THE ATTIC DESIRE CH:4

"No, darlings, not to-night; she is tired. Don't ask it, pets. You never cross Jessie, do you? That's all right, loves."

The door was shut again, and she took Christian's hand.

[Pg 120]

"They are dear girls, although we have one or two black sheep. Of course I must not name them. We are all trying—we who belong, I hope, to the white sheep—to turn them from the error of their ways. Now then, here is your room."

The door was opened, and Christian found herself in a dainty chamber lined with white enameled wood. The wood went right up to the ceiling, and across it; and in the ceiling itself were two bright eyes, caused by electric light. Miss Jessie showed the young girl how she could turn it on and off. In a pretty grate lined with pink tiles a bright fire was blazing. There were two beds at the farther end, one covered with a pretty Liberty coverlet and unmade, and the other with a snowy white sheet turned down. The look of the little bed was most inviting. There were white dimity curtains to the windows. The white effect of everything, with the pink tiles, the blazing fire, and the crimson felt on the floor, made Christian feel that she had never been in so sweet a chamber before.

"You will be happy here, I know," said Miss Jessie. "We are all intensely happy at Penwerne. Who could help it who was under the guardianship of Lavinia Peacock?"

When Miss Jessie had seen that Christian had all she required, even to a can of nice hot water, she kissed her and went away. Christian thought that she would not see her again that night. She felt contented, soothed, and happy. How silly she had been to dread this charming school, this life so full of interest! As she thought of Miss Peacock, and remembered the look on her face, she felt her heart glow already with love for her new mistress. Then how sweet and kind dear Miss Jessie was!

As she ate her supper, and unlocked her trunk and[Pg 121] took out just what was necessary for the night's requirements, she thought again of Miss Peacock's great kindness in not speaking to the school of what had really happened.

"She said I was unavoidably detained," thought the child. "She shielded me. There are very few who would do that. I love her already. If I am not good after so much kindness, I shall be the very worst girl in the world."

Christian said her prayers—quite earnest ones, in which she implored of God to help her—and then she got into bed. She was just getting warm between the cozy sheets, when the door was softly opened and little Miss Jessie peeped in.

"Ah! you are in bed," she said; "that's right. I have only come to fetch the tray. Your fire will burn for some hours. It is so cold just at present that we will have it lit before you get up in the morning. That is a special indulgence which will only be granted to you just for to-morrow. To-morrow will be a complete holiday for you. I thought you might like to know. You will be able to unpack and get everything into apple-pie order. Then you will make the acquaintance of the girls, and get to know the ways of the school. You will probably have some lessons to prepare for the next day, but only if you are quite well enough to undertake them. Miss Peacock said I was to be very careful about you. I suppose that is on account of your illness that kept you from school."

As Miss Jessie said the last words Christian suddenly sat up in bed.

"I wasn't kept away from school by illness," she said in a choking voice.

"Well, never mind, dear; it doesn't matter what it was. Our dear head-mistress knows."

[Pg 122]

"Miss Jessie," said Christian, "I don't know what your other name is."

"I am never called by it, dearest. My other name is Jones; quite a common name, isn't it? But I am always known here as Jessie, or Miss Jessie. Lie down now and go to sleep."

"I can't until I tell you something. I must tell you."

"Well, love, if it relieves your mind; but really and truly I would much rather——"

In the firelight little Miss Jessie's face looked quite troubled; she took both of Christian's hands.

"You are excited," she said. "You have traveled far; the effects of your illness are still perceptible."

"Oh, I wasn't ill! It is about that I want to speak to you. You at least must know the truth."

"Oh, but I never know things of that sort," said Miss Jessie in an alarmed voice. "Dear Lavinia Peacock would be distressed. I beg of you, my child. Oh, what is it? Actually the dear child is crying. Well, of course, Christian, if it relieves your mind, dear——"

"It does—it does!" said Christian. "I couldn't sleep to-night if you didn't know it. It wasn't illness."

"My dear, dear child."

"It was naughtiness."

"Children are often naughty," said Miss Jessie.

"But not like my naughtiness. It was big—it was worse; it was wickedness. I ran away."

"You did what, dear?" said Miss Jessie; and now she backed from Christian and looked at her with her round, rosy, good-natured face paling with horror.

She said afterwards to herself, "I was glad there was only firelight, and that I was standing with my back to it, for the poor child would have seen how horrified I felt."

"Yes," said Christian, "I ran away that day a [Pg 123]fortnight back when you were expecting me. I went to the station with Miss Neil. I left her and went away with another little girl. We had planned it all out together. We went to an awful place in the slums for the night. Oh, it was fearful—fearful! We nearly died from fright. We were well punished. The next day we got home, but it was a terrible adventure, and it nearly killed us both. It was not illness; it was what I have said."

Miss Jessie had now recovered her ordinary composure.

"My dear," she said, "I am glad and sorry you have told me. You may be quite sure that I shall never repeat it to anyone. There is just one thing, Christian: you must not on any account—on any account whatever—breathe this story in the school. It would not be understood, dear. It would make your position unfortunate. I cannot explain matters. Our code of honor is very high, and we like all our girls to have a clean record—never to do what is daring and downright wicked. Ah, yes, Christian, we repent, but somehow the flavor of the sin remains. Ah, Christian, I will tell you a story of another little girl some day—not to-night. Good-night, now. It was brave of you to tell, and I will speak to Lavinia about it; but whatever happens, this must on no account be known in the school."

Miss Jessie tripped softly away, and Christian, soothed by the light of the fire, by the knowledge that she had unburdened herself, by the resolve that, come what would, she would do the very best that was possible for a girl to do in the future, dropped asleep.

[Pg 124]

CHAPTER XIII

THE MANOR SCHOOL

There were forty boarders at Penwerne House. Their ages varied from thirteen to eighteen. They were almost all English girls, well brought up, and of good family. The house was very old, but extremely roomy. There were corridors and long passages and endless small rooms in every imaginable direction. But although the house was really so very ancient, the appearance of the rooms themselves spoke of a far more luxurious state of living than people required at the time when Penwerne Manor was built; for Miss Peacock had taken extraordinary pains with her school, and the old rooms, wainscoted in the first instance, were now enameled many pale shades of beautiful colors—some ivory white, some the palest green, some blue, some pink. There were whole corridors with only pink rooms, and whole corridors with only blue ones; but the girls who had the choicest and largest rooms were those who slept in the white chambers, as they were called.

Christian's room was one of a series that went down the entire length of a corridor. Each of these pretty rooms boasted of two windows, and in each two neat brass-mounted bedsteads were placed. Christian thought herself in great luck to have a room to herself at first, and prepared to enjoy herself thoroughly.

Miss Neil came up to the young girl's room to say good-by to her early on the following morning.

"Well, my dear," she said, "I am sure you are in[Pg 125] luck. What a nice little room! Not little, though—quite a good-sized room. And you have it to yourself. You ought to be exceedingly thankful, Christian; you are a most lucky girl. I shall write to your dear father and mother without fail by the next mail. You had better do the same. They will have got over their dreadful shock about you by the time they receive that letter. And now, dear, I must say good-by. Here is a little money that you may need for pocket-money; and when you want anything more you have but to write to me—Elm Lodge, Denvers Road, Southsea. See, I have written the address distinctly on this paper. Miss Peacock knows that she is to apply to me in any difficulty. You will stay here at Easter, or go away with Miss Peacock, just as she thinks best; but if you like to spend some of your summer holidays with me, I dare say I can arrange it, but I cannot positively promise. I will do my best. Here are the two sovereigns. You must make them do until Easter; as every possible want is supplied, you cannot require more money than this. I have asked Miss Peacock, and—somewhat reluctantly, I must say—she has complied with my wish that your letters are, for the present at least, to be overlooked; except, of course, those to your parents. It is necessary, Christian, that this should be done; and there is no use in your frowning over the matter, for a girl who could behave in the disgraceful way you did cannot expect to be trusted. You are, of course, absolutely forbidden to correspond with that naughty little Rose Latimer; and even your nurse can only receive letters which Miss Peacock has read. Now, I think that is all. Be good. Thank your lucky star that you have come to such a considerate mistress; for if she had proclaimed through the school the enormity of your act you would have had a sorry time. I certainly never asked her to conceal it.[Pg 126] I thought she naturally would tell, and I felt that if she had done so it would be a due punishment to you for your disgraceful behavior; but she thinks otherwise, and as she has the care of your education for the present, I must of course bow to her decree. Good-by, Christian. I trust you will keep well, and be—as you ought to be—happy."

Miss Neil gave Christian a little peck on her forehead and then on her lips, after which she hurried from the room.

According to Miss Jessie's promise, a fire had again been lit in the young girl's chamber, and a neat-looking servant had brought in coffee, toast, and rolls.

Christian ate her breakfast, and then waited somewhat shyly, wondering what would happen next. Presently a great bell sounded all over the house, and a minute later Miss Jessie bustled in.

