A HARUM-SCARUM SCHOOLGIRL

[Illustration: "COULD YOU DO ME A KINDNESS, MISS?" SHE ASKED _Page 252_]

A HARUM-SCARUM SCHOOLGIRL

BY

ANGELA BRAZIL

_Illustrated by John Campbell_

NEW YORK FREDERICK A. STOKES COMPANY PUBLISHERS

_Copyright, 1920, by_

FREDERICK A. STOKES COMPANY

_All rights reserved_

Contents

 CHAP. Page

 I. A PIXIE GIRL 9

 II. STARS AND STRIPES 23

 III. A PENNILESS PRINCESS 39

 IV. THE RUSH-BEARING 51

 V. DIANA DARES 65

 VI. FRENCH LEAVE 77

 VII. LAND GIRLS 91

 VIII. ARMISTICE DAY 108

 IX. DIANA'S ENGLISH CHRISTMAS 128

 X. A FIT OF THE BLUES 141

 XI. DIANA TO THE RESCUE 153

 XII. DIANA BREAKS OUT 167

 XIII. CRUSOE ISLAND 178

 XIV. SPOOKS 195

 XV. JOY-RIDING 207

 XVI. A FAMILY CREST 219

 XVII. THE GREEN-EYED MONSTER 235

 XVIII. DIANA'S FOUNDLING 247

 XIX. AMBITIONS 259

 XX. A TANGLED PLOT 271

Illustrations

 Page

 "COULD YOU DO ME A KINDNESS, MISS?" SHE ASKED _Frontispiece_

 "O-O-O-OH! HOW GORGEOUS TO BELONG TO A HIGH-FALUTING FAMILY THAT'S GOT LEGENDS AND GHOSTS!" 48

 TWO PAIRS OF BARE FEET WENT SPLASHING JOYOUSLY INTO THE BROOK 72

 WE SET OFF AND RODE ALL THE MORNING 144

 ITS COWL FELL BACK, AND DISCLOSED A WELL-KNOWN AND DECIDEDLY MIRTHFUL COUNTENANCE 200

 DIANA CALLED AND SHOUTED TO THEM. THEY TOOK NO NOTICE 240

A HARUM-SCARUM SCHOOLGIRL

CHAPTER I

A Pixie Girl

"If I'd known!" groaned Winifred Cranston, otherwise Wendy, with a noteof utter tragedy in her usually cheerful voice. "If I'd only known!D'you think I'd have come trotting back here with my baggage? Not a bitof it! Nothing in this wide world should have dragged me. I'd haveturned up my hair--yes, it's _quite_ long enough to turn up, Jess Paget, so you needn't look at it so scornfully; it's as nice as yours, andnicer! Well, I tell you I'd have turned up my hair, and run away andjoined the 'Waacs' or the 'Wrens', or have driven a motor wagon orconducted a tramcar, or scrubbed floors at a hospital, or doneanything--_anything_, I say!--rather than stay at the Abbey without Mrs. Gifford. "

"It's pretty stiff, certainly, for the Head to go whisking away likethis, " agreed Magsie Wingfield, sitting on the other shaft of thewheelbarrow. "And without any notice either! It leaves one gasping!"

"Stiff? It's the limit! Why didn't she give us decent warning, insteadof springing it on to us in this sudden fashion? I feel weak!"

"There wasn't time, " explained Sadie Sanderson, who, with Violet Gortonand Tattie Clegg, occupied, in a tight fit, the interior of thewheelbarrow. "It was all done at a day's notice. Geraldine's beentelling me the whole history. "

"Well?"

"Mr. Gifford got suddenly exempted, and was made Governor of someoutlandish place with an unpronounceable name in Burma. He telegraphedto Mrs. Gifford to join him at Marseilles, and go out with him. So shewent--that's the long and the short of it!"

"Went and left her school behind her, " echoed Vi. 

"I call it simply running away, " commented Wendy. "Why couldn't she havestopped to arrange things--say till Christmas--and then followed him?"

"It's some tiresome red-tape business at the War Office. They'd give hera passport to travel out _with_ him, but not to join him afterwards, soshe thought she'd better take the opportunity and go out with him whileshe could. It must have been a terrific scramble for her to get off. Ibelieve she just bundled her things together and bolted, and left theschool to Miss Todd. "

"Will she ever come back?"

"I shouldn't think it's likely now. "

"Then we're left for evermore to the tender mercies of Toddlekins?"

"That's just about the size of it. Toddlekins has taken the whole thingover. "

"She's been longing and yearning to seize the reins and drive the coachever since she came, " commented Tattie. 

"Well, she's got her chance now. "

"And she'll use it, too! You bet there'll be changes!"

"Changes! There are changes already, although Mrs. Gifford can hardlyhave reached Marseilles yet. "

"It's going to be a queer term, " grunted Wendy. 

The five girls were sitting in a retired corner of the garden atPendlemere Abbey. On one side, above the tops of the rhododendronbushes, they could see the tall, twisted chimneys and flagged stone roofof the old house; on the other side, below the lawn and across thepaddock, gleamed the silver waters of the lake, with its banks of rushesand alders, and beyond lay a range of grey hills that seemed to meltaway into more distant peaks that merged into the mists on the horizon. It was a beautiful view, and on this hazy September afternoon, with thehidden sun sending long shafts of light from behind radiant masses ofcloud, it formed a prospect that should have afforded keen æstheticsatisfaction to anybody who cared to look at it. Usually the girlsappreciated its changeful glories, but to-day--this first day of a newterm--they were too much taken up with their own grievances to thinkabout scenery. In fact, they sat huddled together in the wheelbarrowwith their backs towards the view. 

It had certainly been a considerable shock to the girls to find, onarriving after the holidays, that their popular Principal had desertedthem in so sudden a fashion. It was not indeed the first surprise whichshe had given them. Two years before she had been Miss Housman, with apurely educational outlook in life, and a horizon bounded by her school;but Cupid, who plays strange pranks even with head mistresses, broughther fate along in the shape of a major from the temporary camp by thelake, and shot his arrows with such deadly aim that the whole romanticbusiness--courtship, engagement, and war wedding--took place in thecourse of a few weeks, almost under the very noses of her interestedpupils. They had gone home for their Easter holidays much thrilled abouther engagement ring, and had returned to school to find her a war bride, with her husband already in the trenches. When the excitement ofchoosing her a wedding present was over, matters seemed to settle downpretty much as before. Except in an increased anxiety for news from thefront, Mrs. Gifford had differed in no degree from Miss Housman. To theschool the Major was a mere abstraction; his leave had always occurredduring the holidays, and up to this time his existence--apart from theelement of romance with which it invested their head mistress--had notaffected the atmosphere of Pendlemere in the least. It had occasionallyoccurred to some of the girls to question what would happen when the warwas over, but they generally ended by deciding: "He'll have to come andlive here, I suppose, and turn the junior room into a smoke-room". Someof the more imaginative had even ventured the suggestion that he mightteach drilling and Latin. It never struck any of them that instead ofsettling down at the school he would want to whisk away his bride to theother side of the world. The unexpected had happened, however. PrettyMrs. Gifford had decided that the claims of matrimony outweighed allconsideration for her pupils, and had gone without even a good-bye, leaving Miss Todd to reign in her stead. 

There was no doubt that Miss Todd was admirably fitted to fill the post. Possibly, unknown to the girls, she had been gravitating towards it eversince her principal's hasty war wedding. Certainly she was ready, withthe utmost calm, to take over the school at the critical moment, andtransfer the connection from Mrs. Gifford's name to her own. She was awoman of decided character, at her prime intellectually and physically, tremendously interested in reconstruction problems, and longing to trysome educational experiments. So far, her ambitious schemes had beenmuch hampered by her Head. Mrs. Gifford, pleasant and popular both withgirls and parents, had clung to old-fashioned methods, and had been verydifficult to move in the matter of modern innovations. She had alwaysput on the curb when the second mistress's fertile imagination hadpranced away on Utopian lines. To an ardent spirit, steeped in newrace-ideals, and longing for an opportunity of serving her generation, it was a proud moment when she suddenly found herself in a position tocarry out her pet schemes unchecked. On this first day of the new termshe moved round the school with the satisfaction of an admiral reviewinga battleship. 

It was much to Miss Todd's credit that she was able to take her freshduties quite calmly, and without any fuss or exhibition of nerves. Shewas not a nervy woman, to begin with, and she had made a great point ofcultivating self-control. With her tall figure, clear grey eyes, brightcomplexion, and abundant chestnut hair, she made a very favourableimpression upon those parents who had brought their daughters back toschool in person. At the moment when Wendy, Sadie, Tattie, Magsie, andVi were sitting grousing in the wheelbarrow, Miss Todd, in thedrawing-room, was completing an arrangement which was largely to affecttheir future. 

"It's very short notice, of course, " she was saying. "But, as ithappens, there's a vacant bed, and I can manage it perfectly well. "

"That's just a real relief to me!" replied a pleasant American voicefrom the sofa. "We can't take Diana with us to Paris, and I don't wantto burden my cousin with her, so I said to my husband: 'There's nothingfor it but school, only it must be a good one'. Well, we motored alongto the nearest clergyman, introduced ourselves, and asked him torecommend a real first-class, high-toned British school that would takein Diana, and he said: 'Why, there's one on the spot here--you needn'tgo any farther!' Time was getting short, so we brought her right along. I must say I'm satisfied with all I've seen, and the talk I've had withyou, and I feel we're leaving her in good hands. My cousin, Mrs. Burritt, will send over the rest of her things from Petteridge, and ifthere's anything else she needs please get it for her. Well, Steve, ifwe've to catch that 4. 30 train, we must be going. "

The tall dark gentleman in the arm-chair consulted his watch and rosehastily. 

"Just time if we put on some speed; but the roads are execrable, " hevouchsafed. 

The central figure around whom this conversation had revolved had beensitting in the window gazing at the view over the lake. She now turnedher head sharply, with an inscrutable expression in her dark grey eyes, and, walking across to her father, linked her arm in his. He bent downand whispered a few rapid words into her ear. Her mother patted her onthe shoulder reassuringly. 

"You're going to have a good time, Diana. Why, I expect you won't bewanting us to come back, you'll be so happy here. Address your lettersunder cover of the American Embassy, Paris, till we send you the name ofour hotel. Good-bye! Be a good child and a credit to us. "

The leave-taking was perhaps purposely cut short. Mr. And Mrs. Hewlitteach bestowed a swift kiss upon their daughter, then made a hasty exitto their waiting car, and were whirled away in the direction of GlenburyStation and the 4. 30 train, and their ultimate destination of Paris. 

Ten minutes later Lennie Browne, one of the juniors, disturbed thequintette on the wheelbarrow with a message. 

"Miss Todd's sent me to find you, " she announced. "You've got to comeand make friends with a new girl. "

Sadie, Vi, and Tattie quitted their seats so suddenly that Magsie andWendy, still resting on the handles, came croppers on to the grass. Wendy rolled over into a comfortable position, and did not trouble torise. 

"Bunkum!" she remarked incredulously. "Don't try to rag _me_, LennieBrowne, for it won't come off. As it happens, I asked Toddlekins half anhour ago, and she said there were _no_ new girls. There!"

"Well, there's one now, at any rate. "

Wendy looked at her pityingly, and shook her head. 

"Lennie, you're a decent kid, but you're not clever. If you'd reallywanted to have us on successfully, why didn't you try something more outof the common? You've a great lack of imagination. Anybody--yes, _anybody_--could have thought of inventing a new girl!"

"But I _haven't_ invented her--she's really here! She walked with me asfar as the sundial, and I left her sitting on the seat while I went tolook for you. I said I wouldn't be a minute. Why, there she is!--come tosee what's become of me. "

The quintette turned hastily, to find themselves confronted with anabsolute endorsement of the truth of Lennie's statements. A stranger ofabout fourteen was walking towards them, or perhaps "shambling" would bea better description of her method of progress. She stooped badly, swungher arms in an awkward fashion, and shuffled her feet along the grass;her eyes were vacant, her chin was retreating, and her mouth was set ina foolish smile. For a full ghastly minute she stood and stared at thegirls, and they, in utter and amazed consternation, could not think of asingle intelligent remark with which to break the silence. Magsie wasthe first to recover herself. 

"You--you've only just come, I suppose?" she gasped, as politely as shecould. 

The stranger gave a sickly giggle. 

"Are you my new schoolfellows?" she asked in a low creaking voice. "Miss Todd said you'd be pleased to see me, and I must make friends withyou. I've been wanting a bosom friend, so I'll just pick one of you out. Let me see"--running her vacant eyes over the group and singling outWendy--"I may as well choose you as anybody. Are you ready to be mychum?"

Wendy flushed scarlet, and, jumping up from the grass, brushed some deadleaves from her dress. 

"It's too soon to think about chums yet, " she returned. "You haven'teven told us your name, and you don't know ours. Where do you comefrom?"

"That means, I suppose, that you don't want me for a friend!" rasped thecreaking voice. "Don't you like the look of me? What's wrong with menow? Please tell me, for I'd really like to know. I'm just crazy to makefriends. "

In huge embarrassment Wendy and her companions stared at theextraordinary stranger. She bore their united gaze without flinching. She even turned round slowly, so that they might have an adequate viewof her foolish profile, protruding lips, and retreating chin. 

"Do tell me what's wrong with me?" she repeated. 

No one volunteered a criticism, and for another whole minute there wasdead silence. Then a brisk voice remarked:

"Would this style suit you better now, I wonder?"

The girls caught their breath in amazement. The stooping, slouchingfigure had suddenly straightened itself up, the protruding lips had setinto a small, neat mouth, the receding chin had come forward, and thevacant eyes were twinkling with mirth. Instead of a half-idiotic, andwholly unattractive, specimen of girlhood, a very charming littlepersonality stood before them. The transformation was so utter that atfirst the audience simply gaped, then with one accord they exploded intolaughter and words. 

"Oh, I say!"

"You fraud!"

"I really thought you were dotty!"

"How _did_ you do it?"

"You looked too awful for words!"

"You haven't told us your name yet!"

"Can you do it again?"

The stranger curtsied, dropped her jaw, set her eyes in a glassy stare, and, resuming the creaking voice, bleated forth:

"Thank you! Thank you for welcoming me! I'm called Miranda Jane Judkins, and I come from Conic Section Farm, Squashville, Massachusetts. Which ofyou wants to chum with me? Don't all speak at once!"

"Oh, for goodness' sake drop that awful face! It absolutely gives mespasms!" hinnied Magsie. "It's the very image of a village idiot whoused to terrify me when I was a kiddie. Don't look at me with thosehorrid eyes! I shall have a fit!"

"Look here, you mad thing!" said Vi. "Can't you tell us who you reallyare?"

"Miss Judkins. "

"No, no! Your real name! Stop ragging!"

Once more the half-witted, shambling figure gave place to a sparkling, self-possessed, laughing young witch of fourteen, who with another mockcurtsy introduced herself. 

"Diana Hewlitt--quick-change artiste. Entertainments arranged at anymoment. Reserved seats, five shillings. Proceeds to the Red Cross Fund. Oh, I believe at first I really _did_ take you in!"

"You did, " admitted Wendy; "because, of course, we weren't expecting it. We shall know you better now, and be prepared. I say, you're rather asport! Where have you turned up from? Miss Todd said only an hour agothere weren't any new girls. "

"No doubt she told the truth. There weren't then! Why, an hour since wewere just half-way between Glassenrigg and Scawdale, pelting along atabout double the speed limit. Miss Todd didn't even know of myexistence. I've been dropped upon her like a bolt from the blue. I mustsay I admired the calm way she fixed up to take me, all in ten minutes. Most Britishers wouldn't have fallen in so quickly with Dad's lightningmethods, but she seemed to understand right away. "

"Are you American, then?"

"Rather! I was born under the Stars and Stripes. Never saw England tillwe crossed this summer. Dad's just been called over to Paris, and d'youknow, they've let Mother go with him, but they wouldn't give _me_ apassport. Wasn't it real mean of them? I do think the War Office is thelimit! Well, of course, the question was: what could be done with me. Isaid: 'Leave me at Petteridge'. But Mother said: 'No; I'm not going todump you on Cousin Coralie; she'd be down with nervous exhaustion at theend of a fortnight. School's the place for you, and we've got to rakeround and find a school in double-quick time'. Dad nodded, and just rangup and ordered the car, and we started out with no more idea than theman in the moon where I was going to be landed. I'm glad fate tossed mehere, though. It looks nice; kind of a real old-world flavour about theplace, somehow. I'm crazy on old things--Scott's novels, you know, andcastles, and all the rest of it. When I heard this was called PendlemereAbbey, I said: 'That'll do! Take me there!' So here I am!"

"It takes one's breath away, " commented Tattie. "I don't know that I'dlike to be whisked off to school in such a precious hurry myself. "

"It's rather as if the pixies had dropped you, " laughed Vi. 

"Right you are! I guess I'm a pixie sort of girl. Please don't expect'prunes and prism' from me, for you won't get them!"

"I don't know that we want them, " chuckled Wendy. 

"That takes a weight off my mind, then, " twinkled Diana. "I likemediæval abbeys and black beams and raftered roofs, and even ghosts; butI don't know that I exactly want mediæval schoolgirls. "

"Don't alarm yourself, " said Wendy, clapping her on the shoulder. "Iassure you you'll find us all absolutely and entirely modern andup-to-date. "

CHAPTER II

Stars and Stripes

If Diana was possessed with a passion for antiquities, she mightcertainly congratulate herself that a kindly fate had popped her intosuch an appropriate spot as Pendlemere Abbey. It offered everyattraction to those in search of the romantic and picturesque. TheCistercian monks who had founded it in the thirteenth century hadexhibited their proverbial good taste in the choice of a situation. Itwas built on rising ground above the lake, and commanded a glorious viewacross the fells. The garden, with its hill-side of rhododendrons, itsclumps of sweet-smelling pines, and its borders of such hardy flowers asdid not mind the nip of the northern air, ran steeply from a flatterrace towards the lake, where it ended in a landing-stage and a lockedboat-house. Its orchard linked branches with the apple-trees of aneighbouring farm. The house itself, though preserving the name and thetraditions of the Abbey, had been converted during Tudor times fromreligious to lay uses. Very little of the old monks' building remainedintact, though evidences of it cropped up in unexpected quarters. Therewere the remains of a piscina in the pantry; a groined arch roofed theback kitchen; two carved stone pillars supported the fire-place in thedining-room; a Gothic doorway led into the courtyard, and the remnantsof some ancient choir stalls were fitted as a window-seat on the stairs. The Tudor and Elizabethan periods had left more permanent traces, and, though later architects had played havoc with the simplicity of thestyle, they had not altogether destroyed its sixteenth-centuryappearance. The greater part was built of northern stone, with mullionedwindows, twisted chimneys, peaked gables surmounted with stone balls, and a roof of flat slabs of the same yellow-brown stone that formed thewalls. A section of black and white timbered Elizabethan work, a QueenAnne wing, and some early Victorian alterations made a strangeconglomeration of styles of architecture; but the roses and ivy hadclimbed up and clothed ancient and modern alike, and Time had softenedthe jarring nineteenth-century additions, so that the whole now blendedinto a mellow, brownish mass, with large, bright windows enclosed in aframe of well-clipped greenery. 

There was accommodation in the roomy old house for twenty boarders, andthough no day pupils were supposed to be received a special exceptionhad been made in the case of Meg and Elsie Fleming, the Vicar'sdaughters, who arrived every morning by nine o'clock, and Nell Gledhill, whose governess brought her each Friday afternoon for dancing-lessons. So far the school had jogged along very happily under Mrs. Gifford'smild regime. Fathers and mothers had sometimes shrugged their shouldersand hinted that her methods were old-fashioned, but they always addedthat the tone of the place was so excellent, and the health of thepupils so well looked after, that there was really no just cause forcomplaint. Miss Todd, sitting in her study, and writing twenty neat, well-thought-out letters to explain the sudden transfer of the school, assured parents that, while preserving all the traditions of herpredecessor, she hoped to introduce a modern element of progress inkeeping with the needs of the day. "I realize that we must march withthe times, " she wrote; and she meant it. She began her innovations onthat very first day. Several disconsolate seniors congregated on theupper landing viewed change number one with dismay. 

"But Mrs. Gifford promised that Geraldine and Ida and I might have theEast room, " urged Nesta Erskine. "It was all arranged last term, and weclubbed together to buy a bookcase. What are we to do with it if we'reseparated? It belongs to us all three. "

"I can't help it; those are Miss Todd's orders, " answered Miss Beverleybriskly. "Your names are on cards pinned on to the doors of your newrooms. Pass along at once, and find your quarters and begin to unpack. Don't stand here blocking up the passage! Yes, Betty? Miss Hampson wantsto speak to me? Tell her I'm coming now. "

As Miss Beverley bustled away the seniors moved slowly and forlornlyalong the landing in quest of billets. It reminded them of finding theirplaces in an examination-room. Their names were unquestionably on thedoors in black-and-white, but their distribution called forth a storm ofindignant comment. 

"I'm actually put with Tattie Clegg and Jess Paget!"

"And I'm boxed up with Dorothy, and Nora Haddon, and Glynne Hamilton!"

"Why, we're all mixed up with the kids!"

"Look here, you know, we can't stand this kind of thing!"

"Somebody had better go to Miss Todd!"

"It's no use; I've just been, " said Loveday Seton, joining the group ofmalcontents. "We had it all out in the study, and she listened quitekindly and politely, but she was firm as nails. She says it's anexperiment for the sake of good tone, and she hopes it will work well. We seniors are sandwiched up with intermediates and juniors so that ourinfluence may permeate through the school. "

The five listeners groaned. 

"Couldn't we permeate enough during the daytime?" sniffed Ida. "I don'tsee what influence I can have while I'm asleep. I call it a jollynuisance to be saddled with three kids in one's room. "

"Of course you have your curtains. "

"What's the use of curtains? A cubicle's only semi-private after all. What it means is that we seniors are always on duty policing thosejuniors. What a life!"

"Where are you put, Loveday?" asked Geraldine. 

"In the little ivy room upstairs. There are two beds, and I'm to actmentor to this new American girl who's just arrived. "

"Poor you! What's she like?"

"I don't know. I haven't seen her yet, but I wish she were at Jericho. "

In a decidedly ruffled frame of mind, Loveday passed along the landing, and climbed the stairs that led to the ivy room. She found her room-matealready in possession, and with her belongings half-unpacked. Photosadorned her dressing-table, a large American flag draped the mirror, andher bed was spread with odds and ends. She smiled broadly as Lovedayentered. 

"So here you are!" she greeted her. "Goody! What a relief! I've beenworrying about what you'd be like, and just praying you wouldn't havespectacles and talk with a lisp. Miss Todd gave me to understand youwere a peach, and I might think myself in luck to room with you, but younever can trust head mistresses till you see for yourself. She's told methe truth, though, after all. Yes, I like you right straight away, and Ialways make up my mind about people, slap bang off at once. "

Loveday stared in surprise at the impetuous little figure kneelingbeside the big trunk. Diana's dark-grey eyes shone like stars, her ovalface, if not exactly pretty, was piquant and interesting, herlight-brown hair curled at the tips. It was, of course, an unheard-ofliberty for a new girl, and an intermediate to boot, thus to address asenior, but the greeting was spontaneous and decidedly flattering. Thegrey eyes, in fact, expressed open admiration. On the whole, Lovedaydecided to waive ceremony and tradition for the nonce. 

"We've been put together for the term, so we must make the best of eachother, " she conceded, more graciously than she had intended to addressthe interloper. "I'm glad to see you've kept to your own side of theroom, and haven't overflowed into mine. "

"No fear!" chuckled Diana. "I've been at school before, and learnt notto spread myself out. We're on rather a short allowance of space, aren'twe? Are these drawers all I've got? I shall have just to wedge my thingsin. There's my cabin trunk to come yet. "

"You may have three pegs in the landing cupboard, and a locker in thecloak-room, but anything else will have to be stored in the box-room. Ishould think you had enough clothes there to last you a year, instead ofwanting another trunk full. "

Diana shook her head. 

"They're all mixed up. We packed in half an hour. I just flung in thefirst things that came to hand. Cousin Cora promised to send on therest of my luggage after me. If she doesn't, I'd best 'phone. "

"You'd have a little difficulty to do that, " said Loveday dryly. 

"D'you mean to say there's no 'phone here, or"--looking round theroom--"no electric light either?"

"Certainly not. We go to bed with candles. "

"Well! I wanted mediæval ways, and it looks as if I was going to getthem. It'll be rather a stunt to go to bed by candle-light. Are thereany ghosts about this place? Or skeletons built into the wall? Ordungeons with rusting chains? Or mysterious footsteps? Oh! I thoughtthere'd have been at least something spooky in a house that claims to besix hundred years old. "

Diana's cabin trunk arrived in the course of a few days. She sorted outa selection of her numerous belongings, arranged them in her limitednumber of drawers, and consigned the surplus back to her boxes to bestored in the attic. This done, and a telegram received to announce thesafe arrival of her father and mother in Paris, she seemed prepared tosettle down. Her fellow intermediates, biased largely by her generosityin the matter of chocolates, gave her, on the whole, a favourablereception. Wendy even went further, and proffered friendship. 

"You're just the jolly kind of girl I like, " she explained. "I think wemight have some topping times together, and wake up the school. Thingsare apt to get a little dull sometimes. "

Diana nodded intelligently. 

"I know. It was just the same at my last school. Everyone got into asort of stick-in-the-mud mood, and one felt it was only _kind_ to stirthem up. I guess I did it!"

"I shouldn't wonder if you did, " twinkled Wendy. "I vote we make analliance, and, if one of us thinks of any rather ripping rag, she justtells the other, and we'll play it off together. "

"Right you are! Let's shake on it!" agreed Diana, extending a small, slim hand, with a garnet birthstone-ring on the middle finger. 

The little American did not fit into her niche at Pendlemere withoutencountering a certain amount of what her schoolmates considerednecessary discipline for a novice. She had to go through an ordeal ofchaff and banter. She was known by the sobriquet of "Stars and Stripes", or "The Yank", and good-natured fun was poked at her transatlanticaccent. She took it good-temperedly, but with a readiness of reparteethat laid the jokers flat. 

"One can't get much change out of Diana, " commented Magsie, after anunsuccessful onslaught of teasing. 

"I think she's a scream, " agreed Vi. 

The baffling part of the new schoolmate was that her powers of actingwere so highly developed that it was impossible to tell whether she wasserious or playing a part. She "took in" her teasers times out ofnumber, and in fairness they deserved all they got. Towards the end ofthe first week she came into the intermediate room one morning fondlinga letter. 

"From Paris, " she vouchsafed. "Dad and Mother have got anchored at last. The journey must have been a startler. Paris is so full of Americans, it's like a little New York. "

"Why do you call it 'Parr-is'?" sniggered Sadie. 

"It's more like the French than your way of saying it, at any rate, "retorted Diana smartly. "This letter's been four days in comingthrough. "

"You might give me the stamp. "

"Certainly not. You don't deserve it. I wish I were in Paris, too. Yes, I shall call it 'Parr-is'. I'm beginning to want some of my own folks. "

"I've never met any Americans, except you, " volunteered Vi. "What arethey like?"

"What do you imagine they're like?"

"Like the pictures of 'Uncle Sam', with a limp shirt front, and a bigtie, and a goatee beard. I want to meet some real out-and-out Yankees. "

"Won't your cousins from Petteridge ever come over to see you, Di?"asked Magsie. 

"Perhaps they may, sometime, " replied Diana thoughtfully. "I should sayit's quite within the bounds of possibility, considering they only liveten miles away. "

"Gee-whiz! I guess I'd just admire to make their acquaintance!" mockedVi. "I reckon they'll be _some_ folks!"

Diana's eyes were fixed upon her with an inscrutable look, but sheanswered quite calmly:

"I'll take care to introduce you if they come. "

It was in the course of the next few days that a parcel for Dianaarrived from Petteridge Court. What it contained nobody saw exceptherself, for she did her unpacking in private. Judging from certainoutbursts of chuckling, the exact cause of which she steadily refused toreveal, the advent of her package gave her profound satisfaction. Thenext Saturday afternoon was wet: one of those hopelessly wet days thatare apt to happen in a land of lakes and hills. Banks of mist obscuredthe fells; the garden walks were turned to running rivers, the bushesdripped dismally, and cascades poured from the gutters. The school, which had been promised a country tramp, looked out of the windows withwoeful disappointment. The seniors consoled themselves by holding acommittee meeting, from which all but their elect selves were rigidlyexcluded. The juniors took possession of the play-room, and relievedtheir spirits by games which made the maximum of noise. Several of theintermediates peeped in, but, finding the place a mixture of abear-garden and the Tower of Babel, they retired to the sanctuary oftheir own form-room, where they sat making half-hearted efforts to reador paint, and grousing at the weather. 

"Is _every_ Saturday going to be wet?" demanded Magsie in an injuredvoice. 

"Seems like it!" mourned Jess Paget. "Of course it can be beautifullyfine on Friday, when we have to stop in and do dancing; and it justkeeps all the rain for Saturday. I call it spiteful! I wish I knew whatto do with myself. I'm moping. "

"Get a book out of the library. "

"I loathe reading. "

"Do some painting. "

"You know I can't paint. "

"Go and romp with the juniors. "

"I'd as soon spend an hour in a monkey-house. "

"Then I can't do anything for you, I'm afraid. You'll just have tomope. "

"Where's Sadie?" asked Peggy Collins. "She promised to give me back mycrochet-needle, and I can't get on without it. "

"She went off with Diana and Wendy half an hour ago. I saw them runningupstairs together. Don't flatter yourself she'll remember about yourcrochet-needle. "

"I know she won't--the slacker! I shall just have to go and rout her up, and make her find it. Oh, kafoozalum! It's a weary world!"

Peggy rose languidly, stretched her arms, and strolled in the directionof the door, which at that identical moment opened to admit the missingSadie. 

"Here, you old blighter, where's that crochet-needle?" demanded Peggyimpolitely. 

"Bother your crochet-needle! I've no time to go and hunt for it now. Isay, girls!" continued Sadie excitedly; "anybody know what's become ofDiana? She's wanted. Those American cousins of hers have turned up. Itold them she was in here, and they're waiting outside the door. Oh!"

Sadie's exclamation was caused by the door, which she had carefullyclosed suddenly opening, and nearly knocking her over. Apparently thevisitors did not approve of being left to wait in the passage, andjudged it expedient to make an entrance. 

"Excuse me if we walk right in, " said a nasal-toned voice; "but I wastold we'd find Miss Diana Hewlitt in here. "

The five girls, scattered about the room, stared for a second in blankamazement at the intruders. They were certainly unlike any othervisitors who had ever come to Pendlemere. The speaker was a little, short, wiry man, in a slack-fitting, brown tweed suit, with a ratherobtrusive striped tie. His raggy, grey beard straggled under his chinand up to his ears; his eyes twinkled through a pair of gold-rimmedspectacles; in defiance of European etiquette, he wore his hat over acrop of rough, grey hair. Clinging to his arm was a very stout lady in agreen coat and a velvet turban adorned with feathers. She also wasgrey-haired, and her features were somewhat obscured by a thick, blackveil. The most prominent thing about her was a large and obtrudingtooth, which gave her somewhat the appearance of a good-natured walrus;she held a morocco-leather satchel in her unoccupied hand, and wore alarge feather-boa round her neck. 

Magsie, to her eternal credit, was the first to remember her manners, and offer some sort of a greeting to the extraordinary strangers. 

"Er--good afternoon!" she stammered. "I'm afraid Diana isn't here. Shall--shall I go and fetch her?"

"Well, now, I'd call that real elegant of you, " returned the stout ladyheartily. "We can't stay long, and we don't want to waste time. "

"Cora, I guess we'd best introduce ourselves, " observed the gentleman, gently disengaging her from his arm. "We're Mr. And Mrs. Elihu Burrittof Petteridge Court. I reckon you're Diana's schoolfellows? Pleased tomeet you, I'm sure. "

"Did you have a wet drive?" asked Jess Paget, making a desperate andmost gallant attempt to pump up some item of conversation. 

The stout lady shook her head eloquently. 

"I _do_ say that in the matter of weather a British wet day just abouttakes the cake!" she replied. 

Her voice was slightly tremulous and muffled; perhaps the weatheragitated her. Moreover, her large tooth seemed to cause her someinconvenience--it wobbled visibly as she spoke. 

"If Diana don't turn up, I guess we'll have to be getting on, " venturedMr. Elihu Burritt, pulling out a big watch and consulting it. "We'vegot to call at the drug store at Glenbury, and time presses. "

"Magsie's gone to fetch her. Peggy, you go too, and hurry her up. Won'tyou sit down while you're waiting?" asked Jess, pulling forward twochairs. 

The visitors seated themselves, that is to say, they sank heavily down, and planted their hands on their knees. Their eyes took an interestedreview of the embarrassed faces of the girls, then they suddenlycollapsed into gurgles of laughter. An instant wave of comprehensionswept through the room. 

"Diana and Wendy!" exclaimed a chorus of voices. 

