Read The Madcap of the School Page 9


  CHAPTER VIII

  The Beano

  After the events related in the last chapter, the monitresses suddenlyawakened to a sense of their responsibility as leaders of the school.Particularly Veronica. She had a sensitive disposition, and MissBeasley's reproof rankled. She determined to set an example to theyounger ones, and to be zealous in keeping order and enforcing rules.She held a surprise inspection of the juniors' desks and drawers, andpounced upon illicit packets of chocolate; she examined their books,and confiscated any which she considered unsuitable; she put a banupon slang, and wrote out a new set of dormitory regulations. Herefforts were hardly so much appreciated as they deserved. The girlsgrumbled at this unanticipated tightening of the reins.

  "We've always bought sweets and kept them in our desks," declared JoanButler. "I believe Veronica used to do it herself."

  "Life wouldn't be worth living without chocolates!" mourned NoraFawcitt.

  "And we always used to scramble for the bathroom in the mornings, eversince I've been here," groused Dorothy Newstead. "It's no fun to waitin a queue."

  The Fifth fared no better than the Fourth, and being older, theirindignation was even hotter.

  "Veronica took away _Adam Bede_, and said it wasn't 'suitable'!" fumedAveline. "She told me I might read Scott and Dickens instead. And I'djust got to the interesting part! It's too idiotic!"

  "I can't see why Veronica need act censor to all our reading," agreedKatherine bitterly. "Why should we be allowed Jane Austen and notCharlotte Bronte?"

  "Little girls mustn't read love stories!" mocked Raymonde.

  "But they're all love stories--Scott's and Dickens's and Jane Austen'sand everyone's! How about Shakespeare? There's heaps of love-making in_Romeo and Juliet_, and we took that with Professor Marshall!"

  "I don't think Gibbie ever quite approved of it. She thought itindiscreet of the Professor, I'm sure, and likely to put ideas intoour heads!"

  "Does she expect we'll go eloping over the garden wall? Perhaps that'swhy she keeps such a vigilant look-out with the telescope!"

  "It's quite bad enough to have Gibbie always on our trail," saidArdiune gloomily, "but when it comes to Veronica turning watch-dog aswell, I call it an outrage!"

  "I think Fifth-Form girls have responsibilities as well asmonitresses," grunted Raymonde. "It's not good for Veronica to takelife so earnestly! She'll grow old before her time. The Bumble'salways rubbing it into us to make the most of our girlhood, and not belittle premature women, so I vote we live up to her theory. It'sVeronica's last term here. She ought to be bubbling and girlish, andcarry away happy memories of her light-hearted school-days when shegoes out into the wide world to be a woman. I consider it's our dutyto look after this. The Bumble says the value of school life consistsin its 'give and take'. We're taking a good deal from Veronica atpresent, so we must give her something back. Let's teach her to bekittenish and playful."

  The chums exploded. The idea of the serious-minded Veronica developinga bubbling or kittenish manner was too much for them.

  "We did pretty well when we took Maudie Heywood in hand," urgedRaymonde. "She's wonderfully improved. Never exceeds the speed limitin her lessons, and if she writes extra essays she keeps them toherself, and doesn't flaunt them before the Form. And there wasCynthia Greene, too! We don't hear a word about The Poplars now, orher wretched bracelet. It may be difficult, perhaps, but we'll do ourbest with Veronica. We must regard ourselves as sort ofmissionaries."

  Having decided that it was their vocation to cultivate a spirit ofartless happiness in the school, the Mystic Seven set to work onVeronica. She did not respond to their efforts; on the contrary, sheseemed to resent them. When they attempted to introduce lighter veinsof conversation, she reproached them with being frivolous. She frownedon riddles, limericks, and puns. One day she so far forgot herself asto murmur "Cheeky kids!"

  Raymonde, with a shocked and grieved expression, looked at theilluminated card deprecating the use of slang, which had lately beenhung in the lecture hall, and Veronica flounced out of the room.

  That night, when the monitress went to bed, her sponge, nail-brush,tooth-brush, and cake of soap were missing, and it was only after along search that she found them at the bottom of her emptiedwater-jug. On the next evening it was impossible for her to strike alight, owing to the fact that both her candle and matches had beencarefully soaked beforehand in water.

