by Betsy Haynes
Christie had to smile at the thought of three-year-old Jenny, who lived across the courtyard. Jenny's parents were stuffy perfectionists, and Jenny was totally opposite. The little girl was constantly getting into things she shouldn't, and her room was always a terrible mess. No matter how hard Mrs. Fitzhugh tried, she could not get Jenny to be the little lady she wanted her to be. Christie thought Mrs. Fitzhugh should just let Jenny be Jenny.
And then there was Mrs. Mansfield, whom Christie had met while the older woman was tending her flowers by her back steps in the courtyard. Her brown tabby cat, Agatha, always ran to see Christie when she went out back. Christie liked visiting Mrs. Mansfield. Her flat was warm and cozy, and filled with old furniture, afghans, and wonderful smells. Mrs. Mansfield always offered Christie something sweet when she visited her. The older lady reminded her of her grandmother in Seneca Falls, New York.
Christie couldn't imagine never having known either Jenny or Mrs. Mansfield. She had to agree with her mother, they were two of the good things about living in London.
Later, as she was finishing her homework, Christie heard the telephone ring. "Telephone, Christie!" her mother called up the stairs.
Christie picked it up in her parents' study.
"This is Connie, Christie."
"Oh, hi!" Christie liked talking to Connie Farrell. He was always cheerful, and even though he was the umpteenth cousin of the queen of England, he wasn't the least bit snobbish.
Connie's real name was Conrad. He was good-looking, with soft blond hair and clear blue eyes. He had asked Christie for a date twice, but she had refused, mostly because Nicki had a crush on him. Since then Nicki had lost interest in Connie and started dating Davey Hopper, but Christie still didn't know if she should date Connie because of the way she felt about Chase.
"Did your chums tell you I was going to ring you up and ask you to my riding party?" Connie asked.
"They said if your mum would let you have one, you would," she answered.
"Actually I knew all along she would," he said, chuckling. "She's an all-right mum. Can you come? There's someone I want you to meet."
"Oh, who?"
"You'll have to come to find out," he teased.
"That's not fair, Connie," Christie protested. She heard him laugh.
"Maybe not, but you still have to come."
"I would have said I'd come, anyway," she said, laughing. "So you can go ahead and tell me."
"No, I can't."
"Connie!" she protested. "Why?"
"You'll see. Everyone is supposed to be at our place near Hoddesdon at ten a.m. on Saturday. Do you need a ride?"
"My dad will be back tomorrow. He can take me. But you'll have to tell me how to get there."
After they hung up, Christie went back to her room and started getting ready for bed. She had spent twice as much time as usual on her science homework. She knew she had the lesson down pat.
"The riding party sounds like fun," she told her soapy-faced reflection in the bathroom mirror. She would have to look at her clothes to see what she had to wear.
Who in the world could Connie want me to meet? Christie wondered. She had met his mother and his father, so it couldn't be them. He had a brother named Charles who was going to Cambridge University, and a sister, Emily, who worked for a fashion magazine. But if it was either of them, why would Connie be so mysterious? Maybe he was going to introduce her to someone who was royalty. A duke or duchess, maybe. Wow, wouldn't that be something!
Back in her room Christie took the five stuffed bears from her bed and arranged them in the chair next to it. Looking at them lined up that way reminded her of The Fabulous Five.
Beth had given her the crazy bear dressed in wild, fluorescent colors and sunglasses. The reddish-brown bear in the dress with hearts on it was given to her by Melanie, who was always falling in love. Katie, who wanted to be a judge or lawyer, had given her the one with the white wig and judge's gavel in its paw, and the dark brown bear wearing a hat with a sign that said Reporter on it was a gift from Jana. Each bear fit the personality of the giver perfectly.
Christie said good-night to the bears and crawled into bed. Snuggling deep into the soft, downy mattress, she reached under her pillow for Chase's letter. A smile crossed her face as she placed her hand over it and closed her eyes.