"Ah! you are dressed," she said; "that is right. And very neat you look in your pretty gray dress, with that nice frilled apron. Miss Peacock will quite approve of your appearance. Most of our girls wear their hair plaited behind, but I see you wear yours quite loose. Well, never mind; you have pretty hair, dear—very pretty. Now then, come with me, for the prayer-bell has rung. You will see your companions at prayers. Soon, I trust, you will be quite happy, and a busy member of a useful family."

Miss Jessie took Christian's hand and walked quickly down the corridor. Doors were pushed open as she went, and more than one bright head, with curling hair and laughing eyes, looked out. Christian felt a sudden and intense accession of shyness; she dared not glance at any of her schoolfellows. Her heart began to beat loudly in her ears, and by the time she reached the great hall, where prayers were always read by Miss Peacock,[Pg 127] she was scarlet. There was a tittering laugh from a girl as she went up to the seat appointed for her near Miss Jessie. Another girl said "Hush!" and then in the midst of the solemn stillness Miss Peacock read the lesson for the day. This was followed by a short prayer, and after the girls had risen from their knees and the servants had withdrawn, Miss Peacock mounted a little dais near her own desk and looked around her.

"Wait a minute, girls," she said; "I want to introduce you to your new schoolfellow. Come here, Christian Mitford."

Christian advanced tremulously.

"This, my dear young people, is Christian Mitford, your new companion; and, I trust, your new friend. She has never been in Cornwall before, nor has she ever been in a boarding-school. Is that correct, Christian?"

"Yes, madam," said Christian in a low voice.

"Our ways, therefore," continued the head-mistress, "will be strange to her, and I trust that each girl in the school will do her utmost to make her happy by kindness, by sympathy, by showing her the ropes, by letting her feel that you are glad to have her with you. I trust you all, my dear girls, and know you will do your best for this young stranger. I put her into the care of—Ah! Louisa Twining, my dear, come here."

A slender girl, with soft, neat brown hair and brown eyes to match, left her companions and walked up the room.

"Louisa," said Miss Peacock, "this is Christian Mitford. Will you please see after her a bit, and let her stay by you in class, and take her into the playground afterwards, and tell her all about the school and the life here?"

"Yes, Miss Peacock," said Louisa.

She looked kindly at Christian as she spoke.

[Pg 128]

"Christian," said Miss Peacock, "you are in safe hands when I give you into the charge of Louisa Twining. She is one of my oldest and most trusted pupils. Now then, dear, it is the custom that the new pupil should not have any lessons to do on the day after her arrival. Your time is therefore absolutely your own, and you can unpack your things and put them away in the neat cupboards in your room. You can arrange your schoolroom desk, and ask for what books you require from your English teacher, Miss Forest; and, in short, do anything you please. I should counsel you to take Louisa absolutely into your confidence, for she is a very sure guide for a new-comer. To-morrow you take your place with the other pupils. I shall be glad to see you in my own private room at five o'clock to tea. And now for the present, good-by, dear."

Miss Peacock nodded to Christian, smiled at Louisa, and left the room.

Louisa looked hard at Christian.

"Come," she said; "we must be great chums, mustn't we?"

"Oh, if you would be kind to me!" said poor Christian.

Her shyness was getting worse; the tears were very near her eyes, but she did not dare to let them appear.

"I will introduce you to some of the others," said Louisa. "The sooner you know us all the better. First of all, how old are you?"

"I shall be fourteen in three months' time."

"Oh, we make a great fuss about birthdays here; but yours is some way off yet. You are only thirteen at present. Do you know that I am nearly sixteen, and I am not much taller than you."

"I always knew that I was very tall," said Christian. "I hate it myself; I'd much rather be a little girl."

[Pg 129]

"If you happened to be a little girl you would anything but wish it, I can assure you. But now here we are; here is a whole bevy of the girls, all so curious about you, and so anxious to be nice and kind."

"Well, Twine dear," said a merry-looking girl of about fourteen years of age, bounding forward when she saw Louisa issuing out of the hall accompanied by Christian, "so you have got her. You are the privileged one. Now, I wanted to be. It's most unfair that you should have all the plums, Twiny."

"Don't be a goose, Florry. You know that Miss Peacock would not give the charge of a new girl to a little mite like you."

"Little mite indeed!" laughed Florry, tossing her head. "Well, I suppose, whatever happens, I may talk to the sacred being."

"Don't!" said Christian suddenly, and speaking with irritation.

"She hates to be laughed at; can't you see that?" said Louisa, speaking angrily.

She had scarcely said the words before a mocking voice, which seemed to come from over their heads, cried in a high staccato:

"She hates to be laughed at; can't you see that?"

Christian looked round. She was startled and alarmed.

"That's only Star; she is incorrigible," said Louisa. "You will have to get accustomed to her. But come now; you would like to see the schoolroom. You will have your own desk, but its exact position I can't tell you; your teachers will first have to find out what you know."

Now, Christian knew a great deal. From her earliest days she had been well educated, and with regard to her attainments she was decidedly above the average girl.[Pg 130] As she remembered this fact a sense of satisfaction stole over her. Nevertheless she felt exceedingly depressed and considerably alarmed.

Louisa and Christian walked quickly to the farther end of the hall, and Florence returned to her companions. Louisa now spoke quickly.

"You must not get frightened; or, at least, if you are frightened you must not show it. I assure you if you do your life won't be worth living here. We are all rather a nice set of girls, but there are a few of us who have an intolerable habit of teasing. If it is noticed that you are easily impressed, or thin-skinned, you will be made thoroughly unhappy. Your only plan is not to care one little bit what anyone says to you, or what anyone does. Don't be startled when stupid jokes are sprung on you. You did look so ridiculously alarmed when Star called out that sentence just now."

"Of course I was. I can't think how she did it. Was she hanging on to the ceiling anywhere?"

"Not a bit of it. Star Lestrange is immensely popular, because she has got the power of ventriloquism. She can throw her voice anywhere. I assure you there was a time when she terrified me. But now I am accustomed to her, and she is so funny—so audacious. On one occasion she whispered just above Miss Peacock's forehead, "Bless you, sweet angel!" She nearly got into a scrape about that, for although we are treated in this school in the most heavenly way, Miss Peacock is intensely particular, and the discipline is sound—I must say it. There can be no crooked ways in this school, nor obscure corners in the life of any girl who lives here. Woe betide her if she has anything in her past that she wants to hide. Why, how red you are getting! Aren't you strong?"

"Yes, thank you."

[Pg 131]

"You are nervous. Now, do take my advice: don't show it to the others; just uphold your own dignity. I wish you could have seen Star when she first came to the school. They tried to bully her a bit, some of the most mischievous spirits, but didn't she crush them all round? She's awfully good-natured, you know, and she wouldn't hurt you really for the world; but she has such mad spirits, she has to give way now and then. Now, I mustn't gossip any more. We work here from nine to eleven."

"But isn't it long past nine now?" asked Christian.

Louisa laughed. "Of course not," she said. "It is five minutes to nine. You had your breakfast at seven. You will have to come down to refectory breakfast to-morrow. You are going to be awfully indulged and petted to-day. I suppose that is on account of your illness."

"But I haven't been ill," said Christian, and her face became crimson.

"Then what was the matter with you? Why were you unavoidably detained?"

"Oh, please don't question me," said Christian.

"Why can't you speak? The girls will expect you to do so this evening. We always get a new girl to tell us as much as ever she can of her life's story—after dark. You look as though you were a splendid story-teller. Are you?"

"I could tell you some stories," said Christian.

She thought of her darling attic and the heroines of her past life. Nevertheless, her terrors were getting greater each moment. If the girls insisted on questioning her with regard to the unlooked-for circumstances which were supposed to have detained her, she would certainly betray herself; and for a girl like Star[Pg 132] Lestrange to know of such an escapade would cause poor Christian almost to lose her senses.

"I will introduce you to the nicest girls," said Louisa, who was watching her face—"the nicest and the kindest—and I will ask them to look after you when I am not with you myself."

"But mayn't I stay near you all day? Oh, I wish—I wish you'd let me."

"You dear young thing, of course you may. But then you see to-morrow will come, and the day after, and the day after that. I am in the sixth class of the school. I am rather young to be there, but I am, all the same; and I am proud of it, I can tell you. You, of course, will be in a different class, and you must associate with the girls of your own age. You see, you can't help yourself. You will have great fun after a bit. Here come the mistresses and the girls, and lessons have begun. Sit down near me at this desk, and listen with all your might. Miss Forest and Mademoiselle le Brume may question you a bit about your attainments this morning. I am not quite certain, but I think they will."

"I wish they would; I'd much rather," said Christian.

"Would you really? Then I'll go and speak to Miss Forest at once."

Each desk now had a bright and merry or a grave and serious girl seated before it, and forty pairs of eyes were darting from time to time in Christian's direction—some quizzical, some indifferent, some alive with curiosity; some sober, earnest, kind. But whatever the feelings that dwelt in the minds of the girls who owned the eyes, they all kept gazing at Christian, who felt at last as though she were under forty pairs of burning glasses, so keen became the torture.

Presently Louisa returned.