  Veronica felt it was high time to lay the matter before herfellow-monitresses. They decided that such flagrant cases ofinsubordination must be promptly dealt with. In order to catch theoffenders they laid a trap, Linda and Daphne concealing themselves inVeronica's bedroom, while Veronica herself walked ostentatiously inthe courtyard.

  As they had expected, it was not long before two stealthy figures cametiptoeing in, and were taken red-handed in the very act ofconstructing an apple-pie bed. The vials of wrath which descended uponthe would-be practical jokers were enough to damp the spirits of evensuch madcaps as Raymonde and Aveline. After all, monitresses aremonitresses, and to affront them is rather like twisting a lion'stail. Miss Gibbs herself could not have been more scathing in hersarcasms than Linda. For once the Mystics retired crushed, and with adue respect for their seniors.

  It was not in the nature of things, however, for Raymonde's spirits toremain long below zero. After a decent period of immersion they oncemore rose to the surface. The occasion of their revival was sufficientto awaken enthusiasm in the most down-trodden and monitress-ridden ofschool-girls.

  A report was rumoured through the Grange; nobody seemed to know quitewhere it started, or what was the fount of information, but everybodysaid it was perfectly true, and girl whispered to girl the astoundingsecret.

  "The Bumble and the Wasp are going out to dinner on Thursday, and areto stay the night, only we're not supposed to get a hint of it, sodon't breathe a word, or let on you've heard."

  Circumstantial evidence seemed to confirm the statement. Emily, thesewing-maid, had been seen in the linen-room employed on somerenovations to Miss Beasley's best evening dress; Miss Gibbs'ssuit-case had been brought down from the box-room to have its lock andhandles polished; and Dorothy Newstead, concealed behind a laurel bushduring a game of "Hide-and-seek," had overheard the Principal giveinstructions to the gardener to order a conveyance for Thursdayevening at half-past six. Certainly nothing could be more conclusive.Excitement was rife. Never in all the annals of the school had MissBeasley and Miss Gibbs together taken a night off!

  "It seems a shame to waste such a golden opportunity!" said Raymondeenthusiastically. "Gibbie was talking to us only to-day about seizingour opportunities.

  "'Gather ye rosebuds while ye may, Old Time is still a-flying, And this same flower that smiles to-day To-morrow will be dying!'

  She quoted it most impressively."

  "She didn't go on to the verse about getting married while you'd thechance, though!" chuckled Ardiune.

  "No, my child. Such a subject as matrimony is not supposed to be afitting topic for a ladies' school. Gibbie always gracefully shelvesit. But you're side-tracking, and I want to get back to my point. Iwas talking of opportunities, and never in the whole of ourschool-days shall we get such another as next Thursday. How are wegoing to make use of it? I vote for a beano in our dormitory."

  "What's a 'beano'?" demanded Fauvette's plaintive voice. "You'realways saying things I don't understand."

  "You're young, child!" returned Raymonde indulgently, "and you can'tbe expected to know everything. A beano is a bean-feast. Now don'tlook alarmed! We're not going to eat beans; we'll have something farmore appetizing--sardines, and tinned peaches, and biscuits, andanything else we can get. If the Bumble and the Wasp gad off to enjoythemselves, why shouldn't we make a night of it too?"

  "How about those kids?"

  "They'll join in. It shall be an affair for the whole dormitory. We'llshare the treat, for once!"

  "You won't get the monitresses
to join," interposed Katherinedubiously.

  "Shan't ask them! I've settled all that in my mind. You know the bigoak door across the passage that leads to their rooms? Well, I'm goingto fasten it after they've gone to bed, and lock them up in their ownquarters."

  "That would be all right, old sport, if there were a key, but thereisn't."

  "Morvyth Holmes, d'you think I'm an infant? I know perfectly wellthere isn't a key. I'm going to fix a screw in the door and another inthe doorpost beforehand, and then twist some strong wire across. It'llact like a lock."

