CHAPTER XVI
A Friend in Need
MISS POPPLETON, having, as she deemed, successfully detected Gipsy inher misdoings, was determined to force her into making a fullconfession. The girl's repeated denials she regarded as mere stubborneffrontery, and after several stormy scenes she had locked her up in thedressing-room, to try if a spell of solitary confinement would reduceher to submission. Poor Gipsy, agitated, overstrung, burning with asense of fierce anger against the injustice of her summary condemnation,had faced the Principal almost like an animal at bay, and defying herutterly, had persisted in sticking without deviation to her own versionof the story.
"You'll gain nothing by this obstinacy!" stormed Miss Poppleton. "I'llmake you see who is in authority here! Do you actually imagine I shallallow a girl like you to set herself against the head of the school?Here you stay until you own the truth and beg my pardon."
"Then I'll stop here till I'm grown up, for I've told the truthalready," returned Gipsy desperately.
She had kept up a brave front in opposition to Miss Poppleton'saccusations; but after the key had turned in the lock, and the sound offootsteps died away down the passage, she sank wearily into a chair, andburying her hot face in her trembling hands, sobbed her heart out. Shefelt so utterly deserted, friendless and alone. There seemed nobody towhom she might turn for help or counsel, nobody in all the wide, wideworld who belonged to her, and would defend her and take her part.Everything appeared to have conspired against her, and this final andmost crushing blow was the last straw. Gipsy clenched her fists in anagony of hopelessness. "Oh, Dad, Dad! why don't you come back?" shemoaned, and the utter futility of the question added to her misery.Outside the sun was shining and the birds were singing cheerily--theyhad their mates and their nests, while she had not even a relation toclaim her. She could hear the voices of the girls as they took theireleven o'clock recreation; each one had a joyful home to return to, andparents or friends who would shield and protect her.
"I've never had a home!" choked Gipsy. "Oh! I wonder why some people arealways left out of everything?"
Then she sat up suddenly, for there was the sound of a hesitatingfootstep in the passage. The key turned, the door opened gently, andMiss Edith, very nervous and excited, entered the room.
"Oh, Gipsy!" she began tremulously, "Miss Poppleton doesn't know I'mhere, but I felt I must come. Oh! you poor, naughty, naughty child, whydid you do it? How could you, Gipsy? I'd never have thought it possible.Oh, do be a good girl and own up! Miss Poppleton will forgive you ifyou'll only tell the truth--and you know you ought to! For the sake ofwhat's right, be brave, and don't go on with this dreadful tissue oflies--it's too wicked and terrible!"
Miss Edith's eyes were full of tears. She laid her hand tenderly on thegirl's shoulder, and looked at her with a world of reproach in hertwitching face. If Miss Poppleton's scolding had been hard to endure,Miss Edith's concern was far worse. Gipsy seized the kind hand, and heldit tightly.
"Oh, Miss Edie, I can't bear you to misjudge me!" she exclaimedbitterly. "Indeed, if you only knew, I am telling the absolute, wholetruth. Have I ever told you an untruth before?"
"No, Gipsy. But this, alas! has been so conclusively proved."
"But has it? It all rests on my wet waterproof and galoshes. I don'tknow how they got wet, but I do know that I didn't go out in them, andif I said I did, why, then I should be really telling a falsehood."
Miss Edith sighed with disappointment, and drew her hand reluctantlyaway.
"I thought I might have influenced you, Gipsy," she said, with a littlesad catch in her voice. "I'm not clever like my sister, but you werealways fond of me. I can't put things as she does, but I should haveliked to make you feel that doing right is worth while for the sake ofyour own conscience. Oh, you poor misguided child, do think it over, andmake an effort! You'll be glad all your life afterwards if you own yourfault, and start afresh. I can't stay any longer now--and you've noneed to tell Miss Poppleton that I came--but I'll be your friend, Gipsy,if you'll only confess."
She lingered a moment, half hopefully; then, as Gipsy only shook herhead in reply, she gave up her useless attempt, and went sorrowfullyaway. In black despair Gipsy mentally went over the conversation,wondering how she could have convinced Miss Edith of her innocence. Shecould not allow herself to be cajoled by kindness into a confession ofwhat she had not done, any more than she could permit herself to becoerced by severity. Miss Edith might use gentle persuasion, and MissPoppleton might try to cow her and break her spirit, but neither shouldsucceed in forcing her to a false admission.
Helen Roper came up at dinner-time with a plate of meat and vegetablesin one hand and a glass of water in the other. She slammed them downhastily on the table, with a scornful glance at the prisoner.
"That's all you'll get," she remarked brusquely. "Miss Poppleton saysyou don't deserve pudding to-day. And quite right, too! Bread andwater'd be enough for you, in my opinion. Why haven't you the pluck toface things in an honourable way, and say you're sorry for what you'vedone? I never much cared for you, but I thought better of you than this.For the sake of the school, do let's have an end of this wretchedbusiness! 'Noblesse oblige' has been our motto, and I hoped every girlwould have risen to it. Have you no self-respect?"