[Pg 133]

"Miss Forest will see you in half an hour, and Mademoiselle says you must go to her in the French room when the rest of us are at play. Our music-master, too, Mr. Frederick, is coming to-day, and you may as well let him hear what you can do. Oh, you will soon be very busy and very happy. And now don't look at the girls; or if you want to look at them, stare well. That will put them in a good humor, and they will stop staring at you."

[Pg 134]

CHAPTER XIV

SCHOOLGIRLS

Christian went through the ordeal with the mistresses and the music-master with much éclat. Miss Forest was evidently surprised at her knowledge of English history and literature, at her grammatical accuracy—for she set her a short essay to write—and at her knowledge generally. Mademoiselle was equally delighted with the purity of her French accent, and with the admirable way she translated a paragraph from a rather difficult French story-book. And, finally, Mr. Frederick said that she had real talent for music, and that he looked forward with much pleasure to conducting the studies of a pupil who would do him such credit.

Christian enjoyed herself during this time. She forgot her fears; she felt stimulated to do her very best. Finally, she returned to the schoolroom with a sort of halo round her brow. She was certain that she had done well.

Soon it was whispered all over the school that Christian Mitford was nothing short of a genius—that she was one of the cleverest girls who had ever come to the school. These reports were of course exaggerated; but still the solid fact remained that she was put into the fourth class for all English studies, and into the lower fifth for French and music. That a girl of thirteen was in such a position spoke for itself. Florry, whose other name was Burton, looked at her with great black eyes of envy. Star Lestrange flung the words to the ceiling just above Christian's head:

[Pg 135]

"She's a genius, and she knows it, the darling young thing."

The look on Florry's face and the expression of mischief in Star's bright dancing eyes brought Christian back to the fact that attainments alone and a strong wish for study did not necessarily secure happiness in a school like Penwerne Manor. She could not get over her nervous fears.

"I deserve it," she said to herself. "I should not be one scrap—no, not one scrap—afraid if I hadn't done wrong; but it is just the terror of their finding out that keeps my heart beating so hard. Oh, dear! oh, dear! There's no way out, for I can't run way again, and father and mother are nearly in India now. As to Miss Neil, she saw no sympathy with anyone; and poor dear nurse and Miss Thompson can't help me even if they wish to. Oh, dear! I am an unhappy girl."

Christian was standing by herself in one corner of the great playground as these thoughts visited her. Presently a hand was laid on her shoulder, and beautiful little Star stood by her side.

"Let's be friends, Christian," she said in a hearty voice.

"Will you?" answered Christian, her eyes brightening.

"I'd like to," said Star. "I took a fancy to you the moment I saw your face, even though you did look so alarmed and so startled."

"You'd have been startled too," said Christian stoutly, "if you had heard an awful voice on the ceiling above your head talking about you."

Star laughed; then she looked grave.

"I can't help it," she said. "I really can't break myself of it. Darling Miss Peacock is sometimes angry; but who could resist the fun who had the power? Oh![Pg 136] the fright on your face a couple of hours ago was killing. You looked as though anyone could knock you down."

"But you did it twice," said Christian.

"Yes, my young genius, I did. But never mind me; when I ventriloquize, just acknowledge my talent, but at the same time consider me your friend. You and I are in the same class, and we can't help knocking up against each other. By the way, where is your bedroom? In the White Corridor?"

Christian nodded.

"I thought as much. I am in the White Corridor too. We may as well be friends, for I'm sure I'd be a disagreeable enemy."

"I'd love to be your friend," said Christian. "Do you really mean it?"

"I always mean what I say. You ask Lucy Norris. Have you met Lucy—little, satin-faced Lucy, with hair that shines like a looking-glass, blue eyes, rosebud lips, and cheeks the color of the peach? Ah, there she is! I'll call her. Lucy, beloved. Lucy! I say, Lucy! Lucy!"

The girl whom Star had so cleverly described looked round her in a startled way; then her eyes met the bright ones of Star Lestrange, and she ran up to her.

"What is it, Star? What do you want?"

"Your Satinship," replied Star. "I want very specially to introduce you to my new friend, Christian Mitford. I want you and me and one or two others to form a sort of bodyguard round her. You see——"

Star's voice dropped. She bent towards Lucy and whispered something in her ear.

Lucy colored and nodded. "You don't really think so?" she said.

[Pg 137]

"I am certain of it," responded Star. "That is what will happen unless we take care. Oh, don't you be frightened, my love," she continued, patting Christian with a sort of affectionate condescension, on the arm. "Lucy and I and——"

"Angela Goring," suddenly burst from Lucy's lips.

"Good, Lucy—capital! Lucy, Angel Goring, and I—— We must have one more, Lucy. Jane Price."

"Oh, why Jane Price?" said Lucy.

"Because she's just admirable. She's so stolid, you know, and so matter-of-fact, and so intensely sensible. We don't want all the flyaway girls of the school."

"I'm not flyaway, I'm sure," said Lucy.

"Except when you follow the erratic movements of the Star," replied Star, her eyes twinkling.

"You do lead us, and you know it, Star," said Lucy. "But, there! Angela will do nicely."

"Find her, then, love," said Star.

Lucy rushed away.

"What do you mean by a bodyguard? And why should I require one?" said Christian.

"My dear love, it will be only for a week or a fortnight, just to get you into the ways. The fact is, this school, for all its admirable qualities, has in it one or two black sheep. Now, I mustn't breathe any names; dear, sweet Miss Peacock never guesses at their existence, and we none of us ever mean to tell. You are the veriest of all very victims for such girls; therefore I want to guard you. Ah! here comes Angela. Hasn't she a nice face?"

A very tall, very slight girl, with coal-black hair and large, luminous dark eyes, now appeared. She was dressed in a rough gray tweed, with a leather belt round her waist. Her hair hung in a thick plait far below her waist.

[Pg 138]

"Angela," said Star, "Lucy has told you what we want you for."

"And I am very pleased," said Angela.

She spoke in a low, somewhat deep voice. Her eyes were resting on Christian as though she were already protecting her.

"Now for Jane Price, and our guard is complete," said Star.

Lucy appeared, leading Jane by the hand. Jane was a short, dumpy, and very plain girl. She had an enormous forehead and thin hair. Her hair was cut to a line level with her neck. Her dress was short, sensible, ugly. Her hands were big and somewhat red. She had small, honest eyes and a large mouth.

"Jane," said Star in a sprightly tone, "you are just the very person we want. This is the victim; we will guard her, won't we?"

"Three cheers!" cried Lucy. "Of course we will."

"You must come to us if you are in any difficulty, Christian," said Angela.

"And just let me know and I'll punch 'em all round," was Jane's remark.

Christian's face was very pale.

"Thank you all," she said. "No doubt you mean it in kindness, but I feel more frightened than ever."

"Oh, dear! the poor, sweet thing!" said Star. "Has anybody got a lollypop?"

Immediately three hands were thrust into three pockets. Star's alone was unattacked. She shook her head sadly.

"I haven't got any," she said. "I ate all mine up last night after I got into bed. Four-and-twenty I consumed, and I was none the worse this morning."

"You know that was very naughty of you, Star," said Angela.

[Pg 139]

"My dear, I can't help my propensities; never could. Oh, dear! oh, dear! sometimes I scarcely like to look into the beautiful, kind eyes of our beloved Lavinia, so naughty do I feel. And yet I'm not really naughty. I'm not rabid, I mean; am I, girls?"

"You are a duck and a darling," said Lucy.

"Well, your Satinship, have you got any sweeties, any fondants, any caramels?" interrupted Star.

A few rather sticky ones were produced. Christian suddenly found her voice.

"Do you really care for sweets?" she asked.

"Do we really care for sweets?" cried Star. "Aren't we schoolgirls? What do you mean?"

"Only that I have got such a big box. Miss Thompson bought them for me; and another box full of little cakes."

A wild cheer immediately was given. Handkerchiefs were waved in the air; the girls clapped and laughed until they nearly cried.

"Isn't she worth guarding? Won't we guard her double quick?" said Star. "You angel, we will attack those dainties presently, but now let us pace up and down in this corner of the playground."

"I am to see Miss Peacock at five o'clock," said Christian.

"You lucky young beggar! But, of course, I forgot; first-day girls are always fussed over. You will be all right to-day, Christian; it's to-morrow that the tug-of-war will begin."

Christian was silent for a minute; then she said slowly:

"I thank you four girls very much indeed. I suppose it is safer for me to have you as my friends."

"Safer!" cried Angela. "Having us as your[Pg 140] friends, you will never, never know what you have escaped."

"But would you mind telling me who the girls are? I mean the specially dreadful girls who are likely to be unkind. If I only knew I should not be so frightened."

"And that information we will never give you, dear genius," replied Star. "If you find out for yourself, alas for you! I only trust you will never find out. There's the tea-gong. Come in now; and you will sit at my table, as you belong to my class."

An hour later Christian found herself in Miss Peacock's presence. Miss Peacock was standing under a rose-colored lamp. She was reading a letter. Suddenly she raised her eyes and saw Christian. Christian was a striking-looking girl. She had a splendid carriage for her age; she held herself very erect, and kept her head well back on her shoulders. Her golden hair shone in the lamp-light. She came slowly forward, her eyes very wide open, her face pale, a look of entreaty round her mouth.

