CHAPTER XIII
MANY SMALL MYSTERIES
Shortly before Christmas, Jean's father, Mr. Mapes, turned up just intime to whisk the Lakeville youngsters aboard their train. The girlswere so glad to see a friend from home that they all but wept tears ofjoy. Quiet Mr. Mapes was quite pleased and embarrassed at theirrapturous greeting--even Henrietta having surprised him with a kiss.
"We'd be glad to see even a beggar from _home_," explained Mabelearnestly and with her usual frankness--and wondered why Mr. Mapeslaughed.
Mabel was to visit among her friends for the holidays. All the otherHighland Hall girls except homeless Sallie, Virginia Mason (a quiet girlfrom far away Oregon) and poor old Abbie, who wasn't exactly a girl,departed to their homes for a two weeks' vacation.
It wouldn't be possible to describe _all_ the Christmas gifts that thehappy Lakeville girls received; but some of the more unusual onesdeserve mention. From Germany, Mrs. Bennett sent to each of the fivegirls a lovely little Dresden pin of exquisite enamel. Mrs. Lombard, thegrateful mother of Laddie, the rescued castaway, presented to each abeautiful gold locket containing a pleasing picture of her attractiveboy. Mrs. Slater had selected an interesting book for each ofHenrietta's chums; and from Mr. Black, each girl received a beautifulleather writing case "with a place for stamps and everything," as Bettiesaid joyfully. Mrs. Crane gave each girl a five dollar gold piece. ButHenrietta's father had sent nothing to his family. This was bothpuzzling and alarming. He had never before failed to send wonderfulgifts at Christmas time.
Of course the Lakeville girls had dispatched parcels to Sallie and hadwritten to her; so for once the post-girl had been able to deliver muchpleasant mail to herself.
There was only one trouble with that vacation. It didn't last longenough.
"Dear me!" said Henrietta, when Mr. Black had returned them all safelyto Highland Hall, "those were the shortest two weeks that everhappened."
This second coming to Highland Hall, however, was quite different fromthe first; and much pleasanter. The early arrivals greeted the latecomers warmly and there was much hugging and kissing in the corridors.With one exception, all the girls and all the teachers had returned. Theexception was Madame Bolande.
"I'm pretty sure she was fired," confided Sallie, inelegantly. "She wasin a furious temper when she packed her trunk the day after you left.And I wish you could have seen her room afterwards. Dust and powder androuge all over the place--I had to help Abbie clean up. She wore herstockings until the feet were gone and then threw them under the bed."
"I knew she was too awful to last," said Hazel Benton. "But I did thinkthey'd be obliged to keep her for a whole year. I'm so glad theydidn't."
At first there was no regular French teacher. Elisabeth Wilson, one ofthe Seniors, attempted to carry on the classes; but found it difficultto undo Madame's faulty work. Then one of the Theological students wasengaged temporarily; but so many extra girls among the day pupilsdecided suddenly to take French that the young Theologian fell ill fromoverwork. Then Henrietta offered to tide the classes over until DoctorRhodes should hear from the agency that was to supply the new teacher.
The three Seniors were regarded by the rest of the pupils withconsiderable awe, and it is time that you were hearing more about them.In the first place they were quite old--sixteen or perhaps as much asseventeen; but as Seniors sometimes do, they kept their ages a darksecret. The other girls were permitted to spend only thirty cents a weekfor candy and other eatables. Not so the Seniors. They could spend allthe money they liked, provided their parents supplied it, and they did.They could even send to Chicago for large boxes of candy or cream puffsor Angel's food cake and eat these delectable things at any hour of theday or night, without interference. In the matter of clothes they werenot restricted to middies. They could wear what they liked and they did,Eleanor Pratt was exceedingly dressy. Elisabeth Wilson was a walkingfashion plate and Beatrice Holmes of Indiana, managed to out-dress themboth. Occasionally, one or another of these superior young persons wouldcondescend to pass her box of chocolates to some of the younger girls;but, for the most part, the proud and lofty Seniors, as Sallie said,flocked by themselves and were not always polite when some thoughtlessyoung person from the lower forms "butted in."