CHAPTER 4
"Connie called last night and asked me to his riding party," announced Christie when Phoebe and Nicki took their regular seats on the bus next to her the next morning. "He also said there's someone he wants me to meet, but he wouldn't tell me who it was."
"Maybe it's the queen," said Nicki.
"Don't be daft, Nicki," said Phoebe.
"Well, you never know, with his family connections," insisted Nicki. "That's why I decided I'd let Christie have him. I figured sooner or later I'd insult one of his royal friends and create an incident. Davey Hopper's more my type."
"The way the two of you argue, I'm not sure Davey agrees with you," commented Phoebe.
"He will," replied Nicki. "He just needs a bit more training."
Christie laughed at her two friends.
"How are you getting to Connie's on Saturday, Christie?" asked Phoebe. "Your dad's out of town, isn't he?"
"He's coming home this evening. He'll take me."
"Will he take you in the big company limo?" asked Nicki. "That'll impress Connie's parents."
"We've got a car of our own," answered Christie. "It's just that my father didn't want to park it at the airport." Then a thought occurred to her. "Why don't we pick you guys up in the morning? We'll stop by for Eleanore, too."
"Grand," said Phoebe. "That way you can see where we live."
Later, while Christie's homeroom teacher, Miss Woolsey, was taking attendance, Christie pulled out her science book to review her lesson. She was going to live up to her vow to make an A in science if it was the last thing she did. The chapter for today's lesson was on optics and how people see things. They had studied optics at Wakeman Junior High, and Mr. Dracovitch had made it really interesting. He had made everything interesting, even if he was a little strange. Christie would have liked to have had him as her science teacher forever.
When he had found out that Christie was moving to England, he had changed what he was teaching to include things about England. They had studied how the island of Great Britain had once been part of the continent of Europe. He showed them how it had broken off when the Earth's crust had shifted. They also learned about how primitive people had built villages on low gravel hills on the Thames River thousands of years ago. The location was ideal, and later their settlement became the city of London.
"Let me have your attention, ladies," said Miss Woolsey, drawing Christie back to the present. "Here are the morning announcements." She read through a list of the usual things, such as what the dining room was serving for lunch.
"One final thing. Our annual school science competition will be held on Saturday the twelfth. The winners in each age category—eleven to thirteen, and fourteen to sixteen—will proceed to the Bloomsbury District competition. The winners there will go to the all-London competition." She paused, as if to let the full meaning of what she had said soak in. "Students making it that far can expect to attract the attention of several universities. Your science teacher will give you more information about it.
"I've had several students do quite well in the competition. As a matter of principle I expect all of my students to enter and give it their best effort." She said the last part slowly as she peered over the top of her glasses. Christie doubted that any of her students, who called Miss Woolsey Old Laser Eyes, would dare to disappoint her.
Christie was actually excited about the competition. It could help her get into Oxford University. She wrote the date in her notebook. She'd have to start looking for a project right away.
"Take a sheet of clean paper," Miss Finney ordered when everyone was seated. A moan rippled through the class, and girls looked at each other in
dismay. It was a surprise quiz.
Becca looked panic-stricken. "I didn't have a chance to study the lesson last night," she whispered miserably. Christie gave her a look of sympathy.
Miss Finney rapped on her desk with a pointer. "Silence." Then she started passing out the test.
Christie took her time and answered each question as carefully as she could. The quiz wasn't terribly hard, and she got through it quickly. Then she went back over it just to be sure she hadn't made any mistakes.
After Miss Finney had collected the papers and gone over the chapter on optics, she brought up the science competition. Christie listened carefully and took notes.
"It will be up to you to devise your own experiment," said Miss Finney. "The more distinctive your project is, the better chance it will have of winning, so I advise you to give it a great deal of thought. I, of course, will be one of the judges. Mrs. Tillington, our headmistress, and Miss Woolsey will also judge. Are there any questions?"