Mr. Elihu Burritt was guffawing to such an extent that his hat, and thevenerable locks stitched inside it, tumbled to the ground, revealing acrop of brown hair. Mrs. Cora had lost her tooth altogether, and herturban was tilted to a most disreputable angle. She slapped her partneron the back, and commanded, between sobs of mirth:

"Elihu--stop laughing! I guess we'd best wangle ourselves off!"

But the girls had crowded round to examine the details of the costumes. 

"They're topping!" they approved. "Absolutely A1! Can't think how youdid it! Diana, where did you get those togs?"

"Sent to Petteridge for them, " exulted Diana. "They came in that parcel. It's an old suit of Cousin Hugh's. I told Cousin Coralie I wanted it todress up in. The beard's just made out of tow, and so's Wendy's hair. Flatter myself I came up to your expectations of a real backwoods Yank. I wonder if I'd take in Miss Todd. I'd give a hundred dollars to try. But it might be rather a risky experiment. Don't you think my old girlis a peach? I'm nuts on her!"

"I simply shouldn't have known you, Wendy, " said Jess. "How did you makeyourself so fat?"

"I'm stuffed out with all sorts of things, " laughed Wendy. "Vests, andnightdresses, and stockings, and anything we could lay our hands on. I'm specially padded over the shoulders. The toque is one of Diana'shats turned inside out with some feathers pinned on. The tooth? Why, that was a piece of india-rubber tucked inside my lip. It was fearfullydifficult to make it stick, I can tell you. It kept jiggling about whenI tried to talk. Elihu, old man, shall we dance a tickle-toe?"

"Stop, you mad creatures! If you make such a racket you'll be bringingBunty down upon us, " interposed Magsie, as the masquerading coupletwirled each other round and round. "If you want to be ready in time fortea, you'd better go and get out of those weird garments. "

"I'd like to go down to tea in them, " declared Diana. "What a lovelysensation they'd make! Magsie, just peep out and see that the coast isclear before we make a dash for it along the passage. It might upsetBunty's nerves if she met us. "

As it happened, during the very next week Diana received a visit fromher cousins, Mr. And Mrs. Burritt of Petteridge Court. They arrived intheir Daimler car, and lunched with the school. They were the veryepitome of cultured and polished America, and the girls raved over them. After half an hour of their company, seven intermediates had determinedto mould themselves absolutely on the lines of "Cousin Coralie", and tomarry exact replicas of Mr. Burritt. It was felt that ambition couldsoar no higher. 

"I'm glad you like them, " said Diana, as she stood on the steps withsome of her friends watching the Daimler pass out through the gate. "Ithought you would--when they really turned up. That was why I wanted youto see 'Cousin Elihu' and 'Cousin Cora' first. They were more your ideaof typical Americans, weren't they? Ah!"--shaking her headcommiseratingly--"that's because you benighted Britishers just don'tknow anything about the _real_ America. "

CHAPTER III

A Penniless Princess

Miss Todd, sitting at her desk in her study, with a row of the verylatest publications on the most modern theories of education in abookcase so near that she could stretch out her hand for any particularone she wanted, rapidly reviewed some of her new experiments. First andforemost came the plan of sandwiching seniors and juniors together intheir bedrooms. She hoped the influence of the elder girls would worklike leaven in the school, and that putting them with younger ones wouldgive them the chance of developing and exercising their motherlyinstincts. She tapped her book with her pencil as she mentally ran overthe list of her seniors, and considered how--to the outside view of ahead mistress--each seemed to be progressing. 

"It's difficult to foster just the spirit one wants in them--it dependsso largely on the girl, " she decided. 

And there she was right--the girl made all the difference. HilaryChapman had listened to her remarks on "the mother instinct", and hadwalked straight into her dormitory, tow-rowed her young room-mates fortheir untidiness, snapped at their excuses, and sent them downstairswith a snubbing, returning to the bosom of the seniors ruffled, but witha strong sense of having performed her obvious duty. Betty Blane, EricaPeters, and Peggy Collins, comparing injured notes, viewed the matterfrom a different angle. 

"Calls herself a mother, does she? Jolly more like a step-mother, Ishould say, " objected Erica. 

"Pretty grizzly to be boxed up with Hilary for a whole term, " lamentedBetty. 

"I'm _not going_ to be 'mothered' by her, " proclaimed Peggy with energy. "She's only two years older than I am, and yet from the airs she givesherself you'd think she was Methuselah. "

"You don't _look_ like her daughter, " remarked Betty, who wasliteral-minded to a fault. 

Peggy made an eloquent grimace. 

"I'm an undutiful one, at any rate, " she laughed. "I'm afraid Hilarywill find me somewhat of a handful. "

Up in the little ivy room, however, matters were going somewhat better. Diana and Loveday, after a few minor differences, dovetailed both theirpossessions and their dispositions so as to admit of the least possiblefriction. It was fortunate for Diana, for she had a side to hercharacter that would have bristled into porcupine quills had she beenplaced with Hilary. Loveday's particular temperament soothed her down. 

"I'm falling in love with her, " she admitted to Wendy. "I was takenwith her, of course, the moment I saw her, but I believe now I'm goingto have it badly. I think she's beautiful! If there were a PeachCompetition, she'd win at a canter. "

Such a pandering to the "pomps and vanities" as a Beauty Show wascertainly not an item in the list of new experiments at Pendlemere, butthere was a general consensus of opinion that Loveday held the palm inthe matter of looks. She was a fair, slender girl, with delicatefeatures, a clear complexion, and a quantity of long flaxen hair. Shespoke prettily, but without affectation, and always gave an impressionof great refinement. The wistful look that sometimes shaded her blueeyes was, on the whole, attractive. 

"She's like a picture I once saw of Eve just turned out of Paradise, "commented Diana, sitting with Wendy and Tattie in the window-seat on thestairs. 

"Not half a bad shot, " said Wendy. "In fact, it just about hits themark. In a way, Loveday _is_ turned out of Paradise. That's to say, Isuppose, if her grandfather hadn't gambled, the Abbey would havebelonged to her. "

"What Abbey?"

"Why, this, of course, stupid!"

"Do you mean to say Loveday's folks used to _own_ this place?"

"They did. Owned it for hundreds of years. They were an old Borderfamily, and mixed up with the rebellion of 1745, and all sorts ofinteresting things. Loveday's grandfather was the regular old-fashionedsporting kind of squire you read about in books. He gambled the wholeproperty away. I suppose it used to be a fine place in his day. I'veheard he kept eight hunters, and always had the house full of guestswhile his money lasted. Then there was a grand smash up, and everythinghad to be sold--house, horses, furniture, and all. He went abroad anddied of a broken heart--never smiled again, and all that sort of thing, you know. "

"How fearfully romantic!" gasped Diana. "Of course it was his own faultfor gambling, but still one feels sorry for him. Did Loveday live heretoo when she was little?"

Wendy shook her head. 

"I shouldn't think so. I believe it happened ever such a long time ago;before she was born, even. "

"Couldn't her father get it back?"

"I suppose not. Besides, he's dead too. Loveday is an orphan. She'sneither father nor mother. "

"Where does she live, then, when she's at home?"

"With an uncle and aunt--her mother's relations. But she never talksvery much about them, so we fancy they're not particularly nice to her. She has no brothers or sisters. I think she feels lonely, if you ask myopinion, but she's too proud to say so. "

"And Pendlemere ought to be hers! How romantic!" repeated Diana. "Iwanted to stay in a real old-fashioned mediæval British house, and hereI'm plumped into a story as well. It's most exciting! What's going tohappen next? Is Loveday going to get it back? Will she marry the man whoowns it? Or will somebody leave her a fortune? Or will she find a lostwill? How do stories generally end?" continued Diana, casting her mindover a range of light literature which she had skimmed and halfforgotten. 

Wendy disposed of each of the suggestions in turn. 

"There isn't anybody to leave her a fortune; and what's the good offinding a will when the place is sold? The present owner is a fat oldfellow of fifty, with a wife already, and, even if _she_ died, Ishouldn't think Loveday would want to marry him. He has three daughtersolder than she is, and he's quite bald. "

Diana looked baffled. Her romantic plan of restoring the fortunes of theSeton family through matrimony certainly did not seem hopeful. 

"I'm fearfully sorry for Loveday, " confided Tattie. "I know somethingabout her, because some friends of ours live near her aunt. They say shegets very much snubbed; her cousins make her feel it's not her own home. She wants to go to college, but it's doubtful if she'll be able. NestaErskine says Loveday is just _counting_ on a career. She wants to beindependent of her aunt. "

"It must be horrible to be snubbed, " commented Diana thoughtfully. 

She had admired Loveday before, but now she looked at her room-mate withnew eyes. To Diana there was something fascinating about the idea of a"penniless princess". 

"Do your ancestors go right slap-bang back to the Conquest?" she askedinterestedly, while she was undressing that evening. 

"Well, not quite so far as that, " smiled Loveday, diligently brushing aflaxen mane ripply with plaiting. "But I believe there were Setons inthe fourteenth century, long before they had the Abbey from Edward theSixth's commissioners. There are all sorts of stories and legends aboutthem, of course. "

"What kind of stories? Do tell me! I'd just admire to hear. I'm crazy onBorder ballads and legends. Tell me, while I fix my hair. "

"Well, there was little Sir Rowland. When he was only six years old hisfather was killed in one of the battles of the Wars of the Roses. Theywere Lancastrians, and the Yorkists seized his estate, and Rowland wasonly saved from the fury of the conquering party by the devotion of hisnurse. She managed to hide him in a secret place in the tower till therewas an opportunity to escape, and then she got him away to her father'shouse in the midst of a wild tract of forest. He lived there, disguisedas a forester, for years and years, and helped to cut wood and to hunt, and only two or three people knew the secret of his birth. He used to goerrands sometimes to the great Hall of the neighbourhood, and there hesaw Lady Anne, the beautiful daughter of Lord Wharton, and felldesperately in love with her. One day when she was out riding he wasable to save her from the attack of an infuriated stag, and I supposeshe was very grateful, and perhaps showed her feelings too plainly, forher father shut her up in a turret-room, and ordered her to marrysomebody whom she didn't like at all. I don't know what would havehappened, but just then Henry VII came to the throne, and one of hisfirst acts was to restore Sir Rowland Seton to his possessions anddignity. Lord Wharton must have thought him an eligible suitor then, forhe was allowed to marry the Lady Anne, and take her away to his castle. Their tomb is in Dittington Church. He was killed at the Battle ofFlodden, and one of his sons with him. 

"There's a romantic story, too, about Sir Roderick Seton, who lived atthe Abbey here in the days of Charles I. He had a stone seat made, andput just by the front door. The first person who sat on it was a lovelygirl named Katherine, and he said to her: 'Katherine, you have sat on myseat, so you must give me three kisses as toll'. Not very long after hewent away to London, leaving his brother William to look after theestate. Then civil war broke out, and he joined the Royalist forces, andfollowed the young King Charles into exile. After the Restoration hejourneyed north, and came on foot to his old home. It was years andyears since he had left there, and nobody had had any tidings about him, or knew whether he was alive or dead. He found his brother William, whowas now married to Katherine, sitting with her and their two children onthe stone seat by the door. He asked them for a night's lodging, and, though they did not know who he was, they took him in and treated himkindly. Next morning he asked his hostess to accompany him to the door, and, pointing to the stone seat, said:

"'It is many years since I had three kisses from the dame who first saton it. '

"She recognized him then, and ran joyously to call the rest of thehousehold. His brother at once wished to hand over the keys to him, buthe would not accept them. 'I am old and childless, ' he said. 'All I askhere is bed and board till you carry me to the churchyard. ' He livedwith them for some years, and devoted himself to study. The people ofthe neighbourhood venerated him as a sage, and after his death he wassupposed on very special occasions to appear and give the family warningof future trouble. They say he was seen before the Battle of Culloden, and several times during the Napoleonic wars; but of course I can'tvouch for that--it's only legend. "

Diana, sitting up in bed with the curtains of her cubicle drawn aside tolisten, gave a long-drawn, breathless sigh. 

"O-o-o-oh! How gorgeous to belong to a highfaluting family that's gotlegends and ghosts. I'm just crazy to hear more. What about the house?Aren't there any dungeons or built-up skeletons or secret hiding-places?There _ought_ to be, in a real first-class mediæval place like this. "

Loveday was plaiting her flaxen hair into two long braids; she pausedwith the ribbon in her hand. 

"I don't know--as you say, there ought to be. I've oftenwondered--especially since----" She hesitated. 

"Since what?" urged Diana, scenting the beginning of a mystery. 

"Since something that happened once. "

"When? Oh, _do_ tell me!"

"I've never told anybody. "

Diana hopped out of bed, and flung two lace-frilled arms round herroom-mate, clinging to her with the tenacity of a young octopus. 

"Oh, Loveday! Ducky! Tell me! I shan't let you go till you promise. Please! please!" she entreated. 

"If you strangle me I can't tell anything. Get back into bed, Diana! Idon't know whether it was really important, but it may have been. Ithappened when I was quite a little girl. I had a slight attack ofmeasles, and of course I was kept in bed. Mother was nursing me, and oneafternoon she went out to do some shopping and left me to have a nap. Iwasn't sleepy in the least, and it was horribly dull staying there allby myself. I remembered a book I wanted to read which was in thedining-room bookcase, so I did a most dreadfully naughty thing: I jumpedup, put on my dressing-gown and bedroom slippers, and ran downstairs tofetch _At the Back of the North Wind_. I opened the dining-room door andmarched in, and then I got a surprise, for seated in a chair by the firewas a stranger. He looked as much surprised as I was. 

"'Hallo!' he said. 'We go to bed early in this part of the world, don'twe? Or are we only getting up?'

"I walked to the fire and warmed my hands, and looked at him calmly. Iwas a funny child in those days. 

"'It's neither, ' I answered. 'I've got measles. '

"'Then please don't give them to me, ' he laughed. 'I assure you I don'twant them. Look here! I called to see your father, or, failing yourfather, your mother. They're both out, and I've been waiting half anhour for either of them to come in. I can't stay any longer. Will yougive them a message from me? Say I've been over at Pendlemere Abbey, andthat I've made a most interesting discovery there. If they care tocommunicate with me, I'll tell them about it. Here's my card with myaddress. Now I must bolt to keep an appointment. You'll remember themessage?'

[Illustration: "O-O-O-OH! HOW GORGEOUS TO BELONG TO A HIGH-FALUTINGFAMILY THAT'S GOT LEGENDS AND GHOSTS!"]

"He flung his card on the table, went out of the room, and I heard thehall door bang after him. I stood for a moment thinking. If I gave thismessage, Mother would know that I had been out of bed and downstairs, and I should be sure to get a tremendous scolding. I was a naughtylittle girl in those days; I took the card, flung it on the fire, seized_At the Back of the North Wind_ from the bookcase, and tore upstairsagain. Of course I caught cold, and had rather a serious relapse whichpuzzled everybody. No one except myself knew the reason, and I took goodcare not to tell. Only six months afterwards I lost both my father andmother, and went to live with my aunt at Liverpool. What became of thestranger I don't know. I didn't even remember his name. "

"You weren't living at the Abbey then?"

"No, no! We never lived at the Abbey. It was sold before I was born. Ibelieve at that time it was empty, and a caretaker used to allowtourists to look through it. I suppose that gentleman was a tourist. "

"What had he found?"

"That's a question I've asked myself a hundred times. Was it a slidingpanel or a secret door? Or was he simply some antiquarian crank whowanted to prove that the Abbey was of Norman origin, or built on a Romanfoundation? How I wish I hadn't forgotten his name! When I heard thatPendlemere had been turned into a school I begged my aunt to send mehere. For a long time she wouldn't, and I went to a day-school. Then twoyears ago she and uncle decided to send me to a boarding-school, soagain I asked to come here, and after a great deal of urging they letme. I hoped I might find out something. I'm always hunting about, butI've never yet made the 'interesting discovery'. "

"Where have you looked?" asked Diana, immensely thrilled. 

"Oh, everywhere! I've tapped panels, and pushed bits of carving to seeif they'd move, but they're all absolutely firm and solid. I've had noluck. "

"I'll go exploring on my own. "

"Well, if you do, don't tell the other girls. I hate to pose as a sortof turned-out heiress, and have them pitying me. If they knew I washunting for hiding-places, I believe some of them would rag medreadfully. I should never hear the last of it. They'd always bepretending they'd found something, just to tease me. "

"And yet you ought to have been the heiress, " mused Diana. 

"It's no use talking about being an heiress when the place was soldbefore I was born, " returned Loveday rather bitterly. "I've told youthis, but I trust you not to go blabbing it all over the school. Ifyou're ready, I'll blow out the candle. Miss Hampson will be round in aminute. "

CHAPTER IV

The Rush-bearing

Among Miss Todd's modern principles of education was the sensible theorythat if you can once get a girl interested in a subject she will learnwithout any labour, and that self-acquired knowledge is far more readilyretained than facts which are crammed down one's throat. More especiallyshe applied this to history. Instead of making it a dry catalogue ofdates of kings and battles, she tried to show the gradual evolution ofthe British nation from the barbarism of the Stone Age to present-daycivilization. She dwelt much on folk-lore, ancient customs andtraditions, and especially encouraged the study of all local legends andobservances. In this she found an ally in the new vicar who had latelycome to the church at Pendlemere, and whose daughters, Meg and Elsie, attended the school as day-girls. Mr. Fleming was an enthusiasticantiquarian, and revelled in the history of the neighbourhood. He wentround his parish collecting information from the oldest inhabitants withregard to vanished and vanishing customs, and took notes for a bookwhich he hoped to write upon the folk-lore of the northern counties. Inthe heat of his ardour he suggested the revival of several quaint oldfestivals which had once held time-honoured places in the calendar ofthe year. First and foremost came the Rush-bearing. In ancient days ithad been the custom of the parishioners to cut bundles of rushes, and, walking in procession to the church, to strew the floor thickly withthem as a covering for the winter. They would be left till the spring, and cleared away in time for Easter. This old ceremony had long falleninto disuse, and was only remembered by village patriarchs as one of theyearly events of their far-away childhood. 

Though it might not be desirable once more to strew the floor withrushes, Mr. Fleming suggested that it would be a pretty idea if thegirls at Pendlemere School were to cut some bundles of them, tie themwith ribbons, and carry them into the church on the date of the oldfestival, as a memorial of the past observance. Anything so interestingas going out to cut rushes appealed to the girls, and they readilyadopted the suggestion. Miss Todd decided to turn the afternoon into akind of natural history and antiquarian excursion. 

"The rushes by the lake are not very easy to get, " she explained, "butthere are beauties growing on Fox Fell. We'll have a ramble there onSaturday, take our lunch, and bring back our bundles. Then we can plaitour ribbons at our leisure on Monday, in time for the festival onTuesday. Who wants to go? Anybody who likes may stay at home. "

A rustle passed round the room, for nobody was anxious to be left out ofthe fun. Rambles were considered special treats at Pendlemere, andsmiles decorated twenty faces at the prospect. At Geraldine's suggestionthey did their Saturday prep. In Friday's recreation time. 

"And get all your practising finished too, " she urged. "If we can tellMiss Todd that our work's quite squared up, she'll let us stay outlonger; but you know her. If there's a single girl who hasn't learnt herliterature, or made up her music list, the whole crew of us will have tocome trotting back. I'd be sorry for that girl!" Geraldine looked roundthe room grimly. "I should give her a very unpleasant time myself, and Iexpect the rest of you would, too. She'd richly deserve all she got. "

Warned by the head girl's awful threat, tasks were completed in goodtime, and promptly by half-past ten the school, in a uniform of brownjerseys, brown tam-o'-shanters with orange tassels, strong boots, lunch-wallets slung over their shoulders, and sticks in their hands, were prepared, like a group of pilgrims, to make their start. Spot, thefox terrier, escorted them, barking his loudest. Meg and Elsie Flemingjoined them in the village; so with Miss Todd and Miss Beverley theyformed a party of twenty-four. They set their faces towards the fells, and stepped out briskly. They were not bound to walk in a crocodile, but, though some progressed in groups, most of the girls gravitated intopairs. Diana and Wendy linked arms as naturally as two pieces of mercurymerge together in a box. Their spirits, usually high, were to-day atbubbling-over point: they laughed at everything, whether it was a jokeor not. 

"It's my first real mountain walk in England, " announced Diana. 

"Oh! I'm glad you allow they _are_ mountains, " said Sadie, coming upfrom behind. "You've been bragging so hard about America, that I thoughtperhaps you'd consider them hillocks. "

"They _are_ hillocks compared with the Rockies, " flashed Diana. "I'm notgoing to give way an inch about America, so there!"

"All right, Uncle Sam, brag away. Everything over there is ten timesbigger and better than here--the apples are the size of pumpkins, andthe brooks are so wide you can't see across them, and it takes you yearsto ride round a single farm! We know! You needn't tell us again. "

"I wasn't going to!" retorted Diana. "What's the use, when you can makeit all up for yourself?"

"Oh! my invention's nothing to yours. I expect you're telling Wendy somestartlers. I'm going to walk with Vi, she's more interesting than youtwo. "

"What's the matter with Sadie?" asked Diana, as their schoolmate ran onto catch up Violet. 

"Jealous!" said Wendy, shaking her head sagely. "She has these attackssometimes, and I know the symptoms. She doesn't like to see you and mewalking together. Last term she and I and Magsie and Tattie were inDormitory 4. Magsie and Tattie did the 'twin cherries on one stalk'business all the time, so in self-defence Sadie and I had to chum, though we squabbled six times a day. I'm not going to be monopolizednow, so she needn't think it. Let her chum with Vi if she likes, I'msure I don't care. Hallo! Which stile do we go over here, I wonder?"

The two girls had lagged behind, so that the rest of the party, walkingat the brisk pace set by Miss Todd, had passed on in front. Wendymounted each stile in turn, and surveyed the prospect of fields and highhedges. There was not a solitary tam-o'-shanter to be seen from eitherof them. In much doubt she hesitated. 

"It'll probably be to the left, because I know we have to go throughthat wood over there before we get out on to the fells, " sheconjectured. 

"I can't help you, " said Diana. "Is it any use tossing for it?"

They ventured to the left, and, after walking over three fields, foundthemselves in a narrow lane which terminated in a pond. It was such anevident cul-de-sac that there was nothing for it but to turn back. Whenthey again reached the stiles they found Geraldine sitting upon theright-hand one. Her expression was thundery, and her greeting thereverse of cordial. 

"Where _have_ you been, you two stupids? Why can't you keep up with therest of us instead of side-tracking like this? Here you're keeping thewhole party waiting, and I've had to turn back to hunt you up. "

"Sorry to be on the earth!" apologized Wendy; "but we missed our way. "

"Then it's your own fault, for we left the gipsy trail for you as plainas plain could be. Some people have no eyes!"

"What gipsy trail?"

Geraldine pointed laconically to the grass. 

There, just by the right-hand stile, lay two crossed sticks. They wereplaced in a most obvious position. It was a marvel how they had escapednotice. 

"You may well stare!" commented Geraldine with sarcasm. 

"I believe I did see them, " said Diana, "but I didn't know what theymeant. "

"Didn't know! Why, Sadie told you! I sent her on purpose. Miss Todd saidwe were to leave the gipsy trail at every doubtful place. "

"Sadie never told us. She never said a single word. "

"You probably didn't listen. Well, I can't argue it out now, the othersare waiting, and Miss Todd's furious. Come along as fast as you can. "

Diana and Wendy considered that the summary scolding which they receivedfrom Miss Todd, who was in too big a hurry to listen to any excuses, wasentirely Sadie's fault, and a point to be settled up with her later. Atpresent she scuttled on ahead, conveniently out of their way. 

"Just let her wait!" vowed Wendy darkly. 

It was necessary to step along briskly if they meant to accomplish thewalk which Miss Todd had in her mind's eye, and anybody who has everacted leader to a party of twenty-four knows the difficulty of makingeveryone keep the pace. 

"I believe Toddlekins would like to rope us all together as if we wereSwiss mountaineers, " giggled Magsie, "or a gang of prisoners clankingchains. It's rather weak if one can't even stop to pick a flower. "

They had passed through the wood by now, and were on the open fells. Theview was gorgeous. The October sun flooded the landscape and showed upthe wealth of autumn colour: tree-crested crags, ravines with brawlingbrooks, stretches of heather-clad moor, banks of faded bracken, ruggedrocks and stony hill-crests were spread on the one hand, while to thewest lay a distant chain of lakes, embosomed in meadows green asemerald, and reflecting the pale autumn sky in their smooth expanse. Atthe top of the first fell, Miss Todd called a halt. They had reachednumber one of the objects she had set in the day's programme. It was apre-historic cromlech--three gigantic stones reared in the form of atable by those old inhabitants of our island whose customs and modes ofworship are lost in the mists of antiquity. The storms and snows of manythousand years sweeping round it had slightly displaced the cap stone, but it stood otherwise intact, a grey, hoary monument to the toil of theshort, dark neolithic race who once hunted on these self-same fells. Thegirls crowded round the cromlech curiously. It was large enough for fourof them to sit underneath, and several crammed in as an experiment. 

"Was it an altar?" asked Stuart. 

"The altar theory is exploded now, " said Miss Todd. "It is generallyrecognized that they were burial-places of great chiefs. The body wouldbe placed inside, with stone weapons and drinking-cups, and any otherarticles the man had loved when he was alive. Then a great heap ofstones and earth would be piled over and round it, to keep out thewolves which were the terror of early man. The weather, and perhapsfarmers, have taken away the mound, and laid bare the cromlech; butlook! here is one that is almost in its natural position. "

The girls turned, and saw close by a rocky mound that jutted from amongthe crags. In its side was a small opening, just large enough to squeezethrough. Miss Todd had brought candle and matches, and personallyconducted relays of girls into the chamber within. They went curiouslyor timorously as the case might be. 

"Is there a skeleton inside? I don't know whether I _dare_, " shiveredTattie. "It's like going into a grave, and I'm scared to death. "

"Don't be silly!" said Geraldine, who, with Loveday and Hilary, wasmaking her exit. "There's nothing inside it. It's only like a cave. "

"You're sure bogeys won't catch my legs?"

"Stop outside, if you're afraid. "

"It's like a fairy-tale, and going into the gnome's hill, " flutteredMagsie. 

Everybody was determined to have a peep, and even Tattie mustered upsufficient courage to screw through the narrow portal, though shesquealed in the process, and clung tightly to Magsie's hand. Diana andWendy were among the last to effect the investigation. By that time thepiece of candle was guttering out, and Miss Todd, tired of actingshow-woman, returned to the open air, and gave marching orders. 

Diana and Wendy, rather fascinated with the "Goblin Hole", as theycalled it, lingered, poking their noses inside the entrance. 

"I didn't go in, " said a voice behind them. Turning, they saw Sadie'sface, interested, and half-regretful. 

"Then you've lost your luck, " said Diana decisively. "If you go in andturn round three times inside, you can have a wish, and it's bound tocome true. You'd better do it. You've just time. "

"In the dark?" hesitated Sadie. 

"Quick! Go on!" urged her companions, standing back to make way for her. "Here are the matches. "

Sadie struck a match, and cautiously ventured forward. The moment shewas well inside Diana motioned to Wendy, and, catching up a piece ofwood that lay on the ground, tilted it like a door across the entrance, and piled some stones against it. Then the pair fled. They heard anagonized shriek behind them, but they turned deaf ears to it. 

They were half-way down the heathery hill-side when a very ruffled andindignant Sadie overtook them. 

"Hallo! I thought you'd gone to live with the goblins, " exclaimed Dianacheerfully. 

"You're a pair of BEASTS!" exploded Sadie. 

"Don't mench! What kind of beasts, please? Young gazelles or kittens?"

"Pigs would be more like it!" snapped Sadie. "To think of shutting me upalone in that bogey-hole! I might have lost my reason. "

"Didn't fancy you'd go stark staring mad as fast as all that, " chuckledDiana. "It didn't take you very long to push that door down. "

"If we see any symptoms of insanity cropping out in you, we'll know thereason, " added Wendy smartly. 

"And you see it's been very good for you to know what it feels like tobe left behind, " rubbed in Diana. "You never told us about that gipsytrail dodge. Tit for tat's my motto. "

"I think you're the two horridest girls in the school! I sha'n't speakto you again. You may consider yourselves funny, but no one else does, "said Sadie witheringly, as she flounced away to hang on to Geraldine'sarm, and pour her woes into the head girl's not too willing ear. 

It was a good hour's walk from the cromlechs to Birk Water, the lakewhere they intended to pick the rushes. The path was the merest track, and the tramp through the heather and over rough and rugged stones welljustified the thick footgear upon which Miss Todd had insisted. BirkWater was a lovely little mountain tarn lying under the shadow of FoxFell, a smooth, grassy eminence down which hurried a noisy stream. Theyfound a sheltered place in the sunshine on the bank, and sat down to eattheir lunch. Hard-boiled eggs and cheese sandwiches tasted delicious inthe open air, and for a special treat there was an apple apiece. Innormal times the supply of apples was liberal, but this year the crophad failed, and they were rare dainties. 

"I sympathize with Eve, " said Wendy, munching blissfully. "It must havebeen a very great temptation, especially with 'knowledge' thrown in. Just think of being able to eat an apple that would teach you all yourdates and French verbs. "

"There weren't any dates then, unless they counted the geologicalperiods; and the Tower of Babel came later, so the French languagewasn't invented, " objected Tattie. 

"Oh! don't be so literal-minded. I never meant that Eve sat at a deskand wrote exercises. I'm only telling you I like apples. "

"Well, so do I, and yours is a bigger one than mine. "

"It won't be long, don't you worry yourself. It's getting 'small bydegrees and beautifully less'. "

The slopes of the hill were slightly marshy, and grew a crop ofremarkably tall and fine rushes. They were much easier to gather thanthose on the borders of the lake. The girls had brought knives, and, when lunch had vanished to the last crumb, they dispersed up thehill-side to reap their rush harvest. 

"If they're not all wanted for the church, I vote we ask Miss Todd tolet us put some down on the schoolroom floor, " said Diana, hacking awaycheerfully. "I'd just admire to know what they feel like under one'sfeet. It would take one back about five centuries. "

"Spiffing! We'll ask her! Get as many as you can carry, and tell theothers. They'd be far more interesting than linoleum. Think of beingable to swish one's toes about in them. I hope the church won't want toomany. "

"It oughtn't to claim more than its tithe. I suppose it's entitled to atenth of every harvest, if we stick strictly to the old customs, " smiledLoveday, whose arms were already filled with a sheaf of green andorange. 

On the open side of the fell the wind blew strongly, and it was astruggle to toil upwards. The school tacked instead towards thesheltered bank of the stream, and with one accord broke into Scotchsongs. Geraldine, in a full contralto, was singing "Green grow therashes, O". Betty Blane's chirpy voice proclaimed "I'm ower young tomarry yet", --a self-evident proposition, as she was only thirteen. Stuart and Loveday were crooning "Flowers of the Forest" as a kind ofsoprano dirge, which was drowned by a chorus of juniors roaring "AuldLang Syne". 

 "We twa hae paidled i' the burn Frae mornin' sun till dine", chanted Diana after them. "And that's just what I want to do. I've neverhad a chance yet to 'paidle' in a British burn. "

"You won't to-day, then, " said Geraldine, who chanced to overhear, andstopped her singing to interpolate a remark. "Shoes and stockings aren'tallowed off, except in the summer term. "

 "Green grow the rashes, O! Green grow the rashes, O! The sweetest hours that e'er I spent Were spent among the lassies, O!"

Diana stood frowning as Geraldine passed along, carolling at the pitchof her voice. 

"What nonsense!" she growled. "Who made such a silly old rule? I'm notgoing to keep it. "

"It's quite as warm to-day as it sometimes is in summer, " agreed Wendy. 

"I believe it's only 'swank' on Geraldine's part, because she's headprefect. I _shall_ paddle! Just because she said I mustn't. Come on, Wendy! Let's scoot into this hollow and enjoy ourselves. Geraldine makesme feel real bad when she bosses. I want to go and break all the rules Ican. "

CHAPTER V

Diana Dares

If Diana--a modern Eve--hankered after the apples of new experiences, Wendy succumbed to her persuasions as readily as Adam. The littlepurling brook was attractive, mistresses and prefects were safely out ofsight, and schoolmates, if they chanced to appear on the scene, might bebribed not to blab. In a twinkling laces were unfastened, and two stoutpairs of boots stowed away among the stones, each with its stockingtucked inside; while two pairs of bare feet went splashing joyously intothe brook. It was fun paddling in the little pools and scrambling overthe rocks, waving a foot occasionally into a foaming fall, and dancingout on to the grass when the water grew too cold to be endured anylonger. They wandered for some distance up the hill-side, supremelyhappy, though taking care not to allow their exuberant spirits tooverflow into song. So far not a soul seemed to have noticed them--theywere enjoying the sweets of undiscovered crime. Suddenly through theclear autumnal air rang out the shrill, bubbling call of the regimentalwhistle with which Miss Todd was wont, on country walks, to collect herscattered flock. The two sinners jumped so uneasily that Wendy slippedfrom a stone and splashed into a pool, with rather disastrousconsequences to her skirt. 

"We'd best go back and find our boots, " she said, hurriedly wringing thewater from the brown tweed. 

