CHAPTER SEVEN.
THE RECORD WALL.
There was no end to the surprises of that wonderful school! When Rhodareturned to her cubicle to get "tidy" for dinner, she washed, brushedher hair, put an extra pin in her tie to make sure that it was straight,wriggled round before the glass to see that belt and bodice wereimmaculately connected, put a clean handkerchief in her pocket, nickedthe clothes-brush over her skirt, and, what could one do more? Itseemed on the face of it that one could do nothing, but the other girlshad accomplished a great deal more than this. Rhoda never forgot theshock of dismay which she experienced on first stepping forth, andbeholding them. It was surely a room full of boys, not girls, forskirts had disappeared, and knickerbockers reigned in their stead. Thegirls wore gym. costumes, composed of the aforesaid knickers, and ashort tunic, girt round the waist with a blue sash, to represent theinevitable house colour. Thomasina's aspect was astounding, as shestrode to and fro awaiting the gathering of her forces, and the newgirls stared at her with distended eyeballs. Rhoda had registered a vownever to volunteer a remark to the hateful creature; but Dorothystammered out a breathless--
"You never said--We never knew--Is it a _rule_?"
"Not compulsory, or I would have told you; you may do as you please.They wear gyms, at Wycombe in the afternoon, and we have adopted theidea to a certain extent. Most of the girls prefer it for the sake ofthe games, for it is so much easier to run about like this. For myself,I affect it for the sake of appearances. It is so becoming to myyouthful charms."
She simpered as she spoke, with an affectation of coyness that wasirresistibly amusing. Dorothy laughed merrily, and Rhoda resisted doingthe same only by an enormous effort of self-will. She succeeded,however, in looking sulky and bad-tempered, and went downstairs feelingquite pleased with herself for resisting an unworthy impulse.
All the old girls were in gym. costume, and a quaint sight it was towatch them descending the great central staircase. Lanky girls, lookinglankier than ever; fat girls, looking fatter than ever; tall girlsmagnified into giantesses; poor little stumpies looking as if viewedthrough a bad piece of window glass. Plump legs, scraggy legs, and legsof one width all the way down, and at the end of each the sad,inevitable shoe, and down each back the sad, inevitable pigtail! Nowand again would come a figure, light and graceful as a fawn, theembodiment of charming youth; but as a rule the effect was far frombecoming.
Rhoda's criticisms, however, were less scathing than usual, for sheherself was suffering from an unusual attack of humility! If any readerof this veracious history has to do with the management of a self-confident, high-spirited girl, who needs humbling and bringing to hersenses, let the author confidently recommend the pigtail and flat-heeledsystem! To fasten back a mane of hair is at once to deprive the culpritof one of her most formidable means of defence.
She has no shelter behind which to retire, as an ambush from the enemy;she has nothing to toss and whisk from side to side, expressing defiancewithout a word being uttered. The very weight of the pigtail is asobering influence; its solemn, pendulum movement is incompatible withrevolt. As for the slippers--well, try heel-less shoes yourself, andtest their effect! They bring one to earth, indeed, in the deepestsense of the word. All very well to mince about in French shoes, andthink "What a fine girl am I," but once try mincing in flat, squaresoles, and you will realise that the days are over for that kind ofthing, and that nothing remains but humility and assent!
Dinner over, the girls adjourned into the grounds; but as games, likelessons, could not be begun without some preliminary arrangement, mostof the pupils contented themselves with strolling about, in twos andthrees, exchanging confidences about the holidays and hatching plans forthe weeks to come. Rhoda and Dorothy were standing disconsolatelytogether, when Miss Everett flitted past, and stopped for a moment totake pity on their loneliness.
"What are you two going to do? You mustn't stand here looking likepelicans in the wilderness. You must walk about and get some exercise.I'm too busy to go with you myself, but--er--Kathleen!" She held up herhand in summons to the second-term girl who had volunteered informationabout the Lords and Commons--"Here, Kathleen, you remember what it is tobe a new girl; take Rhoda and Dorothy round the grounds, and show themeverything that is interesting. Have a brisk walk, all of you, and comeback with some colour in your cheeks!"