  The Mystics stared at their leader in admiration. Her resourcefulnessknew no bounds. With the monitresses safely boxed up in theirbedrooms, any jinks would be possible in the dormitory. Of coursethere remained Mademoiselle, but she slept at the other side of thehouse, and from past experience they judged that she was more likelyto devote the evening to her own pleasure than to an over-strictattention to duty. The juniors, when sounded on the subject, respondedto a girl. Even Cynthia Greene assented gleefully. Every occupant ofthe dormitory vowed with a solemn oath to preserve the secret at allcosts. A fund was opened to defray expenses. How to get the provisionswas the main difficulty. There was not a single servant in theestablishment whom they felt was absolutely to be trusted.

  "I believe even that new little Lizzie would go and sneak to theBumble," sighed Raymonde. "We shall have to go for the thingsourselves. There's nothing else for it. Who'll volunteer? Oh! not allof you! We can't trot off in a body. Look here, I'll go withMorvyth."

  The village, which lay half a mile away from the Grange, was out ofbounds. It would be an extremely risky proceeding for two girls, inthe ordinary brown serge uniform and conspicuous hats of the school,to enter a shop and make purchases. Some tiresome busybody would besure to see them, and report the matter to Miss Beasley.

  "It's a case of disguising ourselves," decided Raymonde. "The maidskeep their waterproofs and hats in the passage near the kitchen. We'llturn up our hair, borrow what garments we want, and dash off betweenprep. and supper. Anyone noticing us on the road will think we're newservants from some house in the neighbourhood."

  The audacity of the project almost staggered Morvyth, but as a memberof the Mystic Seven she was pledged to follow her leader, and wouldnot for worlds have displayed symptoms of the white feather, thoughher more cautious soul began to calculate consequences if caught.There were so many pitfalls in the path--servants, monitresses, andmistresses must be outwitted, both in going and returning, to maketheir excursion a success. The juniors, however, played up nobly. At aconcerted hour, they managed by cleverly concocted excuses to engagethe attention of all the monitresses, and hold them busy for fiveminutes explaining details of lessons or fancy work. Meantime, Avelineand Valentine purloined waterproofs of a suitable length, togetherwith appropriate hats, from the passage near the kitchen.

  Raymonde and Morvyth, after a rapid toilet and a hasty review ofthemselves in a looking-glass, were pleased with their appearance,especially the way they wore their hats.

  "Tilt yours a little more on one side," commanded Raymonde, "and openyour mouth with a sort of cod-fishy expression, as if you'd gotadenoids. Remember, you want to look as common as possible. Drop yourh's when you speak, wherever you can. Say you're in a 'urry to getback. I shall sniff all the time, as if I'd a bad cold."

  "I shall laugh if you do!"

  "No, you won't, because we're going to different shops. I'll doAdcock's, and you shall have Seymour's. It'll be far better than goingtogether."

  Under cover of a guard of Form-mates the conspirators managed to slippast the barns and off the premises, secure in the knowledge that MissGibbs was correcting exercises in the study, so could not possibly bewatching them through her too useful telescope. Before arriving at thevillage they separated, Raymonde going a little in advance, andMorvyth following, as if they had no acquaintance with each other. Itwas perhaps as well for their mutual composure that they visitedseparate shops, for Morvyth's provincial accent and Raymonde's coldmight have been mirth-provoking to a fellow conspirator, though theypassed muster well enough with strangers. At the end of ten minutesthe two girls were hurrying back, each armed with a large parcel.These were handed at once to scouts when they reached the Grange, andtheir costumes were removed in the barn, and replaced without delay ontheir hooks in the kitchen passage by Valentine and Ardiune.

  So far so good. The commissariat department had managed to run theblockade of school regulations, and secure provisions for theentertainment. No Tommies looting supplies from the enemy's trenchescould have felt prouder.

  When the eventful Thursday arrived, great anxiety was felt as towhether the Principal and her assistant were really and actually goingout or not. They did not announce their intention, and gave no hint ofthe matter. Little Nancie Page, however, sent to Miss Gibbs's roomwith a message, reported having seen that lady engaged in packing hersuit-case, which was taken as proof conclusive of the contemplatedexpedition.