Their rooms were in the older part of the house and were much granderthan those of the other pupils. It meant a great deal to be a Senior--youalways spelled it with a very large S--at Highland Hall.
But being a Senior did not exempt Miss Pratt, Miss Wilson or MissHolmes--never did any other pupil venture to address them as Eleanor,Elisabeth or Beatrice--from losing certain, small belongings.
Two weeks after the holidays, Miss Wilson reported the loss of a smallcrescent pin, set with diamonds. Miss Holmes had searched her room invain for a valuable bracelet and Miss Pratt had broken a ten dollar billin order to buy a quarter's worth of stamps--and the change had vanishedfrom her purse. Yes, she _had_ been careless to leave it in the pocketof her coat in the cloak room; but that was no reason why any one shouldhave taken it.
"Anyway," said Sallie, "we know now that it isn't Madame Bolande who isdoing it; and that's something."
"Of course," ventured Henrietta, "it couldn't be one of the Rhodesfamily. I know there is some sort of a mystery about them. They all havesort of a queer, shifty look about them; and they all shut right up likeclams when you ask questions. You can't even pry into poor old MissEmily's past without frightening her. This is an old school; but exceptfor Miss Julia I can't believe that the Rhodes people have been herevery long. Now _have_ they, Sallie?"
"I can't tell you a thing," declared Sallie. "I promised not to and Ican't. There _is_ a sort of secret. It isn't anything _very_ bad. It'sjust something that Doctor Rhodes thinks might make a difference in theattendance if it were known--Goodness! I've told you more now than Imeant to. Please don't talk about it, Henrietta."
"Of course I won't," promised Henrietta, "but I'm just as curious as Ican be and I'm going to pump poor old Abbie."
But poor old Abbie showed unexpected strength of mind; she put herfingers into her ears and refused to listen to Henrietta'sblandishments.
"It ain't for me," said Abbie, "livin' here like I be, to be givin'things away to prying young persons like you and that Jane Pool childthat's always pesterin' me about my past. I know what I know but youain't goin' to. What you don't know can't hurt you."
Every week, some time between three and five o'clock on Saturdayafternoon, every pupil, not excepting even the lofty Seniors, wasexpected to visit the huge attic above the older portion of HighlandHall. Here, arranged in a neat border all around the big room, were thegirls' trunks. Only on Saturdays were the girls permitted to visitthem--it seemed, Bettie said, almost like getting back home to see themagain each week.
Near the windows were benches and numerous brushes and boxes ofblacking. It was here that the girls blacked their shoes, or whitenedthem, according to their needs. Saturday, likewise, was the day forthat.
The third Saturday after Christmas, Mabel, always a little awkward, losther balance and fell backward into an open trunk. In her efforts to saveherself she clutched things as she crashed through the flimsy tray. Shecame up with a ribbon belt in her hand. There was an odd buckle on thebelt. Mabel looked at it curiously. Bettie, polishing one of her bestblack shoes glanced at it too. Then she looked at Mabel and lifted aninquiring eyebrow. Then both girls stooped to look at the name on thetrunk. It was there in plain letters, "Gladys E. De Milligan."
And then Gladys herself appeared suddenly at the top of the stairs witha second armful of clothing to store in her trunk. She flew at surprisedMabel like a small whirlwind and snatched the belt from her hand.
"What do you mean," she stormed, "prying in my trunk! And taking mythings. I caught you doing it--I'll tell all the girls."
"I _didn't_ pry in your trunk," protested Mabel. "I just _fell_ in.Goodness knows I didn't _want_ to skin my shoulder on your old trunk;and that belt is just what I got when I grabbed.
"
"That's the truth," added Bettie.
