A World of Girls: The Story of a School

Annie found herself at this time in an ever-shifting mood – one moment she longed intensely for a kiss, and a fervent pardon from Mrs Willis’s lips; another, she said to herself defiantly she could and would live without it; one moment the hungry and sorrowful look in Hester’s eyes went straight to Annie’s heart, and she wished she might restore her little treasure whom she had stolen; the next she rejoiced in her strange power over Nan, and resolved to keep all the love she could get.

In short, Annie was in that condition when she could be easily influenced for good or evil – she was in that state of weakness when temptation is least easily resisted.

A few days after the arrival of Nan’s nurse Mrs Willis was obliged unexpectedly to leave home; a near relative was dangerously ill in London, and the school-mistress went away in much trouble and anxiety. Some of her favourite pupils flocked to the front entrance to see their beloved mistress off. Amongst the group Cecil stood, and several girls of the first-class; many of the little girls were also present, but Annie was not amongst them. Just at the last moment she rushed up breathlessly; she was tying some starry jasmine and some blue forget-me-nots together, and as the carriage was moving off she flung the charming bouquet into her mistress’s lap.

Mrs Willis rewarded her with one of her old looks of confidence and love; she raised the flowers to her lips and kissed them, and her eyes smiled on Annie.

“Good-bye, dear,” she called out; “good-bye, all my dear girls; I will try and be back to-morrow night. Remember, my children, during my absence I trust you.”

The carriage disappeared down the avenue, and the group of girls melted away. Cecil looked round for Annie, but Annie had been the first to disappear.

When her mistress had kissed the flowers and smiled at her, Annie darted into the shrubbery and stood there wiping the fast-falling tears from her eyes. She was interrupted in this occupation by the sudden cries of two glad and eager voices, and instantly her hands were taken, and some girls rather younger than herself began to drag her in the opposite direction through the shrubbery.

“Come, Annie – come at once, Annie, darling,” exclaimed Phyllis and Nora Raymond. “The basket has come; it’s under the thick laurel-tree in the back avenue. We are all waiting for you; we none of us will open it till you arrive.”

Annie’s face, a truly April one, changed as if by magic. The tears dried on her cheeks; her eyes filled with sunlight; she was all eager for the coming fun.

“Then we won’t lose a moment, Phyllis,” she said; “we’ll see what that duck of a Betty has done for us.”

The three girls scampered down the back avenue, where they found five of their companions, amongst them Susan Drummond, standing in different attitudes of expectation near a very large and low-growing laurel-tree. Everyone raised a shout when Annie appeared; she was undoubtedly recognised as queen and leader of the proceedings. She took her post without an instant’s hesitation, and began ordering her willing subjects about.

“Now, is the coast clear? yes, I think so. Come, Susie, greedy as you are, you must take your part. You alone of all of us can cackle with the exact imitation of an old hen: get behind that tree at once and watch the yard. Don’t forget to cackle for your life if you even see the shadow of a footfall. Norah, my pretty birdie, you must be the thrush for the nonce; here, lake your post, watch the lawn and the front avenue. Now then, girls, the rest of us can see what spoils Betty has provided for us.”

The basket was dragged from its hiding-place, and longing faces peered eagerly and greedily into its contents.

“On, oh! I say, cherries! and what a lot! Good Betty! dear, darling Betty! you gathered those from your own trees, and they are as ripe as your apple-blossom cheeks! Now then, what next? I do declare, meringues! Betty knew my weakness. Twelve meringues – that is one and a half apiece; Susan Drummond sha’n’t have more than her share. Meringues and cheesecakes and – tartlets – oh! oh! what a duck Betty is! A plum-cake – good, excellent Betty, she deserves to be canonised! What have we here? Roast chickens – better and better! What is in this parcel? Slices of ham; Betty knew she dare not show her face again if she forgot the ham. Knives and forks, spoons – fresh rolls – salt and pepper, and a dozen bottles of ginger-beer, and a little corkscrew in case we want it.”

These various exclamations came from many lips. The contents of the basket were carefully and tenderly replaced, the lid was fastened down, and it was once more consigned to its hiding-place under the thick boughs of the laurel.

Not a moment too soon, for just at this instant Susan cackled fiercely, and the little group withdrew, Annie first whispering —

“At twelve to-night, then, girls – oh, yes, I have managed the key.”

Chapter Twenty Seven

Truants

It was a proverbial saying in the school that Annie Forest was always in hot water; she was exceedingly daring, and loved what she called a spice of danger. This was not the first stolen picnic at which Annie reigned as queen, but this was the largest she had yet organised, and this was the first time she had dared to go out of doors with her satellites.

Hitherto these naughty sprites had been content to carry their baskets full of artfully-concealed provisions to a disused attic which was exactly over the box-room, and consequently out of reach of the inhabited part of the house. Here, making a table of a great chest which stood in the attic, they feasted gloriously, undisturbed by the musty smell or by the innumerable spiders and beetles which disappeared rapidly in all directions at their approach; but when Annie one day incautiously suggested that on summer nights the outside world was all at their disposal, they began to discover flaws in their banqueting-hall. Mary Price said the musty smell made her half sick; Phyllis declared that at the sight of a spider she invariably turned faint; and Susan Drummond was heard to murmur that in a dusty, fusty attic even meringues scarcely kept her awake. The girls were all wild to try a midnight picnic out of doors, and Annie in her present mood, was only too eager for the fun.

With her usual skill she organised the whole undertaking, and eight agitated, slightly frightened, but much excited girls retired to their rooms that night. Annie, in her heart of hearts, felt rather sorry that Mrs Willis should happen to be away; dim ideas of honour and trustworthiness were still stirring in her breast, but she dared not think now.