They had not realized how far they had roamed up the stream, and thelength of the way back surprised them. It is not an easy matter to hurryover slippery stones, though they made what speed they could, urged byanother summons from the whistle. 

"I think this was the place, " declared Diana, at last arriving atlandmarks that seemed familiar. "I left mine just over there. "

Both girls sought their hiding-places, but, to their utter dismay, theboots were missing. They searched about here, there, and everywhere, butnot so much as the tab of a lace could be found. Meanwhile the whistlesounded impatient blasts. 

"What _are_ we to do?" flustered Wendy. "Toddlekins will be furious ifwe don't go; and yet how _can_ we go without our boots?"

"We must have mistaken the place, " gasped Diana. "Perhaps it was fartherdown. "

"No, no! I'm certain it was just here. "

"Well, we're in a pretty fix, at any rate. "

"T-r-r-r-r-ee-ee!" came again from the fell side. To disobey the summonsdeliberately was open mutiny. An agitated voice on the bank called tothem. 

"Wendy and Diana, can't you hear the whistle? Come this instant!"

It was Stuart Hamilton, who stood beckoning violently. 

"We've lost our boots, " wailed Wendy. 

"Then come without them. Miss Todd has sent me to find you. Hurry up!"

It was a scratchy and painful performance to hurry through heather andover sharp stones to the spot where the school was assembled. Miss Toddstood staring at them as they approached, with her "report yourself inmy study" expression. They felt their bare legs and feet mostembarrassingly conspicuous, and wished that fickle fashion had clothedthem in longer skirts. 

"What is the meaning of this?" asked the Principal, eyeing theiruncovered extremities severely. 

"We've--we've--lost our boots, " stammered Diana, speaking for both. 

"And why were your boots taken off? You were aware of the rule, for Ihappen to know that you had just been reminded of it. " (Here Wendy fixeda reproachful gaze on Geraldine, who coloured slightly. ) "You'vedeliberately disobeyed orders, and you will be confined to 'bounds' fora fortnight. It's absolutely essential in our country rambles thatdiscipline should be kept up, and any girl who breaks rules will stay athome next time. You deserve to walk back with bare feet, but MissBeverley will give you your boots. Put them on at once!"

It was horrible to have to sit down upon the heather and pull onstockings and boots under the critical supervision of twenty-two pairsof eyes. Diana's lace broke, and Wendy's fingers seemed all thumbs. MissTodd superintended till the last knot had been awkwardly tied, then shegave the signal for marching. Considerably crestfallen, the delinquentsdropped towards the rear. 

"Did Geraldine sneak?" whispered Wendy to Violet. 

"No, it wasn't exactly her fault--it was Spot really. He routed out theboots, and began barking and worrying them, and Miss Beverley rushed upto see what he'd got--she thought he'd caught an otter or a water-rat. When she saw it was boots--well----"

"She knew she'd caught us, " finished Diana. 

"She took the boots straight to Miss Todd, and Toddlekins blew herwhistle and counted us over like sheep to find who was missing. Then sheasked who'd seen you last, and if anyone had given you leave to wade. She dragged it all out of Geraldine. I don't think Gerry would have toldon her own. "

"Spot!" said Diana, turning reproachful eyes on that panting specimen ofthe canine race. "I used to think you a dinky little dog, but I'm out offriends with you now. It's a real mean trick you've played us. Oh! youneedn't come jumping up on me and licking my hand. What possessed you tounearth those boots? 'Bounds' for a whole fortnight! And I wanted to goto Glenbury on Wednesday. It's too disgusting for words! Vi, d'you thinkif I looked an absolute hallowed saint all Sunday, and Monday, andTuesday, Miss Todd would let me go to Glenbury? My name's down for theexeat, you know. "

Violet regarded Diana for a moment or two as if making mentalcalculations. 

"You couldn't do it, " she decided at last. "You couldn't look the leasttiny, weeny atom like a saint if you tried till doomsday. Saints oughtto be thin and wan, with straight noses and fair hair parted in themiddle. You're rosy and substantial, and your nose isn't straight, andyour hair's too brown, and as for your eyes--they've a wicked twinkle inthem the whole time. No, my good girl, whatever else you may do, youwon't succeed in looking saintly. "

"Well, I guess I've got some bounce in me, certainly, " agreed Diana. "But I thought perhaps if I went about on tiptoe and whispered, and"--hopefully--"I could keep my eyes half-shut, couldn't I?"

Violet shook her head decisively. 

"That twinkle would ooze out of the smallest chink, and besides, even ifyou managed to look a saint, that wouldn't influence Toddlekins. Youdon't know her yet. Once she says a thing she sticks to it like glue. _She_ calls it necessary firmness in a mistress, and _we_ call it astrain of obstinacy in her disposition. In the old days we could getround Mrs. Gifford, but now Toddlekins rules the show, you may as wellmake up your mind to things and have done with it. What she says iskismet. "

"Why do you want to go to Glenbury?" asked Jess. 

"Oh! just a reason of my own, " evaded Diana. 

"You'll very likely get an exeat the week after, " consoled Violet. 

"It would be no use to me then, " said Diana dismally. 

The procession of rush-bearers, each carrying a good-sized sheaf in herarms, wound down the hill-side to go back to Pendlemere by a differentroute. This was a wild track over the moors, past the old slate-quarry, where rusty bits of machinery and piles of broken slates were lyingabout, then over the ridge and down by Wethersted Tarn to the gorgewhere the river took its rise. Here a stream of considerable forcethundered along between high walls of rock. It was a picturesque spot;rowan-trees hung from clefts in the crags, their bright berriesrivalling the scarlet of the hips and haws; green fronds of fern bent atthe water's edge, and brilliant carpets of moss clothed the boulders. Atone point a great tree-trunk, a giant of the fells, rotten through manyyears of braving the strong west wind, had fallen and lay across thetorrent. It stretched from bank to bank like a rough kind of naturalbridge, with the stream roaring and foaming only six feet below. Thegirls scrambled over its upturned roots, and stood looking at thestraight trunk and withered branches that lay stretched before them. 

"Shouldn't care to venture across there, " said Loveday with a shiver. 

"It looks particularly slippery and horrid, " agreed Geraldine. 

"The water must be so very deep down there, " said Hilary. 

"I don't believe there's one of us who'd go across for afive-pound-note, " said Ida. "What offers? Don't all speak at once!"

The girls smiled, and were turning away to follow Miss Todd, whenGeraldine stopped and held up a finger. 

"What's that noise?" she asked. 

"I don't hear anything but the stream, " said Ida doubtfully. 

"I do, though, " said Diana, who with Wendy and Vi had joined theseniors. "It sounds like somebody whimpering. "

"I'm going down the bank to see. "

The others followed Geraldine, and swung themselves down to the waterlevel. Sitting under the arch formed by the roots of the tree was asmall boy of about seven, rubbing two swimming eyes with two grimylittle fists and sobbing lustily. 

"Hallo! What's the matter here?" said Geraldine briskly. "Where do youcome from, and why don't you go home? Are you lost?"

At the mention of "home" the little fellow's tears redoubled, and thewhimper rose to a roar. Ida sat down on the rock beside him, and triedto comfort him. It was a difficult process to get any coherent orsensible replies to her questions, but after considerable coaxing, and alast piece of chocolate which Wendy fortunately fished from her pocket, she managed to wring from him that his name was Harry, that he lived ata farm on the other side of the torrent, that he had come down to theriver with several other boys, and that they had dared him to cross bythe fallen tree. Once over, he was too frightened to go back, and, afterwaiting and calling to him for some time, the other boys had run away. How was he going to get home?

The situation was difficult, for there was no bridge across the riverfor many miles. Unless the child could go back the way he had come, itwas a problem what was to be done. 

"You were a silly boy ever to try to cross, " said Geraldinesententiously. 

"They said I durstn't!" sobbed the small sinner. 

"Oh, don't scold him!" pleaded Diana. "I do know so exactly how he felt. I've often been dared to do things myself, and done them, though Ishivered. "

"Well, you'd surely never do such a silly thing as cross that tree?"

[Illustration: TWO PAIRS OF BARE FEET WENT SPLASHING JOYOUSLY INTO THEBROOK]

"Wouldn't I? I believe I'm going to do it now. "

"Diana!"

"He's got to get home somehow. Look here, Harry!"--Diana knelt on thepebbles, and put her arm round the little blue-jerseyed figure--"supposeI were to go too, would you dare to cross again? We'd both crawl on ourhands and knees. "

The sobs stopped, while Harry took a swift survey of her face. Apparently he found it satisfactory. 

"If you'll go first, " he stammered. 

"Then come along--we've no time to waste, " said Diana, springing up andgiving him her hand. 

"Diana! You surely don't mean----" began Geraldine in eagerremonstrance. 

"Yes, I do!" interrupted Diana. "I've done worse things before, and I'mnot scared. Come on, Harry! We'll have you home in forty cracks. "

The girls did not attempt to interfere. They stood and watched whileDiana hauled the little boy up the bank. Perhaps each secretly wishedshe were capable of such a piece of pluck. Though the tree was tallenough to span the stream, its bole seemed very narrow to form a bridge, and the rounded surface made it all the more slippery; the few brancheshere and there were of little help. Diana hoisted up her protégé, thengoing in front of him began to crawl across on her hands and knees, speaking to him all the time, so as to encourage him to follow her. Beneath them the water foamed and roared over the rocks: to slip wouldmean to be whirled into the depths of a dark pool below. It was a slowprogress, but inch by inch they crept along till the most dangerous partwas passed, and they had reached comparative safety. The girls cheeredwhen at last Diana scrambled to her feet and lifted Harry on to dryground. A path led up the side of the gorge, and along this he set offat full speed for home. His preserver stood looking after him for aminute or two, and then she turned to re-cross her perilous bridge. Sixhands were stretched out to help her as she completed the venturesomejourney. 

"You're a trump, Di!"

"_I_ daren't have done it!"

"You've been a guardian angel to that child!"

"Was it _very_ awful?"

"I can't think how you managed it!"

"I nearly screamed when you reached the middle!"

"It felt worse coming back than going, " said Diana, brushing her skirt, which had suffered considerably. "Somehow I minded it more. Well, it'sover now! We'd better be getting on, hadn't we?"

"Yes, indeed; the others will think we're lost, " agreed Geraldine. 

The t-r-r-ee-ee of the whistle was sounding from the far distance, sothe girls made a spurt and hurried along to catch up the rest of theparty. Geraldine, in virtue of her office as head prefect, brieflyexplained to Miss Todd the cause of the delay. 

"I shouldn't have let you do it, Diana, if I had been there, " said thePrincipal. "But I've no doubt the little boy's mother is blessing you. We should have had to take him to Pendlemere with us, and have sentsomebody from the village to take him home. There would have been noother way. Remember, though, that I'm responsible for you to yourparents, and I really can't allow these harum-scarum tricks. Supposethere had been an accident!"

"Dad knows me, and he wouldn't have blamed you, " said Diana cheerily. "He says I'm like a cat with nine lives, or a bad halfpenny that alwaysturns up again. I've done worse things than this. "

"Then you won't do them while you're at this school, " returned Miss Toddfirmly, motioning her to walk along in front with Geraldine. 

On Monday afternoon, with the aid of some ribbons, the girls made theirrushes into pretty little sheaves. They plaited bands for them, andtwisted them securely. Miss Todd, much interested, superintended theiroperations. 

"You may pick some flowers from the garden to-morrow, and put garlandsround them, " she suggested. "We're reviving a most ancient custom thatdates back to the early days of Christianity in Britain. Pope Gregory IVrecommended that on the anniversaries of the dedication of churcheswrested from the Pagans, the converts should build themselves huts withthe boughs of trees round their churches, and celebrate the day withfeasting. The rush-bearing is probably the last relic of that ancientceremony. At one time there was always a village feast in connectionwith it, though it degenerated at last into a sort of rustic saturnalia, and had to be suppressed. "

"Old customs are very interesting, " said Diana, staring at the Principalwith wide-open, steady eyes. 

"I'm glad you find them so. "

"It's nice to see them _all_ kept up. If we have the rush-bearingto-morrow, oughtn't we--just to revive an old ceremony--to have thefeast as well?"

A rustle passed over the school at Diana's temerity. Miss Todd returnedthe steady gaze, then the corners of her mouth twitched. 

"You've stated the case very accurately. As a matter of fact, I haveordered seed-cake and scones, and have invited the Vicarage people totea. "

CHAPTER VI

French Leave

The sheaves of rushes were duly carried into the church, and stackedartistically in the deep window-sills, where they gave somewhat theeffect of a harvest festival. The girls were eager to lay bundles ofthem in the particular pews occupied by the school, but the verger, wholooked askance at the whole business, and whose wife was hovering aboutwith a broom to sweep up bits, vetoed the suggestion so emphaticallythat the Vicar, wavering with a strong balance towards ancient custom, hastily and regretfully decided in the negative. Neither would Miss Toddallow them to be strewn upon the schoolroom floor, although Dianaventured to suggest the advisability of practical study of mediævalmethods. 

"There are some things best left to imagination, " replied the Principaldryly. "For instance, there would be no need to dispense with forks, andlet you hold mutton bones with your fingers at dinner, in order todemonstrate fourteenth-century manners, nor to bleed you every time youhad a toothache, to test ancient practices of medicine. If you're sovery anxious to skip a few hundred years, I have, in an old Herbal, aprescription to cure 'swimming in ye heade and such like phantasies'. Itconsists mainly of pounded snail-shells, mixed with boiled tansy andsnippings from the hair of an unbaptized infant born between Easter andMichaelmas. Any one who wishes has my permission to try it. "

"No, thank you!" said Diana, screwing up her mouth. "Unless, " she addedhopefully, "I might go out and gather the tansy. We saw some growing onthe way to Fox Fell. "

"There's a fine clump at the bottom of the garden, so you needn't go outof bounds to get it, " replied Miss Todd, glancing at her pupil with eyesthat clearly saw through all subterfuges. 

The Principal was determined that Diana and Wendy, having deliberatelybroken a rule, should suffer the just consequences, and she did notintend to remit one jot or tittle of the punishment she had inflicted. "Bounds" at Pendlemere were sufficiently extensive to allow ampleexercise, and any farther excursions must be deferred till the end ofthe appointed fortnight. 

Diana, looking at the exeat list which hung in the hall, shook her headat sight of her own name scored through with a blue pencil. 

"Just to think that removing my boots and stockings for ten shortminutes should have cut me off from going to Glenbury, " shephilosophized. "I was only 'laving my feet', as the poets say. Nymphsalways did it in classical times. Indeed, I don't suppose they ever hadboots and stockings to take off, so they could paddle as they pleased. "

"They had a warmer climate in Greece, " sniffed Wendy, who had a bad coldin her head as the result of her paddling; "and I suppose they wereaccustomed to it. If there is anything you want particularly inGlenbury, Magsie's going, and I expect she'd get it for you. "

"I don't know whether she could. "

"What is it you want?"

Diana hesitated, then whispered in Wendy's ear:

"Three packets of Turkish cigarettes. "

"O-o-o-oh!"

Wendy's eyes were wide. Diana nodded determinedly. 

"But what do you want them for?"

"That's my own business. "

"You surely don't _smoke_!"--in a horrified voice. 

"I don't want them for myself--I'll tell you that much. "

"For whom are they, then?"

"I shan't tell you!"

"Magsie would never dare to bolt into a tobacconist's and buycigarettes. "

"I was afraid she wouldn't, " said Diana sadly. 

"And you'd better be careful yourself if you go to Glenbury next exeatday. Toddlekins would draw the line at cigarettes. You wouldn't like toget expelled?"

"I don't know that I'd very much care, " sighed Diana. 

She revenged herself for her enforced seclusion by clumping noisilyabout the passages, till Miss Todd, hearing the racket, dropped asignificant hint as to the necessity of compulsory felt slippers forgirls who had not learnt to walk lightly. So, fearing that the Principalmight really carry out this threat, Diana betook herself to the garden, and expended her superfluous energy on a fast and furious set of tennis. Having lost three balls, she left Vi and Peggy to look for them, and, still in a thoroughly bad temper, strolled round the corner of thehouse. On the front drive she saw a sight that set her running. Exactlyopposite the door stood the car of her cousin, Mrs. Burritt. It wasempty, but the chauffeur, at the top of the steps, was in the very actof handing two envelopes to the housemaid. 

"Anything for me, Thompson?" cried Diana eagerly. 

"Yes, miss. Letter for you, and one for Miss Todd, " replied the man, touching his cap. 

Diana seized hers from Edith, the maid, devoured its contents, andclapped her hands. 

"I'll be ready in five minutes, Thompson!" she exclaimed, and fledindoors. 

Half-way down the corridor she nearly ran into Miss Todd, emerging fromher study with an open letter in her hand. 

"Where are you going, Diana?"

"Cousin Cora's asked me for the night! She's sent the car for me. Mycousin Lenox is there on leave!" panted Diana. 

"So I understand from Mrs. Burritt's letter, but I certainly cannotallow you to go. "

"Not go?"

Diana's face was a study. 

"I had no authority from your father and mother to allow you to acceptinvitations. "

"But I _know_ they'd let me! Oh, Miss Todd, I simply _must_!"

"That's for me to decide, Diana, not you, and I say 'no'. "

Mistress and pupil looked at each other squarely. Miss Todd's mouth wasset in a firm line. Evidently she considered that she was fighting acampaign against Diana, and she meant to carry this outpost. Diana hadthe sense to realize her defeat. She drooped her lashes over her eyes. 

"May I send a note to Cousin Cora?" she asked in a strangled voice. 

"You can if you wish, and I'll write to her myself, and explain that itis against our rules. "

Murmuring something that sounded dangerously like "Strafe rules!" Dianadarted upstairs for blotting-pad and fountain-pen. She frowned hardwhile she scribbled, thumped the envelope as she closed it, then randown to give it into the personal charge of the chauffeur. She wouldhave added some comments for his benefit, had Miss Hampson not beenstanding upon the doorstep. 

"You're not coming, miss?" enquired Thompson civilly, but with evidentastonishment. 

"_No!_" grunted Diana, turning indoors and clumping down the hall pastMiss Todd's study with footsteps heavy enough to justify the demand forfelt slippers. 

She was too angry at the moment to mind what happened, and thePrincipal, who was wise in her generation, allowed her to stamp byunchallenged. 

At tea-time, at preparation, at evening recreation, and at supper Dianasat with a thunder-cloud on her face. When she went to bed it burst. Shesquatted in a limp heap on the floor and raged at fate. 

"I'm sorry, but you're really making a most fearful fuss!" said Loveday, whose sympathy and sense of fitness were playing see-saw. "It's one ofthe rules of the school that we don't go away for odd holidays. We mayhave Friday to Monday at half-term, but even Mrs. Gifford never letanyone off in the middle of the week to stay a night. You're only servedthe same as everybody else. Why can't you take it sporting?"

"You don't understand!" wailed Diana, mopping her moist cheeks. 

"Do get up from the floor, at any rate. It looks so weak to be huddledup like a bundle of rags. You haven't brushed your hair yet. Don't be aslacker, Diana!"

Thus morally prodded, Diana rose dejectedly, put on her bedroomslippers, and took the hair-brush which her room-mate handed. She didnot like to be called a slacker, particularly by Loveday. The atmospherewas not altogether harmonious: she felt as if their thoughts wererunning round in circles, and had not yet met at a mutual angle ofcomprehension. 

"Loveday doesn't understand me--she thinks me a spoilt cry-baby!" shekept repeating to herself, and the mere fact of realizing that attitudein her companion prevented her from trying to explain the situation. Hair-brush drill proceeded in dead silence, only broken by an occasionalgasping sigh from Diana, which echoed through the room about ascheerfully as a funeral dirge. Loveday stared at her once or twice as ifabout to make a remark, but changed her mind; she dawdled about theroom, opening drawers and rearranging her possessions. When at last shewas ready to put out the light she paused, and turned to the othercubicle. Diana lay quietly with her nose buried in the pillow. Lovedaybent over her and dropped a butterfly kiss on the inch of cheek visible. 

"Poor old sport! Was I rather a beast?" she said; then, hearing MissBeverley's patrol step in the passage, she dabbed the extinguisher onthe candle and hopped hastily into bed. 

All night long Loveday had uneasy and troubled dreams about Diana. Theymet and parted, and quarrelled and made it up; they did ridiculous andimpossible things, such as crawling through tubes or walking on roofs;they were pursued by bulls, or they floated on rivers; yet always theywere together, and Loveday, with a feeling of compunction and no senseat all of the ridiculous, was trying with a sponge to mop up Diana'soverflowing rivers of tears that were running down and making pools on aclean table-cloth. She awoke with a start, feeling almost as if thesheets were damp. Stealthy sounds came from the next cubicle, and thecandle was lighted there. 

"What's the matter, Diana?"

"S-h-s-h!"

"Aren't you well?"

"Yes, I'm all right. "

"What is it, then?"

As a grunt was the only answer, Loveday got up and drew aside thecurtains. Her room-mate was ready dressed, and was in process of combingher light-brown locks and fixing in a slide. 

"What the dickens are you up to, child?" ejaculated Loveday inamazement. 

Diana turned quickly, pulled Loveday down on to the bed, flung an armround her, and laid a fluffy head on her shoulder. 

"Oh, _do_ be a sport!" she implored. 

"But what do you want to do?"

"Look here--it's like this! I'm such a duffer at explaining, or I'd havetold you last night. My cousin, Lenox Clifford, has come over to Englandwith the American contingent. He has just thirty-six hours' leave, andhe rushed over to Petteridge to see the Burritts. Lenox and I werebrought up together; I've stayed whole months with them when Uncle Carrhad a ranch in New Mexico. It was Lenox who taught me to ride, and tofish, and to row, and to skate. There's no one in the world so clever asLenox! It's his birthday to-day. It was for him I wanted to get thosecigarettes--I thought he'd like them in camp. I couldn't think ofanything else to send him that he could pack among his kit. Well, he'sgoing off this week to the front, and, as likely as not, he'll be killedright away, and I'll never see him in this world again. It makes mecrazy to think of it. He's only ten miles away, and I mayn't even saygood-bye to him. Lenox, who's called me his 'little indispensable' eversince I was four! If he was killed, and I hadn't had one last word withhim, I'd break my heart. Yes, I would! You English girls are socold--you laugh at me because I feel red-hot about things. "

"We're not cold really. I didn't understand, " said Loveday. "You nevertold me all this about your cousin. Does Miss Todd know he's just offfor the front?"

"Cousin Coralie said so in her letter. That's what made me so furious. Iwouldn't have asked to go to Petteridge just for the sake of a holiday;but when it's a case of seeing Lenox, perhaps for the last time, I'mdesperate. Rules are cruel things!"

"I do think Miss Todd might have made a special exception, " saidLoveday, hugging the agitated little figure that clung to her. "I'msure Mrs. Gifford would have let you go. It's because Miss Todd is new, and also because, when once she's said a thing, she sticks to it. Youwere kept to 'bounds'. "

"I know. But, Loveday, I'm going to break them this morning. I must saygood-bye to Lenox whatever happens. I'm going to cycle over toPetteridge--now don't talk, for I've planned it all out. I can climbdown the ivy, and I left Wendy's bicycle outside last night on purpose. I shall be back by half-past seven. "

The audacity of the proposal nearly took Loveday's breath away. 

"But--but----" she remonstrated. 

"No buts, " said Diana, getting up and putting on her tam-o'-shanter. 

"But, you silly child, you'll never do it in the time, and they won't beup when you get to Petteridge. "

"Won't they? I rather guess they will! I told Cousin Cora I was comingto breakfast at six o'clock, and they must send me back in the car, bicycle and all. "

"Did you put that in the letter you sent by the chauffeur?"

"Yes. Miss Todd didn't ask to read it. I reckon they'll have a nicelittle meal waiting. If I can manage to slip in here before the gongsounds for prayers, nobody need know a word about it except you, Loveday, and I trust you not to tell. "

"It's frightfully against my conscience, " faltered Loveday doubtfully. 

"Oh! Suppose you had a brother or a cousin of your own who was going outto the front, wouldn't you want to say just one word of good-bye?Especially when you hadn't seen him for a year! It isn't as if I weredoing anything that Father and Mother would be angry about. And CousinCora will send me back in the car. "

"It really is red-tape of Miss Todd, " murmured Loveday yieldingly. 

"Then you'll promise? Oh, good! What a sport you are! Help me on with mycoat. No, I don't need a scarf--it's quite warm. I must take my watch, though. "

The girls drew aside the curtains and looked out of the window. It wasonly about half-past four; the stars were shining, and there was a thin, horned moon hanging in the east, its radiant rim turned towards the spotwhere the day would break. No hint of dawn was yet in the air, thoughcurlews were calling from the meadows by the lake. Bushes and gardenpaths were plainly distinguished in the starlight. 

"It'll be light soon, " said Diana, "and, at any rate, I can see quitewell enough to ride. I shall just enjoy spinning along. "

"Be careful going down hills, " urged Loveday. "By the by, you're on theearly practising-list this morning--had you forgotten?"

"Oh, kafoozalum! So I am! Suppose Bunty comes to see why the piano'ssilent? Well, I can't help it! I'm going! Do the best you can for me, won't you?"

The close ivy which grew up the side of the house had stems as thick astent-posts. Diana let herself down over the sill, found a footing, anddescended hand over hand with the agility of a middy. Wendy's bicyclewas leaning against the wall at the bottom. She took it, and wavedgood-bye to Loveday, then walked along the side-path that led to thegate. A minute later she was free-wheeling down the hill that ledthrough the village in the direction of Petteridge Court. Loveday, shaking her head, went back to bed. 

"I'm thankful I'm not a prefect, or I should have felt bound to stopher, " she reflected. "If I'd had a brother or a cousin whom I hadn'tseen for a year, and who was just off to the front, I declare I'd havedone it myself. I don't blame her! But there'll be a row if Buntydoesn't hear her scales going. "

Exactly at a quarter to eight o'clock a Daimler car whisked through thevillage, and stopped by the gate of Pendlemere Abbey. A small figurehopped from it, and the chauffeur handed out a bicycle, then drove awayat full speed. Girl and bicycle crept through the laurels to the sidedoor, whence the former fled upstairs like a whirlwind. From theintermediates' room came the strains of the Beethoven sonata with whichLoveday was at present wrestling. Diana, wrenching off coat and hat inher bedroom, paused to listen. 

"Bless her!" she muttered. "She's actually gone and taken my place! Whatan absolute trump she is!"

It was not until morning school was over that the confederates had theslightest chance to compare notes. 

"Well, did you see him?" asked Loveday, when at last they met in theirbedroom to brush their hair for dinner. 

Diana's eyes filled with tears. 

"Yes, and Cousin Cora said she was glad I came. She lost her own boy, you know--he went out with the American Red Cross, and was killed when aZepp. Bombed the hospital. That's two years ago now. I wouldn't havemissed saying good-bye to Lenox for worlds. I'd quite a nice ride toPetteridge. It got light directly, and the hills looked beautiful in thedawn. Loveday, you did my practising for me!"

"Not exactly _for_ you! I took your half-hour, and you must take mineinstead, from half-past four till tea-time. "

"Right-o! But did Bunty come in?"

"Yes; and I told her I wanted to go out with Nesta this afternoon. So Ido. "

"You don't think anybody suspects?"

"Not a soul!"

Diana came close, and laid a hand on her room-mate's arm. 

"Loveday, I'll never forget what you've done for me to-day--_never_! IfI ever get the chance to do anything for you in return, you bet I'll doit, no matter _what_ it costs me! You've been a real mascot. There isn'ta girl in the school who'd have played up better, certainly not amongthe seniors. I do think you're just ripping! Did Bunty look _very_surprised to see you at the piano?"

"She did, rather; but I asked her if Nesta and I might have an exeatthis afternoon to go to the Vicarage. Mrs. Fleming gave us an openinvitation, you know, to come and see her sketches. "

"What a brain! You really are too lovely!" chuckled Diana. 

CHAPTER VII

Land Girls

With the bond of such a secret between them, Diana and Loveday cementeda firm friendship. To be sure, Loveday's conscience, which was of a veryexacting and inquisitorial description, sometimes gave her unpleasanttwinges like a species of moral toothache; but then the other self whichalso talked inside her would plead that it was only sporting to screen aschoolfellow, and that no one but a sneak could have done otherwise. Shesincerely hoped that Diana had escaped notice both going and returning, and that no busybody from the village would bring a report to Miss Todd. If the matter were to leak out, both girls would get into serioustrouble--Diana for running away, and her room-mate for aiding andabetting her escapade. That she was really in some danger on her accountgave Loveday an added interest in Diana. She began to be very fond ofher. The little American had a most lovable side for certain people, onwhom she bestowed the warmth of her affection, though she could be apixie to those who did not happen to please her. With the seniors ingeneral she was no favourite. She had more than one skirmish with theprefects, and was commonly regarded as a firebrand, ready at any momentto set alight the flame of insurrection among turbulent intermediatesand juniors. 

"Diana's at the bottom of any mischief that's going!" proclaimedGeraldine one day, after a battle royal over an absurd dispute about thetennis-court. 

"And the worst of it is, she makes Wendy just as bad!" agreed Hilarywarmly. 

"Wendy wasn't exactly a saint before Diana came, " put in Loveday. 

"Oh, you always stand up for Diana! I can't think what you see in her--acheeky little monkey, I call her!" Geraldine was still ruffled. 

"She has her points, though. "

"She'll get jolly well sat upon, if she doesn't take care, " mutteredGeraldine, who held exalted notions as to the dignity of prefects. 

It was at the beginning of the second week in October that Miss Todd, inwhose brain ambitious projects of education for the production of the"super-girl" had been fermenting, announced the first of her radicalchanges. She had not undertaken it without much consultation withparents, and many letters had passed backwards and forwards on thesubject. Most, however, had agreed with her views, and it had beendecided that at any rate the experiment was to be tried. Pendlemere, which so far had concentrated entirely on the Senior Oxford Curriculumand accomplishments, was to add an agricultural side to its course. There was to be a lady teacher, fresh from the Birchgate HorticulturalCollege, who would start poultry-keeping and bee-keeping on the latestscientific principles, and would plant the garden with crops ofvegetables. She could have a few land workers to assist her, and thegirls, in relays, could study her methods. Miss Todd, who in choosing acareer had hesitated between teaching and horticulture, snatched at theopportunity of combining the two. She was bubbling over with enthusiasm. In imagination she saw Pendlemere a flourishing Garden Colony, settingan educational example to the rest of the scholastic world. Her girls, trained in both the scientific and practical side of agriculture inaddition to their ordinary curriculum, would be turned out equipped forall contingencies, either of emigration, or a better Britain. Sheconsidered their health would profit largely. She explained her views tothem in detail, painting rose-coloured pictures of the delights in storefor them in the spring and summer. The girls, very much thrilled at theprospect, dispersed to talk it over. 

"Is Pendlemere to be a sort of farm, then?" asked Wendy. 

"Looks like it, if we're to keep hens and bees, and grow all our ownvegetables! Bags me help with the chickens. I love them when they're allyellow, like canaries. Toddlekins hinted something about launching outinto a horse if things prospered. "

"A horse! Goody, what fun!" exulted Diana. "I just _adore_ horses! Bagsme help with stable-work, then. I'd groom it instead of learning mygeography or practising scales. I say, I call this a ripping idea!"

"Don't congratulate yourself too soon, " qualified Magsie. "You'llprobably find the geography and the scales are tucked in somehow. Allthe same, I think it sounds rather sporty. "

"It will be a change, at any rate, and we'll feel we're marching withthe times. "

"When does the 'back-to-the-land' teacher come?"

"On Friday, I believe. "

Miss Chadwick, the graduate of Birchgate Horticultural College, who wasto run the new experiment, arrived at the end of the week, and broughttwo students as her assistants. They were a fresh, jolly-looking trio, with faces rosy from open-air work, and serviceable hands which caused aconsiderable flutter among those of the school who went in for manicure. At tea-time they talked gaily of onion-beds, intensive culture, irrigation, proteids, white Wyandottes, trap-nests, insecticides, sugar-beets, and bacteria. Miss Todd, keenly interested, joined in theconversation with the zeal of a neophyte; Miss Beverley, thenature-study side of whose education had been neglected, and whoscarcely knew a caterpillar from an earthworm, followed with the uneasyair of one who is out of her depth; the school, eating theirbread-and-butter and blackberry jam, sat and listened to the talk at thetop end of the table. 

"It sounds rather brainy, " commented Diana in a whisper. 

"Yes, " replied Wendy, also in a subdued tone. "Poor old Bunty'sfloundering hopelessly. Did you hear her ask if they were going tocultivate cucumbers in the open? I nearly exploded! I believe she thinkspineapples grow on pine-trees. She's trying _so_ hard to look as if sheknows all about it. I'll be sorry for the infant cabbages if she has thecare of them. "

"It wouldn't be her job, surely. "

"I'd agitate for a 'Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Vegetables'if it were. I believe I'm going to adore Miss Chadwick! She looks sosporty. She wrinkles up her nose when she laughs, just like a babydoes. "

"The little dark student with the freckles is my fancy. "

"Oh! I like the other, with the bobbed hair. "

Miss Chadwick, with her assistants Miss Carr and Miss Ormrod, brought anew and decidedly breezy element into the school. They spent Saturday inreviewing the premises, and on Monday they set to work. The girls, whoas yet were only in the position of onlookers, watched the operations, much thrilled. All sorts of interesting things began to arrive: portablehen-houses packed in sections, chicken-coops, rolls of galvanized wirenetting, iron stakes, the framework of a greenhouse, and a whole cargoof tools. The three enterprising ladies seemed to have some knowledge ofcarpentry, and at once began to fit parts together and erect sheds. Their sensible land costumes excited admiration and envy. 