"Ah, Christian!" said Miss Peacock in a kind voice; "and how are you, dear? Are you taking your place in the school?"

"I don't know," replied Christian.

Miss Peacock took no notice of this vacillating remark. She motioned to Christian to seat herself in a shady corner, where she knew the young girl would be more comfortable than when exposed to the full glare of the light.

"I have got a very good report of you from your different mistresses and your music-master, dear," she said. "They all say you are remarkably well advanced for your age. That being the case, you will soon win a character for cleverness. A clever girl is always respected and thought a good deal of; and I trust you[Pg 141] will be respected and looked up to, Christian, and that you will help to bring a good influence into this school—a religious and moral influence, the efficacy of which can never be overrated."

"Oh, please," said Christian, with a little gasp, "you know what I have done!"

Miss Peacock was quite silent for a minute.

"What you did," she then said very gravely, "happened before you came to me."

"I know; but it was because of you—because of coming to the school—that I did it."

Miss Peacock's eyes twinkled for a minute.

"Would you rather discuss the whole thing with me, Christian, or, on the other hand, would you rather let it lie—forget it, cover it up, go straight forward as though it had never been?"

"I think I'd rather discuss it with you. And," continued Christian, "I think I'd rather"—her voice faltered; it sank almost to a whisper—"I think I'd rather the other girls knew."

These words evidently startled Miss Peacock very much.

"You would rather your schoolfellows knew? But it has nothing to do with them."

"There would be nothing then to find out," continued Christian. "As it is, I shall live in fear. Oh! it was good of you—it was sweet of you—to keep it dark; but I think I would rather they knew."

Miss Peacock was amazed. She sat quite still for a minute; then she rose and walked to the other end of the room. She rang a bell, and in a few moments Jessie appeared. Jessie wore the same peculiar expression as she had worn the night before. The look of extreme juvenility, which vanished almost as soon as she began to speak, and her girlish dress, her girlish[Pg 142] face, and her non-girlish voice, made her at once both striking and interesting.

"I understand from what Jessie has told me, that you have confided this matter to her, Christian," said Miss Peacock, turning to the young girl.

"I have. I had to; she was so very good to me, I could not let her live under the impression that I had been ill."

"I never gave anyone to understand that you were ill. I simply said that you were unavoidably detained. The girls are at liberty to form their own conclusions."

"There is an idea in the school that I was very ill," said Christian; "and," she added, "I don't like it, for you know"—she raised her clear eyes to Miss Peacock's face—"it is not true. You know it, don't you, Miss Peacock?"

Miss Peacock looked back at her with so intent a gaze that it seemed to the young girl that she was reading her through.

"Come here, Christian," she then said.

Christian rose. She now stood in the full light, and both Miss Peacock and Jessie could see the vivid pink in her cheeks and the brightness of her eyes. There was something about her which impressed them; the wonder on both their faces grew. At last Miss Peacock laid her hand on the girl's shoulder.

"Christian," she said, "you are a remarkably brave girl. You are a great deal braver than you have any idea of yourself. It would not be right to take you at your word without explaining matters. My dear, to have this escapade of yours known in the school would mean——"

"It cannot be known," interrupted Miss Jessie. "Miss Peacock, dear, it must not be known."

[Pg 143]

"That certainly was my feeling, Jessie; but if the child herself——"

"No, no," repeated Miss Jessie. "Even you, Miss Lavinia, can't guess all that goes on in a school like this."

"I shut my eyes on purpose," said Miss Peacock. "A school is a little world. In that world there must necessarily be evil; without evil good would have nothing to overcome. The brave girls will overcome the evil and rise on the wings of good. I don't want any girl at Penwerne Manor to be subjected to too severe a discipline, however—a discipline which may be greater than the strength of the girl can meet. Now Christian, you have asked me an extraordinary thing. You wish the school to be told about your conduct before you came here. You don't know enough, my dear, to make it possible for me to grant your request—at least yet. But come to me again at the end of a month, and if you still make the same request, I shall have pleasure in giving my own version of the whole affair to the girls of Penwerne Manor. I think that is all, Jessie; you can attend to your usual duties. Christian, come and sit on this stool near me; I should like to talk to you about long ago."

Miss Peacock drew the girl down to a seat close by her side.

"After what you have said, I put you in my own mind on a different footing from the other girls," she remarked. "Now, I am going to tell you something. I felt a great sense of rejoicing and a great sense of personal pleasure when I received a letter from your good father to say that he wished to place you at Penwerne Manor during his absence."

Christian made no reply. She raised her eyes and fixed them on Miss Peacock. Miss Peacock noticed[Pg 144] the frank, earnest look in the large eyes, and she put out her soft, well-formed white hand and smoothed back the hair from Christian's forehead.

"My dear child," she said, "my reason for being so pleased was that I owe, I think I may say, all that is good in my own life to your grandmother."

"To granny?" said Christian, in astonishment. Then she added, "I scarcely ever heard anything of granny until lately, but father spoke of her, and said that I—I wonder if it is true—that I resemble her."

"You are decidedly like her in appearance; only, of course, when I knew her she was an elderly woman. But you are more like her in mind. That was exactly the sort of thing she would have done. She would have been intensely naughty, and then intensely repentant. But there, dear! you are looking tired and flushed. Perhaps you had better go up to your own room early. Be sure you come to me in any difficulty, and regard me as your special friend. Good-night dear, and God bless you."

[Pg 145]

CHAPTER XV

THE ORDEAL AND THE VICTIM

Christian's head ached; she had gone through a good deal that day. At Penwerne Manor, for all except the Sixth Form girls, supper was a very simple affair. It was held in the refectory at half-past seven, and consisted of bread and butter, stewed fruit, and milk. Christian sat down to the simple meal, but she was not hungry. For the first time she was absolutely thrown on her own resources. Louisa Twining, being one of the Sixth Form girls, was not present at the other girls' supper. Christian's bodyguard was also nowhere to be seen. She sat near a quiet-looking girl of the name of Agnes Temple, but Agnes seemed as much afraid of Christian as Christian was of her, and did not venture to question her at all.

As soon as supper was over the young girl went up to Miss Jessie, who was standing at the top of the room.

"Are you cold, Christian?" said Miss Jessie. "Come and warm yourself by the fire."

"I wanted to know," said Christian, "if I might go to bed; I am tired."

"Certainly, if you like."

But as Miss Jessie spoke she glanced round the room. Suddenly a tall, awkward-looking girl, whom Christian had not noticed before, stood up.

"Has Christian Mitford asked to retire nearly an hour before the usual time?" was her query.

[Pg 146]

"Certainly, Sukey; and seeing that she is very tired, I am about to give her leave."

"But I am afraid that I, Susan Marsh, and Maud Thompson and Mary Hillary and Janet Bouverie, as well as several others in the school, cannot give Christian Mitford leave to go to bed without the usual ceremony being gone through."

Christian looked with some amazement first at the tall girl, then at Miss Jessie. To her surprise, she noticed that Miss Jessie's face got very red and then very white. The little lady went quickly down the length of the room, and laying a hand on Susan Marsh's shoulder, whispered something in her ear. She had to stand on tiptoe to make her remark, and Susan looked down at her and shook her head gravely. Miss Jessie then turned to the other girls, who also shook their heads. By and by the little lady had to go back again to Christian.

"It can't be helped, Christian, dear," she said. "Every girl goes through it; it is a sort of ordeal which seems to be part and parcel of the Manor. I can, if you wish it, apply to Miss Peacock; but I think I would rather not, and if you are wise you will not do so. It would squash the whole thing, but it would not be for your best happiness."

"Oh, I am not afraid—not really," said Christian; "and please don't say anything to Miss Peacock."

"You are a good girl. Now, the best thing you can do is to appear quite indifferent; then they won't get much fun out of you, and you will be all right."

"What is that about Christian, and having much fun, and being all right?" suddenly said a gay voice; and Star Lestrange, in a pale-blue frock, looking as pretty as a girl could look, danced into the room.

[Pg 147]

"The usual thing; you know all about it," said Miss Jessie.

"Of course I do; and so does Lucy Norris, and so does Jane Price, and so does Angela Goring."

"So many," said Miss Jessie in a tone of relief.

"Yes, Jessie, my honey, so you may go to bed with an easy mind; your new fledgling won't come to any harm. Now, come along, Christian. You have us four to look after you. We can't appear publicly as your bodyguard, but see if you won't feel our influence."

Christian, in her relief, almost squeezed Star's hand.

"Don't," said Star, who seemed to read her thought in her eyes. "It's not the fashion at Penwerne Manor to show much outward affection. I mean we never kiss, and we don't clasp arms much, or anything of that sort—not until we turn ourselves into what we call 'loverettes.' Sometimes two girls make a great friendship and declare it publicly in the school; then they're dubbed 'loverettes' by their fellows, and are allowed to sit alone, and walk about arm in arm. But that sort of thing doesn't often happen; and, for my part," continued Star, "I hate it."

