CHAPTER IV
The School Mascot
Although Katrine had come to Aireyholme primarily to study art, she didnot escape scot-free with respect to other lessons. Mrs. Franklin was amartinet where work was concerned. She often remarked that she did notapprove of young people wasting their time, and she certainlyendeavoured to put her principles into practice. She taught the SixthForm herself. Some of the girls were preparing for their matriculation,and received special private coaching from a professor who came twice aweek from Carford; but all, whether they were going in for theexamination or not, were taking the same general course. Katrine hadpursued her studies at Hartfield High School with very languid interest,and had joyfully abandoned them in favour of the Art School. She was notat all enthusiastic at being obliged to continue her ordinary education,and, indeed, considered the classes in the light of a grievance. It washumiliating to find herself behind the rest of the form in mathematics,to stumble in the French translation, and make bad shots at botany;particularly so before Viola Webster, who listened to her mistakes andhalting recitations with a superior smile, or an amused glance at DianaBennett.
"If we had had you at Aireyholme the last year or two, you would havereached a much higher standard by now," said Mrs. Franklin. "You must doyour best to make up for lost time. An extra half-hour's preparationevery day would do you no harm. You might get up a little earlier in themornings."
Katrine, whose object was not so much to repair the gaps left in hereducation by the Hartfield High School as to amble through the presentterm with the least possible exertion of her brains, received thesuggestion coldly, and forbore to act upon it.
"It's all very well for the matric. girls to get up at six and swat, butyou won't find me trying it on!" she assured Gwethyn in private. "Whatdoes it matter whether I can work a rubbishy problem, or patter off apage of French poetry? I've got to take the classes, worse luck, but allthe Mrs. Franklins in the world shan't make me grind."
Between Katrine and the Principal there existed a kind of armedneutrality. Mrs. Franklin persisted in regarding her as an ordinarypupil, while Katrine considered that she had come to school on a totallydifferent footing. Neither would yield an inch. Mrs. Franklin wasmasterful, but Katrine was gently stubborn. It is impossible to make agirl work who is determined to idle. At art Katrine was prepared toslave, and she had already begun to worship Miss Aubrey, but as a memberof the Sixth Form she was the champion slacker. The Principal by turnstried severity, cajoling, and sarcasm.
"A most talented essay!" she remarked one day, handing back an untidymanuscript. "One might regard it as a study in tautology. The word'very' occurs seven times in a single page. It is scarcely usual for agirl of seventeen to make twelve mistakes in spelling."
"I never could spell," answered Katrine serenely.
"Then it's time you learnt. Your writing also is sprawling and careless,and you have no idea of punctuation. I wish you could have seen theneat, beautifully expressed essays that Ermengarde used to write. Theywere models of composition and tidiness."
A suppressed smile passed round the form. The subject of Ermengarde wasa perennial joke among the girls. Mrs. Franklin did not approve ofholding up present pupils as patterns, for fear of fostering theirvanity, so she generally quoted her daughter as an epitome of all thevirtues. It was common knowledge in the school that Ermengarde'sachievements had acquired an after-reputation which at the time theycertainly did not justify. So far from being a shining ornament ofAireyholme, she had generally lagged in the wake of her form. She hadbitterly disappointed her mother by barely scraping through hermatriculation, and failing to win a scholarship for college. PoorErmengarde had no gift for study; she was not particularly talented inany direction, and, shirking the various careers which Mrs. Franklinurged upon her, had taken fate into her own hands by marrying a curate,albeit he was impecunious, and "not at all clever, thank goodness!", asshe confided to her intimate friends. When matrimony had debarredErmengarde from any possibility of a college degree, her mother took itfor granted that she would have obtained honours if she had only triedfor them, and always spoke of her with regretful admiration as one whohad laid aside the laurels of the muses for the duster of domesticity."Saint Ermengarde", so the girls called her in mockery, lived thereforeas a kind of school tradition, and she would have been very muchsurprised, indeed, had she known the extent to which her modest effortshad been magnified.