  "We'll be subdued saints all supper-time!" suggested Raymonde. "Let'stalk intelligently to the monitresses about intellectual subjects--thedeeper the better. Make them think we're going to bed with our mindsfixed on Egyptology, and the wonders of the microscope, and the Bagdadrailway, and the future of European politics. Be sure you go upstairsvery quietly. Anyone who laughs will give the show away."

  The behaviour of the school that evening was a subject of satisfactionto Veronica and her fellow monitresses.

  "I was afraid," remarked the head girl, "that they might takeadvantage when they saw Miss Beasley's and Miss Gibbs's places emptyat supper, but they seemed to feel on their honour to be steadier thanusual. I really think their tone is improving. Raymonde Armitage wasparticularly quiet."

  "Yes," returned Daphne dubiously. "So she was; but if Raymonde has aquiet fit like that on, I generally look out for squalls afterwards."

  When Mademoiselle went the round of the dormitory that night at 9.30,she found absolute peace and tranquillity reigning. Apparently theoccupants of the nineteen beds were already wrapt in well-earnedrepose. One or two were even snoring slightly. Mademoiselle heaved asigh of relief, and went off thankfully to her own bedroom to writeletters. She did not consider it necessary to interrupt herself atthis occupation. Miss Gibbs had indeed urged the expediency of asurprise visit at about 10 p.m., but Mademoiselle had no vocation forenforcing discipline, and was not over-burdened with conscientiousscruples. Moreover, she considered that, if her Principal took anevening off, she might be licensed to do the same.

  The conspirators had decided not to begin the celebrations too early.With heroic self-restraint they remained quietly in bed until 10.30.By that hour monitresses and servants alike would probably be asleep.Mademoiselle, at the far end of the house, on the other side of thebig staircase, would hear nothing.

  When the charmed moment arrived, everybody sprang up and lightedcandles. Raymonde hurried into pink dressing-gown and bedroomslippers, and crept up the passage to the door which led to themonitresses' rooms. She had inserted her screws earlier in theevening, so with the aid of a pair of pliers, purloined from thewood-carving bench, it did not take her long to fix her wire andsecure the door. She came back chuckling.

  "If they should hear any slight sounds of revelry, and try to comeupon the scenes, they'll just find themselves jolly well locked in!"she remarked with gusto.

  "Perhaps they'll think Mademoiselle's done it!" suggested Ardiune.

  Preparations for the feast were proceeding briskly. Two beds, pulledinto the middle of the room, formed the table, and on these thecomestibles were spread forth. The village shops had not offered avery wide range of dainties, but there were sardines, and cannedpeaches, and biscuits, and three Huntley & Palmer's cakes, rather dry,because they had been kept in a tin box, probably since lastChristmas. The drinkable was lemon kali, served in bedroom tumblers,and stirred up with lead-pencils or tooth-brush handles.

  Everybody was busy. Morvyth and Valentine were opening the tins withwood-carvin
g implements; Ardiune was performing an abstrusearithmetical calculation as to how to cut up three cakes into nineteenexactly even portions, while Katherine waited with the penknife ready.Even the hitherto irreproachable Maudie Heywood and Cynthia Greenewere occupied with scissors, making plates out of sheets of exercisepaper. Beds drawn up alongside the impromptu table served for seats,and the girls crowded together as closely as they could. Raymonde andMorvyth, by virtue of their expedition to the shops, were votedmistresses of the ceremonies, and dispensed the provisions. Sardineson biscuits were the first course, followed by canned peaches, thejuiciness of which was a decided difficulty, as there was not asolitary spoon with which to fish them up from the tin.

  "Never mind, I'll spear them with a lead-pencil and stick them onbiscuits, and you must drink the syrup in the glasses. I dare sayit'll mix all right with lemon kali," purred Raymonde, thoroughly inher element as hostess.

  The fun waxed furious, and it only increased when the sardine tinupset in the middle of one of the temporary tables.

  "But it's my bed!" wailed Cynthia Greene.

  "Cheer up! Someone's got to make a sacrifice for the good of theassembly, and you see the lot's fallen on you," said Raymondeconsolingly. "You ought to be proud to have your bed chosen!"