"And yet I should have thought you were very affectionate," said Christian.

"Should you?" answered Star, favoring her with a full glance, which caused the young girl to shrink into her shoes.

In the corridor outside Susan Marsh was waiting. She had the most peculiar face Christian had ever seen in her life. It was not only plain, it was downright ugly; there was not one feature in harmony with another. She was very tall and very awkward in her movements. Her complexion was of a dull mud color; her hair was a dull, very light brown; her eyes were[Pg 148] small, her nose broad at the nostrils and very retroussé, her mouth wide. She had good teeth, but otherwise scarcely a redeeming feature. The expression of her face was as little pleasing as were her features. Nevertheless this girl had an extraordinary power over her fellows; she was never seen without a following, and many a little girl looked at her with a mingling of awe and terror as she waited now for Christian.

"So you are coming, Star," she said. "Well so much the better; we'll have some fun. Cheer up, victim; it's your night to go through the ceremony."

"But what is it?" said Christian.

"You will know, my pretty victim, when the time comes. We always have it in the big attic. It is great fun; it is the most delightful time in our lives. We were all very keen for your arrival, but you don't suppose it was simply for the sake of enjoying the first night of your sweet society? Nothing of the kind. It was on account of the ordeal. The ordeal is such fun!"

"Don't mind half she is saying," said Star Lestrange. "But come along, Christian. It is quite true; there is an ordeal, and you must go through it before you can really be what we pride ourselves on being—a Penwernian."

They now turned and went upstairs, past the nice rooms where the girls' bedrooms were located, and up again some narrow stairs, until, having opened an attic door, Christian found herself in a huge attic which ran right across the front of the house. This room had evidently been got ready for a ceremony. Candles in tin sconces were arranged along the wall; each sconce was fastened in its place by a small tack, and as the girls entered a short, very dark, stoutly built girl was going from one to the other lighting them. When[Pg 149] the illumination was at last complete, from twenty to thirty candles were burning in the front attic.

Christian had a curious feeling that she was back again in the attic at home. When she got upstairs her fears suddenly left her. She was to be the heroine of probably a very disagreeable adventure, but had she not herself from her earliest days encountered adventures of all sorts in the attic at home? What thrilling moments had not her dolls lived through? What times of ecstasy had been hers when she was Joan of Arc! Oh, that night when she had imagined herself tied to the stake! Had she not really tied herself to the post of the old bedstead, and had she not crowded round her torn pieces of paper, and shut her eyes, and tried to imagine the upward ascent of the flames? Had she not, finally, almost screamed in her agony, for had not real pains taken possession of her, so vivid and intense had been her imagination?

"After all," she said to herself, "I have my bodyguard, and they do look faithful, and nothing can be worse than what I lived through in imagination before now."

When Christian's eyes grew accustomed to the gloom she perceived that every single girl in the school, except three or four of the sixth form, was present. They seemed to her to have augmented in numbers, and to be a great deal more than the forty girls she had been told lived at Penwerne Manor. They stood about in groups, and all looked eager and pleased.

Christian noticed that a large wooden bowl had been placed upon the ground almost in the center of the attic, and a little straw chair, of a twisted, crooked, rickety, and decrepit nature, stood within a few feet of the wooden bowl. She herself remained near the door, and she was surprised as she entered the room to[Pg 150] notice that Star Lestrange immediately left her and walked right across the attic to the farther end, where she sat down on a turned-up box.

Very soon quick steps were heard running upstairs, and Lucy Norris, looking more smooth and sleek and satiny than ever, joined Star on her box. Jane Price was already standing near, and Angela Goring was the last to arrive. None of the four glanced at Christian, who remained alone, and looking thoroughly miserable, near the door. All of a sudden she felt that she had been subjected to a hoax, and that her bodyguard meant to desert her.

Meanwhile Susan Marsh took her place in the center of the room. She mounted a box, said something to Maud in a low tone, and then Maud took her place by her side.

"All present?" she cried. "Ah, yes! I see. Agnes Temple, stand to one side; you are disgracefully late. Yes, we are all here—all except Louisa Twining, Mary Reid, and Philippa Dawson. Well, the Sixth Form must have its privileges. Now to begin. Who is giving the address to-night? It's your turn, Star, and you are always witty. We want something to stir us up; we're a bit dull, I take it. Come along, now. What, you won't?"

"Not to-night," said Star.

"Does that mean that the new girl, the victim, is your special friend?"

Star shook her head.

"Or your special enemy?"

Again the bright head was shaken.

"She's neuter," said Star; "although I mean to see justice done."

"Then it devolves upon me," said Susan, "to open the function. I must explain the rules of the society[Pg 151] to the victim. Victim, kindly step forward. Seat yourself in this wriggly arm-chair, fix your eyes on my face, and listen to the words of deep, Solomon-like wisdom that drop from my lips."

Christian dropped into the chair, and the other girls looked at her with amazement and admiration. Many a girl before her had wriggled in agony in that small chair, had blushed and quivered and trembled, but Christian's face was quite calm. She looked full up at Susan and smiled.

Nothing in all the world could have been more discomfiting to Susan Marsh than that smile. It was seen by every single girl in the room, and quite a burst of admiration came from Star Lestrange, Lucy Norris, Jane Price, and Angela. Star clapped her hands, and immediately the whole school took up the clap. This from every girl in the place showed that Christian had made a favorable impression.

"Come, come!" said Susan brusquely, and looking more disagreeable than ever; "this noise is very much against the rules. Even those girls who have lived through the ordeal must not disturb the usual proceedings. Now then, Christian Mitford, your age, please?"

"Thirteen," said Christian.

"When will you have a birthday?"

"In three months' time."

"Mary Hillary, pray note in the archives of this society that the new victim, Christian Mitford, is thirteen years and nine months of age."

Mary, who was standing by a sort of little desk, opened it, took out a paper volume of most disreputable appearance, opened it, made an entry, with a sort of giggle, and then stood silent.

"It is your penalty, Christian Mitford, to put into the wooden bowl that lies at your feet a large caramel,[Pg 152] fondant, or chocolate for each month of your life. Who will solve the riddle of the months of Christian Mitford's life?"

Star immediately cried out:

"One hundred and sixty-five months."

"To that great age have you attained, Christian Mitford, and your penalty is that, having lived so long in the world, you must place upon the altar of our friendship a lollypop or other sweet for each of your months. You do this for the good of the community. The penalty is slight, and not at all in accordance with the offense."

"But I can't imagine what the offense is," said Christian suddenly. "As to having lollypops, there is a large box in my bedroom, and you are all welcome to have them if you like."

At this minute Star rose, and turning to Lucy, Jane, and Angela, motioned to them to follow her. The four girls came forward in single file, and each dropped on one knee before Christian and laid a box of chocolates at her feet.

"We are proud to be your ministers on this occasion," said Star, "and we have brought the penalty which you in your ignorance knew nothing about."

"I don't call that at all fair," cried Susan. "We all know that if a girl can't offer the necessary confectionery she has to give another forfeit of a different nature, and that forfeit is often of greater value to the society. But there!" she added, seeing that Star frowned, "if we must submit, I suppose we must. Be thankful to your ministers, therefore, Christian Mitford. Take up the sweets and deposit them in the bowl, but be sure you have the right number. Be sure you have one hundred and sixty-five sweetmeats—one for each month of your life."

[Pg 153]

Christian took up the boxes and unfastened them. Several girls crowded round as she reckoned them out and placed them in the bowl. Susan stood by counting with her lips as Christian deposited the sweets in their receptacle.

"So far so good," she said. "The fact of your having paid this forfeit exonerates you from other unpleasantnesses which certainly would have been your lot had those four girls, Star Lestrange, Lucy Norris, Jane Price, and Angela Goring, not come to the rescue. But now we have other matters to attend to. You know—or, if you don't know, you must be told—that any girl who comes to Penwerne Manor and doesn't enter into our secret society is outside in every sense of the word. She may be loved by her teachers—such a thing is quite possible—but she certainly will not be loved by the girls. She will not be allowed to share in any of the real conviviality of the school—the secret banquets, for instance. Now, girls, can any of you give a description of what the secret banquets are really like?"

Star jumped to her feet and began to speak eagerly.

"They're very naughty," she said. "They are conducted without our teachers knowing anything about them. They occur once a month—here. We generally assemble about half-past ten at night, and go back to our rooms about half-past eleven. We collect during the month for the expenses of the banquet. Our food is generally brought in by means of a basket and a rope through the attic window. The fun of the thing is to do it secretly. We try not to be too naughty, but we certainly have a gay time."

"It sounds interesting," said Christian, who felt that she could enjoy it; "but does Miss Peacock know?"

[Pg 154]

"Does Miss Peacock know?" suddenly exclaimed Maud Thompson, raising her voice for the first time, and giving Christian an angry look. "I'd like to see the girl who would tell Miss Peacock. Jessie knows; but then nobody minds Jessie. The other teachers don't know, and I trust never will. Mademoiselle is an old horror. We have to keep it from Mademoiselle, whatever happens."

