CHAPTER TWO.
WHAT RHODA THOUGHT.
Father, mother, and brother looked at Rhoda, and felt a pardonable pridein her appearance. Her white evening frock showed off the faircomplexion and golden locks, and she carried herself with an erect,fearless mien which made a pleasant contrast to the stooping backs andshambling gait of most growing girls. If she were not regularly pretty,her air of assurance forced onlookers to think her so, despite theirbetter judgment, and there was about her a breezy atmosphere of healthand youth. She looked from one to the other of the watching faces, andsmiled in a good-humoured, tolerant manner, which showed a dimple in theround cheek.
"Hatching mischief!" she cried, nodding her head sagely. "The way inwhich your voices ceased as I entered the room was highly suspicious.Never mind--I'll go to bed soon, and then you can talk at your ease. It_is_ awkward when birthdays are drawing near! ... Chain bracelets arevery nice, with turquoises set here and there, and I rather like thatnew edition of Shakespeare with a lot of dear little books fitted into acase. I don't object to brooches either, or ornaments for my room--"
"But, strange to say, we were not thinking of giving you anything! Wewere talking of a much more serious consideration than a birthday. Wewere talking of your Future Education," said Mr Chester, solemnly. Hespoke so impressively, and with such very large capitals to the last twowords, that Rhoda was startled into attention, and turned her eyes uponhim in wonder.
"My--future--education? Why, what do you--what am I going to do?"
"We have been considering the advisability of sending you to school.You are nearly sixteen, and have been educated at home all your life,and now that Fraulein cannot return I feel strongly that it would be foryour good to spend a couple of years at school among girls of your ownage. Your mother naturally dreads the parting, and fears that you wouldbe unhappy, but Harold thinks that you would enjoy the experience. Whatis your own impression? Do you dislike the idea, or feel inclinedtowards it?"
Rhoda meditated, and her mother watched her with wistful eyes. At thefirst mention of the word "school" the girl had started with surprise,and her eyes had looked wide and puzzled, but now as she stooddeliberating, it was not dismay, but rather pleasure and excitement,that showed in her face. The eyes gleamed complacently, the dimpledipped, the fair head tilted itself, and Rhoda said slowly--
"I think I should--_like_ it! It would be a--change!"
Alas for Mrs Chester, and alas for every mother in that sharp momentwhen she realises that the nestling which she has been keeping so safeand warm is already beginning to find the nest too narrow for itsambitions, and is longing to fly away into the big, wide world! Twosalt tears splashed on to the satin gown, but no one saw them, for thegirl was engrossed in her own feelings, while Mr Chester was sayingbrightly--
"That's my brave girl! I knew you would be no coward."
Harold watched his sister with mingled pity and amusement.
"They'll take it out of her! They'll take it out of her! Poor littleRo! Won't she hate it, and won't it do her good!" he said to himself,shrewdly. "And, after the first, I shouldn't wonder if she became aprime favourite!"
Rhoda seated herself on a crimson plush chair, and folded her hands onher knees, in an attitude of expectation. She was an impetuous youngperson, and could brook no delay when once her interest was aroused.School having been mentioned as a possibility of the future, it becameimperative to settle the matter off-hand.
Which school? When? Who would take her? What would she have to buy?What were the rules? When were the holidays? How long would they be?Where would she spend them?--One question succeeded another inbreathless succession, making Mr Chester smile with indulgentamusement.
"My dear child, how can I tell? So far it is only a suggestion.Nothing is settled. We have not even thought of one school beforeanother--"
"If she goes at all, I should like her to go to Miss Moorby's, atBournemouth," said Mrs Chester quickly. "She only takes ten girls, andI'm told it is just like a home--hot bottles in all the beds, and beef-tea at eleven--"
"Mother!" cried Rhoda, in a tone of deep reproach. Her eyes flashed,and she drew herself up proudly. "No, indeed! If I go at all, I willdo the thing properly, and go to a real school, and not a hot-house. Idon't want their old beef-tea and bottles. I want to go to a nice, big,sporty school, where they treat you like boys, and not young ladies, andput you on your honour, and don't bind you down by a hundred sickeninglittle rules. I want to go to,"--she drew a long breath, and glanced ather mother, as if bracing herself to meet opposition--"to Hurst Manor!There! I've read about it in magazines, and Ella Mason had a cousin whohad been there, and she said it was--simply mag.! She was Head Girl,and ruled the house, and came out first in the games, and she said shenever had such sport in her life, and found the holidays quite fearfullyflat and stale in comparison."
"You don't become Head Girl all at once," interposed Harold, drily;while Mrs Chester gave another sob at the idea that home could ever belooked upon in so sad a light.
"Hurst Manor?" she repeated vaguely. "That's a strange name. I neverheard of the place before. What do you know about it that makes youwant to go, darling? Are you quite sure it is nice, and what is theHead Mistress like, and how many young la-- girls does she take? Nottoo many, I hope, for I can't see how they can be properly looked afterwhen there are more than twenty or thirty. I've heard terrible storiesof delicacy for life arising from neglect. You remember poor, dear EvieVane! Her glands swelled, and nobody noticed, and--"
"My glands never swell. They know better. Over two hundred girls,mother; but they are divided into different houses, with a staff ofteachers in charge of each, so there's no fear of being neglected; andit's much more fun living in a crowd. I'm tired of talking to the samepeople over and over again, and should love a variety. Among thehundred girls, one would be sure to find one or two whom one couldreally like."
Harold laughed again, a sleepy laugh, which brought a flash into hissister's eyes. That was the worst of Harold; he was so superior! Henever argued, nor contradicted, but he had a way of smiling to himself,of throwing back his head and half shutting his eyes, which made Rhodafeel as if throwing cushions at him would be the only adequate relief toher feelings. She glared at him for a moment, and then turned her backon him in a marked manner and addressed herself to her father.