"It's what I mean to do when I grow up, " resolved Magsie. "Did you seethe way Miss Carr ran up that ladder? And she's begun to thatch the roofso neatly. She does it far better than that old man from the village whopotters about. I'm just yearning to try my hand at thatching. I wishMiss Carr would let me!"

While they were busy getting the place in order, Miss Chadwick and herassistants declined all offers of inexperienced help, assuring the girlsthat they would have their "jobs" given them later on, when there wastime to teach them. This did not at all content the enthusiastic spiritswho were burning to throw lessons to the winds and spend their days inmixing putty, lime-washing hen-houses, and fixing up wire netting. Theyhung about disconsolately, snatching at such opportunities of assistanceas holding ladders or handing nails. 

"You _might_ let me tar the roof of the chicken-coop, " begged Wendy. "I'd just love to let it all squelch on, and I adore the smell!"

But Miss Carr, who the day before had rashly allowed Diana the use ofthe lime-wash pail, was firm in her refusal. 

"I haven't time to show you how, and I don't want things spoilt. Putdown that tar-brush, Wendy! If you get smears on your skirt, you'llnever get them off again. "

"I don't see where _we_ come in!" groused Wendy. "I thought we were tolearn agriculture. "

"You won't learn it by dabbing tar on the end of your nose, " laughedMiss Carr. 

In the course of a few weeks, however, the preliminary stages were over. Some fowl-houses and runs were finished, and their feathered occupantsarrived and took possession. A consignment of spades, rakes, and hoeswas delivered by the carrier, and arranged by the students in the newtool-shed. Miss Carr announced herself ready to begin her course ofinstruction. To the girls the crowning-point of the preparations was theopening of several large boxes posted from a London shop. They containedtwenty land costumes in assorted sizes. The excitement of trying them onwas immense. Twenty little figures in smocks and gaiters went caperingabout the school, wild with the fun of the new experiment, and feelingthemselves enthusiastic "daughters of the soil". 

"It was A1 of Toddlekins to let us have a 'land uniform'. "

"Couldn't do any decent work without, I should say. "

"I believe Miss Carr insisted on it. "

"Sensible woman!"

"It feels so delightfully business-like. "

"Shall we win green armlets?"

"I'm just dying to start and dig!"

"And I want to climb a tree!"

Miss Chadwick and her students set to work methodically. They gaveclassroom lectures on the principles of agriculture, and practicaldemonstrations in the garden. The girls learnt the constituents ofsoils, and also how to trench; the theory of scientific poultry-raising, and the actual mixing of the food. They prepared plots that would besown in the spring, cleared and rolled paths, planted bulbs, and dividedroots of perennials; they sawed wood, lifted rhubarb, and helped toprepare a mushroom bed. It was all new and exciting, and there was aspice of patriotism mixed up with it. They felt that they were trainingto be of some service to the community. 

"It's fearfully weird, " said Wendy, writing her essay on _Insect Pests_, "to have to find out whether your insect has a biting or a suckingmouth, so as to know whether you must spray the beastie direct, or applypoison to the plant. I'd feel rather like a dentist examining theirjaws. "

"I heard of an editor in America, " laughed Magsie, "who got his 'answersto correspondents' mixed up, and in reply to 'how to kill a plague ofcrickets' put 'rub their gums gently with a thimble, and if feverish, administer Perry's Teething Powders'; while to 'Anxious Mother ofTwins', he gave the advice: 'Burn tobacco on a hot shovel, and thelittle pests will hop about and die as dead as door-nails'. "

"You always fix these yarns on America, " pouted Diana. "It sounds agreat deal more like one of your British editors. "

To some of the girls the greatest event of all was the arrival of thehorse and trap which Miss Todd had decided to add to her establishment. Pendlemere was some distance from the station and from Glenbury, thenearest town, and she thought it would be a great convenience to beindependent of carriers and able to fetch supplies for themselves. Diana, keenly interested, was allowed by Miss Ormrod to make theacquaintance of "Baron", the pretty chestnut cob, and even to help inhis toilet. Diana loved horses, and used the curry-comb with enthusiasm, talking to Baron in what she called "horse language"--a string ofendearing terms that on the whole he seemed to appreciate. 

"I'd just adore to drive him!" she sometimes hinted; but Miss Ormrodalways ignored the hint, and, instead of offering her the reins, nevereven invited her into the cart. Diana would stand watching wistfullywhen Baron was harnessed, and the governess car would start out on apilgrimage to the town. She considered that a practical part of hereducation was being obviously neglected. 

"If we could each keep a pony and go for rides on the hills, it would beripping!" she sighed. 

"Goody! What a circus we'd look!" said Vi, who did not take so kindly tohorsemanship, and preferred a car. 

Early in November, Miss Todd, having some urgent business to transact, went up to London for a few days, leaving Pendlemere in the hands ofMiss Beverley. The school jogged along without any mishaps during herabsence. She was expected home upon the Thursday. On Wednesdayafternoon, which was a holiday, Miss Chadwick, Miss Carr, Miss Ormrod, and Miss Hampson mounted bicycles, and rode away with a party of seniorsto Glenbury. The juniors, by special invitation from Mrs. Fleming, wentto tea at the Vicarage. Two intermediates were in bed with a mild formof "flu", and the remainder amused themselves as they liked best. Peggysat indoors, doing pen-painting; Vi brought stones for a rockery; Sadieand Magsie played a set of tennis on the cinder court; Diana and Wendy, who had asked to join the cycle party, and had in consequence received asevere snub from Geraldine, wandered about the garden like unquietspirits. 

"It's the limit to be an intermediate!" groused Wendy gloomily. "Seniorsand juniors get all the fun! Did you ever hear of _our_ form being takento do anything special while the others stopped at school? Of course youdidn't, because we never are! The seniors get first innings, and we onlyhave the crumbs that are left, and those juniors are treated like babiesthough they're nearly as tall as we are. I'm fed up with it!"

"We'd better have a demonstration--parade the corridor with a placard:'Fair play for Intermediates! Equal treats for all!'" suggested Diana, who was always ready with ideas. 

"Much good it would do us! We should only get sat upon by everybody. Hullo! Here's Peggy wandering down. What's the matter with you, chucky?You look disturbed. "

"I hate coming out in a wind, " said Peggy, holding her hands over herrumpled hair. "I say, did you, or did you not see Miss Chadwick, MissOrmrod, _and_ Miss Carr bike off to Glenbury? Are they all three gone?"

"Of course they're gone!"

"You saw them with your own eyes?"

"Helped to blow up their tyres, which we thought was really saintly, when we weren't asked to go with them, " said the still injured Wendy. 

"Well, it's a pretty go they're all off! Bunty's just had a telegramfrom Toddlekins. She's coming back this afternoon, and wants the trap tomeet the four-thirty train. "

"She should! She's in a precious hurry to leave her beloved London. Whence this thusness?"

"I don't know. She's coming, at any rate, " said Peggy, rather crossly. "Bunty sent me to find out if everybody had really gone. Toddlekins willhave to get a taxi, that's all. Whew! I'm being blown to bits! I want toget back to my pen-painting. I'm making a birthday present for mycousin. Ta-ta!"

Diana stood watching Peggy's retreating figure as the latter raced upthe garden and into the house. 

"Toddlekins will be rather savage not to be met, " she commented. 

"Yes; she's so keen on the trap, and the amount it saves in taxis andcarriers. "

"It does seem rough on her, especially when she's sent a telegram. Lookhere, old thing, let's take it to meet her ourselves!"

"What? You and me?"

"Why not? I can drive, and I know how to harness Baron. I have helped toput him in the trap heaps of times. Bunty? Best not tell her anythingabout it; she's always such a scared rabbit, and she'd only have fits!"

Wendy's eyes shone like stars. 

"It _would_ be a stunt! Fancy driving in state to the station andfetching Toddlekins! She'd be pleased to save a taxi. "

"Bless her, she shall! We'll show her that her girls have some spiritand self-reliance at a crisis. It's only making a practicaldemonstration of our new agricultural course! What's the use of learningif you can't apply it at the right moment? Run and fetch our coats andhats and gloves, that's a cherub, while I go and tell Baron all aboutit. "

Wendy, much thrilled, and fired with the excellence of Diana's notion, went indoors, and, taking elaborate precautions not to meet anybody, secured outdoor garments worthy of the occasion. She rolled them in aUnion Jack for camouflage, and bore them off to the stable. 

"I've brought 'bests', " she said. "Toddlekins wouldn't thank to be metby two Cinderellas!"

Diana was standing with her arms thrown round Baron's neck, whisperingsweet nothings into his twitching ear. If he did not understand thesubstance of her remarks, he realized the force of her affection, andkept rubbing his nose against her shoulder in a sort of caress, verygently catching her jersey with his lips and pulling it. 

"I've told him, and he's delighted to go, " declared Diana. "He's justpining for a run. It's so dull for him standing here with no one to talkto. It takes away his appetite. He'll enjoy his supper twice as muchwhen he comes back. Won't you, dear old man?"

"We mustn't be all day about starting. If you've finished making love tohim, let's get out the trap. "

"Right you are!"

Diana was perfectly capable of accomplishing what she had undertaken. She took down the harness, led Baron out into the yard, and proceeded toput him into the shafts in quite a professional fashion. She looked overall the straps, fetched the whip, donned the garments which Wendy hadbrought, and proclaimed herself ready. 

"We'll go out quietly by the back way, " she chuckled. "Open the gate;that's a mascot!"

There was nobody to say them nay, so in a few minutes they were trottingbriskly along the Glenbury Road. Diana was a capital little Jehu, andheld the reins with a practised hand. Baron, perfectly conscious of whowas driving him, behaved admirably. The girls felt their spirits athigh-water mark. They had certainly scored over the rest of the school, and secured a superior jaunt to anybody. Moreover, it was a pleasantafternoon to be out. The weather, which for some days had been damp, hadchanged to windy. Long, dappled mare's-tail clouds stretched across thepale November sky, and every now and then the sun shone out betweenthem. The glory of the autumn tints had been blown away, but theinfinitely intertwined, almost leafless boughs of the woodlands had abeauty apart from foliage. Bushes covered with crimson masses of hips orhaws foretold a hard winter; birds twittered restlessly in thehedgerows; and the withered leaves came whirling along the road with ascurrying, rustling sound as of the little footsteps of innumerablefairies. A seed-vessel of the sycamore, flying like a miniatureaeroplane, struck Diana full in the face. She picked it up as it fell onher coat, and put it in her pocket. 

"I shall keep it as my mascot, " she said. "It was evidently meant forme, so it will bring me luck. Do you believe in luck?"

"Very much, sometimes, but I don't often have any. "

"We've got it to-day, though. Baron's going splendidly. I think the windexcites him. You wouldn't believe he'd been out every day this week. He's as fresh as a daisy. What's the time? I can't get to my watch. "

"Quarter past four. "

"Gee whiz! We must hurry ourselves. We've to be waiting at the stationby half-past. Baron, can you put on a spurt?"

They were bowling along a good macadam road and down hill, so that Barondid not object to the extra strain put upon his legs. The spire ofGlenbury Church loomed ahead; in a few more minutes they began to seethe roofs of the houses. They crossed the bridge over the river, turnedthe corner by the King's Arms Inn, and were trotting at a good pacealong Castle Street, when suddenly Wendy's side of the trap dipped down. There was a horrible jarring and grinding, and horse and governess carseemed to be trying to practise sliding. With great presence of mind, and also strength of arm, Diana pulled Baron up. 

"We've lost our wheel!" she gasped. 

A crowd immediately collected round the little carriage, which stoodlop-sided in the gutter. One passer-by held the horse, another helpedDiana and Wendy out; a boy came running up with the wheel that haddanced across the street. People stood at shop doors and stared. Sympathetic voices asked if the girls were hurt. Several connoisseurswere feeling Baron's legs. In that most critical and agitatingsituation, who should be seen riding up from the town but a group of tencyclists, led by Miss Chadwick, and displaying the familiar hatbands ofPendlemere School. Diana and Wendy turned the colour of boiled beetroot. The cyclists dismounted in a body, and Miss Chadwick, staggered at theamazing spectacle of the wreck before her, took over instant possession. She tilted her bicycle against a lamp-post, sent a boy for a blacksmith, and began to unharness Baron. When he was clear of the shafts, and beingled away by a friendly ostler, she demanded explanations. Diana suppliedthem briefly. Miss Chadwick looked at her keenly, but forbore to commentbefore the crowd. 

"Miss Ormrod and I will stay in town and come back with Miss Todd, " shesaid, with compressed lips. "You and Wendy can ride our bicycles. MissCarr, will you please go as quickly as you can to the station andexplain to Miss Todd what has happened. The train must be in by now. Ithink, Miss Hampson, you'd better take the girls on. "

It was ignominious to be thus dismissed, and to be forced to mountmachines and cycle back to school, instead of having the prouddistinction of driving the head mistress. Diana and Wendy felt theirfeathers fall considerably, especially when they contemplated the fullerexplanations which must inevitably follow. 

It was quite dark before Miss Todd arrived in the mended cart. She andMiss Chadwick and Miss Ormrod had tea together in the drawing-room. 

Later in the evening Diana and Wendy received orders to reportthemselves in the study. They entered with sober faces. Outside, a bandof thrilled intermediates, who had listened with bated breath to theaccount of the adventure, hung about and discussed possible punishments. Miss Todd was not a mistress to be trifled with, and the trap was herlatest toy. It was nearly half an hour before the door opened, and twovery subdued and crushed specimens of girlhood issued, mopping theireyes. 

"She says Miss Chadwick knew the wheel wasn't safe, and had gone to geta fresh pin for it, " volunteered Wendy with a gulp. "But how could _we_know that? She doesn't believe in practical demonstrations of ourlessons, or in self-reliance; she says we've just to do what we aretold. She got quite raggy when Diana mentioned it. We mayn't go near thestable for a week, and we've each to learn ten pages of poetry byheart. "

"Ten pages! What an atrocious shame!" sympathized Vi. "It'll take allyour recreation time this week. "

"I know it will, and I wanted to do some sewing. "

"She never said _what_ poetry, " put in Diana, her moist eyes suddenlytwinkling. "I'll learn something out of the _Comic Reciter_--the verymaddest and craziest one I can manage to find. "

CHAPTER VIII

Armistice Day

Diana had a fairly retentive memory, and learned poetry without muchtrouble. By far the hardest part of her punishment was to be forbiddento visit the stable for a week. She was sure Baron would miss her, andthat, though he might receive other offerings of bread and carrots, hewould be looking out and pricking his ears in vain for the friend withwhom he had grown to be on such intimate terms. 

Miss Chadwick, much annoyed at the accident to the cart, treated Dianadistantly. Instead of smiling at her when she came into the room, shewould look round her or over her head, and flash recognition to somebodyelse. It was humiliating to find herself out of favour, especially as itwas noticed and commented on by her form-mates, all of whom werecandidates for Miss Chadwick's friendship. Wendy, toiling away at herpunishment task and grumbling at its difficulty, was not at all acheerful companion. Moreover, it rained--rained for two days and nightswithout stopping; rained as it only can rain in a northern andmountainous district in the month of November. The fells were coveredwith mist, rivers ran down the garden paths, and from the eaves came acontinual and monotonous drip-drip-drip. Diana, whose letters from Parishad been delayed, and who was home-sick in consequence, vibrated betweena fit of the blues and a wild outbreak of spirits. She had reached thestage when she must either laugh or cry. She wandered restlessly roundthe schoolroom on Saturday afternoon, while the others were amusingthemselves with reading, painting, or sewing. 

"What a quiet set you are!" she raged. "Anyone would take you for 'MissPinkerton's Academy for Young Ladies'! Why can't you wake up? This isthe dullest hole I've ever been in in my life. Magsie, stop that eternalsewing, and be sporty! You look like a model for 'gentle maidenhood'. Iwant to stick a pin into you, to see what would happen. "

"Draw it mild, Stars and Stripes, " answered Magsie, biting off the endof her cotton. "And be careful about experiments with pins, or somethingmore may happen than you quite bargain for. "

"I don't care! Anything for an excitement! I want some fun, and there'llbe a shindy if I don't get it. Wendy! Vi! Sadie! Do brace up and besports! Let's go on the upper landing and let off steam. It's betterthan moping here. "

Diana, by sheer force of will, carried the day, detached her friendsfrom their several occupations, and bore them, three steps at a time, upthe stairs to the top story. The upper landing was long, and had apolished oak floor; it looked gloomy on this wet afternoon, and the rainmade a continual patter on the roof. In Diana's eyes, however, itafforded a field for enterprise. 

"I've a gorgeous idea!" she purred. "We'll pretend the floor's askating-rink. I've borrowed Loveday's roller skates, and we'll take itin turns. "

That roller skates were hardly meant for indoor amusement did not occurto the girls. They agreed with enthusiasm. In order to share thepleasure Vi and Sadie each buckled one on, and began a series of glides, punctuated by pushes from the other foot. Wendy and Magsie, not to beoutdone, began to slide down the polished floor, and Tattie, who hadpowers of invention, fetched a cake of soap and a sponge, and perfectedtheir activities by making a slippery course along the boards. 

"It's like Alpine sports, " exulted Wendy, taking a turn with one of theskates, and skimming at top speed. "Can't you just imagine you're inSwitzerland? I want to make snowballs. Oh! why can't we do sometoboganning? I'd like to go tearing down a hill on a bob-sleigh. Itwould be priceless. "

"You shall do next best to it, my child, " said Diana cheerily. "Trustyour granny to find the way for you. I've coasted indoors before now. Wait a second, and you'll see!"

She disappeared, and in a short time returned with her drawing-board. 

"You just squat on this, " she explained, "and you go skimming down thestairs like a water-chute. It'll be prime!"

"O-o-o-oh!"

"You _are_ priceless!"

"Great is Diana of the Americans!"

The improvised bob-sleigh worked admirably, and if it happened to catch, there was always the banister to clutch at. Its popularity eclipsed eventhat of the soap-slide and the roller skates. The fun waxed fast andfurious, not to say noisy. Bumpings and bursts of laughter began to echodownstairs on to the lower stories. Miss Hampson, coming to unlock thejam-cupboard in preparation for tea, stood for a moment in the corridor, listening like a pointer. Then she thrust the key into her pocket anddashed to the upper regions, just in time to behold Wendy, with scarletcheeks and flying hair, coasting down the stairs on a drawing-board. Fora moment Miss Hampson was without words. She stared, gasping, at Wendy, who hurriedly picked up both herself and the drawing-board, and stood atattention. The sporting party on the upper landing would gladly havemelted away had there been any possible cover, but there was not. Vi andSadie had not even time to kick off their roller skates. Miss Hampson'skeen eyes took in every detail of the trails on the polished oak floor, and the soap-slide. Then they focused on Diana. 

"I can imagine who's been the instigator of all this!" she saidsharply. "We've never been accustomed to such doings at Pendlemerebefore. Miss Todd will be appalled at the damage you've done to thefloor. Go downstairs to the schoolroom at once, and remember that thislanding is prohibited in future. I'm astonished that all of you don'tknow better!"

It was on the following Monday that tidings of the armistice wereproclaimed. The girls heard the church bells ringing when they were inthe middle of morning lessons, and unanimously "downed books andpencils" and trooped to the front door, where Miss Todd was verifyingthe good news from the butcher boy. For five minutes the school wentwild; everybody joined hands and danced in a circle on the drive, shouting "Hurrah!" After all the long suspense and anxiety the reliefwas stupendous. There was hardly a girl who had not some relation at thefront over whose safety she might now rejoice. That the shadow of morethan four years had at length been removed, seemed almost too good to betrue. Miss Todd and Miss Beverley had gone indoors to find all theavailable stock of bunting; Miss Chadwick was already climbing on aladder up the porch to hang the Union Jack over the threshold. 

"We ought each to have a flag of our own, " said Geraldine, who wasintensely patriotic. "I'm going to ask Miss Todd if we may go and buysome. "

Wild schemes for celebrating the day floated in the air, varying from apicnic to a bonfire. 

"The ground is too wet yet for either, " decreed Geraldine. "How could wetramp over the fells when everything's a quagmire? And if you think youcan light a bonfire with damp wood, you're jolly well mistaken. We'llcollect sticks, and have one when they're dry. I plump for a flag-hunt. There must be some in the shops. "

Geraldine's suggestions were generally received with favour athead-quarters. Miss Todd felt that the school was fizzing over, and mustfind some outlet for its excitement. An expedition to Glenbury to buyflags seemed feasible. They could have an early lunch, and startimmediately afterwards. Those who possessed bicycles could ride, and therest could walk a mile to Athelton village and catch the motor-omnibuswhich passed there. Everybody was satisfied with the arrangement, andthe cyclists dispersed to oil their machines and pump tyres. Miss Toddand Miss Chadwick were going in the trap; even Spot, with a bow of red, white, and blue ribbon tied to his collar, was to accompany the party. 

Diana did not possess a bicycle, so Wendy, out of sheer good-fellowship, decided to lend hers to Sadie and to take the omnibus, so that sheherself might go in company with her chum. Nine girls and a mistressstarted off in good time for Athelton, slightly in advance of thecyclists, who expected to meet them in Glenbury. Even in the village ofPendlemere and the little hamlet of Athelton people were making peacerejoicings: flags hung from windows, and children ran about blowing tintrumpets, whistles, and mouth-organs. A string of small urchins hadimprovised a band, and paraded proudly along, banging on tin trays andold kettles, and yelling the National Anthem. Men talked eagerlytogether outside the post office; women stood at their doors andwatched, some radiant and excited, and some quieter, with a heartachebehind the smile, as they thought of those lads who would not comemarching home with the others. 

The wild weather of the last few days seemed to have rolled away withthe war clouds. The sky was flecked with blue, and the trees by theroadside were hung all over with drops that sparkled in the sun likejewels. The brook that ran down from the fells was tumbling along in agreat brown stream, thundering under the bridge; robins, hopping in thewet hedgerows, twittered their plaintive little autumn song. A womanpicked a marigold from her battered, rain-sodden garden, and handed itover the wall to Wendy. Everybody seemed to want to speak, even tostrangers, and to tell how many of their relations had served in thewar. 

At last the omnibus, ten minutes late, came rumbling along, and stoppedto pick up passengers. The school scrambled in, and with difficultyfound places. It was a jolting journey, much crammed up among countrypeople with baskets, but it was fun, even though the rattling almostshook them off their seats, for all the passengers seemed sogood-tempered and jolly. On their arrival at Glenbury they found thetown _en fête_, with bunting hanging across the streets, and largebanners decorating the public buildings. The pavements were so full thatthe crowd overflowed into the road. The cyclist members of thePendlemere party had arrived first, and had already bought flags, whichthey pinned in their hats. The motor-omnibus contingent rushed offimmediately to secure any that were left, and to try to get some sweets. Miss Todd, who had put up the cart at the Queen's Hotel, met them asthey were emerging from the confectioner's, sucking pear-drops andtoffee. 

"You're lucky, for sweets are scarce, " she commented. "Thanks verymuch--I won't have one just now. Where are the others? Can you findthem? I'm going to take you all up the church tower to get a bird's-eyeview of the town. It will look nice to-day, with the flags out, and weought to be able to see for miles round. "

Glenbury Church was almost as large as a cathedral, and possessed asteeple which was a landmark for the neighbourhood. It was possible toascend as far as the flying buttresses, and to walk round a stonecauseway that encircled the tower just where the spire tapered up. Theentrance was in the nave, through a small oak door studded with nails. The verger, aged, wheezy, and inclined to conversation, admitted them. 

"You'll get a fine view, " he said huskily; "you ought to be able to seethe prison and the cemetery, and, with luck, the lunatic asylum as well. It's over amongst the trees to the east of Chatford. You can't miss itif the sun's shining on the roof. There's been a-many folks up to-day. "

The narrow corkscrew staircase was old and worn, and seemed to twistround and round in an absolutely endless ascent as the girls toiled upits hundred-and-eighty-six steps. To add to their difficulties, partiesof people kept coming down, and the problem of passing was difficult; itcould only be accomplished by the school flattening itself against thewalls while the descending sightseers gingerly made their way round thenarrow centre of the staircase. Tiny lancet windows here and there letin streams of sunshine, but most of the pilgrimage was made in adecidedly "dim religious light". Everyone's knees were aching when atlast they emerged through a small door on to the causeway. They werestanding on a flat terrace edged by a stone parapet just tall enough toallow them to lean their arms on it and look over. Above them rose thespire, tapering thinner and thinner till its slender point ended in aweather-cock. Below, the town lay spread out like an architect's design. They could see the roofs of all the buildings, and the streets, and thelawns, and the pond in the park; all seemed viewed at an unusual angle, for they were gazing down on the tops of things. Round the townstretched miles of misty woods and fields, melting into the grey hazeof the fells. The objects of attraction mentioned by the verger--thejail, cemetery, and lunatic asylum--were not particularly conspicuous, and nobody was very anxious to localize them. The girls walked all roundthe causeway, so as to get the view at every point. 

"I suppose Pendlemere's over there?" said Diana, pointing a brown-glovedfinger in the direction of the fells. 

"Yes; you can see the road we came by in the 'bus, " explained Stuart. "It winds round by Athelton. There's a much shorter way back, though, ifwe were walking. Do you see that white farm-house on the hill above thepark? Well, you go through the fold-yard, across a field, and down alane, then there's a straight path over the moor, right to Pendlemere. It saves two miles at least. Hilary and Nesta and I walked it once withMiss Todd. "

"Dinky, I should guess. "

"Nice in summer, but it might be pretty wet now. "

Most of the girls agreed that coming down steps was rather worse thangoing up. Their ankles ached when they reached the bottom. The oldverger was taking the sixpences of another party of tourists, andtelling them, in his wheezy voice, to look out for the cemetery, thejail, and the lunatic asylum--to him evidently the three prime points ofinterest in the landscape. Spot, who had been fastened by his leash tothe railings outside, greeted the girls with noisy enthusiasm. Dianauntied him, and gave him a pear-drop. 

"Bless him! He wants a bit of candy as well as the rest of us. He's a'booful' dog with his patriotic ribbon on his collar. Stop barking, that's a cherub boy, or you'll drive your Auntie Diana crazy!"

There was a short interval of shopping after the excursion up the tower, and then Miss Todd pulled out her watch, compared it with the churchclock, and declared it was time to be returning. The motor-omnibus, which started from Shipham, five miles away, was due in Glenbury at aquarter to four. Miss Hampson marched her contingent to themarket-place, where it always stopped to pick up its passengers. Alreadyquite a crowd was waiting for it--people who had come in from theneighbouring villages to see the peace rejoicings. There was nopoliceman to insist on an orderly queue, so when the great scarletvehicle lumbered up, a wild scramble ensued. Some of the Pendlemeregirls were pushed in amongst the jostling throng, and some were elbowedout. Wendy, Diana, and Miss Hampson, at the tail-end of the crush, triedto scramble on to the step. The conductress, a brawny woman in uniform, stopped them. 

"Only room for one more, " she shouted; "and I can't take that dog!"

"But we'd stand!" entreated Miss Hampson piteously. 

"They're standing as it is! Can't take more than the 'bus is registeredfor, or we'd break down at the hills. Room for one! Which of you'scoming? Be quick! I can't wait all day!"

It was a matter that had to be decided in a moment. Miss Hampson, knowing that seven of her girls were already packed in the omnibus, feltthat she must go and escort them. She turned desperately to Wendy andDiana, and panted:

"Miss Todd won't have started yet. Run to the 'Queen's'. She'll take youback in the trap. "

Then she allowed herself to be hustled inside by the impatientconductress. 

The two girls left behind stood staring for a minute after theretreating omnibus. Spot, straining at his leash, barked his loudest. 

"Well, I don't envy them their drive. They're packed like sardines, "commented Wendy. 

"I guess we've got the best of it, " agreed Diana. 

Evidently the next thing to be done was to walk to the Queen's Hotel andreport themselves, to Miss Todd. Diana was even beginning to speculatewhether she could advance any possible argument, such as a desire tosave strain on her mistress's arm, whereby she might induce thePrincipal to allow her to take the reins and drive Baron home. They wentalong Westgate, and turned the corner of Hart Street; in another twominutes they would have been in Castle Street. Then fate interfered. From a narrow alley on the right came sounds resembling explosives, andthree small boys, yelling gleefully, shot out into the road. Wendy, pausing to ascertain the cause of the excitement, ejaculated the oneword, "Squibs!"

"Gee whiz! You don't mean to say they've got fireworks!" exclaimedDiana. "Then I'm not going back till I've bought some. Here, sonny!"--catching a bare-headed urchin by the shoulder--"tell me whereyou got those squibs, and I'll give you my last bit of candy. Mrs. Cobbes's in Beck Street? Where's Beck Street? Is it far? You ought tocome and show us for that big bit of candy. "

"Can't! Got to go 'ome to my tea, " returned the youth, whose small teethwere already in the toffee. "Cobbes's is down there!" pointing an armlike a sign-post in the direction of a by-street. 

Diana and Wendy did not even wait to discuss the expediency of thusside-tracking. The magic lure of fireworks drew them on, and with oneaccord they trotted off to seek Mrs. Cobbes's shop. It took a littlehunting about and asking to find it; and then Mrs. Cobbes was stout andslow, and seemed to need an eternity of time to wrap up their purchasesin an old piece of newspaper. 

"We shall have to hurry!" said Diana, emerging at last, hugging herparcel, and dragging Spot away from the pursuit of an impudent andprovocative tabby cat, with a torn ear, that was spitting at him fromthe railings. 

They did hurry. They nearly ran up Jessamine Street and Vine Street, and clattered up the steps behind the post office into Castle Street, and tacked through the crowd into the yard of the Queen's Hotel. A wholerow of conveyances was standing with shafts down, but the familiargoverness car was not among them. Perhaps it had been put inside thecoach-house. 

"Miss Todd's trap, did you say?" replied the ostler, removing thefag-end of a cigarette from his lips. "Why, she's gone! I harnessed heronly five minutes ago!"

Here was a blow indeed! They had never expected Miss Todd to drive awaywithout them, though, considering that she did not know they had beenleft behind by the omnibus, she was scarcely to be blamed for doing so. The two girls looked serious as they walked into the street again. Somehow they felt aggrieved. 

"If the rest haven't started, Magsie and Vi might take us behind them ontheir bicycles, " suggested Wendy dubiously. "Hodson's would know ifthey've gone. They were to call for some parcels there. "

It proved a forlorn hope. The girl behind the counter assured them thata party on bicycles, wearing brown tam-o'-shanters, had come and claimedtheir purchases, and ridden off up the street ringing their bells. Thenext motor-omnibus would come through at seven. It was always crowded, and no doubt would be particularly full to-night. 

"There's nothing else for it, Di--we shall have to walk, " said Wendyblankly. 

"Whew! It's a pretty good step. "

"Six miles. "

"Je-hoshaphat!"

"Well, it's no use waiting for the 'bus. We should never get places. "

"Let's take that short cut that Stuart was talking about. She said itsaves two miles. "

"What a brain wave! It's only a quarter past four. We'd be home longbefore dark. You can walk four miles an hour, can't you?"

"Ra-ther!"

So they turned across the park, and up the hill to the white farm, andthrough the fold-yard, and over the field, and along the lane on to theopen moor. They felt decidedly pleased with themselves, for it was farnicer here than plodding along the high road. The ground was not so wetas Stuart had prognosticated; indeed the path was quite firm and welltrodden, and in parts was even paved with stones. Spot, released fromhis leash, careered about like a mad creature. Diana could not helpdancing a few steps, and Wendy, though she was growing hungry, stoppedgrousing to admire the view. The sun, a red ball among grey masses ofmist, was sinking behind the fells, and a golden glow tipped the brown, withered heather. The whole atmosphere seemed to reflect peace. Overhead, little radiant clouds stretched themselves into the semblanceof angels' wings moving lightly across the evening sky. To watch themwas like gazing at the portals of a heavenly world. 

The girls walked along as briskly as they could, but on the roughmoorland path it was impossible to keep the pace at four miles an hour. They were going uphill, and, unless they went in single file, one ofthem, owing to the narrowness of the track, was obliged to keep steppinginto the heather. At the top of the crest they dipped down again into ahigh, narrow valley between two fells. It was swampy here, and in placesthere were quite wide pieces of water to jump across. The path, whichhad been growing worse and worse, finally separated into a fork. Thegirls came to a halt, and stood looking first at one track, then at theother. They were in doubt which to choose, for each looked equally bad. They had turned so often that they had rather lost their sense oflocality. 

"I should think Pendlemere must be over there, " said Wendy, pointing tothe right, but looking frankly puzzled. 

"Well, you know the place better than I do, " answered Diana, followingher lead. 

