks past. Finally the old Rhoda seemed to smile upon her in response, in her own eyes at least, but when Erley Chase was reached some hours later Mrs Chester was far from satisfied with her darling's appearance. Her anxious eyes took in at a glance every change in the beloved features, and nothing could shake her conviction that the child had been starved and overworked. An elaborate system of coddling was inaugurated, to which Rhoda submitted with wonderful meekness.

Oh, the delight at being home again, of being loved and fussed over, and indulged in one's pet little weaknesses! How beautiful everything looked; the richly-furnished rooms, the hall with its Turkey carpet and pictured walls; the dinner table with its glittering gla.s.s and silver!

How luxurious to awake in her own pretty room, to hear the fire crackling in the grate, and to sit up in bed to drink the early cup of tea!

"I never realised before how nice home was!" sighed Rhoda to herself, and for four whole days she succeeded in forgetting all about school, and in abandoning herself to the enjoyment of the festivities of the season.

Christmas Day once over, however, recollections came back with a pang, and she was all eagerness to begin the proposed lessons with the Vicar.

To her surprise, father and mother looked coldly upon the project, and so far from admiring her industry thought it a pity to introduce work into the holidays. It needed a hard struggle to induce them to consent to three lessons a week instead of six, and she had to face the certainty that private study would be made as difficult as possible.

Even Harold elevated his eyebrows and enquired, "Why this tremendous hurry?" as if he had never been to a public school himself and known the necessity for advance.

Rhoda betook herself to the faithful Ella in no very gentle mood, and stormed about the small Vicarage garden like a young whirlwind.

"Well, I must say grown-ups are the most tiresome, aggravating, unreasonable creatures that were ever invented! First they want you to work, and urge you to work, and goad you to work, and `Oh, my dear, it would do you all the good in the world to compete with other girls,' and then, the moment you take them at their word and get interested and eager, round they turn, and it's, `Oh the folly of cram! Oh the importance of health!' `Oh what does it matter, my dear good child, if you _are_ a dunce, so long as you keep your complexion!' No, I'm not angry, I'm perfectly calm, but it makes me _ill_! I can't stand being thwarted in my best and n.o.blest ambitions. If I had a daughter, and she wanted to cram in her holidays, I'd be proud of her, and try to help, instead of throwing hindrances in the way. It's very hard, I must say, to get no sympathy from one's nearest and dearest. Even your father looked at me over his spectacles as if I were a wild animal. I thought he would have been pleased with my industry."

"He is; I know he is; but he thinks you may overdo it. You know, Rhoda, you _are_ impetuous! When you take up an idea you ride it to death, and in lessons that doesn't pay. Slow and sure wins the--"

"Rubbish! Humbug! It will never win my race, for I have a definite time to run it in, and not a day more. It has to be a gallop, and a pretty stiff one at that. For goodness' sake, Ella, don't _you_ begin to preach. You might be grown-up yourself, sitting there prosing in that horribly well-regulated fashion."

"I'm not well-regulated!" cried Ella, incensed by the insinuation. "I was only trying to calm you down because you were in such a temper.

What is the use of worrying? You have got your own way; why can't you be happy? Leave the wretched old Latin alone, and tell me about school.

There are a hundred things I am longing to hear, and we have not had a proper talk yet. Tell me about the girls, and the teachers, and the rules, and the amus.e.m.e.nts, and what you like best, and what you hate worst."

It was a "large order," as Harold would have said, but Rhoda responded with enjoyment, for what can be pleasanter than to expatiate on one's own doings to a hearer with sufficient knowledge to appreciate the points, and sufficient ignorance to prevent criticism or undue sensitiveness as to consistency of detail!

Rhoda told of the chill, early breakfasts, of the seven o'clock supper when everything looked so different in the rosy light, especially on Thursdays, when frolics and best clothes were the order of the day; of Miss Mott, with her everlasting "Attention to the board"; the Latin mistress, with her eye-gla.s.ses; Fraulein, with a voice described by Tom as sounding "like a gutter on a rainy day"; and of Miss Everett, sweetest and best-loved of all. Lastly she told of the Record Wall, and Ella was fired, as every girl hearer invariably was fired, with interest and emulation.

