by L. T. Meade
still kept hisback to her.
"Mind what _you're_ about yourself," said Robina. Whereupon the parrotanswered, "Ha, ha!" and the next minute began to "_miaow_" in the mostdistracted manner, as though he were an angry cat.
Robina, now in fits of mirth, stood and regarded him. She was soemployed when all the girls of the third form burst into the room. Theycame in in great excitement, each pair of eyes fixed upon Robina, andall the seven pairs of lips eager to say something to the girl who hadso strongly excited their curiosity.
"I am so glad to see you. How do you do?" said Frederica, who wasslightly the oldest girl in the form, and therefore the one to take thelead. "You are Robina, are you not?"
"Yes," said Robina. She spoke with extreme calm. "You must be verytired."
"I am not a bit tired," said Robina.
"Well, I am glad you are not. I am sorry we were not at home to welcomeyou. We have had a lovely picnic!"
"Bother picnics!" said Robina.
This was a little disconcerting. Harriet Lane began to laugh. Theparrot said instantly "Mind what you're about! Ha, ha!" and everyonelaughed now. The ice was broken: it was impossible to be formal afterPolly had declared himself. Robina found that she was surrounded by alot of eager, good-looking, pleasant girls. Each seemed more eager thanthe other to give her a hearty welcome. The soreness round her heartwas soothed for the time being. She sank down on a chair and lookedthem all over.
"You're not a bad lot for school-girls," she said; "but I don't know onefrom the other. Who is each? Please don't speak so fast--one at atime. You are Frederica? What a queer name! Now, who are you? Andwho are you? I will tell you very soon which of you I mean to befriends with. I always do what I like everywhere."
"Mind what you're about! Ha, ha!" said the parrot.
Book 1--CHAPTER THREE.
DEVELOPMENTS.
In a very few days Robina Starling was settled at school. She was ascompletely settled there as though she had lived at Abbeyfield all herlife. She was the sort of girl who quickly fitted herself into a newniche. She wasted no time in selecting her friends. She was not ascrap afraid. She looked calmly, not only at the girls in the thirdform, but at those superior beings--the sixth form girls. What shethought she always said. Those girls who admired her said that Robinawas very straightforward, that it would be impossible for her to tell alie, and that they admired her for this trait in her characterextremely. The girls who did not admire her, on the contrary, said thatshe was rude and ill-bred; but that fact--for she knew quite well thatthey said it--seemed rather to please Robina than otherwise.
She was quick, too, about her lessons. Although she knew nothing in theschool way of knowing things, she had in reality a mass of variedinformation in her little head. She had a startling way of announcingher knowledge in and out of school. Miss Sparke used to find herselfsometimes put quite in the wrong by this extraordinary pupil.
"No, Miss Sparke," Robina said very calmly one morning during class,when she had been a week in the school, "that was the old-fashionedview, but if you look in the latest volumes on the subject, you will seefor yourself that things are changed now. Shall I look for you, MissSparke, or will you do it yourself? It is a pity that you should teachthe wrong thing, isn't it?"
Miss Sparke said, "Hold your tongue, Robina; you are not to correct mein school."
But she had coloured high when her naughty pupil spoke; and Robina, whodid not colour at all, nor show the slightest triumph, but who sat downagain in her seat with the utmost calm, made a deep impression on herschool-fellows. She, with several of the girls, examined the latestauthorities that afternoon, and as Robina was proved absolutely correct,and Miss Sparke wrong, the poor teacher took a lower place in herpupils' estimation from that moment.
"You see," said Robina, "although I am young in years, I have alwaysread grown-up sort of things. Father's frightfully clever, and so isMother, and as there are no other children at home, I just read what Ilike. Besides that, I hear Father talking with other learned men.Father's a great scientist, and he knows. Poor Sparkie is very well,but she is no scientist, and she doesn't know."
"What is a scientist?" asked Frederica.