She was off again, smiling and waving her hand, and the three girlsstood gazing at each other in shy, uncertain fashion.
"Well," said Kathleen, "where shall we go first? The Beech Walk, Isuppose; it's half-a-mile long, so if we go to the end and back we shallhave a constitutional before looking at the sights. The grounds arevery fine here, and there is lots of room for all we want to do. Youcan find a sunny bit, or a shady bit, according to the weather, but it'sonly on really scorching days that we are allowed to lounge. Thenthere's a scramble for hammocks, and the lucky girls tie them on to thebranches of trees, and swing about, while the others sit on the grass.Once or twice we had tea under the trees, and that was fine, but as arule they keep you moving. Games are nearly as hard work as lessons!"
"But you needn't play unless you like?"
"Oh, yes, you must; unless you are ill or tired. You can get off anyday if you don't feel well, but not altogether. And you would not wishto either. It would be so horribly flat! Once you are into a team, youare all anxiety to get into another, and I can tell you when you seeyour remove posted up on the board, it is b-liss!--perfect bliss!"
The recruits laughed, and looked at their new friend with approvingglances. She was, so far, the only one of the girls who had treatedthem on an equality, and gave herself no air of patronage, and they werecorrespondingly appreciative. They asked eagerly in which games she hadwon her remove, and Rhoda, at least, was disappointed at the answer.
"Cricket! That's the great summer game. I've three brothers at home,and used to practise with them sometimes to make an extra one. Theysnubbed me, of course: but I'm not a bad bat, though I say it myself."
"And what about tennis?"
"Um-m!" Kathleen pursed up her lips. "We have courts, of course, butits rather--_Missy_, don't you think? The sports captains look down onit, and so, of course, it's unpopular. The little girls playoccasionally. It keeps them happy."
This was a nice way to speak of a game which had been for years thepopular amusement of young England! Rhoda was so shocked anddisappointed that she hardly dared mention croquet, and it seemed,indeed, as if it would have been better if she had refrained, forKathleen fairly shouted at the name.
"My dear, how can you! _Nobody_ plays croquet except old tab-- I meanladies who are too old to do anything else. Miss Bruce plays sometimeswhen she has the vicar's wife to tea. We hide behind the bushes andwatch them and shake with laughter. _Croquet_, indeed! I should liketo see Tom's face if you mentioned croquet to her!"
"It's a matter of perfect indifference to me what Miss Bolderstonthinks," said Rhoda, loftily; but she veered away from the subject ofgames all the same and tackled lessons instead.
"Are you working for any special examination, or just taking it easily?"
"I'm going in for the Oxford Senior in summer. My birthday is sohorribly arranged that it comes just one week before the limit. A fewdays later would give me a year to the good, but as it is it's my lastchance. If I can only scrape through in preliminaries I am not afraidof the rest, but I am hopelessly bad in arithmetic. I add up with allmy fingers, and even then the result comes wrong; and when so muchdepends upon it I know I shall get flurried and be worse than ever."
"The great thing is to keep cool. If you don't lose your head, Ishouldn't wonder if the excitement helped you. Say to yourself, `_Don'tbe a fool_!' and _make_ yourself keep quiet," quoth Miss Rhoda, with anair of wisdom which evidently impressed her hearers. They glanced firstat her and then at each other, and the glance said plainly as wordscould speak that here was a girl who had strength of mind--a girl whowould make her ma
rk in the school!
"I'll try!" said Kathleen, meekly. "I am terribly anxious about thisexam., for if I do well and pass better than any one else in the schoolI shall get a scholarship of L40 towards next year's fees. That wouldbe a great help to my parents, for they are poor, and have only sent mehere that I may have a chance of getting on and being able to teach someday. I should be so thankful if I could help, for it's horrid to knowthe people at home are stinting themselves for your sake. I lie awakeat nights imagining that the report is in, and I am first, and then Iwrite a long letter home and tell them about it. Each time I invent afresh letter, and they are so touching, you can't think! I cried overone, one night, and Tom came round to see what was the matter. At othertimes I imagine I'm plucked, and I go cold all over; I think I should_die_! Never mind, nine months yet! I'll work like a slave, and if I_do_ fail no one can say it's my own fault."