Gwethyn, who had been placed in the Fifth Form, found her level morequickly than did Katrine in the Sixth. Her high spirits and harum-scarumways commended her to most of her new companions. She had a racy methodof speech and a humorous habit of exaggeration that were rather amusing.Fresh from V.B. at the Hartfield High School, she fell easily into thework of the form, and if she did not particularly distinguish herself,gave no special trouble. The spirited sketch which she made of MissSpencer, pince-nez on nose and book in hand, was considered "to thelife", and she was good-natured enough to make no less than five copiesof it, at the earnest request of Prissie Yorke, Susie Parker, RoseRandall, Beatrix Bates, and Dona Matthews. Her drawings of imps andgoblins, with which she speedily decorated the fly-leaves of her newtext-books, were immensely admired. General feeling inclined to theopinion that while Katrine gave herself airs, Gwethyn was the rightsort, and might be adopted, with due caution, into the heart of theform. It would, of course, be unwise to make too much fuss of her in thebeginning; every new girl must go through her novitiate of snubbing,but such a jolly, happy-go-lucky specimen as this would not be long insettling into Aireyholme ways.
The new-comers had arrived on 21st April: they had therefore been alittle more than a week at the school when the 1st of May ushered in thesummer. May Day was kept with great ceremony at Heathwell. The oldfestival, abandoned for more than a hundred years, had been revivedlately in the village, largely at the instance of Miss Aubrey, whoseartistic spirit revelled in such picturesque scenes. She had persuadedMr. Boswell, the local squire, to place a may-pole on a small green nearthe market hall, and she had herself taught the children of the Councilschool a number of charming folk dances. The schoolmaster and the vicarboth approved of the movement, and gave every facility andencouragement, and the children themselves were highly enthusiastic.This year it was proposed to have a more than usually elaborateperformance, and to take a collection in the streets in aid of thePrince of Wales's Fund. May Day fortunately fell on a Saturday, so, asthe festival had been well advertised, it was hoped that visitors wouldcome over from Carford and other places in the neighbourhood. Though theactual pageant was to be given by the Council school children, the girlsat Aireyholme rendered very valuable help. They made some of thedresses, plaited garlands, stitched knots of coloured ribbons, and last,but not least, were responsible for the collecting. Fifteen of theseniors, wearing Union Jack badges on their hats, and broad bands oftricolour ribbon tied under one arm and across the shoulder, were setapart for the task, each carrying a wooden box labelled: "Prince ofWales's Fund".
The festivities were to begin at three o'clock, to fit in with the timesof the local railway trains. The morning was a busy whirl ofpreparation. Miss Aubrey, with the monitresses as special helpers,flitted backwards and forwards between Aireyholme and the village,making last arrangements and putting finishing touches. Katrine andGwethyn had never before had the opportunity of witnessing such aspectacle, so they were full of excitement at the prospect. At half-pasttwo, Mrs. Franklin, mistresses, and girls sallied forth to the scene ofaction, and secured an admirable position on the steps of the markethall, whence they could have a good view of the proceedings.
It was a balmy, sunny day, and the lovely weather, combined with thequaint programme, had tempted many visitors from various places in thedistrict. The trains arrived full, and Heathwell for once wasoverflowing. Not only had people made use of the railway, but many hadcome on bicycles, and motor-cars added to the crush. The local shops,and even the cottages, had taken advantage of the occasion to selllemonade and ginger be
er, and had hung out home-written signs announcingtheir willingness to provide teas and store cycles. The village was _enfete_, and the general atmosphere was one of jollity and enjoyment.
The children were waiting in the school play-ground, under thesuperintendence of their teachers and Miss Aubrey. Precisely as thechurch clock struck three, the procession started. It was led by theband of the local corps of boy scouts, the drummer very proud indeed inthe possession of the orthodox leopard skin, which had been presentedonly the week before by a local magnate. After the scouts came a numberof children, dressed in Kate Greenaway costumes, and carrying Mayknots--sticks surmounted with wreaths of flowers and green leaves. Aband of little ones, representing fairies, heralded the approach of theMay Queen, who drove in great state in a tiny carriage drawn by a verysmall Shetland pony, led by a page resplendent in ribbons and buckles.The carriage was so covered with flowers that it well resembled the carof Friga, the spring goddess of Scandinavian mythology, who gave hername to Friday. No deity, classic or Teutonic, could have been prettierthan the flaxen-haired little maiden, who sat up stiffly, trying withgreat dignity to support her regal honours. Her courtiers walked behindher, and after came a band of morris dancers, jingling their bells asthey went. The pageant paraded down the High Street, made a circuitround the market hall, and drew up round the may-pole on the strip ofgreen. A platform had been erected here, with a throne for the Queen, soher little majesty was duly handed out of her carriage, and installed inthe post of honour. Amid ringing cheers the crown was placed on hercurly head, and the sceptre delivered to her, while small courtiersbowed with a very excellent imitation of mediaeval grace.
"What an absolute darling the Queen is!" remarked Gwethyn, who, withKatrine, was an ecstatic spectator.
