The Head Girl at the Gables

by Angela Brazil

  CHAPTER II

  The First Day of Term

  It was an old-established custom at The Gables that the autumn termshould begin on a Tuesday afternoon. There were no lessons: the girlssimply gathered together in the gymnasium to listen to a short addressfrom Miss Kingsley, to be told in what forms they were placed for thecoming school year, and to be given new text-books, with passages toprepare for the morrow, when serious work would begin at nine o'clock,and the wheels of school life would start to turn in real earnest. Thisfirst afternoon was regarded by most as somewhat in the nature of afestival. It was pleasant to meet again and compare notes about theholidays: the general change of forms lent an element of excitement,even the new books were more or less interesting, and many minor detailsgave variety to the occasion.

  The gymnasium, whither all the girls were scuttling, was amoderate-sized wooden building that had been erected, in pre-war days,at the side of the house. It served for many purposes, and wasalternately drill-hall, concert-room, play-room, lecture-hall, artgallery or ball-room as the case might be. This afternoon, with a freshcoat of pink distemper, a big bowl of flowers upon the table, and thesunshine coming through the skylight roof and shining on thenicely-polished floor and rows of varnished forms, it looked bothbusiness-like and attractive. The girls trooped in and took their seats.There were a few elder ones, but the majority were between eight andfourteen, with perhaps half a dozen kindergarten children on the frontbench. Miss Turner, standing near the piano, controlled any excess ofconversation, and reduced it to a subdued murmur. As Miss Kingsley,brisk, smiling, and with a "Now we'll get to work!" air about her,mounted the platform and stood to review her school, forty-two pupilsrose to their feet, and eighty-four eyes were fixed obediently upon herface. She focused their attention for a moment, then nodding to MissPaget, who was seated at the piano, she announced:

  "We will begin the new term as usual by singing the National Anthem."

  Miss Paget struck a few chords, and then the familiar strains of "GodSave the King" rang through the room. It made a good commencement, fornew girls and even the kindergarten babies could sing it, and thus taketheir part at once with the school. Forty-two voices, some fresh andclear, and some more or less out of tune, joined heartily in the anthem,and the girls sat down with the consciousness of having made a unitedeffort. Following her precedent of twelve years, Miss Kingsley hadsomething to say to her pupils before she made the ordinaryannouncements of school arrangements.

  "It's always nice to feel we're making a fresh start!" she begancheerfully. "This is a new school year, and I want you all to join inhelping to make it the best we've ever had. If there are any girls herewho haven't done well before, now is the time for them to turn over anew leaf and show us that they can work. At this crisis in the world'saffairs we don't want to bring up 'slackers'. Your fathers, uncles,brothers, cousins have answered their country's call and gone to defendBritain's honour, and you have been proud to see them go. The women ofthe Empire have played their part as nobly as the men, and it is thesebrave and splendid women whom you must try to imitate. Do you think theywould have been able to give the help they have given to their countryunless they had prepared their characters for it beforehand? I'm surenot. It's in the classroom that we train ourselves for what we may doafterwards. Every girl who tries her best in the little world of schoolis learning her part for the big world afterwards. We hope it is goingto be a beautiful world when the war is over, but it can only be so ifwe remember the sacrifices that have been made, and determine to beworthy of those who gave up everything for us. 'A nation never riseshigher than its women.' So you, who are going to be some of its women,must see to it that you raise and not lower the standard. It's a happy,hopeful thought to feel that you're helping to push the world on; andhow splendid if we can think that The Gables is a centre from which realhelpfulness may radiate! Let us all join in trying to make it so. I'mgoing to tell you now about some things we shall be busy with this term,and I hope you will throw all your energies into them, and try yourutmost to make them a success."

  Miss Kingsley passed in rapid review the general scheme of work for theterm for both seniors and juniors. It was a full programme, and includeda wide range of subjects, from lectures on Greek antiquities to Swedishdrill and rhythmic dancing. She was modern in her methods, and wished tocultivate every side of a child's nature till she was old enough tochoose her own speciality. Lists of the various forms followed, and thenMiss Kingsley turned to what, in the estimation of some of the girls atleast, was the most important announcement of the afternoon.