Sarah Pike raised her hand. "I'm sure you've got some great ideas, Miss Finney. Do you have any suggestions?"
Miss Finney smiled at her. "The more ingenious it is, the better. For example, we've been studying optics today. Can any of you think of a way of demonstrating something about how we see?"
The kids looked at each other. Some shook their heads, others shrugged.
Suddenly an idea popped into Christie's head. "I know an experiment, Miss Finney, and it's fun. It's something my science teacher in the States showed us."
The corners of the teacher's mouth curved in a little smile. "If you were taught it in America, then I'm sure it must be quite extraordinary. Would you care to tell us about it, Miss Winchell?"
"Yes, ma'am," Christie replied eagerly. "Have you ever looked through a hole in your hand?"
"Not really," said Miss Finney, with a perplexed look on her face. "I don't usually hurt myself intentionally."
Christie laughed. "It's easy and it doesn't hurt at all." The whole class focused its attention on her.
"What you do is, take a sheet of paper and roll it into a tube." She took a piece of paper from her notebook as she was talking and rolled it up. Standing so the others could see what she was doing, she said, "Then you look through it with one eye."
Several girls took out paper and followed her instructions.
"Then you take the other hand," Christie continued, "and place it in front of the other eye right next to the tube. Make sure you keep both eyes open, then move your hand closer or farther away until you can see a hole in it that you can see right through."
"Wow! Neat!" exclaimed one of the girls. "There is a hole in my hand."
"It's about the size of a pound coin," said another girl.
A murmur of excitement went through the room as all the students tried it.
"How does that happen?" asked Denise.
"Your brain tells you what both your eyes are seeing," explained Christie. "One eye sees your hand, and the other sees the hole in the paper. Your brain puts what they both see together and fools you," she said proudly. "It shows how your brain works with your eyes."
"Amusing, Miss Winchell," said Miss Finney, "for a simple parlor trick. I hope you aren't confusing that small bit of trickery with true scientific demonstration." She frowned. "It may be the kind of frivolous thing you did in school in the States, but when you get to know us better, you'll find that we're more serious about our science here.
"Now, class," she went on, turning away as if to dismiss Christie, "if you'll put your little playthings away, I'll give you your assignment for tomorrow."
Christie turned red and sank back into her seat. Her chin trembled as she wrote down the assignment. Mr. Dracovitch had said the tube trick was an excellent demonstration of how the eyes and brain worked together. Why had Miss Finney called it a parlor trick? Wasn't there anything Christie could do that was right in Miss Finney's class? Why was the teacher treating her this way?
CHAPTER 5
Christie took the plate of roast beef and Yorkshire pudding that the server offered her. It smelled delicious. The only problem was that Christie was so depressed, she wasn't sure she could eat it.
In the dining room at St. Margaret's, the youngest girls sat at one end of the room, and the oldest girls at the other. Girls entered St. Meg's when they were five and went until they were eighteen. A teacher sat at the head of each table to keep order. Christie made her way toward the table in the middle of the room, where her class was seated.
As usual Nicki had everyone's attention. "I thought I'd get a bike helmet instead of a hunt cap. It would probably protect my noggin just as well, and a jazzy-looking helmet with red stripes on it would add a little zing to Connie's horseback-riding party. Might shake up the old aristocracy a bit, too."
Laughter rippled along the dining table.
Christie even thought she saw a twinkle in Miss Woolsey's eye.
"Why the sad puss?" Phoebe asked Christie.
Christie hadn't realized her feelings were showing. "Oh . . . no reason." She tried to smile.
"She's probably having second thoughts about getting on a horse," said Nicki. "Maybe she's never ridden one."
Christie shook her head. "No. That's not it. There are horses near where my grandmother lives in Seneca Falls, New York. I used to ride when we went to visit her."