"You will write to Miss Bruce at once, won't you, father, and arrangefor me to go at the beginning of the term?"
"I will write for particulars, or, better still, your mother and I willgo down to see the place for ourselves. I should like you to go to theschool you fancy, if it can be arranged, and I suppose this is as goodas any."
"Better!" Rhoda declared rapturously, "a thousand times better! EllaMason said so; and she knows, because her cousin's sisters have all beenat different schools--one at Cheltenham, one at Saint Andrew's, one atWycombe, and she declares that Hurst beats them all. It must be so,since it has adopted all the good ideas and abandoned the bad." Shewent on with a rambling statement which seemed to imply that Miss Brucehad been in turn sole proprietor of each of these well-known schoolsbefore abandoning them in favour of her new establishment; that HurstManor buildings had been recently erected, at vast expense, to provideevery possible convenience for the pupils, and at the same time was anobleman's seat of venerable interest; that sports and games formed thechief interest of the pupils, lessons being relegated to an appropriatesecondary position; while, astonishing to relate, the honours in allUniversity examinations fell to "Hurst girls," and every woman who hadmade a name for herself had graduated from its ranks! She detailedthese interesting items of information with sublime assurance; and, whenHarold mildly pointed out inconsistencies, retorted scornfully that shesupposed she might be allowed to know, since Ella's cousin had _said_so, and she had been there, and seen for herself! Mrs Chestersupported her by murmurs of assent, and little warning frowns to herson, which in dumb language signified tha
t he was to be a good boy, andnot aggravate his sister; and Mr Chester put his arm round her waist,and looked down at her, half smiling, half pitiful. The pitifulexpression grew, and became so marked that the girl gazed at him insurprise. Why did he look so sorry? Was he already feeling the blankwhich her absence would leave? Did he fear that she would be home-sick,and regret her hasty decision? She stared into his face with her brightblue eyes, and her father gazed back, noting the firm chin, the archedbrows, the characteristic tilt of the head. This overweening confidenceof youth--he was asking himself earnestly--was it altogether amisfortune, or but raw material out of which great things were to bemade in the future? Was it not better to go forth to meet life's battlewith a light heart and fearless tread than trembling and full of doubt?Surely it was better, and yet his heart was sore for the girl, as theheart of a leader must be sore when he sends his soldiers to the front,knowing that no victory is won without a cost, no fight without a scar.Something very like a tear glittered in the father's eye, and at thesight Rhoda's face softened into a charming tenderness. She snuggledher head into his neck, and rubbed her soft cheeks against his,murmuring absurd little sentences of endearment, as to a child of twoyears old.
"Whose pet is it, then? Whose own precious? The nicest old sweet inthe world."
Mr Chester pushed the girl aside, and put on a frown of portentousferocity to conceal the delight with which her demonstration had, inreality, filled him. He loved to feel the sweep of the crisp locks, thetouch of the soft cheek; he even appreciated, if the truth must be told,being addressed as a "precious," but wild horses would not have inducedhim to confess as much, and he made haste to leave the room with Haroldlest perchance any sign of his real feelings might betray themselves tothe sharp feminine eye.
Left alone with her mother, Rhoda clasped her hands behind her back, andpaced slowly up and down. It was a relief, after all, to be rid of themen, and be able to talk things over with a feminine hearer who neverbrought forward inconvenient quibbles, who accepted statements as facts,as of course they were, and agreed to propositions in a quiet,reasonable manner. Rhoda thought out several important matters in thatmarch to and fro, and announced the result in a decisive manner.
"I must have a complete new outfit! I don't believe in taking half-wornthings. You can send them away to that poor clergyman in Ireland, withthe five daughters. Geraldine, isn't it, who `fits' my clothes? Well,Geraldine shall have my blue silk, and the fawn jacket, and the blouses,and the grey dress. If the arm-holes stick into her as much as they dointo me, she will wish I had never been invented. She can have my besthat, too, if she wants it. I hate it, and at `Hurst' you never wearanything but sailors', with the school colours. There is a blue house,and a pink, and a green, and a yellow, and a red; that's the way theyarrange in all big schools, and I only hope and pray it won't be my fateto be yellow, or _what_ an image I'll look! Other things being equal,Mum dear, kindly say you think the blue house would be best for myhealth and morals. I want to live _in_, you understand, not _out_--that's one point I have quite decided."
"In what, dearest? Out of what? I don't understand what you mean."
"In school itself. There are three houses in the school building andthree in the grounds, and, of course, if you live `out' you have tenminutes' walk over to classes, whatever the weather may be. I shouldobject to shivering across the first thing in the morning in rain andsnow and getting all splashed and blown. No one can call me a coddle,but I _do_ like comfort, and it would be a dreadful fag--"
"I should think so, indeed; most risky! I wouldn't hear of it for you.If you go at all you must live in, and have a comfortable room, with afire in cold weather."
"Oh, well; I don't know if you can expect that. We mustn't be tooexacting. You will look after my clothes at once, mother, won't you?for there will be so much to get. I want things nice, you know! Ishould like the girls to see that I had decent belongings. I lovehaving all the _little_ things complete and dainty. I think girls oughtto be particular about them. It's a sign of refinement. I can't endureshabby things round me."
"Of course not, darling; and there's no reason why you should. Writedown a list of what you want, so that we shan't forget anything when weare in town. You shall have all you need; but, oh! dear me, I don'tknow how shall I live when you have gone. I shall break my heartwithout you!" And Mrs Chester's tears once more rolled down hercheeks. It seemed to her at this moment that the greatest trouble whichher happy life had known was this projected parting from her beloveddaughter.