  "All members of the Sixth are appointed monitresses, and LorraineForrester is head of the school."

  A wave of excitement surged instantly through the room. Lorraine! Theyhad not in the least expected her to be chosen. So far she had seemed arather retiring sort of girl who had not taken a very active part inschool affairs. Last term, when war waged hot and strong between LottieCarson and Helen Stanley, two of the monitresses, Lorraine had committedherself to neither party, though her form was divided to such an extentof partisanship that Dorothy Skipton and Vivien Forrester nearly had afight one day on the landing. Lorraine! The matter required thought. Theschool was so surprised that it could not decide how to take theannouncement, and it was with a look of uncertainty on their faces thatthe girls, dismissed at last by Miss Kingsley, filed into theirclassrooms to receive their new books and be told their preparation fornext day. This necessary business finished, they were free to don hatsand coats and go home. In the cloak-room the pent-up conversationbubbled over.

  "Well, what d'you think of it?" exploded Dorothy.

  Patsie, sitting on the boot-rack, pulling on her shoes, made a roundmouth and whistled.

  "It's generally the unexpected that happens," she moralized. "Lorraine'sa lucker! Cheer up, old Dollie! Don't look so glum! Bother! I've brokenmy shoe-lace. What a grizzly nuisance! Lorraine's not such a bad sort,after all!"

  "I don't say she is--but to be head of the school!"

  "Better than Vivien, anyway!" grunted Patsie, busy knotting her brokenshoe-lace.

  "I agree with you there--_she'd_ have turned the place upside down. Hereshe comes, in a tantrum by the look of her."

  Vivien, judging by the way she slammed down her new books, was certainlynot pleased with the turn affairs had taken. Though she and Dorothy weregenerally on terms of flint and steel, she sought her now to air whatshe considered a common grievance.

  "I couldn't have believed it of Miss Kingsley!" she began. "WhyLorraine, of all people in the world? She's two months younger than Iam, and her marks weren't as good as yours in the exam, if it hadn'tbeen for that absurd essay that counted extra. How she's ever going tomanage to run the societies, I can't imagine! I'm sorry for the school!"

  Dorothy was adjusting her attractive hat in front of the mirror. She putin the pins carefully before replying.

  "It's a rotten business!" she sighed.

  "Disgusting! To have Lorraine set over us, while you and I are justordinary common monitresses, the same as Audrey Roberts or NellieAppleby. I'm fed up with it! It's going to be a hateful term; I shan'ttake an interest in anything! I wish I'd asked Father to send me to aboarding-school. I'm sick of The Gables!"

  Patsie, whose shoe-lace was now triumphantly mended, chuckled softly.

  "Poor old Gables!" she remarked. "I don't know that you'd find a 'betterhole' so easily. It's a very decent kind of school. _I_ intend to havesome fun here this term, if _you_ don't. When's that rhythmic dancingthat Kingie talked about going to begin? I saw some in London, and I'mjust wild to do it. This is how it goes!"

  And Patsie, flinging out her arms and swaying from side to side, made aseries of most extraordinary gyrations. Vivien and Dorothy burst outlaughing.

  "If _that's_ what you call rhythmic dancing, give me the goodold-fashioned sort!" hinnied Vivien. "You look about as graceful as anelephant!"

  "And as jerky as a wound-up waxwork!" declared Dorothyuncomplimentarily.

/>   "Well, of course, the movements are done to music; they look quitedifferent when you've got a sort of classic Greek dress on, andsomebody's playing a study by Chaminade or Debussy."

  "It would need very good music indeed to make _those_ antics lookanything! I fancy you'll shine more at hockey, Patsie. I wonder what'sgoing to happen to the team. I can't fancy Lorraine taking LilyAnderson's place. It'll be a let-down all round this term withLorraine----"

  "Sh, 'sh! Here's Lorraine herself!"

  "Then I'm off! Come along, Dorothy!"

