CHAPTER TWELVE.
HOME AGAIN.
The week of examination passed slowly by, and the morning dawned whenthe all-important lists were to be read aloud. The girls were tiredafter the strain, the teachers exhausted by the work of reading overhundreds of papers, and it was consequently a somewhat pale anddejected-looking audience which assembled in the Hall to hear thereport.
Rhoda sat tense on her seat, and puzzled for some moments over themeaning of a certain dull, throbbing noise, before discovering that itwas the beating of her own heart. It seemed to her morbid sensitivenessthat every eye was upon her, that everyone was waiting to hear whatplace the new girl had taken. When Miss Bruce began to read she couldhardly command herself sufficiently to listen, but the first mention ofher own name brought her to her bearings with a shock of dismay. Afterall her work, her care, her preparation, to be so low as this, to takeso poor a place! The mortification was so bitter that she would fainhave hidden herself out of reach of consolation, but to her surprise, sofar from condoling, teachers and pupils alike seemed surprised that shehad done so well.
"You have worked admirably, Rhoda. I am pleased with you," said MissMurray.
"Well done, Fuzzy!" cried Tom, and even Miss Bruce said graciously:
"Very good progress for a first term, Rhoda!"
It was evident from their manner that they meant what they said, andanother girl might have gleaned comfort from the realisation that shehad expected too much of her own abilities. Not so Rhoda! It was butan added sting to discover that she had been ranked so low, that an evenpoorer result would have created no astonishment. She wascongratulated, forsooth, on what seemed to her the bitteresthumiliation! If anything was needed to strengthen the determination toexcel at any and every cost, this attitude of the school was sufficient.In the solitude of the cubicle she vowed to herself that the day shouldcome, and that speedily, when she would be estimated at her right value.She stood in the damp and cold gazing up at the Record Wall, andrenewed the vow with fast-beating heart. The sun struggled from behindthe clouds and lit up the surface of the tablets, and the Honours girl,and the B.A. girl, and the girls who had won the scholarships, seemed tosmile upon her and wish her success, but Eleanor Newman's name was inthe shade. The sun had not troubled to light it up. She was "stupid,"and had never won a prize.
The last two days were broken and unsatisfactory, and Rhoda longed forthe time of departure to arrive; yet it was not without a pang of regretthat she opened her eyes on the last morning, and gazed round the littleblue cubicle. It was delightful to be going home, yet school had itsstrong points, and there were one or two partings ahead which could notbe faced without depression. How nice it would be if she could take allher special friends home--Dorothy and Kathleen, and Miss Everett, and--yes! Tom herself; for, wonderful to state, she was unaffectedly sorryto part from Tom. What fun they would have had running riot in ErleyChase, and summoning the whole household to wait on their caprices!
The gong rang, and all the little bells followed suit in their usualobjectionable fashion, but the girls yawned and lay still for anotherfive minutes, aware that leniency was the order of the day. The roll ofthe organ and the first two lines of the hymn found them still in bed,and the words were clearly distinguishable:--
Awake my soul, and with the sun, Thy daily course of duty run--
"How stupid!" commented Rhoda to herself. "`Course of duty' on the veryday we are leaving school. What a ridiculous choice!" and then shetumbled out of bed and listened no more.
The rest of the morning seemed a comical Alice-in-Wonderland repetitionof the day of arrival. The same long queues were formed to march down,instead of upstairs; the teachers stood on the landings to say good-bye,instead of welcome; the "Black Marias" bore the pupils to, instead offrom, the station, where the saloon carriages stood waiting as before.The Blues crowded into one carriage, and Tom seated herself by Rhoda,and with twinkling eyes called attention to the undulating beauty of thelandscape. It was all exactly the same, yet delightfully different, fornow there was no shyness nor restraint, but the agreeable consciousnessof liberty to chaff in return, and be as cheeky as one chose.
There was unceasing talk on the journey, yet each girl realised as thetrain steamed into Euston that she had forgotten to say the mostimportant things, and was divided between regret and anxiety to look outfor friends waiting on the platform. Rhoda had heard that Harold was tomeet her, and presently there he was--handsomer than ever, or looking soafter the three months' separation, and as immaculate as if he hadstepped out of the traditional bandbox.
"There he is! That's Harold! That's my brother!" she cried, with athrill of pride in the tall, frock-coated figure; and Thomasina looked,and rolled her little eyes to the ceiling.
"What a bee-ootiful young man! A perfect picter! Give him my fondlove, Fuzzy, and say that I am desolated not to be able to stay to makehis acquaintance, but I must make a bolt for my train."