So they went to the right, through a small thicket of hazel-bushes, oversome rocks, and on up the bleak fell-side. The sun had disappeared, andthe little golden angels' wings had given place to sombre, grey clouds. It was growing distressingly dark. A spot or two of rain began to fall. The path, degenerated into a mere sheep track, was increasinglydifficult to trace. Though neither would admit it, both the girls feltuneasy. They could not recognize any familiar landmarks to show themtheir whereabouts. Suppose darkness came on, and found them stillwandering about on the moor?

"Do you think we've come the right way?" asked Diana at last. 

Wendy looked round in the fading light, hoping against hope to see thecorner of Pendlemere gleaming below her in the valley. By now itcertainly ought to be visible. Nothing in the shape of a lake, however, appeared in the landscape; only an interminable waste of brown heatherunder threatening rain-clouds. 

"No, " said Wendy, with a shake in her voice. "As a matter of fact, Ibelieve we're lost. "

Diana was plucky as a rule, but she was very tired now, and hungry aswell. Two somethings that may have been rain-drops splashed down hercheeks; she turned her face away from Wendy as she wiped them off. 

"What's to be done?" she asked huskily. 

"Go back, I suppose. Goodness knows where this will lead to!"

"We ought to have taken that other turning. "

"It's too dark to go that way now. We'd better get back to Glenbury, andtry for the 'bus. "

Very soon the girls realized that it was getting too dark even todistinguish the path at all. They stumbled blindly on through theheather, conscious only that they were going downhill, but whether theywere really retracing their steps or not, it was impossible to tell. Spot, whose spirits had failed him, followed at their heels. Faster andfaster fell the darkness; the girls linked arms to avoid gettingseparated. They were both thoroughly frightened. Would they be obligedto spend the night upon the moor? If there were only some means offinding the way back to Glenbury!

Suddenly, a long distance in front of them, a light flashed out, asthough a candle had been placed in a cottage window. Hope revived. Ifonly they could reach some human habitation, they could ask to bedirected. They dragged their tired feet along, splashing in the darkthrough puddles, sinking in soft ground, or stumbling over stones. Itseemed an interminable tramp before at last they struck the end of awall, and, feeling their way with their hands, groped along till theyreached a gate. The next moment they were rapping with their knuckles ona door. 

It was opened by a thin, middle-aged woman, who stared at them insuspicious amazement as they asked to be directed to Glenbury; then, seeing that they were only girls with their hair down their backs, shecautiously invited them to come in. They accepted thankfully. After thedark and the damp outside, the farm-kitchen seemed a haven of refuge. 

A little boy, who had been sitting by the fireside, sprang up at theirentrance, and faced them with wondering eyes. Something in the smallfigure seemed familiar. Diana's mind galloped rapidly back to a day inlate September when she had crawled along a tree-trunk across a racingtorrent, with a frightened, blue-jerseyed atom of humanity creepingbehind her. 

"Gee-whiz! I guess you're Harry!" she exclaimed heartily. 

The mental thermometer of the kitchen, which had stood at aboutfreezing-point, suddenly thawed into spring. Harry, recognizing hisformer friend in need, hastily explained to his mother, who turned tothe girls with a light in her face. 

"I've always wanted to thank you, " she said to Diana; "but I never knewwho it was who'd helped Harry home that day. Sit you down, both of you, by the fire. You'll let me make you a cup of tea?"

Rest, warmth, and tea were what the tired girls craved. They sat on thesettle, with a little round table in front of them, and ate the sconesand blackberry jam that with true northern hospitality were piled ontheir plates. Harry's father came in presently, and, after a whisperedconversation with his wife in the back-kitchen, offered to take alantern and escort the girls back to Pendlemere. 

"It's a goodish step, but you're rested now, maybe, and it's no userisking missing the 'bus at Glenbury, and having to walk it after all. "

A very tired Diana, and an equally weary Wendy arrived at the schooljust when Miss Todd was getting absolutely desperate about theirabsence. She had sent Miss Chadwick to Athelton to meet the seveno'clock omnibus, and the teacher had returned to report that they hadnot come on it. Miss Todd forbore to scold two such limp wrecks, andsent them straight upstairs, with orders for hot baths, bed, and basinsof bread-and-milk. Explanations were reserved for next day, and they didnot get off scot free by any means. Miss Todd had an aggravatinglymathematical mind. She calculated the time the omnibus left themarket-place, the exact moment when she herself started in the trap fromthe Queen's Hotel, the distance between these two given points, and inhow many minutes at the rate of not less than three miles an hour twoordinary walkers should accomplish it. The answer left ten whole minutesto spare, and of that ten minutes of the afternoon she demanded a strictaccount from Diana and Wendy. 

The sinners, whose bones still ached after their adventure, appeared insuch crushed spirits that they did not receive the entire scolding theirhead mistress had intended, and were for once dismissed with a caution. 

"She didn't say we mightn't go to the bonfire, " sneezed Wendy, on theirway down the passage. Wendy as usual had taken a cold in her head. 

"I kept the squibs dry, thank goodness!" sighed Diana. "Nobody knowsabout them yet, so we'll let them off as a surprise. Won't they all justjump when they hear them? I'm looking forward to that bonfire as theevent of my life!"

CHAPTER IX

Diana's English Christmas

Diana had fondly hoped that the armistice meant an immediate declarationof peace, that her father and mother would return post-haste fromFrance, take her away from Pendlemere, and cross at once to America, sothat they might spend Christmas in their own home. To her immensedisappointment, nothing so nice happened. The peace conferences werelengthy. Mr. And Mrs. Hewlitt remained in Paris, and did not even speakof booking passages to New York. They wrote instead to make arrangementsfor Diana's holidays in England. It was at first decided that she shouldspend the time with her cousins, the Burritts, but influenza broke outso badly at Petteridge Court that all in a hurry the plans had to bechanged. It ended in Diana passing Christmas with the Flemings atPendlemere Vicarage. So far she had scarcely realized Meg and ElsieFleming. They came to school daily, and she had seen them among thejuniors, and remarked that they were "sweet kids". She was now to meetthem at nearer acquaintance, and not only Meg and Elsie, but Monty, Neale, and Roger as well. 

They were an interesting and lively family, and after a preliminaryhalf-hour of painful politeness, they thawed over schoolroom tea, andadopted her into their midst. Monty, the eldest, was an eccentric, clever lad in spectacles, fond of making scientific and chemicalexperiments, which generally ended in odours that caused the others tohold their noses and open the schoolroom windows, top and bottom. He hada philosophical mind and a love of argument, and would thrash outquestions for the sheer fun of debate in a growling sort of tone thatwas not really bad-tempered, only put on. 

Neale, six months older than Diana, was a bright, jolly-looking boy, with a freckled nose and chestnut hair that rather stood on end. Asregards book-learning, the less said about his attainments the better, and he had an unpleasant half-hour in his father's study, explainingdetails of his school report; but in all practical matters he was aheadof Monty. He was a thorough young pickle, up to endless pranks, anddetermined not to let time hang heavy on his hands during the holidays. 

Roger, the youngest, a smart little chap of nine, followed in the wakeof his brothers, poking interfering fingers into Monty's chemicalmesses, or acting scout for Neale's escapades. At the end of twelvehours Diana felt that she knew them perfectly, and had shaken down intoa place of her own amongst them. 

Six young people home for the holidays are apt to turn a house upsidedown, and it was fortunate for Mrs. Fleming that she had an easy-goingand happy-go-lucky disposition, and could view with comparativeequanimity the chaos that reigned in the schoolroom. To Diana it wasdelightful; she preferred a floor littered with shavings, a table spreadwith paints, plasticine modelling-clay, and other descriptions of mess, and chairs encumbered with books and papers, to the neatest, tidiestroom where everything you want is put away out of reach in cupboards. 

"When I heard I was coming to the Vicarage, I thought: 'My, I guess Iwon't have to bounce there!' But you're a real set of sports, " sheassured her new friends. 

"Well, I don't think we're exactly what you'd call prim and proper, "chuckled Meg. 

There were still a few days before Christmas, and the energies of thewhole family were focused on decorations. There were not many people inthe village with leisure to help, so most of the work fell upon theFlemings. They tramped down to the church, bearing great armfuls ofevergreens, strings of holly-berries, and texts cut out in paperletters. The girls sat in a pew and twisted garlands of yew and laurel, which the boys, with the aid of a short ladder, fastened round thepillars. Mrs. Fleming was fitting panels of cotton wool on to thepulpit, and sprinkling them with artificial frost. 

"We ought to have lots of flags about the place this Christmas, " saidMonty, "to make it a sort of victory celebration as well. I'll put twoor three over the organ, and stick some round the monuments. What I'dlike would be to see our huge Union Jack hanging down over that blankwall there. "

"Well, why don't you put it?" enquired Diana, looking up from herwreath-twisting. 

"All very well, madam, but how am I going to get it there? That's alittle detail which escapes your feminine observation. Please to notethe height of our ladder and the height of that wall, and compare thedifference. "

"I'd get up on to that passage and fix it, " nodding to the triforium. 

"Would you, indeed, Miss America? I rather think I see you toddlingalong there, with a drop of thirty feet below you. "

"Do you dare me to?"

"You're brave enough down here in a pew, but I don't believe any girlwould have the head for that. Women aren't steeple-jacks!"

"You needn't speak so scornfully. There may be a few steeple-jenniesamong them!"

"No fear, " laughed Monty, turning away. 

Diana said nothing more, but as she went on with her wreath her thoughtswere as busy as her fingers. She was more silent than usual at lunch, and slipped away quickly afterwards, leaving the family talking roundthe fire. First, she ran upstairs to the corner of the upper landing, where she knew the big Union Jack was kept. She rolled it into a tightbundle, tucked it under her arm, then tore off to the church. She foundherself alone there, for none of the other decorators had returned. Itwas exactly the opportunity she wanted. The bunch of keys was hanging inthe big door. She pulled them out, and carried them to the tiny door bythe chancel steps. This she unlocked and flung open, disclosing a steep, winding stair. Almost on her hands and knees Diana scrambled up, and up, and up till she reached the triforium, the narrow stone gallery that ranround the church under the clerestory windows. The first few yards weresafely protected with arches, pillars, and a balustrade, but after thatcame a stretch of about twenty feet with no parapet at all. The gallerywas only twenty-four inches wide; on the one side was the wall, on theother a sheer drop of about thirty feet. Diana paused, and set herteeth. She did not dare to walk it, but she knelt down and crawled alongtill she reached the next piece of balustrade. Then she unrolled herUnion Jack, and, tying it by its cords to the pillars, arranged it sothat it hung down into the church and covered the exact spot of blankwall that Monty had indicated. She had just finished when she heardfootsteps in the porch. Not wanting to be caught by the Vicar, she beganto crawl back in the same way as she had come. Perhaps the sense thatsomeone might be watching her from below unnerved her, for the returnjourney seemed far worse than the outward one had done. She did notventure to look down, but kept her eyes on the wall. Half-way she wassuddenly seized with a horrible paroxysm of dizziness. For a moment ortwo she lay flat, too frightened to move, while her giddy head seemed tobe spinning round. With a supreme effort she mastered the sensation, andcrawled on, inch by inch, till she once again reached safety. Withrather tottering knees she came down the winding staircase, and throughthe small door to the chancel steps. Mrs. Fleming, Meg, Monty, and Nealewere standing by the lectern when she appeared. Mrs. Fleming was whiteas chalk; the others were staring open-mouthed, with a queer strainedlook in their eyes. 

"Well, I've done it, you see!" said Diana jauntily. 

The Flemings gazed at her without speaking. Monty went and locked thedoor of the staircase and put the keys in his pocket. The silence wasembarrassing. 

"I think it looks very nice hanging there, " declared Diana, nodding ather Union Jack. 

"My dear, " said Mrs. Fleming in a shaky voice, "if you knew what Isuffered when I saw you creeping along the triforium you couldn't speakso lightly. It isn't right to risk your life in this fashion. "

Diana tried to carry the matter off airily, but the boys were grumpy andwould not speak. Meg kept looking at her with a peculiar expression, asif she were recovering from a shock. Altogether, Diana felt that herdeed of daring had fallen very flat. She was annoyed that no onecongratulated her upon it. She considered that for a girl of fourteen itwas rather a record. Monty would not be able to sneer at "Miss America"again. She strolled in a casual way past the font which he wasdecorating, and made a final effort to wring from him the appreciationshe craved. 

"There _are_ some steeple-jennies in the world!" she remarked, staringupwards at the clerestory. 

Monty picked up another piece of holly, placed it deliberately inposition, and then turned his spectacles on Diana. 

"And there are more jenny-asses in it too than I should have expected!"he answered pointedly. 

When Diana had undressed that evening Mrs. Fleming came into her room tosay good-night, and sat down for a minute on the edge of her bed. 

"Have you thought, dear, " she said, "what it would have meant to Mr. Fleming and me to have been obliged to write to your father and motherand tell them you were lying dead, or, worse still, a cripple with abroken spine; and what your father's and mother's feelings would havebeen at the news?"

Diana turned her face away. 

"Thoughtlessness can sometimes amount to heartlessness in its lack ofconsideration for others. "

"Monty dared me to do it. "

"He never dreamed you actually would. Besides, are you going to do everyidiotic, silly thing that every foolish person says you dare not? Ithought you were more sensible, Diana! Remember, we are responsible foryou during the holidays, and I wish to return you whole to your parents. We use every reasonable precaution to take care of you, but I can'tcalculate on safeguarding you as if you were a baby of three. "

Diana drummed her fingers on the pillow. Mrs. Fleming waited a moment, then tried a different tack. 

"I'm not very strong, Diana. My heart is weak, and I'm afraid for somedays I shall feel the effect of the shock you gave me this afternoon. Idon't believe you're the kind of girl who'd deliberately want to make meill. "

Diana wriggled round, but her head was bent down. 

"Remember that we care about you, dear. It would grieve us very much ifthe slightest little accident were to happen to you. We want you to havejolly holidays here, and to go back to school safe and well, with, Ihope, a happy remembrance of the Vicarage. "

Two soft arms were thrown round Mrs. Fleming's neck. 

"I'd do anything for _you_, though I hate to be a molly-coddle!"whispered Diana. "I'm most fearfully sorry if I've really made you feelill!"

 * * * * *

The decoration of the church was only one of the incidents of Christmas;there were other things to be done before the festival arrived. TheFlemings liked to preserve old traditions, and finding that theirlittle American guest was very keen on all the details of a genuineBritish Yule-tide, they did their best to satisfy her. Mrs. Fleming usedthe cherished half-pound of currants--which in the war-time shortage ofdried fruits was all the grocer could send her--to make the frumenty andspiced cakes that from time immemorial had been eaten in that northerndistrict to celebrate the feast of the Nativity. A Yule-log was sawn andplaced upon the dining-room fire, and a huge bough of mistletoe hung upin the hall. 

"We ought to have the Waits to make it just perfect!" said Diana. 

"I believe some of the choir used to go round carol singing once, " saidMeg, "but it's been given up. The mothers said the girls caught cold, and they stayed out too late, so it was put a stop to. It's a pity in away. Mrs. James was saying only the other day that she quite missedthem, and so did Mrs. Holmes. They both said Christmas wasn't what itused to be. "

The pupils of Diana's eyes were growing large and round and shining, asthey always did when her fertile mind was evolving new ideas. She seizedMeg's arm. 

"Oh, I've got such a brain-wave!" she confided. "Look here! Whyshouldn't we be Waits? We've learnt all those Christmas carols atschool. Let's go round and sing them. It would be ripping fun!"

The idea appealed to Meg and Elsie, and, rather to the astonishment ofthe girls, the boys also took it up with enthusiasm, and volunteeredtheir assistance. They enlisted the help of the village schoolmistress, and some of the most tuneful among her pupils, and all on the spur ofthe moment made up their company. 

"What always spoils carol singing, " said Monty sententiously, "is thateverybody's generally so beastly out of tune. They don't seem able tokeep the pitch without a harmonium. "

"Pity we can't carry a harmonium with us!"

"Why shouldn't we?" suggested Neale. "I don't mean I'm going to haul thething on my back, so you needn't grin. I've a better notion than that. We'll see if the Blackwoods will lend us a cart. Put the harmoniuminside, hang up a lantern to see by, and there you are, with a movableconcert platform ready to take round where we like. "

The others looked at Neale with admiration. It was such a very brainyidea, they wondered they had never thought of it for themselves. Timewas short, as the performance was to be that evening, so they dispersedto make their arrangements. Ted Blackwood, a member of the church choir, agreed to bring his father's cart. 

"I'll take t'owd mare, " he grinned. "Shoo's steady, and won't bolt whenth' harmonium starts. Aye, I've a big stable lantern as 'ull do too. "

Here indeed was an excitement for a young American visitor. Diana couldhardly wait till tea was over and darkness fell. Fortunately it was afine evening, with a hint of frost in the air, so the expedition wouldnot be damped by rain. Mrs. Fleming insisted upon all the party beingvery warmly clad, and brought out an old picture of "The Waits" todemonstrate that the use of mufflers was an integral part of theceremony. Diana, to her delight, was lent a Red Ridinghood cloak ofMeg's, clad in which she felt that she had stepped back at least threecenturies, and was walking in the days of the Stuarts. 

"I might be one of the pilgrims in the _Mayflower_!" she exclaimed. "What would Dad give to see me? I wish you were coming too, " she addedto Mrs. Fleming. 

"I'm too busy, child, to-night, " said Mrs. Fleming, kissing the roguishlittle face framed in the red hood. "Enjoy yourselves, chicks! And, Diana, "--with a warning finger held up--"_don't_, please, do anythingdesperately amazing!"

"I'll be an absolute model of mild mediæval maidenhood, " promised thatdamsel, with twinkling eyes. 

They went first to the Blackwoods' farm, then, when Ted had harnessed"t'owd mare", they proceeded with the cart to the schoolhouse, and, after a good deal of heaving and hauling, lifted in the harmonium and astool for Miss Simpson, the schoolmistress, to sit upon while sheplayed. The rest of the party having joined them, they jogged along tothe first house on their list, that of Mrs. Holmes at the Old GrangeFarm. They drew up the cart outside the door, placed lanterns on theharmonium, and saw Miss Simpson settled at the instrument--a matter ofsome difficulty, as the cart sloped, and the stool was inclined to slideaway. Ted held the old mare by the bridle, in case the music mightrevive her youthful spirits and cause her to bolt. The others groupedthemselves round the cart. Miss Simpson struck up, and through the keennight air rang out the cheerful strains of "Christians, awake!" TheHolmes family opened the door in quite a state of excitement, andlistened with much appreciation while "Good King Wenceslas", "The FirstNowell", and other old carols were sung. They insisted on bringing theparty indoors for slices of Yule cake, and would have given them hotcoffee as well, but Monty, who wished to visit other houses, declaredthey had not time to wait while it was made. So they tramped on to theJames's farm, where they had an equally hearty reception, and wereregaled with cocoa, currant bread, and cheese. 

It was a unique experience, trudging along country lanes with a cart andlanterns, with hoar-frost under foot, and a few stars winking in a mistysky, then standing in the cold night air to sing their carols. Dianafelt that she could never forget it, and that the shrill voice of littleJack Greenhalgh warbling

 "Nowell! Nowell! Nowell! Nowell! Born is the King of Israel!"

would always be associated with her idea of Christmas. 

She had her fill of old-world customs, for she was allowed, by specialfavour, to go into the belfry and help for one brief minute to pull abell. And after service on Christmas morning she stood in the churchporch and watched the distribution of the "roth shillings", which, inaccordance with the terms of an old charity, were handed over to "twelveworthy widows resident within the bounds of the parish". She helped inthe afternoon at the schools, where a big tea-party and Christmas-treewere given to the children of the village, and joined nobly in the gamesthat were played afterwards, tearing round at "Drop the Handkerchief", or pulling at "Oranges and Lemons", with unflagging energy. 

"Have you had a nice Christmas Day, childie, away from all your ownpeople?" asked Mrs. Fleming, holding Diana's face between her hands asshe said good-night, and looking at her critically for signs ofhome-sickness. 

But Diana's eyes were without a suspicion of moisture, and her voice wasabsolutely cheerful as she answered:

"Yes, thanks; just topping!"

CHAPTER X

A Fit of the Blues

The interest of experiencing a real old-fashioned English Christmas hadkept Diana's spirits up at fizzling-over point, but directly thefestival was over, her mental barometer came down with a run, and landedher in a bad fit of the blues. There were several reasons for thisunfortunate plunge into an indigo atmosphere. First, the inevitablereaction after the over-excitement of breaking up, sending off presentsand cards, and duly celebrating the Yule-tide feast. Diana was ahighly-strung little person, whose nerves were apt to get on edge, andwho made the common mistake of trying to live too fast. Her father's"lightning methods", which she much admired and imitated, were decidedlywearing to her vitality, and left her sometimes like a squeezed orangeor an india-rubber ball that has lost its bounce. Then secondly, theFrench mails had been delayed, and, since the holidays began, Diana hadnot received a single parcel, letter, or even solitary picture post cardfrom her parents in Paris. The blank was great, and though the Flemingsassured her that foreign posts were irregular, and that the whole ofher correspondence would probably arrive together in one big cargo, shenevertheless could not rid herself of the uneasy impression that illnessor accident to father or mother might be the cause of the delay. Reasonthree, a hackneyed but very present trouble was the weather. The Englishclimate had behaved itself during the first days of the holidays, andhad shown Diana quite a story-book aspect of Christmas, with a lightfall of snow on the fells, hoar-frost on all the plants and ferns in thegarden, and the sun a red ball seen through a rime-tipped tracery oftrees. After that, however, it revenged itself in rain, steady rain thatcame down from a hopelessly grey sky without the least glint of sunlightin it. It was very mild too; the air had a heavy languor that madeeverybody feel tired and disinclined for any exertion. Mrs. Flemingspread the table with sewing, and sighed at the largeness of the taskwhich faced her. The Vicar shut himself in his study, and pinned anotice on the door stating that nobody must disturb him. Monty retiredto develop photos; Neale, clad in a mackintosh, went out into the wet;Meg and Elsie buried themselves in books. 

Diana, feeling that life was utterly drab, wandered from room to roomdoing nothing. She could not settle to sew, read, paint, write letters, or any normal employment, and had not even the patience to try to puttogether a jig-saw puzzle. She missed Wendy and her other chums amongstthe intermediates, and was almost tempted to wish herself back atschool. Her piquant little face with this new _triste_ aspect was asorry spectacle, and Mrs. Fleming watched her uneasily. 

"I hope the child isn't going to be home-sick, " she said to herself. "Ishall be sorry we took her in if we can't make her happy. "

It was evident that something must be done, and something beyond theordinary resources of books and dissected puzzles. Mrs. Flemingcudgelled her brains. Her few days' acquaintance with her young visitorhad taught her that Diana needed judicious handling. It was no usemaking palpable efforts to interest her. In her pixie moods she seemedalmost to resent it. 

"I believe the secret of Diana is to switch her thoughts off herself onto other people, " ruminated Mrs. Fleming. "Instead of trying so hard toamuse her, I shall ask _her_ to amuse _us_. "

She waited till her guest, who had taken an aimless prowl round thehouse, returned once more like a wandering will-o'-the-wisp to thedining-room, then she tackled her. 

"Diana, I want you to do something very kind. I'm in low spirits to-day, and feeling as stupid as an owl. I believe we all are--Meg and Elsie, and the boys, and even the Vicar! I'd give anything for something tobuoy me up and to look forward to. Suppose, after tea, we were to make acircle round the fire and tell stories--really jolly stories that we'dprepared beforehand. We'd each take the rest of the day to think themout. If possible, they must be personal experiences; things that haveactually happened to ourselves. You must have had adventures in America, I'm sure, that would interest us immensely. I'm just longing to hearabout your life out there. Can't you write down a few notes, and give usa really good yarn? You've no idea how much I'd enjoy it. "

Diana stopped whistling, and stood with her mouth screwed into a button. Her grey eyes were fixed on Mrs. Fleming speculatively. 

"I didn't know grown-up ladies ever got bored stiff!" she remarked atlast. 

"They do horribly sometimes; indeed the more middle-aged they are themore they need cheering up, I think. They don't like 'getting on inyears'. "

"I guess you want me to act jester. "

"That's exactly the role I'd like to assign to you. "

The twinkle was slowly coming back to Diana's eyes, and the dimples tothe corners of her mouth. The effect was like sunshine bursting througha rain-cloud. 

"I guess I'll try if I can remember anything to startle you, if you'reout for sensations. It's a kind of literary society, isn't it? Can youlend me a pencil, please, and some waste paper? I don't know what I'vedone with my blotter. Thanks! Now I'm going right up to my bedroom tosort of ruminate. "

Mrs. Fleming's prescription for low spirits acted like a charm. Dianaspent most of the rest of the day scribbling. She came down to tealooking quite elated. The others tried to question her, but she refusedto be drawn. "Wait and see!" was all she would vouchsafe. 

[Illustration: WE SET OFF AND RODE ALL THE MORNING]

It was cosy in the drawing-room when the family collected and made acircle round the log-fire. By unanimous vote Diana's story was givenfirst innings, and, seated in a basket-chair near the lamp, she openedher manuscript. 

"I thought I'd rather read it than tell it, if you don't mind, " shesaid. "I'm a duffer sometimes at telling things. Before I start off, though, I'd best explain who folks are, or you won't understand. UncleCarr Clifford had a ranch in New Mexico, and I used to go and stay theremonths. They always kept a special pony for me to ride. Her name wasDarkie, and she was just a peach. I used nearly to live on her back. Lenox, my cousin, would take me all round the ranch. I'd great times. Well, it was when I was staying at Buller's Creek (that was Uncle Carr'sranch) that this happened. Have I made it clear?"

"Crystal! Bowl ahead!"

So Diana began:

 "THE LOST PONY

 "I had been staying some weeks at Buller's Creek, and one morning, when I came down to breakfast, Lenox ran into the veranda. He looked fearfully excited. 

 "'Do you know, ' he cried, 'that Darkie's missing from the stable?'

 "We all sprang up at the bad news, and Uncle Carr whistled. Darkie was my special pet, and, apart from that, she was the best pony on the ranch. How had she got out of the stable? Lenox had tied her up himself the night before. Either some malicious person must have let her loose or, worse still, some one must have stolen her. 

 "'I believe it's Lu Hudson!' declared Lenox and Uncle Carr nodded. 

 "Lu Hudson, whom most people called 'Spanish Lu', was the owner of the next ranch, and a very disagreeable neighbour. He was a big, rough, dark, hot-tempered fellow, with a bad reputation for picking quarrels and using his revolver. He and Uncle Carr were continually having lawsuits about the boundary of their ranches, and his sheep were constantly trespassing on the Buller's Creek ranges. He had the greatest admiration for Darkie, and several times had asked to buy her, but Uncle Carr had always curtly refused to part with her. The last time there had been trouble about the boundary, Spanish Lu had sworn that he would pay Uncle Carr out, and he was just the sort of desperate fellow to keep his word. Of course the first thing to be done was to ride round the ranch and see whether Darkie could be found anywhere. 

 "'I'm sorry I can't look after the matter myself to-day, ' said Uncle Carr; 'but Jake and I have to get off to the mart at Louisville. She may have strayed, but it's not likely. I don't believe you'll find her. '

 "As soon as Uncle and Jake, the herdsman, had started off in the buggy, Lenox saddled Whitefoot, his own pony, to go in search of Darkie. I begged and prayed and implored to go too, so finally they let me have my way, and saddled Jap for me, a brown pony, quiet and steady, though not so clever as Darkie. Coonie, a little half-caste boy, went with us. 

 "'The air feels heavy this morning, ' said Aunt Frances, as we were starting. 'If a storm comes on, make for cover. Don't try to get home across the prairie till it's over. '

 "The sun was shining, and we did not think the weather looked at all like a storm. I rather laughed at Auntie as she fastened a wrap on to my saddle, with instructions to wear it if I felt cold. Lenox had the lunch-basket, and also a small axe, which he always took with him when going round the ranch. 

 "We set off and rode all the morning, but never a trace of Darkie was to be found. We ate our lunch in a stony little glen, where a stream flowed down from the ridge above. I was very keen on getting wild flowers, and while our ponies rested, I wandered up the bank of the stream, gathering myself a posy. I went on and on, much farther than I intended. At the very head of the glen was a natural barrier of rock, with a few steep steps leading on to a kind of plateau at the top. This spot, I knew, marked the boundary between my uncle's ranch and that of Spanish Lu. The glen was the property of Buller's Creek; the farther side of the ridge belonged to the Hudson range, and the plateau was neutral ground. 

 "Something, I don't know what, impelled me, as I stood there, to give the long-drawn, peculiar whistle with which we always called Darkie. To my astonishment, a whinny came from the plateau above. In another moment I was scrambling up the rock steps. There, tied to a cedar-stump, was Darkie. She recognized me at once, and whinnied again. There was nobody in sight. I did not even stop to think of Lu Hudson. I just ran to Darkie and untied her, and took her by the bridle. It was a fearful business to lead her down the rock steps, but she was as surefooted as a mule, and together we managed it somehow. The boys nearly had a fit when I made my appearance with the missing pony. It was pretty plain, so they said, that Spanish Lu must have stolen her and taken her there for safety, intending to come back and fetch her. Where was he now? The answer came unexpectedly. 

 "'What's that smoke there?' asked Coonie. 

 "Lenox and I turned to look in the direction in which he pointed. A grey haze was mounting from the horizon. 

 "'It's more like dust than smoke, ' said Lenox. 'I wouldn't mind betting it's sheep. '

 "Who could have the impudence to be driving sheep on to the Buller's Creek range? It seemed more than probable that Lu Hudson had broken his pledge, and was again trespassing on his neighbour's property. Lenox and I looked at each other. If Spanish Lu were within short distance of us, the sooner we got Darkie safely home, the better. 

 "'I'll ride her, and you lead Jap, ' I decided. 

 "We started off at once. As we got out of the glen and on to the prairie we could see in the distance an immense flock of sheep, herded by two men on horseback. We were too far from them to recognize faces, but the general appearance of one of them suggested Spanish Lu. 

 "'They're grazing east of the ridge, in spite of what the judge settled!' exclaimed Lenox angrily. 'If I hadn't to take care of you and Darkie, I'd go and tell them what I think of them. '

 "It seemed no use running our heads into danger, and perhaps having Darkie wrenched from us, so we made off east towards home. We had only gone about a mile when suddenly the sky to the west behind us turned black. In a few minutes we were in the thick of a terrific blizzard. My first instinct was to give Darkie her head and fly for the ranch, but Lenox caught at my bridle. 

 "'Ride back to the glen!' he shouted. 

 "Lenox knew enough about prairie blizzards to prevent him from trying to find our way home through this one. On the open plains, where the wind has full sweep, a blizzard is a thing to be dreaded. Though we had to face the storm to ride back to the glen, it was the safest thing to do, for we were not far away, and we should find shelter there. With our heads down, and sharp scraps of ice beating on our saddles, we urged our ponies along. Suddenly we caught sight of a great moving mass coming on with the storm. It was the immense flock of sheep, that had stampeded before the blizzard, and were drifting along across the prairie. Lenox stood up in his stirrups, and shouted to Coonie:

 "'Ride over there, and we'll turn them into the glen!'

 "Coonie understood in a second, and so did I. Unless we could drive the sheep into shelter, undoubtedly the whole number would perish in the storm. Lenox thrust Jap's bridle into my hand, and dashed ahead. In a few minutes he and Coonie had succeeded in turning the leaders towards the entrance of the creek, and after them swept the rest of the flock. We followed into the sheltered glen, and, dismounting from our ponies, found a nook under a projecting piece of rock. There were some tree-stumps about, and Lenox set to work to chop them with his axe, and soon made a roaring fire. How glad I was that Aunt Frances had made me bring the wrap! I should have been frozen without it. Even by the fireside the air was bitter. What must it be like out in the open prairie, we wondered? We had not sat long in our sheltered nook before we heard voices, and two figures, covered with ice and snow, made their appearance leading horses. They staggered to our camp-fire, half exhausted by the violence of the storm. Though his hair and his beard were white with snow, we had no difficulty in recognizing Spanish Lu. He thawed for a little, and then spoke to his herdsman. 

 "'The sheep!' he gasped. 

 "'They're all here, ' answered Lenox in triumph. 'We saw them, and turned them into the creek. '

 "Spanish Lu stared at us as if he could hardly believe his eyes. 

 "'You kids! You turned the whole herd?'

 "I expect he felt pretty grateful, for, if it hadn't been for Lenox and Coonie, several thousand of his sheep would certainly have been lost, and, as it was, they were safely grazing in shelter. When the storm was sufficiently over for us to venture home, he led out Darkie himself and helped me to mount. Neither he nor we said a word about her loss, though we were perfectly certain he must have taken her from the stable. 

 "After that day he kept his sheep to his own side of the ridge, and, though he was never a pleasant neighbour, Uncle Carr wasn't obliged to go to law with him again about the boundary of the two ranches. So we felt that Darkie had patched up peace, particularly as we didn't accuse Lu Hudson of taking her. Horse-stealing is a very serious crime in the West, so I expect he thought he had got off uncommonly well. "

"And what became of Darkie?" asked Meg, as Diana's manuscript came to arather abrupt end. 