  "I'd just as soon it had been yours!" grumbled Cynthia. "I shan't likesleeping in a puddle of oil!"

  "If you grouse any more, I'll empty the can of peaches on your pillow,so shut up!" commanded the mistress of the ceremonies. "A beano's abeano, and we're going to enjoy ourselves."

  "If we make too much noise, though----" suggested Maudie Heywood.

  Ardiune snapped her up promptly.

  "We'll make what noise we like! What does it matter? The monitressesare locked out, and Mademoiselle will never hear. We've got the placeto ourselves to-night, thank goodness! Just for once, Mother Soup'sroom down there is vacant!"

  "Empty is the cradle, baby's gone!" mocked Morvyth.

  "'Xpect she's having the time of her life at the dinner-party."

  "Well, we'll have ours!"

  A quarter of an hour later the dormitory presented a convivial scene.An orchestra of five, seated on a hastily cleared dressing-table, wereperforming music with combs, while the rest of the company waltzedbetween the beds, with intervals of the fox-trot. Maudie Heywood andCynthia Greene had accepted the inevitable, and joined the multitude.Apparently they were enjoying themselves. Maudie's cheeks werescarlet, and Cynthia's long fair hair floated out picturesquely as shetwirled round in Elsie Moseley's arms.

  "We're certainly making the most of our bubbling girlhood!" murmuredRaymonde with satisfaction. "The Bumble couldn't call us littlepremature women to-night!"

  The dark anti-zepp curtains swayed in the night breeze, and thecandles flared and guttered, the musicians tootled at theirtissue-paper covered combs with tingling lips, faster and fasterwhirled the dancers, the fun was at its zenith, when quite suddenlythe unexpected happened. The door of Miss Gibbs's room opened, andthat grim lady herself stood on the threshold.

  If a spectre had made its appearance in their midst, the girls couldnot have been more disconcerted. A horrible hush spread over the room,and for a moment everybody stared in frozen horror. The musiciansslipped down from the dressing-table and scuttled towards their ownbeds.

  "H'm! So this is how you are to be trusted!" remarked Miss Gibbstartly, advancing towards the scene of the beano, and hastily castingan eye over the empty tins and crumby remains of the repast. "Movethis rubbish away, and push those beds back to their places. Now getinto bed, every one of you! Not a single sound more is to be heardto-night. We'll settle up this matter to-morrow."

  Having seen each occupant of the dormitory ensconced between hersheets (Cynthia did not dare to complain that hers were sardiny!) MissGibbs went back to her own room, leaving the door wide open. With anenraged dragon in such close vicinity the girls did not venture tostir, and silence reigned for the rest of the night. At the firstcoming of the dawn, however, Raymonde rose with infinite precaution,and stole barefoot along the passage to remove her wire and screwsfrom the oak door. She accomplished that task without discovery, and,after hiding the screw-driver behind a wardrobe, crept back to bed.

  Nineteen subdued penitents, clothed in mental sackcloth and ashes,went down to breakfast next morning. Their fears were not withoutfoundation, for when Miss Beasley returned at ten o'clock they weresummoned to the most unpleasant interview they ever remembered, fromwhich the more soft-hearted of them emerged sobbing. They spentSaturday afternoon in the schoolroom writing punishment tasks, whilethe monitresses went boating on the river. It was trying to see Daphneand Hermie coming downstairs in their nice white dresses and blueties, and to know that they themselves were debarred the excursion.They hung about the hall sulkily.

  "It's your own faults," moralized Veronica. "After that disgracefulbusiness on Thursday, you couldn't expect anything else. We heard youplainly enough, and we were utterly disgusted. I'd like to know wholocked that passage door. I have my suspicions," with an eye onRaymonde.

  The babyish innocence of Raymonde's face at that moment might haveserved an artist as a model for a child angel.

  "Have you? It's a pity to harbour suspicion!" she returned sweetly."We ought to learn to trust our schoolfellows! I loathe Veronica," sheadded in a whisper to Ardiune, as the monitress tripped cheerily tothe door.