"It's little Mary Gartley," replied Coralie Nelson. "They're thebest-looking family in the village--six children, and all have thoselovely flaxen curls. I never saw such beautiful hair. Look at that tinywee chap who's standing just by the pony. That's Hugh Gartley. Isn't hean absolute cherub? We've had him for a model at the studio. We call him'The School Mascot', because he's brought us such luck. Miss Aubrey'spicture of him has got into the Academy, and Gladwin Riley's sketch wonfirst prize in a magazine competition, and Hilda Smart's photo of himalso took a prize in a paper. He scored three successes for Aireyholme.He's the sweetest little rascal. Even Mrs. Franklin can't resist pattinghim on the head, and giving him biscuits."
"He's an absolute angel!" agreed the Marsdens enthusiastically.
When the coronation of the May Queen was duly accomplished, the sportsbegan. A band of dainty damsels, holding coloured ribbons, plaited andunplaited the may-pole, much to the admiration of the crowd, who encoredthe performance. The fairies gave a pretty exhibition, waving garlandsof flowers as they trod their fantastic measure; the morris dancerscapered their best, and the Boy Scouts' band did its utmost in providingthe music. It was a very charming scene; so quaint amid the old-worldsetting of the picturesque village that the spectators clapped andcheered with heartiest approval. The little actors, excited by theapplause, began to go beyond control, and to run about helter-skelter,waving their garlands and shouting "hurrah!" The crowd also was breakingup. A train was nearly due, and some of the visitors made a rush for thestation. A char-a-banc with three horses started from the "Bell andDragon". At that identical moment little Hugh Gartley, seeing someattraction on the opposite pavement, threw discipline to the winds anddashed suddenly across the road, in front of the very wheels of thepassing char-a-banc. Katrine happened to be watching him. With a leapand a run she was down the steps of the market hall and in the street.Before the child, or anyone else, realized his danger, she had snatchedhim from the front of the horses, and had dragged him on to thepavement. The driver pulled up in considerable alarm.
"It's not my fault," he protested. "Kids shouldn't bolt across likethat."
Finding there was no harm done, he drove on. The incident was over soquickly that it was hardly noticed by the general public. Little HughGartley, much scared, clung crying to Katrine's hand. She took him inher arms and comforted him with chocolates. He made friends readily, andinstead of rejoining the May dancers, insisted upon staying with her forthe rest of the performance. Katrine was fond of children, and enjoyedpetting the pretty little fellow. She kept him by her until theprocession passed on its return to the schoolhouse, then she made himslip in amongst the other masqueraders.
The fifteen collectors had been busy all the afternoon handing roundtheir boxes, and anticipated quite a good harvest.
"I shouldn't be surprised if we'd taken seven or eight pounds; manypeople put in silver," said Diana Bennett. "It will be grand when theboxes are opened."
"You missed the excitement near the market hall," volunteered Coralie."Katrine Marsden rescued Hugh Gartley from being run over. She snatchedhim back just in the nick of time."
"Oh, it was nothing!" protested Katrine.
"Indeed it was splendid presence of mind! He might have been killed ifyou hadn't dashed down so promptly and snatched him."
Katrine's action in saving the school mascot was soon noised abroadamong the girls, and brought her a quite unexpected spell of popularity,chiefly with the juniors and the Fifth Form, however. The Sixth, led bythe monitresses, still hung back, jealous of their privileges, andunwilling to tolerate one who persisted in considering herself a"parlour boarder", and, as they expressed it, "putting on side!" It wasreally mostly Katrine's own fault: her previous acquaintance with schoollife ought to have taught her wisdom; but seventeen is a crude age, andnot given to profiting by past experience. Some of the pin-pricks shesustained were well deserved.
On the evening of May Day, being a Saturday as well as a specialfestival, the monitresses decided to give a cocoa party in their study,and invite the rest of the form.
"We got eight pounds, fifteen and twopence halfpenny in the collectingboxes this afternoon," announced Viola, "and we ought to drink thehealth of the Prince of Wales's Fund in cocoa. We'll have a littlerag-time fun, too, just among ourselves."
"All serene!" agreed Diana. "This child's always ready for sport. Whatabout biscuits?"
"We may send out for what we like. I interviewed the Great Panjandrum,and she was affability itself."
"Good! Cocoanut fingers for me. And perhaps a few Savoys."
"Right-o! Make your list. Tomlinson is to go and fetch them."
"We shall have to borrow cups from the kitchen," said Dorrie, who hadbeen investigating inside the cupboard. "Since that last smash we'rerather low down in our china--only four cups left intact."