She seized her bag as she spoke and hurried to the door, prepared tojump on to the platform at the first possible moment, while hercompanions impatiently followed in her wake. Rhoda had a vaguerecollection of promising to write regularly to half a dozen girls, andthen she was shaking hands with Harold, and laughing in pure joy atseeing the familiar face.
"Here I am! Here I am! I have come back at last!"
"So I see!" He swept a glance over her, half smiling, half startled."Awfully glad to see you. Got your luggage in the van, eh? Don't knowhow on earth we shall get hold of it in this crowd. What an--excuseme!--an appalling set of girls!"
"I thought so too, at first, but they look different when you know them.Some of them are sweet, and awfully pretty."
"Humph!" said Harold, sceptically. "They are not conspicuous. I don'tsee a decent-looking girl anywhere, except--who's the girl in the greyhat?"
"That's Miss Everett, our house-mistress, the one I'm so fond of--theone who has the invalid brother, you know, to whom mother sent thegame!"
"Teacher, is she? I thought she was a pupil. Sorry for her, poorlittle thing, if she has to manage a lot of girls like you. Ha! `R.C.'That's your box at last. I'll get a porter to put it on a four-wheeler. Watch where I go, and keep close behind."
He strolled forward, and such was the effect of his imposing appearanceand lordly ways, that the porters flew to do his bidding, and piled theluggage on the cab, while others who had been first on the scene werestill clamouring for attention. Rhoda glanced proudly at him as theydrove away together, but the admiration evidently was on one side, forhe frowned, and said critically--
"You--er--look pale! You have lost your colour!"
"I've been working hard."
"You have grown thinner!"
"Games, I suppose. We are always running about."
"Er--what has become of your hair?"
Rhoda first stared, and then laughed.
"Oh, my pigtail! I forgot that you hadn't seen it. I hated it too, atfirst, but I've grown accustomed to it, and find it very comfortable.It worries me now to have my hair blowing about and tickling my face."
"All the same, my dear, you had better untie it before we get home. Wewill lunch at the Station Hotel, and you can comb it out there. It willgive the mater a shock if she sees you looking so changed. She wouldhardly know you, I think."
The tone of disapproval hit hard, and to hide her chagrin Rhoda adoptedan air of indifference.
"Oh, we don't trouble ourselves about appearances at Hurst. So long aswe are comfortable we are satisfied. If a girl worries to dress up, wechaff her unmercifully."
"The more foolish you! I hope and pray, Rhoda, that you are not goingto develop into one of the strong-minded young women one meets nowadays,who seem to spend their lives in trying to be as much like men aspossible. It will be a mistake if you do. Be as learned as you like,and as sensible as you like, and as hardy as you like--that is all tothe good--but, for pity's sake, be pretty too, and dainty, and feminine!We
don't want to have all our womenkind swallowed up in athletes,warranted to be `hard kicks,' or `useful forwards!' We want them toplay the ornamental part in life, and be pretty, and sweet, andattractive."
"Ha, ha, yes! That's the man's point of view!" quoth Rhoda loftily, andher brother smiled good-naturedly as the cab stopped before the hotel.
"It is, my dear, that's very certain; and as you will probably meet agood many men as you go through life, you might as well study theiropinion. It may be regrettable, but it is certainly true, that you willhave more influence if you are agreeable to look at. You would havemore influence over _me_ at this moment if you would kindly walkupstairs and make yourself look--er--a little more like your old self!"
"Oh, I don't mind. Anything to please you!" said Rhoda carelessly, andstrode upstairs after the chambermaid, smiling to herself in loftysuperiority at Harold's "dandy ways." She did not smile, however, when,on coming suddenly in front of the mirror, she caught a full-lengthreflection of herself, for her brother's presence had unconsciouslyaltered her point of view, so that she saw herself no longer from thestandpoint of Hurst Manor, but that of Erley Chase. Yes, Harold wasright! It was not only the pigtail; there was an indefinable differencein her whole appearance. The clothes were the same, the girl was thesame, but there was no longer the immaculate neatness, the dainty care,the well-groomed look which had once characterised her. In her usualimpetuous fashion, she had rushed from one extreme to the other; indiscarding vanity, had run perilously near neglect.
"I look a nasty, horrid, hidjus fright!" she cried aloud, staring indisgust at the unwelcome vision. "I couldn't have believed it--really Icouldn't! It's the fault of those horrid little cubicles with the glassstuck in the darkest corner. Harold was right. Mother would have beenshocked."