"Now, you, Christian Mitford," continued Susan, "can, if you like, remain outside the society; but of course you will not."

"No, Christian," said Star; "you must join."

"And having joined, you must adhere to the rules," said Susan. "Now, to make the ceremony of membership of value, we always tattoo a tiny mark on the arm of a new member. We do this with nitrate of silver, a small bottle of which is kept up here. It hardly hurts at all, and if the victim objects——"

"Certainly, if you object, Christian, it is not to be done," said Star; "but," she added, with a laugh, "you had much better submit."

"I don't mind a bit," said Christian. "I have gone through worse things than that," she added.

Susan's eyes brightened and grew suddenly big. She fastened them on the young girl's face.

"I haven't the least doubt," she said, "that you will be an acquisition. You seem to have courage. Some girls get in such a funk."

"But I won't join," said Christian firmly, "until I know what it means."

"It means that we are to stick to each other through thick and thin; that you are never to tell; that when the members of the committee—I am one, Star Lestrange is another, Angela Goring is another, and Janet Bouverie is another—that when we decide on a certain[Pg 155] mode of action all the members have to adhere to it. They have to follow in our lead and submit to our dictum. Fresh members are elected on the committee every half-year, and on that day, the ceremony is very important indeed. The girls greatly like the present set—don't you, girls?"

There was a loud cheer, particularly in the neighborhood of Star Lestrange. Susan looked round her and slightly frowned.

"Each member has to subscribe something out of her own private pocket-money once a week to the funds of the society," said Susan; "and if possible she ought to begin with a handsome donation. What can you afford, Christian Mitford? You look as though you had plenty of money. I hope you will be able to put a good sum into the funds."

"A shilling is the usual thing," called out Star across the room.

"It would be better for you to give more," said Susan, gazing at Christian uneasily.

"I will give five shillings."

"Naughty, naughty little t'ing," said Star's ventriloquist voice over Christian's head.

"You really can't be allowed to break the rules in this fashion, even if you are a member of the committee, Star Lestrange," said Susan. "We shall be glad of five shillings, Christian. You don't seem to be such a formidable person nor so badly behaved as I expected. We will now, if you please, perform the ceremony of initiation."

The girls crowded round. Susan came forward.

"On this occasion," she said, "you, Maud Thompson, will perform the ceremony on Christian's arm."

Christian bared her arm, and Maud, with a tiny caustic pencil, wrote the word "Penwernian" in very[Pg 156] small letters just above her elbow. The caustic smarted slightly, but the pain was nothing to speak of.

"Now," continued Maud, "you belong to us, Christian Mitford—or at least you very nearly do. You have still to write your name in blood in this book. Don't be startled; just prick your finger. Here's the needle we always use for the purpose. Shall I do it for you?"

Before Christian could reply Maud made a sharp prick on her first finger, and a large drop of blood appeared. The pen was then put into Christian's hand, and she wrote her name in the members' book.

"Now you belong to our secret society," continued Maud. "You know what we know; you do what we do. Through thick and thin you will be faithful to us; through trouble and joy you belong to us. You would sooner have your heart cut into little bits than betray us. Very well, that is all right. Now begins the real pleasure of the evening. Girls," continued Maud, turning and facing the other girls as they crowded round her, "it is permitted, in honor of the new member, that the caramels, fondants, etc., put into that wooden bowl should now be divided. Long life to the new member. Christian, you as fresh member are permitted to eat one month of your life."

"Really," said Christian, laughing, "this sounds very formidable. I don't know that I want to eat away any part of my life."

She thought the ceremony had come to an end, and was rather relieved than otherwise; but her happiness was short-lived, for Susan came over and said calmly:

"Now then, be as quick as you can and give us an account of why you were unavoidably detained. Your unavoidable detention has been the talk of the school for the last fortnight. Now, we want to learn all about[Pg 157] you; for understand, it is absolutely necessary that each member of our secret society should have the full confidence of all the other members. The sooner, therefore, you begin to tell us your life's history the better."

[Pg 158]

CHAPTER XVI

SUSAN MARSH

Susan now, with quick, deft movements, removed the candles from their places by the wall, and placed them round the wooden bowl, which no longer contained any fondants, for they had all been devoured by the greedy Penwernians. The candles were arranged in a circle, and the girls were invited to seat themselves in a wider circle just beyond. Christian alone was so placed that the light from the candles should fall on her face.

"Now begin, please," said Susan; "all about your unavoidable detention first. And don't prevaricate; the soul of truth is the leading motive of our society. We scorn to conceal anything; we just speak the simple truth on all occasions."

There was a pause. For a minute it seemed to Christian as though she heard the beating of her own heart. She was quite still, and it was not until a small sharp voice sounded at the back of her ear: "It is the first step that costs"—that she found her voice.

Really Star was too trying, but she had the effect of stimulating the young girl into a terrible effort to control herself.

"I am very much obliged to you all for being so anxious to know about me," said Christian, "and I will tell you about my past life from time to time if you really desire it; but I don't intend to mention why I was kept from school. That is my own secret, and I intend to keep it."

[Pg 159]

"Naughty new member; that will never do," cried several gay voices.

"Hush!" said Susan in an imperative tone. "We all know what happens when members of this society refuse to obey the committee. But we will speak of that later on. Tell us just what you wish to tell us now, Christian."

"I will tell you a story," said Christian suddenly, "and it's all about myself."

"A story—that's good!" cried Agnes Temple, a look of satisfaction crossing her commonplace little face. "I love stories about people." Then, fixing her eyes on her companion's face, she said, "I like Christian Mitford—don't you?"

"Please don't talk any more in that whisper," suddenly exclaimed Star. "Now then, Christian, we will not compel your confidence to-night. It might have been," she continued, glancing round at her fellows, "anything. It might mean an accident to the head or to the heart, in which case it would be extremely dangerous to press for an explanation. You shall tell us just what you like, Christian," she continued, "only don't draw on your imagination if you can help it."

"What I tell you will be true," answered Christian, "only I don't suppose any of you will believe me. I am an only child. All my days I should have been terribly lonely but for my attic."

"Oh, dear!" cried Maud Thompson; "perhaps she has belonged to other secret societies. She would have been very lonely but for her attic. Please tell us all about your attic."

"I will," said Christian, "if you won't interrupt."

She then proceeded to give a vivid picture of her early days. She described her life so that the girls who listened no longer interrupted with silly words or [Pg 160]sarcastic remarks; they were so interested that they forgot themselves. Christian spoke of her doll days, then of her fairy-story days, and last of her heroic days. When she got to the subject of Joan of Arc it seemed to the girls that no history had ever been so thrilling.

"It was one dreadful dark day," she continued, suddenly rising to her feet and forgetting about everything but that picture of the past which was rising up in her mind. "There was snow outside, and I thought and I thought, and it seemed to me that I was Joan and in prison. I thought I would put on the armor which was to be my undoing. I saw myself in it, and I was glad and not at all afraid. And then—and then—there came the trial. Oh! it lasted so long, and I seemed to live through it all. I was condemned to death. I saw myself; I was there. I was burnt, and I did go through it all."

"Oh, nonsense!" here cried Mary Hillary. "Your head must be affected."

"No, no; I did go through it all in imagination," said Christian. "I made it, too, as realistic as possible. There was an old, old bedstead, and one of the posts was broken. I bound myself to the post—yes, with real chains, too; they belonged to a dog we used to keep in a kennel. They were rusty, but that did not matter. And I piled up papers round me, all torn up in great pieces; and I had some red paper to imitate the color of the flames. I made the paper come higher and higher, and I fancied I saw a crowd, and I was burned."

"Oh, dear! you are an extraordinary girl," said Angela Goring. "Don't you think that sort of thing is very bad for you?"

The others were silent. Christian dropped down again on her seat.

[Pg 161]

"I have no more to tell you to-night," she said. "It takes it out of me to feel like that. I wouldn't tell you, but if we are Penwernians that means that we are comrades—and comrades must understand each other. If you all will be friends with me I will be your friend. Oh, I hope you will; I was a little afraid of you to-day, but I don't really think I will be afraid any longer."

"I, as a member of the committee, declare our meeting is now dissolved," said Star Lestrange suddenly. "It is time for us to go to our bedrooms. Go softly, everyone. Jessie wouldn't tell, but the other mistresses are no end of tell-tale-tits. Good-night, Christian."

"Christian," said Janet Bouverie suddenly, "I'm glad you have come to the school, and I hope you will be friends with me."

A great many other girls came up and shook hands with Christian. She had scored a success. One by one, like little frightened shadows, the Penwernians stole to their separate rooms. Fortunately for Christian, hers was not far off, as the White Corridor was the nearest to the celebrated front attic.

She was glad to see a bright fire burning in the grate, but she started very violently when she saw standing by the fire no less a person than Miss Jessie herself.

"Come in, dear," said Miss Jessie. "I know all about it, of course. If I were a teacher I should be obliged to tell; but I am not a teacher, and dear Lavinia gives me a good deal of liberty. I do not feel that I am obliged to make mischief. As long as you girls keep up your little mystery and don't do anything wrong, I don't feel called upon to make you unhappy. Don't tell me, dear, what has happened; I'd much rather not know. But come to the fire; you look quite blue and cold."

