A World of Girls: The Story of a School

Mrs Willis looked down the long room – her voice had reached every corner, and the quiet, dignified, and deeply-pained expression in her fine eyes was plainly visible to each girl in the school. Even the little ones were startled and subdued by the tone of Mrs Willis’s voice, and one or two of them suddenly burst into tears. Mrs Willis paused for a full moment, then she repeated her question.

“I insist upon knowing the exact truth, my dear children,” she said gently but with great decision.

“My desk has also been tampered with,” said Miss Temple in a low voice.

Every one started when Cecil spoke, and even Annie Forest glanced at her with a half-frightened and curious expression. Cecil’s voice indeed was so low, so shaken with doubt and pain, that her companions scarcely recognised it.

“Come here, Miss Temple,” said Mrs Willis.

Cecil instantly left her desk and walked up the room.

“Your desk has also been tampered with, you say?” repeated the head-mistress.

“Yes, madam.”

“When did you discover this?”

“To-day, Mrs Willis.”

“You kept it to yourself?”

“Yes.”

“Will you now repeat in the presence of the school, and in a loud enough voice to be heard by all here, exactly what was done?”

“Pardon me,” answered Cecil, and now her voice was a little less agitated and broken, and she looked full into the face of her teacher, “I cannot do that.”

“You deliberately disobey me, Cecil?” said Mrs Willis.

“Yes, madam.”

Mrs Willis’s face flushed – she did not, however, look angry – she laid her hand on Cecil’s shoulder and looked full into her eyes.

“You are one of my best pupils, Cecil,” she said tenderly. “At such a moment as this honour requires you to stand by your mistress. I must insist on your telling me here and now exactly what has occurred.”

Cecil’s face grew whiter and whiter.

“I cannot tell you,” she murmured; “it breaks my heart, but I cannot tell you.”

“You have defied me, Cecil,” said Mrs Willis in a tone of deep pain. “I must, my dear, insist on your obedience, but not now. Miss Good, will you take Miss Temple to the chapel? I will come to you, Cecil, in an hour’s time.”

Cecil walked down the room crying silently. Her deep distress and her very firm refusal to disclose what she knew had made a great impression on her school-fellows. They all felt troubled and uneasy, and Annie Forest’s face was very pale.

“This thing, this wicked, mischievous thing has gone deeper than I feared,” said Mrs Willis, when Cecil had left the room.

“Only some very strong motive would make Cecil Temple behave as she is now doing. She is influenced by a mistaken idea of what is right; she wishes to shield the guilty person. I may as well tell you all, young ladies, that, dear as Cecil is to me, she is now under the ban of my severe displeasure. Until she confesses the truth and humbles herself before me, I cannot be reconciled to her. I cannot permit her to associate with you. She has done very wrong, and her punishment must be proportionately severe. There is one chance for her, however. Will the girl whom she is mistakenly, though generously, trying to shield, come forward and confess her guilt, and so release poor Cecil from the terrible position in which she has placed herself? By doing so, the girl who has caused all this misery will at least show me that she is trying to repent.”

Mrs Willis paused again, and now she looked down the room with a face of almost entreaty. Several pairs of eyes were fixed anxiously on her, several looked away, and many girls glanced in the direction of Annie Forest, who, feeling herself suspected, returned their glances with bold defiance, and instantly assumed her most reckless manner.

Mrs Willis waited for a full minute.

“The culprit is not noble enough,” she said then. “Now, girls, I must ask each of you to come up one by one and deny or confess this charge. As you do so, you are silently to leave the school-room and go up to your rooms, and prepare for the walk which has been so painfully delayed. Miss Conway, you are at the head of the school, will you set the example?”

One by one the girls of the head class stepped up to their teacher, and of each one she asked the same question —

“Are you guilty?”

Each girl replied in the negative and walked out of the school-room. The second-class followed the example of the first, and then the third-class came up to their teacher. Several ears were strained to hear Annie Forest’s answer, but her eyes were lifted fearlessly to Mrs Willis’s face, and her “No!” was heard all over the room.

Chapter Twelve

In The Chapel

The bright light from a full noontide sun was shining in coloured bars through the richly-painted windows of the little chapel when Mrs Willis sought Cecil Temple there.

Cecil’s face was in many ways a remarkable one. Her soft brown eyes were generally filled with a steadfast and kindly ray. Gentleness was her special prerogative, but there was nothing weak about her – hers was the gentleness of a strong and pure and noble soul. To know Cecil was to love her. She was a motherless girl, and the only child of a most indulgent father. Colonel Temple was now in India, and Cecil was to finish her education under Mrs Willis’s care, and then, if necessary, to join her father.

Mrs Willis had always taken a special interest in this girl. She admired her for her great moral worth. Cecil was not particularly clever, but she was so studious, so painstaking, that she always kept a high place in class. She was without doubt a religious girl, but there was nothing of the prig about her. She was not, however, ashamed of her religion, and, if the fitting occasion arose, she was fearless in expressing her opinion.

Mrs Willis used to call Cecil her “little standard-bearer,” and she relied greatly on her influence over the third-class girls. Mrs Willis considered the third-class, perhaps, the most important in the school. She was often heard to say —

“The girls who fill this class have come to a turning-point – they have come to the age when resolves may be made for life, and kept. The good third-class girl is very unlikely to degenerate as she passes through the second and first classes. On the other hand, there is very little hope that the idle or mischievous third-class girl will mend her ways as she goes higher in the school.”

Mrs Willis’s steps were very slow, and her thoughts extremely painful, as she entered the chapel to-day. Had any one else offered her defiance she would have known how to deal with the culprit, but Cecil would never have acted as she did without the strongest motive, and Mrs Willis felt more sorrowful than angry as she sat down by the side of her favourite pupil.

“I have kept you waiting longer than I intended, my dear,” she said. “I was unexpectedly interrupted, and I am sorry; but you have had more time to think, Cecil.”

“Yes, I have thought,” answered Cecil, in a very low tone.

“And, perhaps,” continued her governess, “in this quiet and beautiful and sacred place, my dear pupil has also prayed?”

“I have prayed,” said Cecil.

“Then you have been guided, Cecil,” said Mrs Willis in a tone of relief. “We do not come to God in our distress without being shown the right way. Your doubts have been removed, Cecil; you can now speak fully to me; can you not, dear?”

“I have asked God to tell me what is right,” said Cecil. “I don’t pretend to know. I am very much puzzled. It seems to me that more good would be done if I concealed what you asked me to confess in the school-room. My own feeling is that I ought not to tell you. I know this is great disobedience, and I am quite willing to receive any punishment you think right to give me. Yes, I think I am quite willing to receive any punishment.”

Mrs Willis put her hand on Cecil’s shoulder.

“Ordinary punishments are not likely to affect you, Cecil,” she said; “on you I have no idea of inflicting extra lessons, or depriving you of half-holidays, or even taking away your drawing-room. But there is something else you must lose, and that I know will touch you deeply – I must remove from you my confidence.”

Cecil’s face grew very pale.

“And your love, too?” she said, looking up with imploring eyes: “oh, surely not your love as well?”

“I ask you frankly, Cecil,” replied Mrs Willis, “can perfect love exist without perfect confidence? I would not willingly deprive you of my love, but of necessity the love I have hitherto felt for you must be altered – in short, the old love which enabled me to rest on you and trust you, will cease.”

Cecil covered her face with her hands.