"Uncle Carr gave up the ranch when he went into Congress, and Darkie andall the other ponies were left at Buller's Creek. She wouldn't have beenhappy off the prairie, or I'd have begged to have her. Lenox? Why, he'sstill in France; but I suppose he'll be demobilized soon, and going backto Harvard. He wants to be a professor, not a ranchman. He's a fearfullyclever boy. Now, I've read my story, and I'm waiting for yours. Who'sgoing to come next?"

"After such excitements as horse-stealing and a blizzard, our poorlittle adventures would seem very tame, " said Mrs. Fleming, voicing thegeneral feeling of the family, each member of which was showing a plaindesire to shirk. "Suppose we keep our stories for another evening, andplay games now? Meg, get pencils and paper, and we'll have a round of'telegrams'. "

CHAPTER XI

Diana to the Rescue

Next morning the postman arrived quite laden with parcels and lettersaddressed to "Miss Diana Hewlitt". As Mrs. Fleming had prophesied, everything came at once, and her young guest spent a busy and ecstatichalf-hour opening her various packages. Scent, French chocolates, Parisian embroideries, gloves, ribbons, and other dainty vanities suchas girls love were raved over and spread forth on the table, while Dianadevoured the contents of her letters. From one large envelope she drewforth a photograph of a lovely lady in evening-dress. 

"It's Mother! Oh, how perfectly sweet! And the very image of her, too!"she cried, handing the photo to Meg for admiration. 

Her fit of the blues had utterly vanished, and she was in arose-coloured mood to-day. Meg, leaning over the table, deeplyinterested in the parcels, looked critically at the picture of thebright-eyed lady with the soft coils of fair hair. 

"She's not like you, Diana. "

"No. A thousand times better looking than I am!"

"I suppose you're like your father?"

"Yes, so people say, though I can't see it myself. "

"How pretty she is--and how young! She might almost be your sister. Andyet I suppose she must be middle-aged. "

"What do you mean by 'middle-aged'?" demanded Diana sharply. 

"Why, anything over thirty! I call _my_ mother middle-aged. "

"Do you?"

"Of course!" (Meg was still examining the photo. ) "What a perfectlyglorious dress to be taken in! And I adore her necklace. She's like thepictures one sees in _The Queen_. It must be lovely to have a prettymother. "

Diana was looking at Meg with an unfathomable expression in her greyeyes. 

"Don't you call your mother pretty, then?" she asked. 

"Oh, yes! she's a darling; but she's had her day. She's not a societybeauty, is she?"

"N-n-n-o, I suppose not, " said Diana thoughtfully. 

The boys came into the room just then; the conversation was interrupted, and Meg probably forgot all about it. Diana, however, did not. Atlunch-time she critically studied her hostess's features, and mentallycompared them with those of the photo which had arrived that morningfrom Paris. 

"I don't believe Mrs. Fleming is really any older than Mother, " shedecided. "She's been very pretty some time, but she's let herself go. It's a pity. All the same, I could shake Meg!"

An impression that had been gathering in Diana's mind ever since shearrived at the Vicarage now shaped itself into definite form. She didnot like the attitude of her friends towards their mother. They weredevoted to her, but their love lacked all element of admiration. Mrs. Fleming had made the common mistake of effacing herself utterly for thesake of her children. She had dropped her former accomplishments, eventhe music in which she had once excelled, and made herself an absoluteslave to her household. So long as Meg and Elsie wore pretty frocks shecared nothing for her own dress; she never bought a new book or took aholiday; her interests were centred in the young people's achievements, and she had become merely the theatre of their actions. Going awayseldom, and reading little, had narrowed her horizon. She often felt herideas were out of date, and that she was not keeping up with the modernnotions her children were imbibing at school. They always spoke withmore respect of their teachers' opinions than of hers, and would alludeto subjects they were learning as if they did not expect her tounderstand them. Sometimes they assumed little airs of patronage towardsher. Among themselves they occasionally referred to her as "OnlyMother!"

Diana, thinking it all carefully over, raged mentally. "I guess I've gotto make those Flemings admire their mother!" she said to herself. "Justhow to do it beats me at present, but I don't give up. I'd like to fixher hair for her if I dared. She strains it back till she looks like askinned rabbit, and her dresses were made in the year one, I should say. She's a dear, all the same, though. If she could only be cured offeeling on the shelf, she'd grow ten years younger. "

Having set herself the surprising undertaking of rejuvenating Mrs. Fleming, Diana went warily to work. It would certainly not do toreproach Meg, Elsie, and the boys for lack of appreciation of theirmother; they would simply have stared in utter amazement. Somehow, byhook or by crook, she must be made to shine, so as to command theirhonest admiration. Diana catalogued her personal attractions:

 1. A really quite classical nose. 

 2. A nice, neat mouth. 

 3. Good teeth. 

 4. A pretty colour when she gets hot or excited. 

 5. Quite fascinating brown eyes. 

 6. Hair that would be lovely if it were only decently done, instead of scooped away and screwed into a tight knob at the back. 

Anybody with these points might make so much of them, if they only knewhow to use them properly. Diana wondered if it would be possible to buya book on the secrets of fascination. It was just the element that waslacking. Putting personality aside, she began probing into the extent ofher friend's mental equipment. She induced her to bring out thewater-colour sketches of former years, and even wrung from her a halfpromise that some day--when the weather was nice, and if she hadtime--she would paint a picture of the church. 

"The boys would each like a sketch of their mother's to take to schoolwith them, " decreed Diana. "Monty would have his framed and hang it inhis study, and show it to all his friends as _your_ work. "

"Why, so he might, " said Mrs. Fleming, looking much surprised. The ideahad evidently never occurred to her before. 

From painting, Diana passed to other accomplishments. Mrs. Flemingrendered the accompaniments to Elsie's violin pieces and Meg's songswith a delicacy of touch that revealed the true musician. 

"I wish you'd play something to me, " begged Diana one day when thegirls' practising was over and their mother was rising from the piano. 

"_I_, my dear child! I never play now. "

"Why not?"

"I gave up my music long ago, when I got married. "

"You haven't forgotten it, though. "

"Well, not altogether, of course. I'm a good reader still. "

"Please!" urged Diana. 

And, to content her impetuous visitor, Mrs. Fleming gave in. She pulleda volume of Chopin from the stand, and began the twelfth nocturne. Itwas years since she had played it, but as she touched the keys the oldspirit crept back into her fingers, and the notes came rippling outdelicately and easily. Diana, sunk back in the recesses of the longbasket-chair, listened fascinated. She loved music when it was of asuperior quality, and she did not often get the chance of hearingplaying such as this. 

"More! More!" she begged, when the nocturne came to an end. 

The ice once broken, Mrs. Fleming, as much to her own astonishment as tothat of the family, actually revived her interest in the piano. Shehunted out her old pieces and began to practise them. She said it was toamuse Diana, but it was evident that enjoyment was mixed with herphilanthropy. As a girl she had studied under a good master, and she hadmuch natural talent. She would improvise sometimes, and even composelittle things of her own. 

"Why, my dear, " said her husband, peeping into the drawing-room oneevening just at the conclusion of the "Moonlight Sonata", "this takes meback to the time when we were engaged! I've been sitting listening in mystudy. "

Diana, squatting on one foot in the corner of the sofa, clapped herhands softly. She liked the Vicar, but she thought his antiquarianresearches monopolized the conversation at meal-times. It was quite niceto hear him express appreciation for some other line than his own. Dianahad a scheme in her mind, and, when she judged the time was ripe, sheproposed it suddenly and boldly in the face of the whole united familyof Flemings. It was nothing more or less than that Mrs. Fleming shouldplay a solo at the concert which was to be held at the schools on the10th of January. In vulgar parlance, she "shot her bird sitting", plumped the idea upon her, and dragged forth an acceptance before--asthe poor lady afterwards protested--she had time to realize what she wasundertaking. 

"Certainly. Why not?" confirmed her husband. "We badly want some moreitems on the programme. I shall put you down for two solos. "

"But what _can_ I play?" remonstrated Mrs. Fleming. 

"Oh, Mother, you know heaps of things! Don't be absurd!" reproved Meg. 

"I guess we'll have a rehearsal to-night, and choose your star pieces, "said Diana, with shining eyes. 

So far, so good. Her plot had answered admirably. The family took italmost as a matter of course that "Mother" was to perform at theconcert, though it had never occurred to any of them to ask her to doso. 

"She's a very good pianist, " said Meg airily to Diana. 

"Glad you think so!" rapped out Diana, with an emphasis that made Megstare and whisper afterwards to Elsie that she couldn't quite somehowget at the back of "Stars and Stripes". 

It was a mighty matter to select the two solos. Mrs. Fleming, flusteredand bewildered at this unexpected dive into publicity, hesitated amongmany pieces. As she could not make up her own mind, Diana made it up forher. 

"We want the 'Moonlight Sonata' for one, and Chopin's 'Ballade in Aflat' for the other, " she decided. "They're classical, but they're soexquisite that I guess even the old women will enjoy them. Then for theencores you could play----"

"Encores!" gasped Mrs. Fleming feebly. 

"Why, of course there'll be encores! Schubert's 'Hedge Roses' for one, and that nocturne of your own for the other. It'll just about take thehouse!"

So Mrs. Fleming, with an extraordinary feeling that she had somehow beenwhisked back to her school-days, sat practising in the drawing-room, with Diana, curled up in the corner of the sofa for audience. It was adream-world for them both. Diana had been reading _Stories of the GreatComposers_, and now she knew the hearts of the musicians she could entermore fully into the meaning of their music. She had fallen, utterly andentirely, under the magic spell of Chopin; the lovely, liquid melodiesthrilled her like the echo of something beyond her earthly experience, and seemed to go soaring away into regions she had not yet explored, regions of breathless beauty, though only entered by the gates ofsorrow. She would read Alfred Noyes's poem on Chopin as she satlistening to the haunting, bewitching rhythm of the "Ballade in A", andthe ring of the poetry merged itself into the glamour of the music, sothat ever afterwards she connected the two. 

 "'Do roses in the moonlight glow Like this and this?' I could not see His eyes, and yet--they were quite wet, Blinded, I think! What should I be If in that hour I did not know My own diviner debt?"

or

 "Wrapped in incense gloom, In drifting clouds and golden light; Once I was shod with fire, and trod Beethoven's path through storm and night: It is too late now to resume My monologue with God. "

"I don't wonder Chopin had his piano carried out into the fields!" shecommented. "I don't believe he could have composed in the house. Youhear the wind blowing through his pieces, and see the tassels of thelaburnum-tree he was sitting under swaying about in it. "

The concert was an annual gaiety which most of the people in theneighbourhood attended, and was generally much above the average ofvillage performances. North-country folk are musical, and this districtof the Pennines had produced many voices that passed on to cathedralchoirs. Instrumental music, also, was appreciated and understood, andbefore the war there had been quite a good little orchestra in theparish. When Mr. Fleming drew up his programme, he knew the audience forwhom he was catering, and did not fill it entirely with coon songs andragtimes. Diana, to whom the affair loomed as the main event of theholidays, discussed at the Vicarage the eternally feminine question ofdress. 

"No one ever comes very smart, " Mrs. Fleming assured her. 

"But one likes to see the performers in something pretty, " pleadedDiana. "It makes it so much more festive, doesn't it?"

"Mother, you intend to go in evening-dress, don't you?" said Meg. 

Mrs. Fleming had intended nothing of the sort, but urged on by thegirls, she took a review of her wardrobe. She shook her head over theresult. 

"I haven't anything at all except that grey silk, and it's as old as thehills. Why, I got it for my sister's wedding, when Roger was a baby!"

"But fashions come round again, " said Diana, who, with Meg and Elsie, had been allowed to watch what came out of the big ottoman in the sparebedroom. "Why, this dress is the very image of the picture of one inthat magazine Mother sent me from Paris! It only wants the sleevesshortened and some lace put in, and the neck turned down to make itlower, and then a fichu put round. Here's the very thing! I'd fix itfor you if you'd let me. I'd adore to do it. "

No one knew exactly how Diana managed to work matters, but for thisoccasion she took over Mrs. Fleming's toilet, and that astonished ladyresigned herself into her hands. She was a natty little person, withexquisite taste, and by the aid of some really good lace, which theottoman yielded, she managed to transform the grey silk dress into avery creditable imitation of the Parisian fashion-plate. She even daredto venture a step further without offending. 

"I often help Mother fix her hair when she's going out, and she calls meher little _coiffeuse_. I'm crazy to try yours, if I may. "

"'In for a penny, in for a pound, ' I suppose, you young witch!"acquiesced Mrs. Fleming, letting her enthusiastic guest have her way. 

So on the evening of the concert Diana shut herself up in her hostess'sbedroom with a pair of crimping-irons and some curling-tongs. Shecovered up the result with a light gauze veil. 

"Don't let them see you till you get to the concert, " she implored, helping her friend to put on her cloak. "I want them to get a realsurprise. I guess it will make them sit up!"

The parish hall was quite full that evening, and the platform wasprettily and appropriately decorated with flags and plants in pots. There was a sprinkling of local gentry on the front benches, and MissTodd, who had returned after the holidays, and was entertaining somevisitors at the Abbey, brought her whole house-party. The villagers hadturned up in full force, thoroughly prepared to enjoy themselves. TheFleming family sat at the end of the second row, and watched as theaudience filed in. 

"Where's Mother?" asked Elsie. 

"She's in the performers' room, talking to Miss Watson, " vouchsafedDiana, chuckling softly to herself. 

Then the concert began. There was a madrigal by the choir, and a gleefor four male voices, and a duet for soprano and mezzo, and then camethe item for which Diana was waiting:

 The Moonlight Sonata, ....... _Beethoven_. 

 MRS. CARISBROOK FLEMING. 

The curtain at the back of the platform was drawn aside, and a ladyentered--a lady who was palpably nervous, but oh, so pretty! Her browneyes shone like two stars, and her cheeks were the colour of the knot ofcarnation ribbon that fastened the lace fichu of her dress. Her lovelybronze hair was parted on one side, and rippled lightly over herforehead; it looked the very perfection of glossy fluffiness. She wore amoonstone pendant set in dull silver that matched the shimmering grey ofher dress. The piano had been drawn to the front of the platform, andshe took her place. Then the magic music began. Diana knew her friendcould play well, but she had never heard her reach this pitch before. The audience listened as if spell-bound, and, when the last note diedaway, broke into a storm of applause. There was no question about theirenthusiasm, and an encore was inevitable. They stamped heartily, indeed, for a second encore, but Mrs. Fleming refused to return to the platform, and sent on the next performer instead. The "Ballade in A flat", in thesecond part of the programme, was an almost greater success, andproduced shouts of "Brava!" from the back of the hall. Pendlemere peoplecould appreciate good music, and showed their approval withnorth-country heartiness. 

The Fleming family sat during the performance gazing as if they couldscarcely believe the evidence of their own eyes and ears. Diana hadcalculated upon giving them a surprise, and she had certainly done so. Apparently it was a very pleasant one, to judge from the expression ontheir faces. 

As the crowd filed out from the benches at the close of the concert, Diana found herself walking behind Meg, who was speaking to a friend. 

"That 'Moonlight Sonata' was beautiful!" Ada Davis was saying. "And Mrs. Fleming looked so charming to-night! How nice to have such a pretty, clever mother!"

"I'm _awfully_ proud of her!" agreed Meg, with unction. 

"Humph! High time you were!" sniffed Diana behind. 

At the door the Vicar was helping his wife into her cloak. He put itround her with quite a gallant little air, and offered her his arm asthey stepped out into the starlight together. 

"I hardly know you to-night, Sylvia. You excelled yourself!" heremarked. 

"'Sylvia'!" Diana triumphed inwardly. "That's the first time I've everheard him call her anything except 'Mother'. If _I_ get married, I'llwant my husband to call me 'Diana', even if I've a dozen children to be'Mother' to! I guess Mrs. Fleming has hopped off the shelf to-day, and Ijust hope to goodness she'll never go back. "

CHAPTER XII

Diana Breaks Out

Diana went back to school in the wildest and most rampageous of spirits. She felt that she just had to let off steam somehow. She seized Wendy'shand, tore with her to the very top of the house and down again, thencareered along the corridor in such a mad, not to say noisy stampede, that Miss Todd issued from her study like a lion from its lair, andfixed the culprits with the full concentrated power of what the girlscalled her "scholastic eye". 

"Winifred and Diana, " she remarked in calm, measured tones, "if I haveto remind you again about walking quietly in the passages, it will meanforty lines for you both, and I should be sorry to have to givepunishments on the first day of term. "

The tempestuous pair, very much sobered down, tip-toed away, and went tounpack their possessions in their separate dormitories. Diana foundLoveday in the ivy room, and burst in upon her with as much of thebubbling-over spirits as she dared to exhibit, hugging her till shenearly choked her. 

"I've missed you loads, Loviekins!" she assured her. "It felt queer tobe in bed, and not have you on the other side of a curtain. I used towake up in the night and begin to speak to you out of sheer force ofhabit. I wanted my 'little elder sissie' awful bad sometimes! Did youmiss me the least tiny atom? Do you care that much for your 'pixiegirl'?"

"Of course I missed you, darling! I'm just delighted to see you again!It's nice to be back. I haven't enjoyed the holidays _very_ much. Inever do----"

"I know, " said Diana sympathetically, as Loveday hesitated. "I couldread that between the lines, in your letters. You wrote me absolutelyripping letters! I loved them! You were a dear to write so often. Itmust have taken heaps of time. "

"I'd nothing very much else to do, " sighed Loveday, disengaging herselfgently from Diana's arms. "Let me go, child! I haven't half finished myunpacking, and you haven't even begun yours yet. "

"_Bust_ the unpacking!" said Diana naughtily. "I don't feel inclined tobe tidy; I shall just shovel armfuls of things out, and pitch themanyhow into the drawers. Yes, Loveday Seton, I feel like that! I'm 'fey'to-day, as the Scotch say, and must 'dree my weird'. Don't quite knowexactly what that means; but I guess I've got a little pixie imp dancingaround inside me, and he's going to make me do something crazy. There'sno help for it! It's kismet!"

"And Miss Hampson is also kismet!" said Loveday, leaving her own box andcoming to the rescue of Diana's garments, which were being literallypitched into the drawers with no regard at all for their condition. "Look how you're crushing your blouses! Go and sit on the bed, and letme do it. There! What a baby thing you are! You're more like four thanfourteen!"

"It pays, " said Diana serenely, squatting cross-legged on her bed, whileLoveday's neat hands arranged her possessions. "If I were a sedate, goody-goody, 'old-beyond-her-years', staid sort of a person, you'd neverspoil me as you do. I'll try to practise it if you like, though. Anything to please you! How would this do?"

Diana's mobile face suddenly underwent a quick change. The corners ofher mouth were drawn down, her eyelids drooped, while her eyes were castupward in a sort of sanctimonious squint. 

"Don't!" implored Loveday, almost hysterically. "Oh, suppose your facewere to stick like that! You'd look the most abominable little Pharisee. I'd hate you!"

"You like your pixie-girl best? Then, that settles it! Now, if you everscold me again about anything, I'll put on the Pharisee face; so I warnyou. You've got to choose between them. Yes, I know I'm a handful--Ialways have been--but, perhaps, it's good for you, Loveday mine:develops your character, and makes you more patient and persevering, and--and----"

"You're the cheekiest little imp on the face of the earth!" interruptedLoveday. "Get up, this minute, and come and finish your own work. I'vesomething else to do besides unpack for you. If Miss Hampson comes andfinds my box still half full----"

"She'll say how slow you've been, and what a nice, tidy child Diana is!Don't try to look 'proper', Loveday! It doesn't suit your style ofbeauty. Yes, put my collars away, too, or I shall only crush them. There! Very well done! First prize for order! I think you're absolutelytopping, if you ask me!"

All that evening, and all the next morning, Diana's spirits continued tofizz. She might possibly have worked them off out-of-doors, but theBritish climate was against her; once more the fells were swathed intheir familiar garments of mist, and the rain came pitter-pattering downon the roof of Pendlemere Abbey, and falling from the eaves in amonotonous drip, drip, drip. It was drawing afternoon, and promptly athalf-past two intermediates and juniors would be due in the studio to goon with the various copies and models on which they were engaged. It wasnow shortly after two o'clock, and the school was amusing itself for thehalf-hour between meal-time and lessons. During that brief intervalDiana, so to speak, "popped her cork". 

"Hallo, America! You're looking rather weedy, standing on one leg like amarabou stork!" quizzed Sadie. "What's the matter with you?"

"Your beastly, abominable British climate!" retorted Diana. "It goes onrain, rain, raining till I'm fed up. I want to get away somewhere, andsee something different from just school. I wasn't born for a convent!"

"I should think not!" chuckled Vi. 

"But I'm in one, and I'm tired of it! I'm tired of you all! Yes, I meanwhat I say!"

"Draw it mild, Stars and Stripes!" warned Sadie. 

"I don't care! School's dull, and I'm bored stiff. I'll wake things upsomehow; see if I don't!"

"What'll you do, old sport?"

"Ah! _Just wait and see!_" nodded Diana, putting down the foot that hadbeen twisted round her leg, and stamping to get rid of the pins andneedles that followed her cramped position. "It's just possible I mayturn philanthropist, and give you all a dinky little surprise, " sheadded casually, as she strolled towards the door. 

The studio was a large room on the upper story, with the orthodox northwindows and top-light, in the shape of a skylight. It was fitted withdesks and easels, and round its walls was a row of casts on pedestals. The girls liked drawing afternoon well enough, but they were not in anyparticular hurry to go upstairs and take out boards and pencils. It wasnot until twenty-five minutes past two that Wendy, Vi, Sadie, and Peggycame leisurely along the top landing. They opened the door of the studioin quite an every-day manner, and walked in. Then they all four staredand ejaculated:

"O-o-o-oh!"

"Jehosh-a-phat!"

"I say!"

"Good night!"

They might well exclaim, for a very startling and unanticipatedspectacle greeted them. The classic heads of the casts had lost theirdignity. Apollo wore a tam-o'-shanter cocked rakishly over his left ear;Clytie had on a motor veil; Juno and Ceres were fashionably arrayed instraw hats; a wreath of twisted paper encircled the intellectual brow ofMinerva; Psyche peered through spectacles; Perseus was decked with aturban; and, worst of all, the beautiful upper lip of Venus sported amoustache. Armed with a pointer stood Diana, ready, like Mrs. Jarley ofthe famous waxworks, to act show-woman. 

"Walk up! Walk up, ladies and gentlemen!" she began glibly. "This isn'tfunny at all, it's calm and classical. Greek art up-to-date is what Icall it. If Apollo had lived in this British climate I guess he'd haveneeded a tammy to keep his hair in curl; and Psyche must have beenshort-sighted when she blundered about hunting for Cupid; she'd havefound him in a decent pair of spectacles, poor girl! Clytie sufferedfrom earache, and couldn't motor without a veil; as for Venus, it'sgiving her the vote that's forced a moustache; she's sent for asafety-razor, but it hasn't arrived yet. "

More girls had come in during Diana's explanation, and they wanderedround the room in explosions of laughter. 

"Why has Perseus got a turban on?" demanded Tattie. 

"Because his hair grew thin on the top, and even Tatcho didn't fetch upanother crop of curls, and Andromeda so objected to seeing him bald thatthere was nothing for it but to turn Moslem and wear a turban. He did itin self-defence, because she threatened to buy him a dark wig, and hesaid it would make him look like a Jew. "

"That's _my_ hat!" objected Vi, pointing to the straw that decoratedJuno. 

"Excuse me--hers! The lady's gone on the land, working like a niggerdigging the ground for the potato crop. You see, Jupiter hasn't gotdemobilized yet, and----"

The flower of Diana's eloquence suddenly withered and dried up as ifelectrocuted. In the doorway, above the heads of the giggling girls, appeared a vision in pince-nez--an avenging vision that passed rapidlythrough the several stages of amazement, consternation, and wrath. 

"Di-ana _Hew_litt!" snapped Miss Hampson. "Go down and report yourself_instantly_ to Miss Todd. This is simply disgraceful! Girls, take yourseats! Tattie and Vi, help to remove those--those----" The irate mistresspaused for a word, but, failing to find one adequate to the occasion, began instead, her fingers trembling with indignation, to strip theturban from the classic head of Perseus. 

Dead, awful silence reigned in the room. Not a girl dared to giggle; afew began nervously to sharpen pencils, but most sat and stared whilethe casts were denuded of their trappings. Miss Hampson removed themoustache from Venus as if she were apologizing to that deity forsacrilege, and, with her own handkerchief, wiped away from the lovelylip the seccotine which had attached the masculine appendage to theQueen of Beauty. She rolled up the hats in the towel which had served asturban, set her pupils to work at their copies, then marched sternlydownstairs to lay the full enormity of the case before thejustly-shocked ears of Miss Todd. Nobody ever heard exactly whathappened in the interview; no coaxing or persuasion would induce Dianato disclose details even to Wendy or Loveday, but it was generallyunderstood in the school that Miss Todd had "spoken her mind". Oneresult loomed large, and that was the punishment. It was absolutelyunique. Perhaps the Principal was tired of giving poetry to learn orlines to write, and considered that confinement to bounds was not verygood for a girl's health, so she devised something else to act as adiscipline. For a week Diana was condemned not to wear evening-dress. Itwas a far greater trial than it sounds. Each night before supper theschool changed into pretty frocks, and, when the meal was over, spent apleasant hour together at recreation. With everybody else in festiveattire, it was terrible for Diana to be obliged to come downstairs inher serge skirt and jersey, the one Cinderella of the party. Mostespecially trying was it on Saturday, when chairs and tables were pushedback in the dining-room, and dancing was the order of the evening. PoorDiana, in her thick morning-shoes, stood forlornly in a corner, refusingall offers of partners, but watching wistfully as the others whirled by. Miss Hampson, whose wrath was of the short, explosive kind that quicklyturns to softness of heart, was understood to murmur something to MissTodd about the impossibility of waltzing in anything butdancing-slippers; but the Principal's mouth was set firm, and she wouldnot remit the least atom of the sentence till it was paid to theuttermost farthing. 

If Diana looked wistful, she nevertheless bore her punishment withdignity. She was a girl of spirit, and she did not mean to betray, evenby the blink of an eyelid, how much she cared. Geraldine, Hilary, andIda had rubbed in her ostracism, and certain impudent juniors hadenjoyed themselves with witticisms at her expense. To these she mustpreserve an attitude of sang-froid. But up in the ivy room, when shewent to bed, the mask fell off. The Diana that cuddled in Loveday's armswas a very different Diana from the don't-care young person ofdownstairs. Loveday--who understood her now--consoled and kissed where aterm ago she would have scolded. There are some dispositions that canonly be managed by kisses. 

"It wasn't as if I'd taken a hammer and smashed the wretched old casts!"sobbed Diana. "I really didn't do them any damage; even the seccotinewas easily sponged off Venus. But Miss Todd talked and talked as if I'ddone something irreligious in church. I'd never do that, you know! WouldI, now? She said I had 'an irreverent mind'. I don't believe she'll ever_quite_ forgive me. And oh, Hilary has been so nasty! Thank goodness, dancing evening's done with! I've only Monday and Tuesday nights to gothrough now, then the whole wretched week will be over. I suppose I'm tobe allowed to wear my Sunday clothes to-morrow? If I mayn't, I'll shamill and stop in bed. I won't go to church in my brown coat and tammy, and have Mr. Fleming and everybody staring at me. I just _couldn't_! I'ddie!"

"It's all right about that--don't you worry! I asked Miss Hampson, andshe said: 'Certainly, Sunday clothes'. I'll speak to Hilary, and try toget her to leave you alone. As for those kids, just leave them to me;I'll tackle them, and tell them what I think of the way they behavedto-night--the young wretches! I fancy I'll make them squirm!"

"You mascot! Miss Todd says I've been utterly and entirely spoilt. Do_you_ think I have?"

Loveday took the piquant little face between her two hands and looked amoment into the upturned grey eyes. 

"Yes, " she decided. "You're undoubtedly a spoilt darling--but you're adarling all the same, " she added softly under her breath. 

CHAPTER XIII

Crusoe Island

When the days grew a little finer, and it was possible to venture out ofdoors without being almost drowned, Miss Chadwick began to put the"Principles of Agriculture" into practical application. All through thewinter she and her assistants--Miss Carr and Miss Ormrod--had worked inall weathers looking after the poultry, the pony, and the newgreenhouse, but it was only at rare intervals that it had been possiblefor the school to turn out and do digging in the garden. The "LandClasses" had, however, been studying the scientific side of the matter. They had analysed soils, estimated the rainfall, and examined thegermination of seeds; they understood such mysterious terms as bacteria, protozoa, cotyledons, trenching and ridging, cross-fertilization andspermatozoids, and had some elementary acquaintance with the theory ofthe rotation of crops. They felt like full-fledged farmers when MissChadwick wrote on the black-board such questions as:--

"How far apart should different kinds of orchard trees be planted toensure enough sunlight?"

"Explain a method of testing seeds. "

"What effect has transplanting on a seedling?"

"Describe the difference in structure between a corn-stem and arose-stem. Make a cross-section drawing of each. "

They tried experiments, such as planting in a box six beans with thescarred ends down, and six with the scarred ends up, and noted theresults from day to day; they placed blotting-paper between two panes ofglass, with seeds next to the glass, put the apparatus in water, anddemonstrated the growth of roots; they started one plant in the dark, and another in a light place, grew identical peas in moist cotton orsaw-dust, broke the seed leaves from specimen beans to observe whathappened, and compared the results of distilled water and tap water asnourishment. 

Everybody agreed, however, that it was much more interesting to put ontheir land costumes and work out-of-doors. Miss Chadwick, whose methodswere on the newest lines, taught rhythmic digging, which is far lessfatiguing than anyhow exertions, and was very particular about theposition of the body and the action of the spade. Miss Todd, looking onwith huge satisfaction, felt that she was cultivating girls as well asvegetables, and that her educational experiment promised elements ofsuccess. Certain special pupils were allowed to help to attend to thepoultry--a coveted honour as soon as the fluffy chickens and ducklingsbegan to be hatched; others were being trained to understandbee-keeping; it was rumoured in the school that Miss Todd's ambitioneven soared so high as buying a cow. 

"Where would she keep it, though?" asked Tattie, who was practical. 

"I don't know, unless on the lawn, " ventured Jess. 

"Whew! It would spoil the tennis-courts. "

"Well, I suppose she could hire a field. It would be ripping fun tolearn to milk. "

"Don't flatter yourself you'd have the chance. The seniors get all thatkind of fun, and we poor intermediates only get the spade work. I'venever been allowed to feed the chickens once, no--not _once_--and Ithink it's jolly hard luck!"

"Well, after the way you stuck your fingers into the bee-hive, I shouldthink Miss Ormrod would hardly trust you to feed a sparrow!"

"What nonsense! I was only investigating!"

"Oh, I dare say! It sounds very grand when you put it that way. MissOrmrod called you 'Meddlesome Matty', and said you deserved to bestung!"

One great advantage of the farming operations, in the eyes of theyounger girls, was that so many materials were left lying about, and itwas quite possible to obtain a considerable amount of enjoyment fromthem. A plank placed over a tree-trunk made quite a good see-saw; thenew back gate was a delightful one to swing upon; and, when MissOrmrod's back was turned, it was a favourite amusement to place a ladderagainst the potting-shed wall, climb to the ridge of the roof, and thenslide down and give a flying jump to the ground. There was an old bucketinside the potting-shed upon which Diana had her eye; she had schemesthat centred round that bucket. It had holes drilled in its sides, andhad been used during building operations to light a fire in. She wasdetermined it should be used for that purpose again. 

Down by the brink of the lake was a boat-house that belonged to theschool. It was kept carefully locked, and Miss Todd had the key. Sinceshe had taken over the school she had allowed no one to use the boat--agrievance at which the girls sometimes grumbled. There was a smalllanding-stage at the edge of the water, and only six feet away from thiswas a sort of island formed of some willow-stumps and a little soil. Itwas a tiny place, hardly worthy to be called an island, and yet forDiana it held an immense attraction. She wanted to get on to it. Shewent down one day with Wendy, Peggy, and Vi, and they took the plankwhich had been used for a see-saw, fixed it as a bridge from thelanding-stage to a willow-stump, and then walked across and tookpossession. Their new property was only about as large as a good-sizeddining-table, but they were immensely pleased with it. 

"We'll bring down the Stars and Stripes and hang them up!" exultedDiana. 

"The Union Jack, you mean!" corrected Wendy. "Can't run up even anAllied flag on British soil without first claiming it for the King! I'dlike to have a picnic here!"

"That's exactly what's in my mind, " agreed Diana, waiving the questionof the colours. "And I've got a brain-wave. We'll carry the bucket over, light a fire, and cook something. Wouldn't it be rather ripping?"

"A1!" beamed Peggy and Vi. 