"You won't fail. Don't imagine anything so horrible! You will get overyour nervousness and do splendidly, and write your letter in realearnest," cried Dorothy cheerily. "I am going in for the Oxford too,but you need fear no rival in me. I am one of those deadly,uninteresting creatures, who never reach anything but a fair medium.There isn't a `distinction' in me, and one could never be first at thatrate. A scrape-through pass is all _I'm_ good for!"
"I could get two distinctions at once! I know more German and Frenchthan ninety girls out of a hundred. Two distinctions! It's a bigstart. I wonder--I wonder if I could possibly be first!" said Rhoda toherself, and her breath came fast, and her cheeks grew suddenly hot."Nine months! Nine months!" If she studied hard, and worked up thesubjects on which she was behind, might she not have a chance with therest? The first girl! Oh, if only it could be possible, what joy, whatrapture! What a demonstration of power before the school. She went offinto a blissful dream in which she stood apart, receiving thecongratulations of Miss Bruce and her staff, and saw Thomasina's faceregarding her with a new expression of awe. Then she came back to reallife, to look remorsefully at her new friend, and notice for the firsttime her pinched and anxious air.
"But I would give Kathleen the money. I want nothing but the honour,"she assured herself, shutting her mind obstinately against theconviction that such a division might not be altogether easy to arrange."And Dorothy is going in, too; lots of girls are going in, so whyshould not I? And if I enter I must do my best; nobody could object tothat!"
Nevertheless there was an unaccountable weight on her heart, which madeit a relief when the subject dropped, and Kathleen began to point outthe various out-buildings scattered over the grounds.
"That's the pavilion. We keep all the games there, and it's so nicelyfurnished. There is quite a pretty sitting-room, and a stove, and allthe materials for making tea. On Saturday afternoons the winning teamsmay stay behind and have tea there by themselves, and buy cakes from thehousekeeper. It's ripping! We look forward to it as the Saturdaytreat, and aren't you just mad if your side loses! That's the joiner'sshop. You can have lessons if you like, and learn to make all sorts ofthings; but I've no ambition to be a carpenter, so I don't go... That'sa summer-house, but it's so earwiggy that we leave it alone... That wasmeant to be a swimming-bath, but the water comes straight from a well,and it is so deadly cold that the girls got cramp, and Miss Bruceforbade them to use it any more. It looks wretchedly deserted now. Ifyou want to be miserable all by yourself you couldn't have a betterplace. It's so still and dark, and the birds have built their nests inthe corners, and come suddenly flying past, and frighten you out of yourwits... Those little patches are the girls' own gardens. You can havelessons in gardening, and get a prize if you are clever. I don't go infor that either, for it's an extra expense."
"Oh, I must have a garden!" cried Rhoda quickly. "I adore flowers, andthey could send me cuttings from home. I always had my own garden, butI didn't do the work, of course. I just said how it was to be arranged,and what plants I wanted, and every one admired it, and said howsuccessful it was. I had big clumps of things, you know; not onestraggling plant here and another there, but all banked up together.You should have seen my lily bed! I made the men collect all the oddbulbs and plant them together, and they were a perfect show. The scentmet you half-way down the path; it was almost overpowering. And then Ihad a lot of the new cactus dahlias, and left only about two branches oneach, so that they came up like one huge bush with all the lovelycontrasting colours. Many people say they don't like dahlias, but thatis only because they haven't seen them properly grown."
"Oh well, I loathe them myself, and I always shall do. You never getany satisfaction out of them, however pretty they may be, for as soon aspeople see them, they begin groaning and saying, `Oh, dear, dear, autumnflowers already! How sad it is. Winter will soon be upon us.'"Dorothy sniffed derisively. It was evident that no support was to beexpected from her on the dahlia question, and Rhoda felt that only timeand experience could prove to her the folly of her position.