The night was in every respect propitious; the moon would not rise until after twelve, so the little party could get away under the friendly shelter of the darkness, and soon afterwards have plenty of light to enjoy their stolen feast. They had arranged to make no movement until close on midnight, and then they were all to meet in a passage which belonged to the kitchen regions, and where there was a side door which opened directly into the shrubbery. This door was not very often unlocked, and Annie had taken the key from its place in the lock some days before. She went to bed with her companions at nine o’clock as usual, and presently fell into an uneasy doze. She awoke to hear the great clock in the hall strike eleven and a few minutes afterwards she heard Miss Danesbury’s footsteps retiring to her room at the other end of the passage.

“Danesbury is always the last to go to bed,” whispered Annie to herself; “I can get up presently.”

She lay for another twenty minutes, then, softly rising, began to put on her clothes in the dark. Over her dress she fastened her waterproof, and placed a close-fitting brown velvet cap on her curly head. Having dressed herself, she approached Susan’s bed with the intention of rousing her.

“I shall have fine work now,” she said, “and shall probably have to resort to cold water. Really, if Susy proves too hard to wake, I shall let her sleep on – her drowsiness is past bearing.”

Annie, however, was considerably startled when she discovered that Miss Drummond’s bed was without an occupant.

At this moment the room door was very softly opened, and Susan, fully dressed and in her waterproof, came in.

“Why, Susy, where have you been?” exclaimed Annie. “Fancy you being awake a moment before it is necessary!”

“For once in a way I was restless,” replied Miss Drummond, “so I thought I would get up, and take a turn in the passage outside. The house is perfectly quiet, and we can come now; most of the girls are already waiting at the side door.”

Holding their shoes in their hands, Annie and Susan went noiselessly down the carpetless stairs, and found the remaining six girls waiting for them by the side door.

“Rover is our one last danger now,” said Annie, as she fitted the well-oiled key into the lock. “Put on your shoes, girls, and let me out first; I think I can manage him.”

She was alluding to a great mastiff which was usually kept chained up by day. Phyllis and Norah laid their hands on her arm.

“Oh, Annie, oh, love, suppose he seizes on you, and knocks you down – oh, dare you venture?”

“Let me go,” said Annie a little contemptuously; “you don’t suppose I am afraid?”

Her fingers trembled, for her nerves were highly strung; but she managed to unlock the door and draw back the bolts, and, opening it softly, she went out into the silent night.

Very slight as the noise she made was, it had aroused the watchful Rover, who trotted around swiftly to know what was the matter. But Annie had made friends with Rover long ago by stealing to his kennel door and feeding him, and she had now but to say “Rover” in her melodious voice, and throw her arms around his neck, to completely subvert his morals.

“He is one of us, girls,” she called in a whisper to her companions; “come out. Rover will be as naughty as the rest of us, and go with us as our bodyguard to the fairies’ field. Now, I will lock the door on the outside, and we can be off. Ah, the moon is getting up splendidly, and when we have secured Betty’s basket, we shall be quite out of reach of danger.”

At Annie’s words of encouragement the seven girls ventured out. She locked the door, put the key into her pocket, and, holding Rover by his collar; led the way in the direction of the laurel-bush. The basket was secured, and Susan, to her disgust, and Mary Morris were elected for the first part of the way to carry it. The young truants then walked quickly down the avenue until they came to a turn-stile which led into a wood.

Chapter Twenty Eight

In The Fairies’ Field

The moon had now come up brilliantly, and the little party were in the highest possible spirits. They had got safely away from the house, and there was now, comparatively speaking, little fear of discovery. The more timid ones, who ventured to confess that their hearts were in their mouths while Annie was unlocking the side door, now became the most excited, and perhaps the boldest, under the reaction, which set in. Even the wood, which was comparatively dark, with only patches of moonlight here and there, and queer weird shadows where the trees were thinnest, could not affect their spirits.

The poor, sleepy rabbits must have been astonished that night at the shouts of the revellers, as they hurried past them, and the birds must have taken their sleepy heads from under their downy wings, and wondered if the morning had come some hours before its usual time.

More than one solemn old owl blinked at them, and hooted as they passed, and told them in owl language what silly, naughty young things they were, and how they would repent of this dissipation by-and-by. But if the girls were to have an hour of remorse, it did not visit them then; their hearts were like feathers, and by the time they reached the fields where the fairies were supposed to play their spirits had become almost uncontrollable.

Luckily for them this small green field lay in a secluded hollow, and more luckily for them no tramps were about to hear their merriment. Rover, who constituted himself Annie’s protector, now lay down by her side, and as she was the real ringleader and queen of the occasion, she ordered her subjects about pretty sharply.

“Now, girls, quick; open the basket. Yes, I’m going to rest. I have organised the whole thing, and I’m fairly tired; so I’ll just sit quietly here, and Rover will take care of me while you set things straight. Ah! good Betty; she did not even forget the white table-cloth.”

Here one of the girls remarked casually that the grass was wet with dew, and that it was well they had all put on their waterproofs.

Annie interrupted again in a petulant voice —

“Don’t croak, Mary Morris. Out with the chickens, lay the ham in this corner, and the cherries will make a picturesque pile in the middle. Twelve meringues in all, that means a meringue and a half each. We shall have some difficulty in dividing. Oh, dear! oh, dear! how hungry I am! I was far too excited to eat anything at supper-time.”

“So was I,” said Phyllis, coming up and pressing close to Annie. “I do think Miss Danesbury cuts the bread and butter too thick – don’t you, Annie? I could not eat mine at all, to-night, and Cecil Temple asked me if I was not well.”