"Yes--too much to say I've done what I haven't," retorted Gipsy,glowering her defiance.
Helen shrugged her shoulders.
"Miss Poppleton says you're as obstinate as a mule, and she's aboutright!" she remarked tartly, as she banged the door and locked itnoisily behind her. Gipsy was not hungry, so the plentiful supply ofmeat and vegetables was quite sufficient for her needs, and the lack ofpudding was no grievance. Helen's severe censure hurt her desperately.Had the girls all condemned her equally without fair trial, and withoutsifting the evidence against her? Did Hetty, and Dilys, and Meg, andLennie, her own particular friends, consider her guilty? Had they nobetter belief in her honour than that? Had everybody forsaken her? Gipsypushed her half-finished plateful aside. She was choking too much withsobs to swallow another morsel.
"There isn't a single soul here who cares! I shall have to go away andfind Dad!" she exploded in a kind of desperation, standing up andscrubbing her eyes with her wet pocket-handkerchief.
In the meantime Gipsy's friends had not altogether abandoned her, as shesupposed. They had been on the alert all the morning to discover somemeans of communicating with her, though, owing to Miss Poppleton'svigilance, their efforts had so far met with ill success. Any girl foundloitering in the vicinity of the passage that led to the dressing-roomhad been packed off in a most summary fashion, with a warning not toshow herself there again under penalty of an imposition. After dinner,however, Meg, who had secret plans of her own, managed to dodge MissLindsay, and by creeping under the laurels in the plantation made herway to a forbidden part of the garden which commanded a view of thedressing-room window. Exactly underneath this window stood a greenhousewith a sloping glass roof, and at the corner of the greenhouse there wasa long down spout to drain the gutters above. Meg advanced under coverof the bushes with the caution of a scout, and reviewed the positioncarefully before she ventured into the open.
"I believe I can manage it," she murmured. "My toe would fit into thathole, and I could catch hold of the bracket. I haven't learntmountaineering for nothing, and if I could tackle that crag on HawesFell I oughtn't to be stumped by a gutter pipe. I flatter myself there'snot another girl in the school who could do it, though. Betweenhalf-past one and two is a good time. Probably no one will be round atthis side of the house, but I shall have to risk something, and trust toluck."
The down spout certainly put Meg's climbing powers to the utmost test.It was smooth and slippery, while the footholds in the wall were of thevery slenderest. With considerable difficulty she swung herself up, andcreeping over the roof of the greenhouse reached the small railedbalcony that gave access to the dressing-room window. She peeped in.There was Gipsy, sitting, doing nothing, and looking the picture ofdis
consolate misery.
"Gipsy!" called Meg, under her breath.
"Hello! It's never you! Oh, Meg, you angel!"
"Don't make such an idiotic noise, but help me in quietly. Mum's theword! How are you getting on here?"
"Come in and I'll tell you. But you'll have to whisk out pretty quicklyif we hear Poppie's fairy footsteps in the passage. We must listen withboth ears open while we talk."
"Trust me! Oh, Gipsy, we're all so sorry for you!"
"You believe in me, then? How does the school take it?"
"Variously. Some are for you, and some are against. Dilys and Lennie andHetty of course stand up for you hard, and funnily enough so doesLeonora. She took your part this morning quite hotly, and had such aquarrel with Maude and Gladys that she won't speak to them. I didn'tthink Leonora would have behaved so decently. The Seniors are verydubious, especially Helen Roper."
"Yes, Helen lashed into me when she brought my dinner. She's alwaysready to think the worst of me."
"Poppie's furious," continued Meg. "She says you're only making yourpunishment worse by obstinate falsehoods, and she means to make anexample of you."
"What's she going to do?" asked Gipsy with apprehension.
"I don't know--she didn't condescend to tell us."
"Look here, I'm sick of the whole business!" said Gipsy bitterly. "I'mnot wanted at Briarcroft. Poppie'd be only too delighted to get rid ofme. I'm not going to stay here any longer to be ordered about andscolded, and accused of things I've never done. I'll run away. If youcan climb up the greenhouse roof, I can climb down it."
"Oh, Gipsy! Where will you go? Come to us! We'd hide you somewhere athome, and Mother wouldn't give you up to Poppie, I know!"
But Gipsy shook her head emphatically. The very fact of the Gordons'kindness made it impossible for her to trespass upon their generosity.She knew that if she were to seek sanctuary at their house, she wouldplace Mrs. Gordon in a most awkward and difficult position, and hernatural delicacy of feeling caused her to shrink from such a course. Itwould be a poor return indeed for their former hospitality.