  Vivien rammed her hat on anyhow, seized her pile of new books, andbolted from the cloak-room almost as her cousin entered. Patsie,following more leisurely, stopped en route to give the new head girl ahearty smack on the back.

  "Cheero, Lorraine!" she remarked. "Just at the moment you look likeAtlas shouldering the heavens. Haven't you got over the shock of theannouncement yet? Did Kingie spring it on you all at once? Or had sheprepared you beforehand for your laurels?"

  "As a matter of fact, she sent for me yesterday and told me," smiledLorraine.

  "And I suppose, like Julius Caesar, you waved away the crown? Or was itOliver Cromwell, by the by? My history's always shaky!"

  "Well, I felt inclined to have a few dozen fits, certainly!"

  "I don't say it's exactly a cushy post, but you're a lucker all thesame! Old Dolly and the Duchess would have liked to butt in, I can tellyou. They're absolutely green, the pair of them!"

  Lorraine's face clouded.

  "I was afraid Vivien would be disappointed. She thought--and so didI--indeed everybody thought----"

  "Then they thought wrong, and a good thing too!" pronounced Patsie."Take my advice, Lorraine, and don't stand any nonsense with Vivien.Kingie's the right to make anybody head girl she wants, and I'm gladshe's chosen you. If the Duchess and old Dollie can't lose in a sportingway, they're blighters. You hold your own, and I'll back you up. You'llhave most of the school on your side. Ta-ta, and cheer up, old sport!"

  Patsie, jolly, good-natured and slangy, swung out of the cloak-roomwith what she called a "khaki stride". Lorraine looked after her andlaughed. No one took Patsie seriously, but it was pleasant to feel thatshe was an ally, even though she might not prove a very stout prop tolean upon. That she would need all available help in her new task,Lorraine was well aware. It would be difficult to follow in thefootsteps of so capable and energetic a head girl as Lily Anderson; theirrepressible intermediates were likely to prove a handful, and in theranks of the Sixth itself she foresaw trouble brewing. It was adecidedly thoughtful Lorraine who walked down the school garden, outthrough the gate, and along the cliff road that led to the westernportion of the town. She had reached the wall below the windmill whenMonica, her eleven-year old sister, came panting after her.

  "Lorraine! Do wait! Why did you go off without me? I hunted for youeverywhere, till Ida James told me you'd gone. What a blighter you areto leave me!"

  "Sorry, Cuckoo! But you see I thought _you'd_ gone, so there we are!"said Lorraine, smiling indulgently at the impetuous little figure thatovertook her and seized her arm. "I'd have waited if I'd known."

  "I forgive you!" accorded Monica graciously. "Only to-day of all days,of course I wanted to walk home with you. D'you know, Tibbiekins, I'mproud of you! Aren't you bucked? Well, you ought to be. I never got sucha surprise in my life as when 'Lorraine Forrester' was read out 'head ofthe school'! Betty Farmer pinched me so hard that I nearly yelled. But Isay, Tibbie, it's a stunt! Didn't you get nerve shock when you heardyour name?"

  "I knew yesterday what was coming," admitted Lorraine.

  "Was that why you went to see Miss Kingsley? And you never told me aword! Well, I think you are the limit!"

  "Miss Kingsley made me promise on my honour not to tell a single soul."

  "I couldn't have helped telling. Think of having that secret all theevening, and not giving me the least teeny weeny atom of a hint, even! Iwonder you could keep it in! The girls are pleased--most of them. Bettysays you're a sport, and Mabel King says she feels she's going toworship you, and Nora Hyland said I was a lucker to have you for asister. Of course a few of them had plumped for Vivien, and let offsteam, but they'll soon get over it. Vivien looked like a thunder cloud.She won't forgive you in a hurry! You may look out for squalls in herquarter. Hallo, here's Rosemary come to meet us. I must tell her thenews. She knows already? Why, you said it was a secret! Well, you aremean to have told Rosemary and not _me_! I'm not friends with you anymore, so there!"

  Lorraine answered her sweet-faced elder sister's look of enquiry with anod of comprehension.