When all the out-buildings had been explained, Kathleen led the way downa winding path which seemed to lead to nowhere in particular, but ratherto come to an abrupt _cul-de-sac_ in the shape of a high grey wall. Hercompanions wondered at her choice, but she went forward with an air ofdetermination, so that there was nothing left but to follow, and hopesoon to return to more interesting scenes. When she came to the end ofthe path, however, she stood still and began to smile with a mostbaffling air of mystery. What did it mean? What were they expected tosee? The girls wheeled to and fro, looked at the paths, the beds, theflowers, frowned in bewilderment, and then suddenly lifted their eyes tothe wall, and uttered simultaneous exclamations of surprise.
The wall was dotted over with little tablets of stone, on each of whichwas a neatly engraved inscription, and each inscription bore the name ofa girl at its head. Rhoda craned forward and read first one and thenanother:
"...Winifred Barton, joined Hurst Manor, September, 189--, leftChristmas, 189--. The youngest pupil who ever obtained honours inMathematics in the Oxford Local Examinations."
"Elizabeth Charrington, an old pupil of the school, obtained First Classin the Honours School of Modern History at Oxford."
"Eleanor Newman, joined Hurst Manor, September, 189--, left Mid., 189--.Beloved by her fellow-students as the kindest and most loyal offriends, the most unselfish of competitors. Held in gratefulremembrance for the power of her influence and example."
"Fanny Elder. For two years Games President of the school. Winner ofthe Wimbledon Lawn Tennis Tournament, 189--. Holder of Edinburgh GolfCup, 189--. A just and fearless sportswoman..."
The list of names went on indefinitely, but Rhoda had read enough toinflame curiosity, and wheeled eagerly round to confront Kathleen.
"What is it? What does it mean? Who puts them up? Is it just thecleverest girls?--"
"It's the Record Wall!" said Kathleen. "We are very proud of our RecordWall at Hurst. The cost of these tablets is paid by the pupilsthemselves, and they are put up entirely at their discretion. Theteachers have nothing to do with it. If a girl has distinguishedherself at work, but is conceited and overbearing, and makes herselfdisliked, no one wants to put up a tablet to _her_; so it is really atestimony to character, as well as to cleverness. Eleanor Newman wasquite stupid, they say. I never knew her. She never passed a singleexamination, nor took a prize nor anything, yet every one loved her.She was a little, fair thing, with curly hair too short to tie back, andsoft, grey eyes. She wasn't a bit goody, but she always seemed waitingto do kind things, and make peace, and cheer the girls when they werehome-sick. And no one ever heard her say a cross word, or make anuncharitable remark."
"And did she die?" croaked Rhoda solemnly. A long experience of girls'stories had taught her that when girls were sweet and fair, and neversaid an unkind word, they invariably caught a chill, and died of rapidconsumption. She expected to hear the same report of Eleanor Newman,but Kathleen replied briskly:
"Die! Not a bit of it. She marr
ied, at nineteen, a doctor down inHampshire, and brought him to see the school on their honeymoon. TheGreens escorted her in a body to the Record Wall, and when she saw herown name she covered her face with her hands, and flew for her life.And her husband looked quite weepy. The girls said he could hardlyspeak!"
"Ah-h!" sighed Rhoda, and was silent. She felt "weepy" too, filled witha sudden yearning, a sudden realisation of want. Eleanor Newman hadrisen to heights to which she could never attain. "A little, fairthing, and almost stupid," yet her school-fellows loved her, andimmortalised her name in words of grateful loyalty. She sighed again,and yet again, and heard Kathleen's voice cry sharply--
"Oh, I look at that empty space, and wonder if this time next year Ishall read there that I have passed first, and won the Scholarship. Iwonder if ever, ever there will be a tablet with my name upon it!"
"I expect there will be," said Dorothy. "It's a lovely idea, and I canimagine every girl longing to see her name on the scroll of honour; butfor my own part I never shall. Not for this child! There is no hopefor me, unless they put me up as `a good little tortoise who never fellasleep.' The worst of it is that in real life the hare keeps awake too,and spoils one's chance. I must be content to bloom, in obscurity--`Aviolet by a mossy dell, half hidden from the eye'--"
But Rhoda already saw a new tablet twinkling on the empty space, atablet recording phenomenal success and distinction, and the name at thehead of the inscription was not "Kathleen Murray," but one much morefamiliar in her ears!