"Go and ask the cook for five more, then."
"Five? That'll only make nine."
"Quite enough."
"Aren't you going to invite Katrine Marsden?"
Viola pulled a long face.
"Is it necessary? She doesn't consider herself one of the Sixth."
"But she is, really. It seems rather marked to leave her out."
"Oh, well!" rather icily. "Ask her if you like, of course. I'm sure Idon't want to keep her out of things if she cares to join in."
Dorrie accordingly ran up to the studio, where Katrine was sittingputting a few finishing touches to the study of tulips upon which shehad been engaged during the last week.
"We're having a cocoa party at eight in our study. Awfully pleased tosee you. Just our own form," announced Dorrie heartily.
"Thanks very much," returned Katrine casually, "but I really don't thinkI shall have time to come. I want to finish these tulips."
"Isn't it getting too dark for painting?"
"Oh, no! The light's good for some time yet, and Miss Aubrey's probablycoming upstairs to go on with her still-life study. I love sitting withher. She's most inspiring."
"Comme vous voulez, mademoiselle!" answered Dorrie, retiring in highdudgeon to report to her fellow-monitresses. They were most indignant atthe slight.
"Cheek!"
"Turns up her nose at our invitation, does she?"
"She can please herself, I'm sure."
"She's no loss, at any rate."
"Look here!" said Dorrie. "I've got an idea. We'll pay her out for this.She's counting on Miss Aubrey going to sit with her in the studio, andhaving a delightful _tete a tete_. Let's ask Miss Aubrey to our cocoaparty."
"Splendiferous!"
"Girl alive, you're a genius! Go instanter!"
Dorrie hurried off to deliver her second invitation. It was moregraciously received than the first.
"Oh! I'm only too flattered! I shall be delighted to turn up. May Ibring a contribution to the feast?" beamed Miss Aubrey.
"Done Katrine Marsden for once!" chuckled Dorrie, communicating the goodtidings in the study. "She'll be fearfully sick when she finds her idolhas deserted her for us."
"I sincerely hope she will."
At eight o'clock an extremely jolly party assembled in the little roomunderneath the studio, all prepared to abandon themselves to enjoyment,to crack jokes, sing catches, ask riddles, or indulge in anything thatsavoured of fun. There were not chairs for all, but nobody mindedsitting on the floor. Viola's spirit-lamp was on the table, and thekettle steamed cheerily; tins of cocoa and condensed milk and packets ofbiscuits were spread forth with the row of cups and saucers. MissAubrey, throned in a basket-chair, with girls quarrelling for theprivilege of sitting near her, held a kind of impromptu court.
"It's been a ripping May Day. Everybody was saying how well you'dengineered the whole thing," Viola assured her. "The folk dances werejust too sweet! Those Americans who came in that big car were inraptures. They dropped half a sovereign into my box. They said the MayQueen was the prettiest child they'd ever seen."
"Mary Gartley is only second to Hugh," replied Miss Aubrey. "I hear thelittle chap nearly got run over this afternoon, and Katrine Marsdenrescued him. Where is Katrine, by the by?"
For a moment an awkward silence reigned.
"She's in the studio. We invited her, but she wouldn't come,"volunteered Dorrie at last.
"Oh!" said Miss Aubrey, with a gleam of comprehension.
Upstairs, Katrine was painting away rather half-heartedly. She wonderedwhy her beloved art-mistress did not arrive. It would be delightful tohave her all to herself, without those schoolgirls. The door burst open,and Gwethyn came rushing tumultuously in.
"Kattie! The Fifth are giving a Mad Hatter's party! We're going to havethe most screaming fun! They've asked you, so do come, quick!"
"Oh, I don't care about it, child! I'm waiting here for Miss Aubrey."
"Miss Aubrey? Why, she's gone to the Sixth Form party! I saw her walkinginto their study with a box of chocolates and a bag of something in herhand. They're at it hard!"
A glimpse of Katrine's face at that moment might have soothed theinjured feelings of the monitresses. From below rose unmistakable soundsof mirth to confirm Gwethyn's words.
"Aren't you coming? Do hurry up!" urged Gwethyn impatiently.
But to join in the festivities of the Fifth Form after declining thoseof the Sixth was too great a come-down for Katrine's dignity.
"Run along, Baby! I don't care for nonsense parties. I'd rather stay andpaint," she replied, with an air of sang-froid that was perhaps slightlyoverdone.
"Tantrums? Well, you're a jolly silly, that's all I can say; for we'regoing to have ripping fun!" chirruped Gwethyn, shutting the door with aslam.