"Crusoe Island", as the girls named their willow-clump, might certainlyclaim the doubtful distinction of being the smallest British possessionin the world, but it was an important one in the eyes of its owners. They duly brought down the Union Jack and the American flag, and--as aconcession to Diana--planted them side by side on its scanty soil. Theydecided not to tell seniors or juniors anything at all about it. Ofcourse, in a vague way, the whole school knew of its existence, butnobody had troubled before to land on its few yards of surface. It waswell hidden by the boat-house, so that any operations there were notvisible from the garden or orchard. The rest of the intermediates, admitted with many cautions of silence into the secret, approvedwhole-heartedly; the form squatted in a circle on their territory, linked little fingers, and pledged themselves into a sort of CrusoeSociety. Everybody felt that the first thing to be done was to hold aninauguration feast. They borrowed the bucket, filled it with coal andcoke from the greenhouse, and carried it successfully over the plank tothe island. 

"So far so good!" purred Diana. "We've got our fire!"

"But not our feast!" qualified Wendy. 

"We shall have to be jolly careful to dodge those juniors, " advisedJess. "If they see us carrying out cups they'll be on the scentdirectly. "

"We mustn't risk it. Besides, Barker would be sure to catch us in thepantry, and make a clamour if we took cups; we must manage withoutthings from the house. "

"There's a large biscuit-tin lid in the hen-yard, " suggested Sadie. "Ifwe washed it very well, it would do as a frying pan. "

"Good biz!"

"What could we fry?"

The commissariat question was indeed the problem of problems. Thevillage was unfortunately out of bounds, so that, except on statedoccasions, when they were escorted by a mistress, the girls were unableto do shopping "on their own". There are ways, however, of crawlingthrough even the most barbed-wire fence of rules. 

"Toddlekins never told us we weren't to ask anybody else to do shoppingfor us, " said Wendy demurely. "When you've not been told not to doanything, you're not disobedient if you don't do it--oh! I'm gettingrather in a muddle, but you know what I mean. "

They did, and they grinned approval. 

"There's a little boy working on the next farm, " continued Wendy. "I'vesmiled and waved to him over the hedge sometimes. I believe he'd do_anything_ for me. If you can stump up some cash, I'll get him to run anerrand for us. He's picking stones out of the field at this presentmoment--at least, to be absolutely truthful, he was, ten minutes ago, and I don't suppose he's stopped. If I go to the orchard fence I cancall to him. "

The circle looked at Wendy with admiration. They had not before realizedthe riches of her resourcefulness. Each promised to contribute sixpence, and told her where to find their purses, so that they need not arousesuspicion by visiting their dormitories in a body. 

"We'll be lighting the fire while you get the prog, " they assured her. 

So Wendy departed on her foraging expedition, collected the necessaryfunds after much hunting in various drawers and coat pockets, hurried tothe orchard, and climbed the fence. Freddie Entwistle was still steadilyengaged in the rural occupation of ridding his father's field ofsuperfluous stones, but he kept an eye on the horizon, and at the sightof Wendy's beckoning finger he flung duty to the winds. 

"D'you want me?" he grinned, as he came panting across the newlyploughed earth. 

"Yes, " said his siren sweetly. "I want you badly. Will you go to thevillage and buy something for me?"

"I don't mind. What shall I get?"

"Half a pound of biscuits and something to fry. "

"Bacon?" suggested her swain laconically. 

"N-n-no. We had bacon for breakfast. "

"Kippers or ham?"

"I don't think kippers; but really it must be anything you can get. Here's the money. If there's any change, take it out in sweets. "

"Right you are! I'll be as sharp as I can. "

"It's something to have a knight-errant who's prepared to relieve amaiden in distress, " reflected Wendy, seating herself on the fence toawait the return of her chivalrous squire. 

He came back in course of time with his pockets bulging with parcels, evidently very proud of himself for having executed his lady's commands. Her thanks and a commission of sweets left him radiant. He returned tohis stone-picking, living in a dream. 

The party on the island received Wendy with enthusiasm. The fire wasburning beautifully in the bucket, the tin had been scoured with sandand well washed, large ivy leaves had been picked to serve as plates, and the company had their penknives ready. 

"It's sausages!" exclaimed Wendy, opening one of the parcels; "and he'sactually bought some lard to fry them in. What a brain--and only twelve!That boy'll be a general some day, if he doesn't die of over-cleverness. Biscuits to eat with them, my children, and some chocs. For dessert. Ibeg to propose that we accord a hearty vote of thanks to FreddieEntwistle. "

 "For he's a jolly good fellow! For he's a jolly good fellow!"

began Jess; but Diana promptly squashed her. 

"Stop that noise! D'you want to give the whole show away, and haveLennie, and Nora, and Betty, and all the rest of the kids swarming downupon us? Anybody who can't keep quiet will be made to walk the plank. Yes, and splash into the river at the other end of it! We wouldn't pickyou out either; we'd let you drown!"

"Then I'd sing 'For he's a jolly good fellow' as my 'dying swan song', "protested Jess. "The kids are far enough away. No one can hear us. "

She took the hint, all the same, and did not allow her enjoyment tobubble over into music. Instead, she helped Wendy to prick the sausageswith a penknife and place them on the temporary frying-pan. Thebiscuit-tin lid just fitted nicely over the bucket. In a few minutesthere was a grand sound of fizzling, and a most delicious scent began towaft itself over the waters of the lake. The best of a bucket-fire isthat everybody can sit round it in a circle and superintend the cookingoperations. Eight penknives prodded the sausages so often that it was awonder they were not all chopped to pieces before they were done. Atlast the connoisseurs declared they were brown enough, and they werecarefully and mathematically halved and served on biscuits. 

"Delicious!" decreed Tattie, critically. 

"Couldn't have been better if Toddlekins had reared the piglets on ourown farm, " chimed in Peggy. 

"Diana, you haven't taken a bite yet, " commented Wendy. 

"I'm not sure that I want any. I think I'll only have a biscuit, afterall. "

"Not want any? Not want the lovely sausages that I risked so much toget? Diana Hewlitt, what's the matter with you?"

"Oh, nothing--only----"

"Only nothing, I should say! Eat up that piece of sausage double quick, if you value my friendship. "

"Suppose you eat it for me? That would be sentiment. "

"No, it wouldn't; you must eat it yourself. There'll be a shindy if youdon't. Our first feast! It's a sort of ceremonial!"

"Not 'the cup of brotherhood' but 'the sausage of sisterhood'!" hinniedJess. 

Diana looked doubtfully at the two inches of brown, porky substance onher ivy-leaf plate, and sighed. 

"I feel like the elephant at the Zoo when they offered him his hundredthbun: It may kill me, but it's a beautiful death, " she demurred. "Well, if you're all nuts on my having some, I guess there's nothing else forit. Here goes! What a life!"

"The Sisterhood of the Sausage, " murmured Jess fatuously. 

"Don't make such a fuss; you know you're enjoying it, old sport, " saidWendy. "It isn't every day in your life you can come and have a blow-outon Crusoe Island. "

 * * * * *

On Thursday morning Diana, who had been restless and fidgety in thenight, awoke with a rash all over her face and chest. Loveday, muchalarmed, would not allow her to get up till the authorities had seenher, and fetched Miss Todd. The Principal, dismayed at the prospect ofinfection in the school, mentally ran over the gamut of possiblediseases from scarlatina to chicken-pox, ordered Diana to stop in bed, and sent at once to Glenbury for the doctor. 

Now it happened that Dr. Hunter was himself in bed, suffering from asevere attack of influenza, and, as it was extremely difficult for him, at a few hours' notice, to secure the services of a really competentmedical man as locum tenens, he had been obliged to put up with a Hindoodoctor who was sent by the London agent in answer to his urgenttelegram. It was a case of "any port in a storm", and though Dr. Jinaradasa's qualifications might be such as only just to satisfy theboard of the Royal College of Surgeons, it was better to send him tolook after the patients than to leave them utterly unattended. Therefore, when the neat little two-seater car drew up at PendlemereAbbey it was not the bluff, rosy-cheeked Dr. Hunter who stepped out ofit, but a foreign-looking gentleman with a very dark complexion. Heexplained his presence to Miss Todd, who gasped for a second, butrecovered herself, received him gratefully, and conducted him upstairsto view his patient. Diana, I regret to say, behaved like the spoiltchild she really was. She buried her head under the bedclothes, and atfirst utterly refused to submit to any examination. Miss Todd coaxed, wheedled, stormed, and finally pulled the clothes away by force anddisplayed the rash to the dark, lustreless eyes of Dr. Jinaradasa. Heasked a few questions--which Diana answered sulkily--took hertemperature, felt her pulse, and retired downstairs to talk over thecase with Miss Todd, leaving a very cross and indignant patient behindhim. Ten minutes afterwards the door of the ivy room swung gently open, and Wendy's interested and sympathetic face made its appearance. 

"Di!" she whispered impressively; "I'm coming to see you, even if it'ssmallpox you've got. I'm supposed to be practising, but I just did abolt. Well, old sport, you do look an object, I must say!"

Diana hitched herself higher in bed. 

"You needn't be afraid. I'm not infectious, " she remarked. 

"They say you've got measles, " ventured Wendy. 

"Measles!" snorted Diana scornfully. "That's all they know about it. I've told them till I'm tired that it's nettle-rash. I've had it before. I always _do_ get the wretched thing when I eat sausages. They sort ofpoison me. It'll go away all right if they only let me alone. What didMiss Todd want bringing that black doctor up to see me? I had nearlyforty fits when he came marching into my room. "

"Well, he says you've got measles at any rate, and Toddlekins is in noend of a state. Thinks it's going to spread all through the school. D'you know she's making arrangements to send you to the Fever Hospital?They're to come and fetch you away in the ambulance. "

"_What!_ The idiots! I tell you I _haven't_ got measles. I won't go! Doyou think I'm going to let myself be bundled off to the Fever Hospitaljust because an ignoramus of a Hindoo doctor doesn't know his businesssufficiently to tell nettle-rash when he sees it? Rather not! I'd showfight first!"

"They'll roll you in blankets and carry you downstairs!" thrilled Wendy. 

"They'll do nothing of the sort--I'll take good care of that. I wouldn'tbe easy to carry if I kicked, even inside blankets. I never heard ofsuch an outrageous thing in all my life. I've some bounce left in meyet, and I'll use it--see if I don't! Measles, indeed! I wonder hedidn't say it was hydrophobia. "

"Well, whatever it is, you're to be taken to the Fever Hospital; they'veordered the ambulance. I'm awfully sorry, old sport! It's hard luck onyou. I must scoot now, and go back to my practising, or I shall haveBunty on my track. Bye-bye!"

Wendy vanished, leaving Diana alone and most upset. She considered thatshe was being treated abominably. She longed to telegraph to herparents, but she knew that was impossible. 

"Whatever happens, I'm not going to that wretched Fever Hospital, " shesaid to herself. "I'm sure Cousin Cora wouldn't like me to be takenthere. Why shouldn't I go to Petteridge? They're all well again from the'flu'. What a brain-wave! I declare I will, and tell Cousin Cora allabout it!"

Diana was nothing if not impetuous. She jumped up immediately, and begana hasty toilet. She was just three-quarters through with it when sheheard footsteps on the stairs. She immediately whisked her nightdress onover her clothes, and popped into bed just three seconds before MissTodd entered the room. The excitement of such a rush made her face moreflushed than ever. Miss Todd came and looked at her critically. 

"Yes, the rash is coming out very nicely, " she observed. 

"It's nettle-rash, not measles!" affirmed Diana defiantly. 

"That's for the doctor to decide, not you. I'm afraid you must havecaught it the day you went in the omnibus to Glenbury. It takes nearlya fortnight to incubate. "

Diana shivered with anxiety lest Miss Todd should wish to inspect theprogress of the rash on her chest as well as on her face, and thusdiscover that she was half clothed beneath her nightdress, butfortunately the head mistress did not descend so far in herinvestigations. Instead, she turned to Diana's drawers, and beganfilling a hand-bag with various necessaries. She did not mention theFever Hospital, probably judging it better not to prepare the patientbeforehand, but to wait until the ambulance arrived. Diana, of course, knew why she was collecting the garments, but feigned to ignore thematter, and made no comment. She wished Miss Todd would be quick and go. She was so terribly afraid that the ambulance might drive up before shehad the chance to make her escape. Flight seemed certainly preferable toa struggle. 

The mistress at last found a sufficiency of nightdresses and othergarments, and, telling Diana to keep herself covered up and warm, tookher departure. 

The moment she was safely out of the way the invalid sprang up andresumed her interrupted toilet. Diana had suffered from nettle-rashseveral times before, and the treatment had not included stopping in bedor even staying indoors. Her complaint was really more in the nature ofdyspepsia. She felt as if fresh air would do her good. She did not dareto walk downstairs in case she might meet anybody, so she decided toadopt the method she had found effective last autumn, and climb outthrough the window and down the ivy. Lessons were in progress, so nobodywould be in the garden to watch her, except Miss Carr and Miss Ormrod, who would probably be engaged with the horse or the hens. She swungherself out, therefore, and let herself down by the thick stems. Thenshe dodged round the house to the bicycle-shed. She did not yet possessa machine of her own, but Wendy's stood handy, and she knew her chumwell enough to borrow it. She wheeled it through the back gate, fortunately without meeting Miss Carr, and then set off at top-speed forPetteridge Court. 

Mrs. Burritt was naturally much surprised to see her young cousin turnup in so unexpected a fashion, and with a rash on her face, but she didthe most sensible thing in the circumstances: she put Diana to bed, andsent to Dunswick for a doctor. He arrived during the course of theafternoon, and, after a careful examination of his patient, pronouncedher complaint to be nettle-rash. 

"There's not a doubt about it!" he declared. "You need not be in theleast afraid that it's measles. "

Armed with a medical certificate to that effect, Mrs. Burritt motoredover to Pendlemere Abbey to patch up peace with Miss Todd. Partly forreasons of health, and partly to let the storm blow over, she keptDiana at Petteridge until the rash had entirely disappeared and the girlseemed in her absolutely normal condition. Mrs. Burritt took her back onthe understanding that bygones should be bygones, and a fresh startshould be made without any reference to former delinquencies. 

Miss Todd received Diana quite amiably, but insisted upon her having acarbolic bath, and herself washed her hair with strong disinfectantsoap. The clothes she had worn disappeared mysteriously for some days, and were then returned from the stoving department of the GlenburySanitation Office. Diana made no comments at head-quarters, but laughedto herself. 

"I'm sure Toddlekins believes I've had measles, " she confided to Wendy. 

"Of course she does. She said she hadn't the least doubt about it, andthat you hadn't eaten anything which could have caused you to havenettle-rash. "

"What would she say if she knew about the sausages?" queried Diana. 

CHAPTER XIV

Spooks

March had come, and even in the northern mountainous region ofthe Pennines, where snow lingers long after it has melted in morefavoured districts, winter had begun to make way for spring. Thesnowdrops--January flowers in Wales or Cornwall, fair maids of Februaryin most counties--were late bloomers at Pendlemere, and were never intheir prime till St. Patrick's Day. They made up for their tardy arrivalby their luxuriance. They grew almost wild in the orchard, and spreadlike a white carpet over the grass, tossing fairy bells in the wind. Diana, promoted to help Miss Carr in the spraying of apple-trees, pausedin her work to look round and revel in nature's re-awakening. She was asun lover, and the long months of perpetual mist and rain had tried hervery much. She had, to be sure, kept up her spirits in spite of weather;still, the sight of fleecy, white clouds scudding across a blue sky, andthe sound of the missel-thrush tuning up on the bare branch of theplum-tree were particularly cheering. Hedge-sparrows twittered among theshrubs, and rooks were busy flying with large twigs in their bills torepair their nests in the elms near the church. In the March sunshinethe lake glittered like gold. 

"I wonder if it looked just like this when the old monks lived here, "said Diana. "Did they see exactly what we do now?"

"Pretty much the same, I expect, " answered Miss Carr ratherabstractedly. "The lake and the fells would be there, and probably mostof the farms, though the buildings would be different in those days. Thelay brethren would attend to the land just as we do. I dare say they dugin this very orchard, and grew herbs in the same place where we're goingto plant our potatoes. "

"It's a pity we can't call up a vision of them!"

"No, thank you!" said Miss Carr, who was a practical person, and notgiven to romance. "I've not the slightest desire to see spooks. I'mquite content with modern life, and don't want fourteenth-century ghostsgliding about the place. Get on with your work, Diana! I'm moreconcerned with apple-trees than with the old monks. "

When Diana got an idea into her head, however, it was apt to stick. Shehad a lively imagination, and she liked to picture what the Abbey hadonce been. She read the account of it in the local guidebook and inChadwick's _Northern Antiquities_, which she borrowed from the library, and she further devoured Scott's _The Monastery_. Steeped in thismediæval atmosphere, she began to tell the girls such vivid stories ofthe doings of the brethren that they almost believed her. She inventedseveral fictitious characters: Brother Amos, Brother Lawrence, BrotherJohn, and Prior Andrew, and gave a most circumstantial account of theiradventures. 

"How do you know what they used to do?" asked Jess, much impressed. 

"I guess I sort of feel it, " said Diana. "It's almost like remembering. "

"Some people think we come back to earth and live again. Were you one ofthe old monks, Di?"

"She must have been an unholy one, if she was!" interrupted Sadie. "Anybody less like a monk than 'Stars and Stripes' I couldn't think of!"

"There were all sorts, of course. I've told you Brother Lawrence was upto tricks sometimes, and got the discipline. The Prior used to be downon him, just as Toddlekins is down on us. He was more sinner than saint. That's why he can't rest quietly. "

"Doesn't he rest?" Jess's voice held a note of uneasiness. 

"No, I don't think he does. I've a kind of feeling that he haunts theplace, coming back to find out what it's like now. "

"An earth-bound spirit!" gasped Jess. 

"Yes, he's got some sins to expiate, you see. "

The conversation was growing creepy. Sadie, Tattie, Jess, and Peggy, whowith Diana were squatting near the schoolroom fire in the gloaming, moved a little nearer together. There is comfort in physical contact. The fact that Brother Lawrence was entirely an invention of Diana's didnot relieve the tenseness of the situation; she had talked about him sooften that she seemed to have conjured him up. They could almost see hiswhite habit gliding along the corridor, and his unsaintly eyes gleamingfrom under his cowl. They began to wish he had behaved better during hislifetime, or at any rate that he had not chosen to revisit the scenes ofhis old sins. 

"If I were really to see him I'd have forty fits!" shivered Peggy, whowas a superstitious little soul who threw spilt salt over her leftshoulder, and curtsied religiously to the new moon. 

"It isn't everybody can see ghosts, " declared Diana. "You've got to havethe psychic faculty. Some people can feel they're there, even when theycan't see them. "

"Oh, that would be _far_ worse! It would be awful to know something wasin the room, and not be able to see it!" exploded Jess. "Tattie, may Icome and sleep in your bed to-night?"

"There's not much room, but you can if you like, " conceded Tattie; "solong as Geraldine doesn't find out. "

"I'll creep in when she's asleep. "

It was all very well for Diana to people the corridor with imaginarymonks; she knew they were images of her own creation; the moreweak-minded of her form mates, however, were frankly frightened. Nothingspreads more readily than a ghost scare. Sadie, Jess, and Peggie werebolting squealing along the passage one evening, when they almostcollided with Geraldine. She seized Jess by the arm, and pulled her intothe radius of the lamplight, nodding to the other two to follow. 

"I want a word with you, " she said. "It's high time you stopped thisridiculous nonsense. I don't know who started it, but it's getting thelimit. Oh, yes! I know you go creeping into Tattie's bed when you thinkI'm asleep, and you daren't walk upstairs alone. I'm not as blind ordeaf as you seem to suppose. You're putting silly ideas into juniors'heads. Whoever heard of the Abbey being haunted? Such stuff! You'll beafraid of your own shadows next. Do try to be more strong-minded! Ireally shouldn't have expected----"

Geraldine stopped, because something like a whirlwind suddenly descendedthe stairs and stampeded towards them. It resolved itself intoDiana--Diana with scarlet cheeks, shining eyes, and face simply bubblingover with excitement. 

"Hallo! I say!" she jodelled, "What _do_ you think?" Then she sawGeraldine, and halted dead. 

"Come here!" commanded the head girl. "I want to talk to you too aboutthis absurd spook scare. It's mostly among you intermediates, and thesooner you get it out of your silly heads the better. Pity you can'tfind something more sensible to talk about. Why don't you read, and fillup your empty brains? There are heaps of good books in the library, ifyou'd only get them out. You spend all your spare time gossiping. "

"We _do_ read!" retorted Diana, taking up the cudgels for the malignedintermediates. "I've just read _The Monastery_, and that's all about aghost called 'The White Lady of Avenel'. It's _grand_ where she ridesthe sacristan's mule down the river and sings:

 'Merrily swim we; the moon shines bright. Good luck to your fishing! Whom watch ye to-night?'

There are heaps and loads of ghost tales in the guide book and inChadwick's _Northern Antiquities_, and those are all books Miss Todd_told_ me I might read. She said they were 'educational'. "

"She didn't mean you to take the ghosts seriously, though, any more thanyou'd believe in the gods of Greece because you were learning classicalliterature. Why, you'll tell me next that you expect to see thefairies. "

"I'm not sure that I don't!"

"Then you're a bigger goose than I thought you. Really, at fourteen! I'mastonished at all of you. You don't see _me_ running squealing away fromsupposed ghosts. Don't let me catch you being such little idiots again. "

Having finished her harangue, and having, as she thought, thoroughlysquashed the folly of the intermediates, Geraldine proceeded on her way, happily oblivious of the faces they were pulling behind her back. 

"I'd like to see _her_ squeal and run, " grunted Jess. 

[Illustration: ITS COWL FELL BACK, AND DISCLOSED A WELL-KNOWN ANDDECIDEDLY MIRTHFUL COUNTENANCE]

"So should I, " agreed Sadie. "She's always _very_ superior. By the by, Stars and Stripes, what were you just going to tell us?"

"Nothing particular. "

Diana was looking preoccupied, as if her thoughts were far away. 

"I'm sure it was, " urged Sadie. "Don't be mean! Go on!"

"I've changed my mind. No, I'm _not_ going to tell you. It's no usebothering me, for I just shan't. "

"I think everybody's horrid to-night, " said Sadie, turning away muchoffended. 

It was on the very next evening that Ida Beckford, going to her bedroomin the gloaming, caught a glimpse of a white-robed figure with a cowlover its head gliding along the passage and up the stairs. Ida was notso strong-minded as Geraldine. She turned the colour of pale putty, andwent straight downstairs again to relate her psychic experience to herfellow seniors. She did not meet with the sympathy she expected. 

"Some silly trick of those intermediates, " sniffed Hilary. 

"I'll be down on them if they go shamming spooks, " threatened Geraldine. 

"If it happens again we'll set a watch and catch it, " declared Stuartloftily. 

Ida cheered up at this mundane view of the matter, and recovered hercolour; but she abandoned the blotter she was going to fetch, and stayedin her form-room instead of walking upstairs again. The news began tocreep about the school, however, that the Abbey was being haunted by aspiritual visitor. Many of the girls saw it glide along the landing inthe dusk, and disappear up a certain narrow flight of stairs. Now hereinlay the mystery. The stairs went up ten steps in full view of thepassage, then they turned a sharp corner, rounded a yard of landing, andwith four more steps ended in a locked attic door. Several of the mostventuresome members of the school had tried to follow the figure, butwhen they came round the corner, to their immense surprise it hadutterly disappeared. And there was absolutely no place in which it couldpossibly have concealed itself. 

"Has it crept through the keyhole?" quavered Peggy. 

"Or just vanished into thin air?" speculated Magsie. 

"The door's really locked!" declared Vi, rattling the handle again tomake sure. 

"We certainly _saw_ it go up, but it's not here now!"

"Flesh and blood can't disappear in a second!"

"It's most uncanny!"

"The old Cistercians wore white habits. "

"I say, I don't like this!"

Brother Lawrence, as the girls began to call the apparition, showedhimself frequently, but always with the same elusiveness. The phenomenonwas invariably as before: his white monastic robes would glimmerthrough the darkness, glide up the stairway, and then seemingly meltinto nothing. Geraldine herself pursuing hotly on the scent, found thatshe was utterly baffled. 

A head girl, especially a prefect with a scorn for superstition, doesnot like to admit herself baffled. Geraldine thought the matter over, took Loveday into her confidence, and went to Miss Todd. As the resultof her interview she resolved to set what she called "a very neat littlespook-trap". She and Loveday said nothing about it to the rest of theschool. They merely bided their time. 

Brother Lawrence did not always show up when anybody was on the watchfor him; he seemed to prefer displaying his supernatural powers to theunwary. For two whole days he did not put in an appearance; whether hewas haunting elsewhere or expiating his sins in purgatory was a pointfor discussion. On the third evening, however, Tattie, Jess, and Magsiehad screwed their courage to sticking-point, and strolled upstairs inthe twilight, half hoping and half fearing to catch a glimpse of the nowalmost familiar apparition. They kept in the shadow of the big cupboard, and held each others' hands without speaking. A full moon was shiningthrough the landing window, and lit up the narrow staircase with asilvery, ghostly gleam. Suddenly from the darkness of a doorway emergedthe white robes, and passed rapidly upwards in the moonlight. Stillclutching hands for moral support, the three girls tore after it. Surely this time they could manage to overtake it? But no; it had turnedthe corner before they reached the lowest stair, and by the time theyhad dashed up the ten steps it had made its usual disappearance. Theyhalted on the yard of landing, breathing hard; then their hearts seemedto turn somersaults, for the attic door suddenly opened. It was no ghostwho peered forth at them, but Geraldine and Loveday. The former had acandle in her hand; she struck a match and lighted it calmly. 

"You needn't look so scared!" she said to the panting trio. "I'm justgoing to show you your precious spook. Stand back a little, will you? Iassure you it won't bite you!"

She descended to the landing, turned round towards the four steps thatled to the attic door, then, to the immense amazement of the girls, raised up the steps like the lid of a chest. There was a good-sizedcavity below, and in this place of concealment crouched a white-cladfigure. Geraldine took it by the arm and hauled it unceremoniouslyforth. It issued chuckling, and, as its cowl fell back, disclosed awell-known and decidedly mirthful countenance. 

"Stars and Stripes!" ejaculated Jess. 

"The game's up!" proclaimed Diana coolly. "You two"--nodding at theseniors--"have been too many for me. "

"I always thought you were at the bottom of all this, Diana Hewlitt!"said Geraldine. "I was quite determined I'd catch you. Take thosethings off at once. What are they? Sheets? Fold them up properly; don'ttrail them on the floor. Do you know that if anybody in the school hadhad a weak heart you might have killed her by playing such a trick?"

"I knew you were all too strong-minded, " twinkled Diana. "Of course, nobody believed in Brother Lawrence, any more than they believed in thefairies or the gods of Greece. I guess it's rather nice sometimes tomake a sort of practical demonstration of one's reading. It shows oneappreciates the books and takes an intelligent interest. There are heapsof good books in the library. I'm going to borrow _Customs andSuperstitions of the Celts_. "

"You may borrow what you like, " said Geraldine grimly; "but if we've anymore of this business Miss Todd will settle it herself; so I tell you. "

"People who provide entertainment are rarely thanked, " sighed Diana, asshe folded the sheets. "I ought to receive a stipend for keeping theschool amused. "

"You'll receive something you don't bargain for, if you don't takecare, " warned Geraldine. "Go downstairs, all of you!"

That Brother Lawrence was identical with Diana did not very muchsurprise the school, but everybody went crazy over the discovery of thesecret hiding-place under the stairs. Even Miss Todd had not known ofits existence. Diana confessed that she had found it out quite byaccident, had rushed downstairs to communicate the thrilling news, buthad changed her mind as its obvious advantages flashed across her. Shehad not been able to resist making use of it to play a ghost trick. Thelittle chamber which she had so unexpectedly brought to light was onlyjust big enough to crouch in, and had probably been made in thetroublous times of the Stuarts as a place of temporary concealment whenthe Abbey was searched by soldiers. Unfortunately it was quite empty. 

"When I first opened it I expected to find a hoard of spade-guineas orsilver punch-bowls, " said Diana ruefully to Loveday--the two girls werediscussing the great discovery as they went to bed. "I nearly howledwhen I found nothing but dust. "

"I wonder, " answered Loveday, "if this is what that gentleman found--theone, I mean, who came to see Father when I had measles. You know I'vealways been hunting about for hiding-places. "

"Yes, I know. "

"I thought somehow it would be rather better than this, though. Ithardly seemed worth while his troubling to come and call; though, ofcourse, it's interesting. Mr. Fleming will be very thrilled. "

"I'd have been a great deal more thrilled if there'd been anything worthhaving inside. As I told you before, I expected spade-guineas. It's oneof the disappointments of my life!" declared Diana, getting into bed. 

CHAPTER XV

Joy-riding

The post at Pendlemere Abbey was distributed after breakfast, and thegirls devoured their correspondence in the short interval before lessonsbegan. One morning in April the usual weekly letter with the Parispostmark arrived addressed to "Miss Hewlitt", and, five minutes afterreceiving it, Diana came tearing down the corridor in search of Loveday. She looked the very incarnation of joy--her face was aglow, and her eyesshining. 

"Such news!" she gasped. "What d'you think? I'll give you three guesses. Father and Mother are coming over to England for Easter. I haven't seenthem since last September, and I'm simply off my head. Isn't it ripping?And that's not all, by any means. Come up to the ivy room, Loveday mine. I want to tell you all about it without those kids hanging aboutlistening to every word one says. Come now!"

Linking her arm in Loveday's, Diana dragged her friend upstairs, awayfrom the eyes and ears of inquisitive juniors, who were veritable littlepitchers where their elders' affairs were concerned. It was only whenthey were in the safety of their own sanctum that she fully unbosomedherself. 

"Somebody else is coming to England. It's my brother Giles. He's beenmade London correspondent of the _Louisville Herald_. He wanted mostfrightfully to join the army, but they wouldn't accept him because ofhis eyes. He'll be just standing on his head with joy at getting toEurope after all. Did I tell you he was in a newspaper office? He'scrossing next week, and he's to go and see Father and Mother in Parisfirst, then come back with them to England, and have a holiday before hebegins his new work. Dad's going to hire a car and take us a joy-ride, and Lenox is to get leave and join us. You know Lenox isn't demobilizedyet. He's in a camp in Wales. But he expects they'll give him about fivedays. Think of seeing Britain in a car, with Father and Mother and Gilesand Lenox! I want to shout!"

"You little lucker!" sympathized Loveday. 

"But that isn't all yet. I haven't finished telling you, " triumphedDiana, laying a fluffy head on her room-mate's shoulder, and poking acaressing finger into Loveday's dimples. "Mother said in her letter thatshe guessed I'd enjoy the tour so much more if I had a girl companionwith me, and would I like to ask one of my school friends? You bet Iwould! Ra--ther! Do you know whom I'm going to ask?"

"Wendy?"

"Wendy! No! I'm very fond of her, but she's not _the_ one for a tourlike this. Besides, I know she's going to the seaside with her own homefolks. There's only one person from Pendlemere I want, and that'sLoveday. Will you come? I'd just adore to have you!"

"O-o-o-oh! If your mother really asks me. "

"Of course she does! She says she's writing about it to Miss Todd. "

Such a dazzling prospect as a joy-ride through England was hardly to berefused. In due course Loveday's aunt gave her permission, and theinvitation was accepted. It was arranged for the motor tour to begin onEaster Tuesday, so as to allow Diana and her family to have a few quietdays together first. They were to spend them at Windermere, then callwith the car at Liverpool for Loveday, and also to pick up Lenox, whowould join them there from the American camp in Wales. 

Loveday went about the school feeling as if her reason were rocking. Shehad never imagined that anything so nice could happen to her. Since theloss of her parents life had not been too bright. Sometimes she almostdreaded the holidays at her aunt's. She was shy and sensitive, and theimpression that she was not altogether welcome there was a bitter one. It is very hard for a girl when she has no home of her own, and no onewhose special prerogative it is to love and encourage her. Though heruncle and aunt saw that she had everything needful in the way ofeducation and clothing, they never petted her, and she had grown upwith the starved feeling of the child who lacks kisses. She had toomuch self-respect to parade her woes at school, and perhaps her fellowseniors mistook her shyness for pride; they were nice to her, but shehad not a real confidante among any of them. It was Diana--Diana whomshe had at first resented as an intruder in the ivy room--who had brokendown the wall of her reserve and found the road to her heart. 

The remainder of the term passed quickly; the spring days were so fullwith lessons and land-work that time at the Abbey literally raced along. Nevertheless, with characteristic impatience, Diana crossed off thecalendar each evening, and counted the lessening dates in hugesatisfaction. Then came the joyful afternoon when trunks were broughtdown from the box-room, and the school began its congenial task ofpacking. The accustomed term-end routine was gone through, and nextmorning three tired mistresses saw twenty excited pupils safely intotheir respective railway carriages. 

"Only a week and we meet again, " said Loveday to Diana, whose trainstarted first. 