She slipped off coat and hat, and with the aid of the well-stockeddressing-bag went through such a process of dusting, brushing, andcombing-out as she had not known for weeks past. Finally the old Rhodaseemed to smile upon her in response, in her own eyes at least, but whenErley Chase was reached some hours later Mrs Chester was far fromsatisfied with her darling's appearance. Her anxious eyes took in at aglance every change in the beloved features, and nothing could shake herconviction that the child had been starved and overworked. An elaboratesystem of coddling was inaugurated, to which Rhoda submitted withwonderful meekness.
Oh, the delight at being home again, of being loved and fussed over, andindulged in one's pet little weaknesses! How beautiful everythinglooked; the richly-furnished rooms, the hall with its Turkey carpet andpictured walls; the dinner table with its glittering glass and silver!How luxurious to awake in her own pretty room, to hear the firecrackling in the grate, and to sit up in bed to drink the early cup oftea!
"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 theseason.
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, andso far from admiring her industry thought it a pity to introduce workinto the holidays. It needed a hard struggle to induce them to consentto three lessons a week instead of six, and she had to face thecertainty that private study would be made as difficult as possible.Even Harold elevated his eyebrows and enquired, "Why this tremendoushurry?" as if he had never been to a public school himself and known thenecessity for advance.
Rhoda betook herself to the faithful Ella in no very gentle mood, andstormed 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 towork, and urge you to work, and goad you to work, and `Oh, my dear, itwould do you all the good in the world to compete with other girls,' andthen, the moment you take them at their word and get interested andeager, round they turn, and it's, `Oh the folly of cram! Oh theimportance of health!' `Oh what does it matter, my dear good child, ifyou _are_ a dunce, so long as you keep your complexion!' No, I'm notangry, I'm perfectly calm, but it makes me _ill_! I can't stand beingthwarted in my best and noblest ambitions. If I had a daughter, and shewanted 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 fatherlooked at me over his spectacles as if I were a wild animal. I thoughthe 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, andin lessons that doesn't pay. Slow and sure wins the--"
"Rubbish! Humbug! It will never win my race, for I have a definitetime to run it in, and not a day more. It has to be a gallop, and apretty stiff one at that. For goodness' sake, Ella, don't _you_ beginto preach. You might be grown-up yourself, sitting there prosing inthat horribly well-regulated fashion."
"I'm not well-regulated!" cried Ella, incensed by the insinuation. "Iwas 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 yoube 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 aproper talk yet. Tell me about the girls, and the teachers, and therules, and the amusements, and what you like best, and what you hateworst."
It was a "large order," as Harold would have said, but Rhoda respondedwith enjoyment, for what can be pleasanter than to expatiate on one'sown doings to a hearer with sufficient knowledge to appreciate thepoints, and sufficient ignorance to prevent criticism or unduesensitiveness as to consistency of detail!
Rhoda told of the chill, early breakfasts, of the seven o'clock supperwhen everything looked so different in the rosy light, especially onThursdays, when frolics and best clothes were the order of the day; ofMiss Mott, with her everlasting "Attention to the board"; the Latinmistress, with her eye-glasses; Fraulein, with a voice described by Tomas 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, andElla was fired, as every girl hearer invariably was fired, with interestand 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 themby one even more touching:
"Ella Mason, a student of exceptional promise, voluntarily relinquisheda career of fame and glory to be a cheerful and uncomplaining helper athome." Alas, poor Ella! at the word "cheerful" her lips twitched, andat "uncomplaining" the big tears arose and trickled down her cheeks!
For the rest of the holidays Rhoda worked more persistently than anyonesuspected, with the exception of her tutor, who invariably found theallotted task not only perfectly accomplished, but exceeded in length.Even making allowances for the girl's undoubted gift for languages, hewas amazed at her progress, and complimented her warmly at the close ofthe lessons, watching with half-amused, half-pitying eyes the flush ofpleasure 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 thereare different kinds of success, and aim for the best. When I was yourage I had dreams of a deanery or a bishopric, but I have remained all mylife in this sleepy village. My college companions have soared over myhead, yet I can never feel myself an unsuccessful man. I have had greatcompensations, and have discovered that obscurity has many lessons whichI 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 herselfas 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 bitof a house, and a poor stipend. No wonder he gets prosy. Young peopleunderstand young people best, and Miss Everett was quite right when shesaid it was no use trying to stuff lessons down your throat until youwere ready to swallow them. If all the fathers, and mothers, andbrothers, and vicars in the world were to lecture me now, and tell me totake it easy, and not to worry about the examination, it would have noeffect. In another two days I go back to school, and then--then--" Shestood still in the midst of the bare, wintry scene, and clasped herhands together passionately.
"Rhoda Chester, you must work, you must win! If you don't do well inthat examination, it will break your heart!"