When Rhoda went off to her lesson in the study the poor little stay-at- home recalled the words of Eleanor Newman's inscription, and capped them by one even more touching:

"Ella Mason, a student of exceptional promise, voluntarily relinquished a career of fame and glory to be a cheerful and uncomplaining helper at home." Alas, poor Ella! at the word "cheerful" her lips twitched, and at "uncomplaining" the big tears arose and trickled down her cheeks!

For the rest of the holidays Rhoda worked more persistently than anyone suspected, with the exception of her tutor, who invariably found the allotted task not only perfectly accomplished, but exceeded in length.

Even making allowances for the girl's undoubted gift for languages, he was amazed at her progress, and complimented her warmly at the close of the lessons, watching with half-amused, half-pitying eyes the flush of pleasure on the girl's cheeks.

"You are very ambitious, Rhoda. Very anxious to distinguish yourself?"

"Yes."

"Well, well! you are young. It is natural. Remember only that there are different kinds of success, and aim for the best. When I was your age I had dreams of a deanery or a bishopric, but I have remained all my life in this sleepy village. My college companions have soared over my head, yet I can never feel myself an unsuccessful man. I have had great compensations, and have discovered that obscurity has many lessons which I needed badly to learn. Don't be too anxious for honour and glory; there are other things better worth having!"

"The worst of old people is--they _will_ preach!" said Rhoda to herself as she walked home across the Park. "He is a good old thing, the Vicar, but a terrible bore. Unsuccessful! I should think he _is_ unsuccessful, with half-a-dozen children, and that wretched little bit of a house, and a poor stipend. No wonder he gets prosy. Young people understand young people best, and Miss Everett was quite right when she said it was no use trying to stuff lessons down your throat until you were ready to swallow them. If all the fathers, and mothers, and brothers, and vicars in the world were to lecture me now, and tell me to take it easy, and not to worry about the examination, it would have no effect. In another two days I go back to school, and then--then--" She stood still in the midst of the bare, wintry scene, and clasped her hands together pa.s.sionately.

"Rhoda Chester, you must work, you must win! If you don't do well in that examination, it will break your heart!"

CHAPTER THIRTEEN.

"IF I Pa.s.s--"

The Christmas holidays were over, the Easter holidays were over, and spring was back once more. On the slope over which the new students had gaily tobogganed two months before the primroses were showing their dainty, yellow faces, and the girl gardeners were eagerly watching the progress of their bulbs. Hearing that other plots boasted nothing rarer than pheasant eye and Lent lilies, Rhoda had promptly written home for a supply of Horsfieldi and Emperor, which were expected to put everything else in the shade, but, alas! they were coming up in feeble fashion, and showed little sign of flowering. "Another year," the gardener said, "they would do better another year! Bulbs were never so strong the first season." Whereat Rhoda chafed with impatience. Always another time, and not _now_!

Always postponement, delay, uncertainty! Try as she might, checks seemed to be waiting on every side, and she could never succeed in distinguishing herself above her fellows. In moments of depression it seemed that she was as insignificant now as on the day when she first joined the school; but at other times she was happily conscious of a change in the mental att.i.tude towards herself. Though still far from the front, she was recognised as a girl of power and determination; an ambitious girl, who would spare no work to attain her end, and who might, in the future, become a dangerous rival. Dorothy had long ago thrown up the unequal fight, and even Kathleen had moments of doubt, when she said fearfully to herself, "She is cleverer than I am. She gets on so well. Suppose--just suppose..."

With milder weather, cricket had come into fashion, and on the occasion of the first pavilion tea the Blues turned up in force. Thomasina sat perched in manly att.i.tude on the corner of the table, where, as it seemed to the onlooker, every possible hindrance was put in the way of her enjoyment of the meal. Irene Grey presided at the urn, Bertha handed round the cups, and a bevy of girls hung over the cake basket, making critical and appreciative remarks.

"Bags me that brown one, with the cream in the middle! I've tried those macaroons before--they are as hard as bricks!"

"I wish they would get cocoa-nut cakes for a change; I adore cocoa-nuts, when they are soft and mushy. We make them at home, and they are ever so much nicer than the ones you buy!"

"That's what they call plum-cake, my love! Case of `Brother, where art thou?' like the Friday pudding. Those little white fellows look frightfully insipid. What Rhoda would call a `kid-glove flavour,' I should say."