  "Yes, it's all _un fait accompli_," she replied, "and on the whole Ithink the school has borne it beautifully. Come along, Cuckoo, don'tpout! Rosemary must have some secrets I can't tell to the family baby.Remember, you score in other ways. It's luck to be born youngest."

  The three girls turned in at a gate and walked up a flower-bordereddrive to a comfortable ivy-covered house. "Pendlehurst" was a modernhouse, and in Lorraine's opinion not at all romantic, but, with theexception of herself, the Forrester family was not particularly given toromance. Her father, in choosing a residence, had paid more attention todrains, number of bedrooms and hot-water facilities than to artisticbeauty or aesthetic associations. He was a practical man with a benttowards mathematics, and counted the cubic space necessary for therequirements of seven children to be the matter of most importance. Hehad an old-established practice as a solicitor in the town, and hadlived all his life at Porthkeverne. Of the large family of children onlythe three youngest remained at home. Richard and Donald were at thefront, in the thick of the fighting; Rodney was in training for the AirForce, while Rosemary, anxious also to flutter from the nest and try herwings in the world, was to go to London to study singing at a College ofMusic. Her term began a little later than Lorraine's, so the two girlshad still a few days left to spend together. They ran upstairs now totheir joint bedroom, where packing was in progress. A big box stoodunder the window with a bottom layer of harmony-books and music tightlyarranged. To Rosemary it meant the fulfilment of a long-cherished dream.As she looked at it, her imagination skipped three or four years andshowed her a golden vision of herself--in a pale pink satin dress with apearl necklace--standing on a concert platform and bowing repeatedly tothe storm of applause which had greeted her song.

  "I can't tell you how hard I'm going to work," she confided. "I shalljust practise and practise and practise. I know that wretched theorywill rather stump me, but I'll wrestle with it. There'll be such amusical atmosphere about the place, it can't help inspiring one."

  "The hostel will be fun, too," said Lorraine, going down on her knees toinspect the dainty afternoon tea service that was being rolled up forsafety in soft articles of clothing. "I can just picture you in yourroom, making a cup of cocoa before you go to bed."

  "And having in a few friends. It'll be the time of my life! I alwayswanted to go to boarding school, but this will be even better, becausein a way I shall be my own mistress. I never thought I'd work Dad roundto it. I've been in a sort of quiver ever since he said 'yes'. Who'sthere?" (as a loud series of rappings resounded on the door). "Oh, Ican't have you children in here just now! Go away!"

  "We _must_ come in!" urged Monica, following up her words by a forcibleentrance. "There! there! Don't get excited! You'll _welcome_ us when youknow what we've come for! Chips and I have brought you a present. Wethought you'd like to pack it now."

  Mervyn, otherwise "Chips", an overgrown boy of thirteen, was embracing alarge parcel, which he plumped on the floor and unfolded. It contained afretwork basket, stained brown and still rather sticky with varnish. Thecorners fitted indifferently, and the handle was slightly askew.

  "We've made it between us!" said Mervyn proudly. "It'll either do for awork-basket, or you could plant ferns in it and have it in your window."

  "You didn't guess the least little atom what we were doing, did you?"asked Monica anxiously.

  "Not a scrap!" said Rosemary
, gallantly accepting the embarrassingoffering with the enthusiasm it demanded. "You're dears to have made itfor me. I can keep all sorts of things in it: cocoa and condensed milk,and bits of string, and everything I'm likely to lose. Thanks ever so!Isn't it a little sticky to pack yet?"

  "Not _very_!" said Mervyn, applying a finger as practical demonstration:"I'm glad you like it. It's our first really big bit of work with thosefret saws. Now, Cuckoo, if you want to come, there'll be just time todevelop those films before tea."

  When the children had gone, Rosemary lifted up the rather crookedbasket, looked at it critically, and laughed.

  "I'm sure it was a labour of love," she commented. "Of course, I shallhave to take it with me, though it will be a nuisance to pack. Andthey're so proud of it! I hope my own first efforts at the College ofMusic won't be considered equally crude by the authorities!"

  "Or mine at The Gables! We're each starting on new lines this term.What heaps and loads we shall have to talk about at Christmas!"