[Pg 162]

"Oh, in some ways I have had a splendid time," said Christian.

"I am relieved to hear it, my love. To tell the truth, I have been a little anxious about you, Christian."

"Why?" asked Christian.

"Because your face has a strange expression—just as though you felt things too much."

"I am naughtier than most girls; that is why," said Christian.

"My dear child, let me assure you that you are nothing of the kind. I know a lot about girls, living here as I do. Even dear Lavinia can't see them as I do, for they are always on their best behavior with her, and they don't mind little Jessie in the very least. But now, dear, I came to your room on purpose to tell you that your real life here begins to-morrow. You will, like everyone else, have your hardships; you will also have your period of discipline, and I earnestly beg of you, Christian, not for the sake of a purely quixotic motive to get yourself into hot water by telling something which never happened in the school. In regard to this remember, my dear, it is your duty to be guided by the superior judgment of dear Lavinia Peacock."

Christian made no answer. Miss Jessie looked into her eyes.

"You are over-anxious, dear. I trust you will sleep. Is your fire all right? Ah! I see it is. I wish I could give you this little luxury every night, but it is against our rules. We have a fire once a week in each bedroom, just to keep it warm and aired, but that is all. Now I will put on two additional lumps of coal. You will be quite happy, dear. The great gong will wake you at seven o'clock to-morrow morning; you are expected to be down at half-past seven. At eight we[Pg 163] have breakfast, and then prayers. You will soon know all the routine. And now, love, good-night."

Christian stood for a few minutes by the fire. It certainly was cheerful, and the little room snug. She felt that she might soon be happy at school. As to being interested, she had never felt so intensely interested before. The girls were so naïve, so fresh. Even those who terrified her aroused her interest. She did not like Susan Marsh, but even Susan had something fascinating about her. Then, as to Star, was anybody ever before so gay, so bright, so willful?

"And she was good to me," thought the child—"really good. She helped me when I was frightened. She showed me how I might take a proper place in the school. I love her already. I shall love her well. How strange it is that I should be supplied with a sort of bodyguard! Star and Lucy and Jane and Angela. I can't say that they did much for me while I was going through the initiation, but still they were there. I suppose they acted rightly in not making their presence too much felt. Star said they were to be a sort of invisible bodyguard, ready to help me in times of real difficulty and danger, but as a rule allowing me to get out of my own scrapes, when I don't absolutely require their assistance."

Christian removed her dress and looked at her arm. It still smarted a little from the initial ceremony.

"How ridiculous all this is!" she said to herself. "Father and mother would smile over it; and yet it didn't seem ridiculous up there."

She wondered what her father would say if he ever heard of that evening's event. Then, having knelt for a minute or two in prayer, she got into bed.

But Christian's adventures for that night were by no means over; for, just as she was getting drowsy and[Pg 164] was dropping off to sleep, the door of her room glided open noiselessly, and Susan Marsh stood before her.

"I have come," said Susan, "to say something. I shan't take up much of your time, but I think it only right that you should know. You are sleepy, but you must not go to sleep until I have had my talk out. By the way, what a snug room! And a fire, too. Dear me! do you think you deserve all these luxuries?"

"Certainly, if my parents choose to pay for them," replied Christian.

She found herself speaking in a pert voice, but her heart was beating and the old terrors were returning.

"How grand we are!" said Susan mockingly. "I wonder if the parents know what the dear young only girl is up to. Now, Christian, please note that I am in the position to assure you calmly, simply, but at the same time firmly, that you are in my power."

"I in your power?" said Christian. "What do you mean?"

"This: I happen to know all about that unavoidable detention. I know what it consisted of. I know the full particulars. I know all about that wicked, wicked running away from home, and the name of the little girl who went with you, and the slum where you went, and the room that you slept in, and the reason why you were not allowed to return to the school for ten days. I can tell that story to the whole school; and I will, too, if you don't make it worth my while to be silent."

"I will never make it worth your while to be silent," said Christian. "I can't imagine how you learnt it, but you have learnt it by dishonorable means. Anyhow, I am not going to be afraid of you."

"Aren't you?" said Susan. "There is plenty of firelight; that is a good thing. A fire is nice, and[Pg 165] we are quite alone—absolutely safe and comfortable—so we will just argue this matter."

"You may say anything you like," replied Christian very stoutly, "but I am not going to be afraid of you."

Her attitude and manner, and even the look on her face, impressed Susan. She was evidently astonished.

"Why does Miss Peacock say that you were unavoidably detained?" was her next remark.

"You must ask Miss Peacock that yourself," replied Christian.

"Very well; I must now tell you the simple truth, Christian Mitford. You can take whatever attitude you please on this occasion. You may pretend to be indifferent, but you don't know what it means. It lies in your power to tell the school or not."

"That is what I intend to do," said Christian.

"Is it? Well, we'll see. If you do it you will imagine yourself a sort of heroine, no doubt; you will think yourself extremely brave. But wait for the result. How do you think your schoolfellows will take it? You spent the night, for instance, in the slums. We don't any of us—we lady girls who live in this school—know what the slums mean, but you do. Then you were fearfully wicked and disobedient. The girls who are not wicked and who are not disobedient will be afraid of you. In short, I may as well assure you, Christian, if you tell this thing, if it is known in the school, you will be sent to Coventry. Do you know what Coventry means?"

"I have heard of it, but I should like to have your version," said Christian.

"You are very smart and courageous in your conversation now, but you won't be when you feel the full pinch of Coventry life. Just picture to yourself what[Pg 166] it will feel like never to be spoken to by your companions, to be without friends in the midst of a lot of girls, to be publicly expelled from the Penwernians."

"Oh, I don't mind that," said Christian.

"You haven't the remotest idea what it means or you wouldn't say so. Your mistresses may continue to like you, but there isn't a good, nice girl in the school who will dare to be seen speaking to you. You will live on here year after year, and not until all the present girls leave the school will you have any chance of becoming popular. Now, naturally you would be popular; you are just the sort of girl. That power of yours of telling stories is an immense attraction. It might win the heart of nearly every girl in the place. But after your sin is known no one will listen to you. And why, do you think? Because the committee of the Penwernians will forbid it. Now, of course, the mistresses have great power in the school; but, although they would not like to own it, their power is nothing at all compared to the power of our secret society. If you, who have just been made a member of it, were at once expelled because of conduct which makes it impossible for us to have anything to do with you, you would be in a sorry position. You can think the thing over. I don't want to press you, but my advice to you is to take advantage of Miss Lavinia Peacock's kindness and not to tell what you have done."

Susan's words came out slowly. She made a pause now and then, and these pauses were very effective. Her ugly face was full of deep shadows in the firelight. Her eyes were scarcely visible at all. It was only her white teeth that gleamed now and then. As she stood she herself made a great shadow, and it seemed to Christian that Susan was a bad girl, and that she hated and, alas! feared her.

[Pg 167]

"If I could only speak to Star," she thought. "What am I to do?"

"What I say to you is in absolute confidence," continued Susan, who knew that she was at last making an impression. "For your own sake you ought really not to tell. It doesn't matter to me. If you do tell you will find it distinctly—yes, dreadfully—unpleasant. Miss Peacock must have known that fact when she so wisely resolved not to acquaint the girls with the truth."

"But I don't care to live under a lie or to sail under false colors," said Christian slowly.

"You are a little goose," replied Susan; and now she changed both her attitude and manner, and coming close, she laid her hand upon the bed. Christian's hand was lying outside the counterpane, and Susan caught it and held it firmly.

"You are one of us," she said, "and of course we all want to like you. I for one feel that I could adore you. It is because I pity you that I speak."

"But how did you know? It is a secret from the whole school. How did you manage to get possession of it?" said Christian.

"Ah! that is my affair. I can only say now that I am in possession of it, and can give you full particulars of your great adventure. The name of your little runaway friend is Rose Latimer; and another horrid girl called Judith Ford was implicated in the affair. Now, are you satisfied?"

"I see that you know, but I can't make out how you know."

"Be satisfied with that knowledge, for more you will not be told. Now, you have almost made up your mind, have you not, that you will not tell?"

"You have frightened me very much. I will think it over."

[Pg 168]

"Do, and to-morrow we will meet again. I won't stay with you now, for I know you are sleepy. Of course you will pay me."

"For what?"

"For my silence, dear—my silence. What you give me I shall spend on fondants for the next meeting of the Penwernians. Have you got any money handy?"

Poor Christian! A bright new sovereign lay on the dressing-table. At that very moment Susan's eyes fell upon it.

"Why, here's the very thing," she said. "It will keep me silent for a while. You will be happy and have a right good time, for I can see to that. Thank you so much! Good-night."

She snatched up the money and put it into her pocket.

"No, no; come back, please—come back!" called Christian.

But Susan gave a low laugh and a gesture of warning, and disappeared from the room.

It was long before Christian could sleep. After the relief that the meeting had given her, to come face to face with such a terrible obstacle as Susan Marsh made her feel almost wild with apprehension. She had no one to turn to, for she did not dare to betray Susan. What was to be done?