"No, Meg; it's awfully good of you, but I must go farther away thanthat. I'm off to Liverpool. Don't look so staggered; I've quite made upmy mind!"
"Liverpool! Why, that's miles and miles away! How will you go? And whatwill you do when you get there?"
"I shall manage somehow to sell my watch. It's a gold one, you know, soit ought to be worth enough to pay my railway fare, at any rate. Itbelonged to my mother, and I wouldn't have parted with it under anyother circumstances than these. Thank goodness I put it on this morning!I don't wear it always. When I get to Liverpool I have a plan. CaptainSmith--the captain of the vessel we were wrecked on--lives at a suburbcalled Waterloo. I'll enquire and enquire till I find the house. If he'sat home, it's just possible that he could give me some little hint aboutmy father. Dad might have dropped something in talking to him that hedid not tell to me. I believe Captain Smith would help me if he could."
"But suppose he's gone to sea again?"
"That's quite likely. I've thought of that too. Well, I mean to go tosome of the shipping offices, and see if they'll give me a post on aSouth African liner as assistant stewardess. Don't look so frightfullyaghast! It's work I could do very well, though it wouldn't be pleasant.I've travelled so much about the world that I'm absolutely at home onboard ship. I know all the ins and outs of voyaging, and I'm a splendidsailor, never seasick in the least. I could make myself most uncommonlyuseful. I'd buy a packet of hairpins and tuck up my hair so that I'dlook much older, and I believe they'd engage me, because it's sodifficult sometimes to meet with assistant stewardesses. I'm nearlyfifteen now, and I'd rather earn my own living like that than stay hereat Briarcroft on Poppie's charity. American and Colonial girls are neverashamed to work. When I get out to Cape Town, I'll go to theheadmistress of the school where I stopped three months. She was atrump, and I believe she'd help me to find Dad."
So bold a plan almost took Meg's breath away, yet its ambitious daringappealed strongly to her schoolgirl imagination. She had absolutely noknowledge of the world, and the scheme which an older person would haveinstantly vetoed sounded to her inexperienced young ears not onlyperfectly feasible, but delightfully enterprising and romantic. Sheentered into it with enthusiasm, absolutely certain that anything thatGipsy proposed must be right. Having worshipped her friend for so long,she could not believe her idol's judgment would be at fault.
"I'll tell you what we'll do!" she exclaimed. "Let's change dresses!Then if Poppie tries to follow you, it will throw her off the scent.Mine's longer than yours, too, so it will be better for a stewardess."
"Won't they notice it in school? It might give the thing away,"hesitated Gipsy.
"It's Drawing the whole afternoon with Mr. Cobb, and he won't know thedifference. Quick, or somebody may be coming! Take my hat too. I'll getyours out of the cupboard, or go home without one. None of the girlswould tell, and I'll dodge mistresses."
It did not take very long for the pair to effect an exchange ofcostumes. They were soon arrayed in each other's dresses, an arrangementwhich was certainly more to Gipsy's advantage than Meg's. They knewthere was no time to be lost, so, swinging themselves over the balconyrailings, they began creeping cautiously down the greenhouse roof. Theyhad just about reached the middle when Meg, who was first, suddenlystopped with a stifled exclamation, and lay as flat and as still as shecould. Gipsy naturally followed suit, and looking downwards saw thereason for the alarm. They were in horrible and imminent danger ofdiscovery. Miss Poppleton herself had entered the conservatory below,and with a little watering can in her hand began to attend to herplants. Would she look up and notice the two dark bodies on the roofabove her?
Gipsy felt she had never been so thrillingly interested in gardening inthe whole of her life. She watched while the geraniums and fuchsiasreceived their due sprinkling, and held her breath when the Principalappeared about to stretch up to a hanging basket. Most fortunately forthe two girls, she changed her mind, and evidently thinking there wasnot enough water in the can, emptied the remainder on a box ofseedlings, and went into the house for a fresh supply.
"Now!" breathed Meg. "As quick as you can, without putting your heelsthrough the glass!"
"It was the nearest squeak!" gasped Gipsy, as the pair, after a rapidslide down the gutter pipe, reached the ground in safety. "She'll becoming back directly."
"Rush under the shrubs--quick!" said Meg. "Oh, I say! There's the bell!I must fly. I daren't walk in late, or your dress might be noticed atcall-over."
"I'm off too, then," returned Gipsy. "When Poppie unlocks thedressing-room door, she'll find the bird has flown!"
"Goodbye! I can't wait! Oh, Gipsy! when shall I see you again?"
"Some day. I promise that! The bell's stopping! You'll be late, Meg, ifyou don't scoot."
Torn in two between her reluctance to part from her friend and heranxiety to be in time for call-over, Meg hurried away without furtherfarewell; and Gipsy, in wildest fear of detection, metaphoricallyspeaking burnt her boats, and darting through the side gate, ran withall possible speed down the high-road.