"Oh, Frederica!" said Harriet; "why surely you know that. A scientistis--" but then she coloured, for Robina had fixed her bright eyes on herface.
"Well," said Robina calmly, "you will explain to Frederica what ascientist is, won't you, Harriet?"
"A person who knows science, I suppose," answered Harriet, blurting outthe words, and then dashing out of the room in a fury.
A laugh followed her to the door. She felt that she hated Robina. Shehad never really liked her from the very first; and now, with a chokingsensation in her throat, she went out into the playground.
The first person she saw was Jane. Now Jane in her heart of heartsgreatly admired the new pupil. The fact that she was really naughty athome had, it is sad to relate, but added to Jane's liking for her.Harriet, it is true, was Jane's own special friend, but Harriet was notnearly so amusing or so daring as the new pupil. Harriet now called hercompanion to her in an imperious voice.
"Come here, this minute, you silly!" she said. "Why do you stand therewith your mouth gaping and your legs far apart? You look for all theworld like one of those foolish sheep on the back lawn."
"I am not a sheep; you needn't say it," answered Jane.
She had reached Harriet's side by this time.
"Well, come for a walk with me in the paddock," said Harriet. "I don'twant to be cross to you, Jane, but really that new girl, Robina--she ispast bearing."
"Oh, I like her so much," said Jane.
"You do?" answered Harriet. "You mean to tell me, you horrid thing,that you would give me up for her?"
"Oh! no, no, Harry, of course not. I like you best, of course. You aremy real, oldest friend. But I suppose a girl may have two friends, andI do like her. The thing that makes me so sad is this: she won't be myfriend; she snubs me like anything."
"There's one comfort," said Harriet; "she'll soon snub herself out ofthe school if she isn't careful. Think of her correcting Sparkie thismorning! I never heard of such cheek in the whole course of my life."
Jane began to laugh. "It was very clever of her," she said.
"It was very impertinent of her," said Harriet.
"But she was right," said Jane, "and Sparkie was wrong."
"I have no doubt she was wrong herself," said Harriet, "although," sheadded, "she did prove her point in that horrid encyclopaedia."
The little girls had now reached the paddock. Here was delicious shadeand green grass, and the heat of the July sun was tempered by a lovelybreeze. Harriet, whose cheeks were hot with annoyance, began to cooldown. Jane watched her with eager eyes.
"Harriet," said Jane; "you don't think for a minute that I love anyoneas much as you?"
"I hope you don't, Janie," said Harriet; "it would be awfully unkind ofyou. But now listen to me. We must do something to stop this."
"To stop what?" asked Jane.
"That young 'un taking the lead in everything. It is too ridiculous.She hasn't been more than a week in the school, and yet everythingyields to her. She struts about with her head in the air and even talksto the girls of the sixth form, and isn't a bit afraid of Sparkie oreven of Devigny. The next thing we'll find if this goes on is that MrsBurton herself is corrected by her. I wish, I do wish, I wish beyond_anything_, I could get her proved in the wrong herself."
"Oh, Harriet!" exclaimed Jane.
"Yes, I do," said Harriet; "I don't pretend otherwise; she has takeneverything from me."
"Oh, what _do_ you mean?" said Jane.
"I had not much," continued Harriet; "but yet I had one thing. I was atthe head of my form; I was certain of the best prizes; I was consideredthe clever one. I was not vain of it, but I was glad. Now, I am theclever one no longer. She is at the head of the form. Although she hasbeen such a short time in the school, she wil
l get a prize at break-up;I know she will. It isn't that she has ever been taught in the schoolway, but she knows such a lot. Oh, I do hate her, Janie! I wish--Iwish she had not come!"
"Poor Harriet!" said Jane.
She felt immensely pleased herself at this confidence reposed in her.Hitherto Harriet, with her pale face, her lank hair, her tall youngfigure, had been very condescending to black-eyed, roly-poly Jane. Shehad kept Jane under, and had only condescended to listen to her now andthen. It was delicious to be confided in; to