"If I do the right thing," thought the poor girl, "Susan Marsh will be my enemy, and I dare not tell the mistresses. Oh, I wish—I wish father and mother had never sent me to this terrible school!"

[Pg 169]

CHAPTER XVII

THE BOUDOIRS

Two or three days after the events related in the last chapter, Susan Marsh might have been seen pacing up and down with her chosen friend Maud Thompson. Maud, compared to Susan, was rather a pretty girl; and under other influences she might have been a good girl. She had taken a fancy to Christian, and was telling Susan of this fact.

"Like her as much as ever you please," said Susan, "but remember she is my prey."

"Your prey, Susan! Whatever do you mean? Sometimes you don't talk at all nicely."

"Lower your voice a little, my love," said Susan; "we don't want the others to hear us. We have a whole quarter of an hour, and I have a plan in my head."

"You always are planning things. But I do want to talk about Christian now. I can't think why you call her your prey."

"Of course, I have no secrets from you, Maud; you are my chosen friend, and would not dare to betray me, even if you wished to do so. But the fact is, I have got hold of the poor dear's secret."

"Christian Mitford's secret?"

"Yes; the true story of her unavoidable detention."

"I wonder she won't tell us about that. She never will. It rather surprises me," said Maud.

"Rest assured, dear Maud, that she is never likely[Pg 170] to tell you. She would be a mighty great fool if she did."

"And you know all about it?"

"I know all about it, sweet? Oh, yes."

"You look very queer, Susan. I wish you would not have that——"

"That what, Maudie?"

"That sort of pleasure in seeing people unhappy. It isn't nice."

"Oh, isn't it, Maud? What about the kind friend who gets others out of their troubles. You know——"

"You needn't go into that," said Maud, coloring and then turning white.

"Ah! but I thought I'd just remind you, dear. But to return to our beloved Christian. She really is a very noble specimen of her name—very conscientious and all that—but, notwithstanding, I think we shall get her to do pretty much what we like; and all and entirely by means of that little secret of hers, which she must never tell except, to your humble servant."

"But why—why—why?"

"Oh, inquisitive one. Your desires are not to be gratified. But now to turn to other matters. I propose that we shall have a very great feast in the front attic, to which all members of the Penwernian Society are to be invited, on the second Saturday in February. That is exactly one fortnight from now. We must have a real supper, and everything in first-rate style; and Florence Dixie and her two friends, Ethel and Emma Manners, are all to be invited."

"What nonsense! You know quite well we can't invite strangers to the front attic. It is bad enough to have these feasts at all, as it were, in the dark, and with Jessie knowing all the time."

"Jessie will never tell. And don't you know by this[Pg 171] time, Maud, that Miss Peacock—the dear, blessed, saintly Lavinia—winks at our little peccadillos? She could find out if she chose to, but she is too wise, bless her, the darling! Well, of course, neither Jessie nor Miss Peacock is to know of this. I have spoken already to Florence Dixie and to the two Manners girls, and they are wild to come. They want to join the society, but of course that can't be entertained; I do draw the line at that. We shall get them in by means of a ladder put up to the window. Won't it be splendid?"

"It certainly will," said Maud. "How daring you are, Susan! Do you think Star and Lucy and Angela will join us?"

"Do I think ducks will swim?" was Susan's remark. "But now, my dear love, in order to have these girls we must have funds. What do you think of this?"

As Susan spoke she thrust her hand into her pocket and drew out a whole beautiful golden sovereign.

"Why, Susan," said Maud, in astonishment, "however did you get it?"

"From the dear, the precious young Christian. The price of her detention, you understand."

"Oh, you are not blackmailing the poor child? How wrong of you! How cruel!"

"You use very ugly words, Maud; you forget yourself. Now, the fewer questions you ask the better. This sovereign will buy a grand supper, and we shall have a jolly time."

"But if we are found out. You know how furious Miss Peacock would be at our introducing outsiders into the school."

"We won't be found out; we shall be far too careful for that. But please understand, Maud, that what I have told you is in strictest confidence; you must not[Pg 172] breathe it to another soul. Meanwhile you may be as nice as you like to Christian. Go and talk to her now, poor child! She is standing over there by herself, looking desolate and gazing out to sea."

"I won't go to her," said Maud. "Some of the things you do, Susan, make me wretched. I do wish you'd be straight and nice and honorable like Star. I am sure she has no end of fun in her, and is most daring, but she would never stoop to your sort of things."

"Really, Maud, I don't know what to make of you. If you go on like this I shall have to get some other girl to be my special friend; and then, dear little love, look out for squalls, for don't you remember——"

Susan bent and whispered into Maud's tiny, shell-like ear. Maud colored.

"Go and look up your lessons," continued Susan, pushing her away with a contemptuous motion; "your French was not specially creditable to-day. I will approach Christian and have a chat with her."

Maud ran off at once. Susan looked after her. Susan's overhanging brows gave a decided scowl to her face.

She approached Christian Mitford softly, and when she came within a short distance, said in a mincing voice, and in the tone of a person drawling out a hymn:

"Come hither, little Christian,

And hearken unto me;

I'll tell you what the daily life

Of a Christian child should be."

Christian turned at once angrily. "I don't want to speak to you," she said.

"But you must, love; you really must. We are[Pg 173] going to have such a lovely time in the attic on Saturday fortnight—the best we ever had—and you are to be present, and we are all to wear our white dresses. We will look like so many cherubs, won't we? And there's to be such a supper—got out of your sovereign, darling."

"Susan, I can't give you any more money. I only had two sovereigns when Miss Neil left me; she said they were to last until——"

"How long, dearest? Until you ran away again?"

"Oh, don't!" said Christian. "How cruel you are! I have almost made up my mind——"

"What, Christian? To what have you made up your mind?"

"That I won't stand this. It would be much—much braver to me to tell. I'll consult Star; she will know how to advise me."

Now, this was the very last thing that Susan wished. Although she was quite certain that she herself could so manage matters as to send Christian to Coventry if she did tell, she also knew that if Star discovered the truth, she (Susan) would be the person reduced to that uncomfortable position.

"It would be madness for you to tell Star," she said, changing her tone to one of great sympathy. "She's a very upright, honorable sort of girl; she would be shocked—absolutely shocked."

"Are you sure? She always seems so kind; although of late somehow she has not taken much notice of me."

Susan laughed. "Take my advice," she said, "and keep your own counsel. Tell no one except your own Susy, who, of course, won't repeat anything. I have nearly done getting what money I want from you; and isn't it better to be a little short of funds than to be[Pg 174] hated by everybody? Come, now; let's take a walk and have a cozy-pozy time together."

Susan's "cozy-pozy time" was scarcely enjoyed by Christian, who was learning to dislike her companion more and more day by day. The young girl often wondered at the intense feeling of hatred that was growing up in her heart for this disagreeable and wicked girl.

"How little I knew when I ran away what it would all mean!" thought the poor child. "Oh, dear! if only father and mother were in England I might consult them. But there is no one—no one to go to for help."

Susan did not find her companion very agreeable, and after informing her of this fact in no flattering terms, ran off to seek more congenial friends.

The girls always had an hour to themselves in the early part of the afternoon, when they might do exactly as they liked. They need not walk, they need not study; they might wander in the grounds, or they might sit by the comfortable schoolroom fires, or they might visit the boudoirs.

Amongst the special attractions to be found at Penwerne Manor were the boudoirs. These consisted of a number of small rooms, beautifully furnished, very bright, very cheerful, and specially devoted to the girls of the school. Each class had a room to itself, but a girl belonging to one class could invite a friend to have tea with her in another boudoir or classroom, provided the invitation was given for this special hour. At other times each class was expected to keep strictly to its own boudoir.

Christian had long rejoiced in the fact that she was in the same class as Star Lestrange, and equally was she delighted to know that Susan, a much bigger and older girl, was two classes lower down in the school.[Pg 175] Susan would never have dreamt of bullying so clever a girl as Christian but for the rare chance of having discovered her secret.

Feeling cold and chilly now, the young girl crossed the wide hall, went down the corridor where the boudoirs were situated, and opened the door of the fourth class boudoir and entered. This room went by the name of the Hall of Good Nature. It was one of Miss Peacock's curious fancies to call the boudoirs after virtues; Charity Hall, Hope Hall, Kindness Hall, were to be found in the little group. The name of each room was carved in white over the lintel of the door, and now as Christian entered she raised her eyes to look at the words.

"The Hall of Good Nature," she said to herself.

She uttered a deep sigh. She wondered if there was any real kindness left in the world. She felt terribly lonely and depressed. But for Susan, and but for her own wrong-doing, how happy she would be here! For she could not help confessing to herself that the life was beautiful; all its days were planned out with such true common-sense and such broad ideas with regard to all that was necessary for the growth of young and sensitive girls, that happiness could not but be the result. There were strong interests, too, in the school, and Miss Lavinia herself was so delightful that to obtain a kind word from her or a smile from her face was sufficient incentive for any amount of hard work.