Every one laughed at this, for it was still a matter of recent congratulation in the house that Rhoda Chester had invented an appropriate t.i.tle for a certain mould or blancmange, which appeared at regular intervals, and possessed a peculiar flavour which hitherto had refused to be cla.s.sified.

In a moment of inspiration, Rhoda had christened it "Kid-Glove Jelly,"

and the invention had been received with acclamation. Did she say she had never distinguished herself, had never attracted attention? No, surely this was wrong; for in that moment she had soared to the very pinnacle of fame. So long as the school endured, the name which she had created would be handed down from generation to generation. Alas, alas!

our ambitions are not always realised in the way we would choose! When one has pined to be in a first team, or to come out head in an examination, it is a trifle saddening to be obliged to base our reputation on--the nickname of a pudding!

Rhoda smiled brightly enough, however, at the present tribute to her powers, and pa.s.sed her cup for a third supply with undiminished appet.i.te. She had been playing with her usual frantic energy, and was tired and aching. Her shoulders bent forward as she sat on her chair; she shut her eyes with a little contraction of the brows; the dimple no longer showed in her cheek; and when Bertha upset the tray upon the floor, she started with painful violence. Her nerves were beginning to give way beneath the strain put upon them; but, instead of being warned, and easing off in time, she repeated obstinately to herself:--"Three months more--two and a half--only two!--I can surely keep up for eight weeks, and then there will be all the holidays for rest!"

It seemed, indeed, looking forward, as if the world were bounded by the coming examination, and that nothing existed beyond. If she succeeded-- very well, it was finished! Her mind could take in no further thought.

If she failed--clouds and darkness! chaos and destruction! The world would have come to an end so far as she was concerned.

It filled her with surprise to hear the girls discuss future doings in their calm, unemotional fashion; but though she could not partic.i.p.ate, the subject never failed to interest. The discussion began again now, for it was impossible to keep away from the all-engrossing subject, and the supposition, "If I pa.s.s," led naturally to what would come afterwards.

"If I do well I shall go up to Newnham, and try for the Gilchrist Scholarship--fifty pounds a year for three years. It's vacant next year, and I don't see why I shouldn't have it as well as anyone else,"

said Bertha, modestly, and Tom pounded the table with her heels.

"Go in, my beauty, go in and win! I only wish you could wait a few years until I am there to look after you. I am going to be Princ.i.p.al of Newnham one of these fine days, and run it on my own lines. No work, and every comfort--breakfast in bed, and tea in the grounds--nothing to do but wait upon me and pander to my wishes!"

"I daresay! So like you, Tom! You would be a terror, and work the girls to death. You are never tired yourself, so you would keep them going till they dropped. I pity the poor creatures who came under your rule, but most likely you will never be tried. You may be first mistress, or second, or third, but it's not likely you'll ever be a Princ.i.p.al!"

"It's not likely at all, it's positive sure," retorted Tom calmly.

"Princ.i.p.als, like poets, are born not made, and the cause can't afford to lose me. I don't say for a certainty it will be Newnham; it may possibly be Girton, or Somerville, or Lady Margaret Hall, but one of the two or three big places it's bound to be. No one shall call me conceited, but I know my own powers, and I intend that other people shall know them too. Education is my sphere, and I intend to devote my life to the advancement of my s.e.x. Pa.s.s the cake, someone! I haven't had half enough. Yes, my vocation is among women. You will hardly believe me, my dears, but men don't seem to appreciate me, somehow!

There is a `Je-ne-sais-quoi' in my beauty which doesn't appeal to them a mite. But girls adore me. I've a fatal fascination for them which they can't withstand. There's Rhoda there--she intended to hate me when she first came, and now she adores the ground I tread on. Don't you, Fuzzy?

You watch her smile, and see if it's not true! Very well, then; I see plainly what Providence intends, and I'm going straight towards that goal."

"And it is what you would like? You would choose it if you had the choice?"

"Rather, just! It's the dream of my life. There is nothing in all the world that I should like so much."

Pretty Dorothy sighed, and elevated her eyebrows.

"Well--I wouldn't. I enjoy school very much, and want to do well while I am here, but when I leave, I never want to do another hour's study.