Gladys locked her trunk ostentatiously, pocketed the key and marcheddownstairs. Mabel looked at Bettie, Bettie looked at Mabel.
"The buckle on that belt looks a lot like the one that Helen Miller madesuch a fuss about last fall," said Mabel.
"I know it does."
"Do you think we'd better say anything about it to the girls?"
"Let's ask Jean."
Now Jean was the kindest soul imaginable. Although she had known manythings to Gladys's disadvantage, she had kept silence herself and hadinfluenced her little friends to keep silence likewise.
"Gladys may have found that buckle," said Jean, "and of course it'spossible that she and Helen had buckles just alike. I don't _like_Laura--I mean Gladys--but I don't believe we'd better say anything againsther to the other girls."
"She says things against us," said Mabel. "She told Sallie that myfather was just a corn doctor and that all Bettie's clothes came out ofmissionary boxes and that Marjory's Aunty Jane took in washing--and Ishan't tell you what she said about _your_ folks but it was just awful."
"Well, let's not worry about it. The girls that we like best aren'tgoing back on us for anything Gladys can tell them and we don't have tobe mean just because _she_ is."
"I suppose it is hard luck," said Bettie, "to be born the kind of personLaura is. I agree with Jean. Let's forget her and think of pleasantthings."
Laura was a clever girl in many ways. Naturally bright, she learnedeasily. Naturally rather a forward child, not easily embarrassed, sherecited readily--in spite of her gum--and acquired good marks. She brokevery few rules. Even that rule that _every_ boarding school girlbreaks--the one about remaining in one's own bed from the time the bellrings for "Lights Out" until it rings again for rising, even that rulewas seemingly unbroken by Laura. At any rate, no one ever caught herbreaking it. She was rooming now with Victoria Webster in the NorthCorridor, Victoria having returned thither after the burglar scare wasover.
Mrs. Henry Rhodes was matron of the North Corridor, where the Millergirls, Ruth Dennis, Alice Bailey, Hazel Benton, quiet Virginia Mason andsome of the older girls roomed. Mrs. Henry, as the girls called her, waseasily the most attractive member of the Rhodes family. Quite a youngwoman, she was both pretty and stylish in a quiet, very pleasing way.Her abundant light brown hair was coiled neatly and becomingly about hersmall head--she was slender--and not very tall--and Hazel Benton said thatshe had an aristocratic nose. Most of the girls liked and admired her.
She was not particularly severe or exacting in her duties as matron--MissCassandra Woodruff was made of much sterner stuff, as the West Corridorgirls knew to their sorrow. Mrs. Henry had once been a boarding schoolgirl herself, likewise a college girl, and her sympathies were with hercharges. It was suspected that she didn't consider it a crime forDorothy Miller to slip across the hall into Ruth Dennis's bed to giggleover some joke, or for Hazel Benton to slide into Alice Bailey's roomfor a cough drop, or even for half a dozen of the girls to assemble inDora Burl's room for a smuggled in, midnight spread of cream puffs; soit is possible that Mrs. Henry didn't listen, very hard when her chargesprowled about at night.
In addition to being a popular matron, she had proved an excellentdrawing teacher. Also her needlework classes were turning out good work.She had been married only a short time when her husband died; and, asCora put it, looked more like a young lady than a widow.
"I wish," groaned Maude, the day after Miss Woodruff had caught herafter "Lights Out" on her way to Cora's room with a large box of creampuffs under her arm, "that we could swap matrons with the NorthCorridor. Mrs. Henry _knows_ that cream puffs have to be eaten fresh."
"Yes," agreed Cora, "it was certainly a crime about those cream puffs.Four dozen of them at sixty cents, besides what we gave Charles forsmuggling them in. Eight of us chipped in with our whole week'sallowance. And what did old Woodsy do but keep them in her warm room allnight, and then, after every last one of them had soured beyond hope,she ordered them served for the whole school for lunch."