"I thought that was a pretty neat trick you showed us in Miss Finney's class, Christie," volunteered Becca. "I don't think the old . . ." She stopped and looked at Miss Woolsey. "I don't think Miss Finney should have said what she did."
"What did you do, Christie?" asked Eleanore.
"She showed us how to look through a hole in our hands," Becca replied.
"What?" asked another girl. Becca had gotten Miss Woolsey's attention, too.
"I'll show you." Becca pulled a notepad out of the book bag at her feet. Soon all the girls had asked for paper from Becca and were trying the experiment.
Miss Woolsey watched for a moment before she cleared her throat and said disapprovingly, "Girls, please. The dining room is not a place where experiments are conducted, no matter how interesting they may be. Please behave as proper ladies."
The girls reluctantly put their tubes of paper away.
"What'd Miss Finney say?" Phoebe whispered to Christie.
Christie shrugged. "She didn't think it was a very good experiment."
"She called it a parlor trick, is what she did," said Becca. "But the whole class thought it was great."
Christie gave Becca a smile of appreciation.
"Should I really get a riding cap and boots, and all those things?" Christie asked Phoebe and Nicki as they boarded the double-decker for home.
"Not really," said Phoebe. "Nicki was only having fun. There are all sorts of riding caps you can borrow at the Farrells'. And a pair of shoes and your best jeans are fine."
"Aw, why did you have to tell her?" asked Nicki. "I wanted to see how Christie would get herself up."
The next morning Mr. Winchell turned off Motorway A10 at the Hoddesdon exit. He followed the girls' directions through the little town and out into the country on the other side.
Soon they were winding their way between stone-fenced fields with herds of grazing sheep and thatched-roof houses. At one point they crossed a small river, and Christie saw ducks floating on its surface.
"This is beautiful," Christie said to the girls in the backseat.
"Wait until you see Farrell Manor," Eleanore told her.
A couple of turns later they drove through a gate and up a long drive, leading to one of the largest brick houses Christie had ever seen.
"My gosh," she gasped. There were long rows of windows on both the first and the second floors. The wings at both ends of the house were capped by chimneys. The grounds were dotted with brightly colored flowers, and tall, graceful trees lined the circular drive in front of the house.
"We told you it was something," said Nicki.
"Wait till you see the barns
and gardens out back," Eleanore said. She opened the door and all three girls thanked Mr. Winchell.
"I'll be back around three to pick you up," he replied. "Have fun."
"Thanks, Dad," Christie called as she hurried after the others.
"Mind your manners now, McAfee," warned Phoebe as they approached the door.
Nicki grinned and smiled innocently. "Who, me? I always mind my manners."
Phoebe reached up and hammered the door with its knocker. A butler opened it and let them into a large foyer.
"Hi," said Connie as he came to meet them. He was wearing riding boots and breeches. Davey Hopper and Charlie Fenwick were right behind him.
Davey was tall and thin with light brown hair. Christie thought he looked like a younger version of Sting. Charlie was shorter, darker, and more muscular. His black hair had a short rattail that hung over his collar.
"Did you birds get lost?" Charlie asked.
"No, love," answered Nicki. "If you could tell time, you'd know we're right on the blooming dot."
"Let's go out to the stable," said Connie, laughing. He led them through the house.
Christie stopped and sucked in her breath when she saw the beautiful formal garden behind the house. Rows of green hedges were shaped into neat squares and rectangles. Inside the squares and rectangles were rosebushes with flowers of every color. Gravel paths led through hedges, and statues stood at some of the intersections.
Beyond the garden was a long, two-story brick building. It was the stable. A young man was holding several horses that had been saddled in the yard. Christie counted them. There were only six horses, and there were going to be seven riders. Off to the side was a corral with a mare and her colt.
Christie hurried to catch up with Connie. "Will you tell me now who it is you want me to meet?"
"You'll see," he said, grinning.
"You know where the tack is," Connie said to the rest of the group. "Why don't you outfit yourselves while I introduce Christie to someone."