"Just seven days, " returned that damsel, leaning dangerously out of thecompartment window. "Guess I'm about living for that tour. If we don'thave the time of our lives, I'm much mistaken. Ta-ta till next Tuesday. "

Diana enjoyed the quiet week at Windermere with father, mother, andbrother, and though the little circle was not quite complete--for therewas a brother of seventeen at school in America--it was delightful tobe among her own family again. Mr. Hewlitt was very tired after his longspell of arduous work in Paris, and was glad to rest his brains, so theyspent most of the time boating on the lake, or strolling in the woods, getting new-made-over in the fresh, bracing country air. The car theyhad hired was to meet them at Lancaster. They went thus far south bytrain, then motored to Liverpool. Loveday, ready with suit-case packed, was eagerly expecting them. From the window of her aunt's drawing-roomshe watched the big six-seater car arrive at the door. Giles--amasculine edition of Diana, in spectacles--was driving. Lenox--a beamingkhaki-clad figure with twinkle-some brown eyes--sat by his side. Mr. AndMrs. Hewlitt and Diana were in the rear seat. A goodly pile of boxes andbaskets was strapped on to the luggage-carrier behind. A change ofplaces was effected, resulting in the two girls sitting with Giles inthe front. Loveday's suit-case was stowed away, her aunt waved good-bye, the electric-starter was applied, and the car moved off on its eventfuljourney south. 

It was a delightful way of travelling, to whiz along by road instead ofby rail. The country was just in the blush of spring, the woods werebursting into tender leaf, plum blossom made fairy lace-work in waysideorchards, and wallflowers and cowslips bloomed in cottage gardens. Giles, who drove the car, had planned out their tour carefully. He wasdetermined to see rural England to best advantage, and, instead ofkeeping always to the main roads, he intended to take by-ways, so as topass through typical country villages. Once free from the suburbs ofLiverpool, they avoided large towns as far as possible, as they madetheir way through Cheshire to the Midlands. Their first object was thatMecca of all American pilgrims--the Shakespeare country. 

"In five days we haven't time to look at everything as we go along, so Iguess we'd better just sprint till we get to Kenilworth, and start oursight-seeing there, " decreed Giles. 

He made an excellent chauffeur, and fortunately encountered no policetraps, though he certainly exceeded the speed limit when he saw a clearroad ahead. A lunch-basket with thermos flasks was packed in the car, and the party picnicked for their mid-day meal in a wood where primroseswere opening their little pale-yellow flowers, and king-cups blazed in amarshy ditch. The air was fresh with spring, and cuckoos were callingfrom the fields by a river. 

"When I was a small girl, " said Loveday, "I thought there was only onecuckoo in the world. People used to say: 'Oh, have you heard the cuckooyet?' so, of course, I thought there was only one. Nobody said: 'Haveyou seen the swallow yet?' when swallows returned. I was fearfullypuzzled one day when I heard _two_ cuckoos both cuckooing at once. "

They reached Kenilworth just at sunset, when a crimson sky was flamingbehind the old castle, and glowing on the windows of the picturesquecottages that faced the ancient ruin from the other side of the villagegreen. Its grey walls, magnificent even in their decay, seemed teemingwith historic memories, and, in the glamour of the sunset, they couldalmost, in imagination, restore the half-legendary splendour of itslater days, and picture Queen Elizabeth arriving there on her famousvisit to the Earl of Leicester. It was too late to do any exploring thatevening, so, after a halt to admire the beauty of the scene, they wenton to their hotel, promising themselves to make it the first object oftheir sight-seeing to-morrow. 

"It seems so extraordinary, " said Mr. Hewlitt at dinner, "that everylittle bit of ground we're passing over now has a history that datesright back to the Middle Ages. It's a wonderful corner of England, andso unspoilt. Half of the houses look as if they'd stepped straight outof an artist's canvas. "

For the next few days the party lived with guidebooks in their hands. They thoroughly explored Kenilworth Castle, tried to call up a vision ofthe pageant that was presented before Queen Elizabeth there, anddeplored the tragic fate of poor Amy Robsart. Then the car splashedthrough the ford at the foot of the wood, and carried them along theWarwick Road, past Blacklow Hill, where Piers Gaveston was executed, andwhere, it is said, his restless spirit still rides at drear midnight, toGuy's Cliff, with its old Saxon mill and romantic view of the Avon. Then on to Warwick, to look at the treasures of a castle fortunatelyuntouched by the ravages of war, and the beautiful Beauchamp Chapel, with its tomb of the "King Maker". They could have stayed a long time inancient, picturesque Warwick, admiring the quaint, old houses and thesmooth stretches of the river, but the attractions of Stratford lay onlyeight miles away, and they had booked their rooms in advance at thehotel there. None of them ever forgot their first entry intoShakespeare's town. It was the season of his anniversary, and in hishonour flags decorated the black-and-white houses, and dainty littlemaidens, with May garlands of flowers, came tripping down thesixteenth-century streets. Our pilgrims did their devoirs in orthodoxfashion, beginning with Shakespeare's birthplace and its museum ofrelics, going on to the Grammar School where he learned his "littleLatin and less Greek", to the remains of his house "New Place", and histomb and monument in the glorious old church. They could hardly tearthemselves away from Anne Hathaway's thatched, half-timber cottage atShottery, with its carved, four-post Elizabethan bedstead, its gardenfull of rustic flowers, and its ingle-nook where perhaps Shakespeare satto woo. 

"If we could only take it just as it is, and carry it out to America, "sighed Diana. 

"But it would be nothing without its surroundings, " said Loveday. "It'sbecause Shakespeare seems associated with every corner of Stratford thatthe whole place is so fascinating. Wherever you go you feel as if youwere following him round. I'd like to spend a month here, and do eachseparate spot leisurely and quietly. "

If the whole of the projected tour was to be carried out, and theShakespeare villages inspected, not to speak of Edgehill, Evesham, Broadway, and Gloucester, which they had also set their hearts onseeing, it was impossible to do more than rush through the varioussights, so their boxes were once more strapped on to theluggage-carrier, and the car set off on its further travels. 

They did not escape the usual accidents that delay motorists: a tyreexploded one afternoon with a terrific bang, and the ladies of the partyhad to sit for an hour by the roadside, while the men-folk fixed on theStepney wheel. Giles's love for by-roads landed him sometimes indifficulties. He whisked them once down a charming primrose-starredlane, only to find that it ended in a ford. As you cannot run a carthrough even the shallowest river without stopping the engine, it wasevidently a case of "thus far and no farther", and there was nothing forit but a return to the highway. There was no room to turn in the narrowlane, so the car had to back the whole distance to the road--a mostdifficult performance between high banks and round sharp corners, andone which required all Giles's skill as a chauffeur. Another time, trying a short cut across some fields, the car ran into soft earth andrefused to stir. Her occupants got down and tried with their unitedefforts to push her out of her "slough of despond", but with no effect. Giles kept starting the engine, but the wheels, instead of gripping, simply turned round and round, and sank deeper into the soil. They wereobliged to go to a farm for help, and have planks fixed under the wheelsbefore the heavy car could move on to terra firma and proceed with itsjourney. These little accidents, however, all added a spice of adventureand fun to the tour; the young folks, at any rate, did not wisheverything to be too plain sailing; they thoroughly enjoyed the romanticside of the trip, and liked to get off the beaten track into the wildsof the country. They had brought all sorts of wonderful contrivances forcooking the mid-day lunch, which they always ate out-of-doors. There wasan apparatus with a spirit-lamp for making coffee, which whistled like acanary when the beverage was brewed; there was a marvellous doublefrying-pan, heated merely by strips of newspaper being lightedunderneath it, which cooked eggs and sausages with surprising speed; andthere was a neat canteen-basket with cups, plates, spoons, forks, andknives all ready to hand. In their enthusiasm the boys would have likedto sleep in the car had that been possible, and Lenox often regrettedwistfully that they had not brought tents with them to pitch for thenight. 

"No, thanks, " said Mr. Hewlitt. "You youngsters may enjoy that sort ofthing; but I consider this British climate is too damp for camping out, and I much prefer a comfortable bed at a decent hotel. "

"Besides which, the hotels are so delightfully old-world and quaint, Ishouldn't like to miss them, " added Mrs. Hewlitt. 

"Rather _too_ old-world sometimes, " shivered her daughter. 

Diana had had an unpleasant experience the night before. Generally sheand Loveday slept together, but on this occasion they had been givenseparate rooms. Diana, who had a tiresome trick of waking, furiouslyhungry, in the small hours of the morning, put a couple of biscuitsunder her pillow before she got into bed, so as to be prepared for anyemergencies of appetite. She woke suddenly in the night, with thehorrible sensation that a hand was groping under her pillow. Sheswitched on the electric light by her bedside, but nothing was to beseen. Thinking she must have been dreaming, she switched off the lightand lay down again. Hardly was she settled, and sinking off to sleep, when once more came a most unmistakable movement under her pillow. Thoroughly scared, she switched on the light, only to find nothing. Whenthis happened a third time she no longer dared remain in the dark, solighted a candle which fortunately stood on the mantelpiece, and placedit on a table not far from her bed. She could not see everything in theroom, and lay watching with wide-open eyes. For a few minutes all wasabsolutely still; then came a slight noise, and along the rail at thefoot of the bed ran something with whiskers, either a young rat or thevery biggest mouse she had ever seen. 

"Sh-sh-sh-oo-oo!" cried Diana, sitting erect in bed with roundfrightened eyes. The intruder, equally terrified, took the hint to quit, and scuttled noisily away. The idea that it might return to seek herbiscuits was too much for Diana. 

"Even if I eat them it'll come back to see if they're there, " shethought. "I'd have a fit if I felt it under my pillow again. I can'tsleep another wink in here, that's certain. I'd as soon have spooks asrats or mice. I'm going to Loveday. "

So, though the time was about 1 a. M. , she jumped up, seized the candle, and managed to find her way along the passage to her friend's room. Loveday, much astonished to be thus awakened, took her into her bed, andthey laughed over the little adventure. 

"Oh, yes, it's all very fine to laugh, " said Diana. "But if _you_ wereall alone you wouldn't like it yourself. Nothing will induce me to sleepby myself again in a strange hotel; so I warn you. You'll be saddledwith your pixie girl for the rest of the tour. She's a scared baby atnights, and she doesn't mind confessing it. Rats--ugh! The very name ofthem makes me creep. "

CHAPTER XVI

A Family Crest

After the joys of Stratford-on-Avon came the delights of the rest of thefascinating Shakespeare villages. "Piping Pebworth", "Dancing Marston", "Drunken Bidford", "Haunted Hillborough", "Hungry Grafton", "PapistWixford", and "Beggarly Broom" were visited and rejoiced over in turn;then the car wended its way from Warwickshire to sample the glories ofGloucestershire. Here, too, our pilgrims found plenty to arouse theirenthusiasm: the richness of the landscape, with orchards just breakinginto bloom; the slow winding rivers, with their willowy, reedy banks;the beautiful half-timbered manors and farms and the thatched cottagesset in a tangle of greenery, made an ideal picture of English countrylife. They saw it at the cream of the year, in all the glory of springtints and blossoms, and even if showers came on they put up the hood ofthe car and whisked along wet roads, admiring the freshness of therain-washed leaves and the effects of gathering storm-clouds overdistant hills. They were a full day's journey beyond Stratford whensuddenly there happened that most common misfortune to motorists, "something wrong with the car". Giles just managed to run her into thenearest village, then, stopping at the inn, he sent for the services ofthe blacksmith, who was somewhat of a mechanic, and with his aid set towork on repairs. Leaving Giles, with his coat off and his sleeves rolledup, crawling under the car and getting exceedingly oily and dusty in theprocess, the rest of the party set off to explore the neighbourhood onfoot. The village was so charming that they could really hardly grumbleat being held up there. Each cottage seemed a picture, with its thatchedor red-tiled roof, black-and-white walls, creeper-covered porch, and gaylittle garden. So luxuriant were the flowers that they even strayedthrough the railings and made bright borders among the grass at the edgeof the road; forget-me-nots were mixed up with dandelions, andwallflowers bloomed side by side with dead-nettles. 

At the end of the village, on a rise overlooking the river, stood theparish church, a grey, old Early-English building whose pricelessarchitecture had mercifully not been tampered with by the ruthless handof the so-called restorer. With a little difficulty Lenox found thecottage of the caretaker, whose wife presently came up clanking the bigkeys and unlocked the west door for them. The interior was mostbeautiful: the graceful sandstone pillars, the interlacing arches, thedelicate tracery of the windows with their old stained glass, the blackoak roof, the carved choir stalls, the ancient rood-screen, the blazonedshields and faded banners, the Lancastrian tombs and the Elizabethanbrasses, all combined to give that atmosphere which Milton expressed inhis _Il Penseroso_; and as the afternoon sunlight flooded through theold stained glass, and cast blue and crimson gleams on the tiled floorof the chancel, the glorious building seemed like the prayers of manygenerations crystallized into stone. 

Their guide, a young woman in a sun-bonnet, took them round to show themthe various points of interest. It was when they had duly examined thebanners and the Norman font, the carving on the miserere seats and themotto on the base of the lectern, and had listened rather wearily to thesing-song description of them poured out, like a lesson learned by rote, from the lips of their conductress, that in the side chapel they cameface to face with an ancient tomb. It was an unusually beautiful one, carved in marble, probably by some Italian master-craftsman of the latefifteenth century. A knight clad in full armour lay stretched out in hislast sleep; his clasped hands rested over the good sword whose handleformed a cross upon his breast; the attitude of the inclined head andthe sculpture of the strong, lined, noble face in its utter repose weremagnificent, and recalled the marvellous art that created the busts ofthe emperors in the days of Rome's zenith. Round the base of the tombwere small figures in the costume of the period, somewhat defaced andworn, with finely-carved pilasters between the panels. At the end was acoat of arms. 

Lenox walked round with the others, admiring the beauty of thesculpture, though rather bored by the eloquence of their guide. At sightof the coat of arms, however, he stopped and whistled. 

"By all that's wonderful, that's our family crest!" he exclaimed. 

Here was an excitement! At once the whole party began to examine theancient, worn escutcheon, on which was depicted a chained eagle with acrown on its head, three arrows, and the motto _Manu et corde_ (withhand and heart). 

"It's _exactly_ the same!" declared Lenox. "Dad has a copy of the crestin an old book that his grandfather brought out from England more than ahundred years ago. "

"It's the arms of the de Cliffords, " said their guide, shaken out of hersing-song recitation into first-hand information. "You'll find the samecrest on those monuments over there in the nave. "

"Dad always said we were descended from an old family, " rejoined Lenox, immensely thrilled. 

That their young cousin should have discovered the tombs of hisancestors in the village church was certainly a matter of great interestto the Hewlitts. They besieged their guide with questions. She could notreally tell them very much, except that from mediæval times theCliffords had owned the soil, and that the Manor House was now in thepossession of Mrs. Elliot, a daughter of old Squire Clifford who haddied many years ago. 

"It was before I was born, but I've heard my father speak of him, " sheadded. 

"Where is the Manor House?" asked Lenox eagerly. 

"Two miles beyond the village. It's a beautiful old place too, with amoat round it, and big stone gates. "

"Is it possible to look over it?"

The guide shook her head emphatically. 

"No. Mrs. Elliot won't have anyone coming. She's an old lady and veryinfirm, and she can't bear to see strangers about the place. At one timeshe'd let people look round with a guide, but she found them sobothersome she stopped it. One day some Americans came and peepedthrough the windows when she was having her lunch, and wouldn't goaway. "

"I'm sorry they were Americans, " put in Mrs. Hewlitt. "My countrymendon't often so forget their manners, I'm glad to say. "

"Well, at any rate, " smiled the guide, "both English and Americans madethemselves nuisances, and she wouldn't let any more tourists come near. She has the great gates locked, and whoever wants to go in, no matter onwhat errand, must ring the lodge-keeper's bell, and it's only her ownvisitors, or the tradespeople with meat and groceries and such like asare admitted. They say she's gone almost queer in her head about it. "

"What a pity!" sighed Diana. 

"Still, you can hardly blame her, " added Mrs. Hewlitt. "It must be verytrying to live in a show place. I'm afraid, Lenox, you'll have to giveup the idea of going over it. Is anything to be seen from the road?"

"Nothing of the house; it's all hidden by the trees. You can only seethe great gates. "

"It would hardly be worth a four-mile walk, just for the gates, " decidedMrs. Hewlitt. "If the car's not ready yet we'll just take a conveyanceand drive to Ratcliffe this afternoon. "

The car repair proved a tougher job than either Giles or the blacksmithhad anticipated, and, as it apparently could not be finished for manyhours, the Hewlitts arranged to make an excursion in a wagonette, and, as the inn seemed comfortable, to return to the village, spend the nightthere, and proceed on their way the next morning. Though her mother haddismissed all question of visiting the old Manor House, Diana stillharped on the subject. She and Lenox talked it over in private afterdinner. They were sitting in the porch of the hotel, watching the lightsbegin to gleam in the windows down the village street. Mr. And Mrs. Hewlitt were writing letters; Giles and Loveday had disappeared into thegarden to try to hear a nightingale reputed to sing there. 

"Len, " said Diana, "you oughtn't to leave this place without seeing yourancestral home. Think of having an ancient ancestral family home! It'san immense idea! Aren't you just crazy to go and look at it?"

Lenox rolled his cigarette carefully, and lighted it before replying. 

"So crazy that I mean to go, " he admitted at last. "Don't say anythingabout it to the others, but I'm planning to get up early, climb over theManor House wall, and take a peep at the outside of the old place at anyrate before anybody's about. That much won't do the old lady's nervesany harm. Besides, who's to find out?"

"What a ripping notion!" Diana drew her breath admiringly. "Oh, Len, I_must_ go too! I simply _must_! I'd give everything in the world to seeyour family manor. That woman said it has a moat. I've never seen a realmoated British manor. "

"If you could be up by five?" suggested Lenox. 

"Couldn't I? Just you wait and see! I'll be all dressed and ready andstanding in the hall by five o'clock. Oh, what _topping_ fun! Don't letus tell a soul about it. We'll just keep it to ourselves. "

"_Ra_--ther! I'm not going prating about my plans, I can tell you. "

Diana was almost sorry that her mouse scare had made her decide to sleepwith Loveday. She did not want to be questioned beforehand about herexpedition. Fortunately her room-mate was very sleepy next morning, andslumbered tranquilly on while the stealthy process of early dressingwent forward. She did not lift an eyelid when Diana opened the door andcrept downstairs. The big clock on the landing had not yet struck five, but Lenox was already waiting in the hall. He grinned as Diana joinedhim. 

"You _are_ a sport!" he whispered. 

They let themselves out softly, and in another minute were walking downthe village street. The clocks were at "summer time", an hour forward, so it was really only four o'clock. The sun had not risen yet, though itwas quite light already. The air felt deliciously fresh, birds weresinging, and cattle lowing. Here and there a cottage door opened, and alabourer came out, who looked at them with speculative curiosity as theypassed by. They were soon through the village and along the road thatled in the direction of the Manor. On either side lay pastures withclumps of yellow cowslips, the faint fragrance of which was wafted onthe pleasant air. Diana could not resist scaling a fence and going togather some, though she got her shoes soaked with the morning dew. Downa hill, along the river side, and up through a long avenue of elms ranthe road, till at last a high oak fence took the place of the hedge;this in its turn gave way to a wall, and presently to the left loomed apair of great ornamental iron gates, with a lodge at the side. 

An archway across, surmounted by a stone escutcheon, bore the Cliffordcrest, so there was no doubt that they had reached their destination. The gates were padlocked together, and the blinds were drawn in thelodge; evidently the keeper was not an early bird. 

"How are we going to get in?" asked Diana. 

"Not here, certainly. We'll go back to that oak paling, and climb over. Don't you feel as if we were poachers?"

"Yes, or burglars! I guess we've got to burgle quietly. Hope the oldlady hasn't set man-traps in her park. "

"Or doesn't leave savage bloodhounds to roam at large and guard thepremises. Well, we shall have to take our chance. It's rather likestorming a fortress--isn't it?"

"I call it precious!" chuckled Diana. 

The fence did not look too easy to scale. It was of solid oak pales setupright, and was about six feet in height. Its straight surface did notoffer any foothold. For some distance they wandered along, ratherdiscouraged, but at last an overhanging tree seemed to promise hope. Lenox lifted up Diana till she could catch hold of a branch, then, withconsiderable boosting and scrambling, she swung herself over. Lenoxdropped after her directly, and the adventurous pair stood within thepark. 

So far, so good. They were certainly trespassing, but they consideredthat their errand justified the deed. Lenox had brought his hand camera, and hoped to get a snap-shot of the old place to take back to America toshow his father. He had ascertained that no picture post cards of itwere obtainable in the village. They could see the twisted chimneysrising over the top of a thick grove of trees and shrubs, so they turnedtheir steps in that direction. Over some grassy park-like land theytramped, where rabbits were still scuttling about, and a few tame deerwere grazing; then through a thicket of trees and under a belt ofornamental shrubs. All at once, as they scrambled from the shade of somerhododendrons, they caught their first view of the Manor. It was aglorious old mansion, built partly in half-timber and partly in greystone, with an embattled tower for entrance, and a stone bridge crossingthe moat that encircled the walls. The morning sun shone direct on itsmullioned, diamond-paned windows, its twisted chimney stalks, ivy-cladwalls, and smooth, green stretch of water. Nothing could have been morecharming for a photograph, and, to make the picture absolutely perfect, a pair of stately swans came sailing along the moat. Lenox pulled hiscamera from its case, ventured forth from the cover of the bushes, andbegan to focus. Diana followed closely at his elbow. They were brimfulof excitement. Here they were actually facing the "ancestral home" ofthe Clifford family. 

"Don't you wish you lived here?" sighed Diana. 

"Rather! But no such luck!"

"If the old lady has no children perhaps you'll turn out to be theheir, " said Diana wistfully. 

"She has nephews, " said Lenox, dashing her hopes. "Besides, we must be avery far-off branch of the family tree. It's a hundred years since wesettled in America. Now don't nudge me. I've just got the thingfocused--swans and all. "

Lenox pressed the button, and turned the film on to No. 2, then lookedabout him. 

"I'm going to take the whole half-dozen, " he announced. "Let's move onand get a different view. "

There was not a soul to be seen. With the exception of the swans, theinhabitants of the Manor did not seem to be early risers. Lenox andDiana grew bolder, and ventured nearer. By degrees they got right to theedge of the moat. The view here was beautiful, for it took in the bridgeand the embattled tower, with the coat of arms over the doorway. It wasexactly what they wanted to carry home to America. Lenox snapped it withhuge satisfaction, including the swans, which luckily swam into thescene at the psychological moment. 

"I'd give worlds to be able to go inside and explore, " said Diana. "Iwish I could make myself invisible. D'you think we dare just toddleacross the bridge, and perhaps peep in through a window? There's nobodywatching. O-o-o-oh!"

She might well exclaim, for, in direct contradiction to her words, thedoor at that moment opened, and an elderly lady made her appearance. Shewalked slowly with the aid of a cane, but it was evident that she hadseen the intruders on her property, and was coming to tackle them. Swift and hasty flight seemed the only way out of the difficulty. 

"Quick, Lenox! Run!" gasped Diana. 

She turned, as she spoke, to make a dash for the cover of the shrubs, but in her hurry and agitation she tripped on her dangling shoe lace, missed her footing, slipped, tumbled down the bank, and fell backwardswith a splash into the moat. 

It was not very deep, and Lenox hauled her out in a minute. There shestood upon the bank a dripping object, her nice dress all coated withduckweed and green slime. Her hat was floating away in the direction ofthe swans. The lady had crossed the bridge, and with the help of hercane walked painfully down the bank. Lenox and Diana felt like a pair ofnaughty school children caught stealing apples. The situation was mostignominious. Their faces would have made a study for a comic artist, especially Diana's, with smears of duckweed on her cheeks, and her moisthair hanging over her shoulders. They wondered what Mrs. Elliot wasgoing to say to them. 

She came slowly up, blinking her eyes rather nervously, looked Dianaover from dripping head to muddy shoes, then made the obvious comment:

"You're very wet!"

"Ye-e-es!" shivered Diana, with chattering teeth. 

"You'd better come indoors and have your clothes dried. "

The relief of receiving such a charitable reception, instead of thestern rebuke they felt they deserved, was intense. Lenox suddenly burstinto a flood of gentlemanly apologies. He explained rapidly that hisname was Clifford, that he had seen his father's coat of arms in thechurch, and had been tempted to trespass in order to secure somephotographs of the house that was probably the old home of their family. Mrs. Elliot listened till he had finished. 

"I'd have given you permission if you had asked, " she replied calmly. "Now it's time that your sister--cousin, is she?--took off those wetclothes, or she'll catch cold. "

Diana marvelled at Mrs. Elliot's goodness. She was taken indoors, andlent some garments while her own were dried. The household was anearlier one than they had supposed, and in answer to the mistress's bellcame servants who were too well trained to express surprise in theirfaces at the sight of a dripping visitor. An elderly maid showed Dianato a bedroom, rubbed her hair for her with a towel, helped her into apink silk kimono dressing-gown, and brought her a cup of hot tea. Theseprecautions against cold having been taken, Mrs. Elliot most kindlyvolunteered to show the young people over the house. It was a funnylittle procession: the elderly lady with her cane; Lenox, in his khaki, still blurting out apologies; and Diana trailing the pink kimono, whichwas much too long, and shuffling in bronze-beaded shoes that were twosizes too large. The glories of the old Manor left them gasping: thebig banqueting hall with its armour and tapestries, the panelled oakboudoir, the library with its family portraits, the wide staircase, thedrawing-room with its cabinets and priceless china, the state bedroomwith the carved four-post bed where Queen Anne had slept, the courtyardand dove-cote where pigeons were strutting and preening their feathers, and the little chapel with its coats of arms in the stained glass, andchained Bible. Through a window they could see the garden, with clippedyew hedges and smooth lawn, and a peacock spreading its gorgeous tail tothe morning sun. 

"If your great-grandfather went to America a hundred years ago you areprobably descended from either Guy, Charles, or Humphrey Clifford, " saidMrs. Elliot, showing Lenox a family genealogical tree that hung in thehall. 

"I know my great-grandfather's name was Humphrey, " answered Lenox, "andthe dates would seem to correspond. "

Diana's clothes were dried at last, and brushed. Even her hat, by theaid of a fishing-rod, had been recovered from the moat. Though rathercrushed and spoilt they were quite wearable. She felt herself again whenshe had put them on. Mrs. Elliot sent a servant to conduct the youngpeople to the lodge, and order the gate to be unlocked for their exit. She received their renewed apologies and thanks in the same calm mannerin which she had greeted them. 

"I hope the photos will come out well, " were her last words, as shestood at the door watching them walk across the bridge. 

When Lenox and Diana returned to the inn, and burst upon the rest of theparty, who were having breakfast, their extraordinary story was at firstscarcely believed. 

"Bunkum, my boy!" said Giles, shaking his head. 

But the two witnesses gave such a circumstantial account of theiradventure that incredulity turned to amazement, and then amusement. 

"You cheeky young cubs!" declared Mr. Hewlitt. "I think Mrs. Elliot wasfar too good to you. "

"You got more than you deserved; but I'm grateful to her for drying you, Diana, " commented Mrs. Hewlitt. 

"I wish we'd been with you, " said Giles. "You've had all the luck. "

As the car was now repaired, the party once more packed up theirbaggage, and set forth for the short remainder of their tour. Lenox'sleave was nearly over; Giles would be due in London next week; and Mr. Hewlitt's business in Paris was not yet concluded. After another day'senjoyment they parted at Cheltenham, and sent the girls back to schoolby train. 

"We shan't forget you, dear, " said Mrs. Hewlitt to Loveday, as she sawthem off. "You must come and see us again some time--perhaps inAmerica. Take care of my little Diana for me--won't you?"

"I will--I will, indeed! Oh, I don't know how to thank you! It's beenjust the absolute time of my life!" said Loveday, leaning out of thecarriage window as she waved good-bye. 

CHAPTER XVII

The Green-eyed Monster

With the summer term came a period of great outdoor activity atPendlemere. Miss Chadwick, Miss Carr, and Miss Ormrod were tremendouslybusy on the land, and gave the school a thorough initiation into theprinciples of gardening. The girls studied birds, noted what insectsthey ate, and how useful they were in a garden; they learned thelife-histories of certain insects, and the causes of some plantdiseases; they organized an amateur weather bureau, and kept charts ofthe progress of their crops. Everybody agreed that the new regime wasmuch more interesting than that of the old days when the gardening hadall been done for them, and they had only lounged about the lawn andplayed tennis. Each flower seemed twice as beautiful when they hadhelped to grow it, and the vegetables of their own cultivation werevoted prize-winners. 

Diana, in consideration of her great love for horses, was allowed togive some assistance in Baron's toilet, and even sometimes to drive him, a privilege (dependent on good behaviour) which made her supremelyhappy. 

On the whole, though Miss Todd was undoubtedly rather strict, the girlsdecided that the school was jollier than in Mrs. Gifford's days. Theydid not forget their former Principal, who wrote to them sometimes fromher new home and told them about her life in Burma, but they hadaccepted the changed conditions, and had grown to like them. The outdoordepartment seemed to bring a much wider current of life into Pendlemere. Miss Chadwick and her two assistants were thoroughly modern, and woulddiscuss all sorts of up-to-date problems, so that the school kept intouch with the outside world instead of living in the narrow rut of itsown little round of lessons and amusements. This term four elderstudents had come, principally to study gardening under Miss Chadwick. They were girls of eighteen and nineteen, who, instead of being placedamong the school, took somewhat the position of the old-fashioned"parlour boarder" of sixty years ago, and were on terms of intimacy withthe mistresses. Naturally they were the envy and admiration of thoseless fortunate beings who were still only ordinary pupils. They weregood-natured to the schoolgirls, but held themselves a little aloof. Sometimes, in a rather superior manner, they would condescend to befriendly. Each had her own train of worshippers. The prettiest and mostattractive of the four was Adeline Hoyle, a tall, fine-looking girl withdark eyes, a very fair skin, and thick coils of brown hair twisted intoa classic knot. There was a calm dignity about her and a charm ofmanner that was exceedingly taking. It bowled over Diana's heartentirely. She took a sudden and most violent affection for Adeline. Shewould hang about to try to get a word with her, flush crimson at theslightest notice from her idol, and was ready to perform anything in theway of odd jobs. She even took up sewing--a much neglected part of hereducation--in order to embroider a handkerchief-case as a birthdayoffering. It is an exhilarating, but rather wearing process to beviolently in love, especially when you are decidedly doubtful as towhether the loved object in the least appreciates your attentions. Adeline would accept Diana's sweets or flowers with a kind "Thank you", and then pat her on the shoulder and tell her to run away. She wouldsometimes allow her to link arms in the garden, but it was suffered withan air of amused tolerance. It was obvious that she very much preferredthe society of Hilary, who was nearer her own age, and that she regardedintermediates as mere children. Diana, who was eccentric in her likesand dislikes, but very keen when she took a fancy to anybody, wentthrough all the stages of longing, hope, elation, despair, and jealousy. When she saw Hilary received into supreme favour, the green-eyed monsterswooped down and took possession of her. Loveday, who had watched theprogress of the affair with some distress, offered what consolation shecould in the sanctuary of the ivy room. 

"Adeline's really very good to you, " she comforted. 

"Yes, but she doesn't care twopence, " raged Diana. "I know she's niceand kind and all that, but she loves me with the love she'd give to adistressed negro or a starved cat. I want her to _want_ me--and shedoesn't one little bit! She just tolerates me sometimes, and that's all. What she can see in Hilary I can't imagine. I think Hilary's the mostdetestable girl in the school. I always have disliked her. I _hate_ hernow!"

"Some people say that hating anybody sends out 'thought-forms' likehideous daggers into the invisible world, and they do dreadful harm, andin the end they come back to their owners like curses. Can't you manageto send out some prettier thoughts?"

"No, Loveday Seton; I can't, and won't, and shan't!" said Dianaemphatically, screwing up mouth and eyes into one of her ugliest faces. "I'm not going to pretend I like Hilary when I don't--that would be afiblet and worse than red daggers. Yes, you can call me naughty if youlike. I've got to the stage when I don't care. "

Knowing by experience that Diana generally received suggestions in thisway, but sometimes ruminated over her remarks afterwards, Lovedayshelved the question of thought-forms and their possible ill effects, and petted her spoilt room-mate instead till she cajoled her into abetter temper. The green-eyed monster still reigned, however, and Dianasat at tea-time flashing, if not red daggers, very obvious untowardglances, as she caught a smile of comprehension pass between Adeline andHilary. Nobody had time to take much notice of her heroics. 

Everyone was too busy discussing school affairs. The very latest newswas that the boat-house was at last to be unlocked, the boat thoroughlyoverhauled and painted, and that mistresses and students would go rowingon the lake. A rumour even began to circulate that certain favouredmembers of the school might be taken as passengers. 

"We used when Mrs. Gifford was here, " said Wendy. "She often got Mr. Thwaites from the village to come and row us. It was top-hole. And oncehe let Tattie and me try to row, but I 'caught a crab' and dropped theoar. I'd soon learn though, if I'd another chance. "

"We ought to have two or three boats, " decided Sadie. 

"One for each form, " amended Vi. 

"You bet it's only seniors who'll have any luck, " groused Diana, who wasstill in the depths of despondency. 

"There's no knowing, " said Jess hopefully. 

Though they might not be certain of sharing in the pleasure ofnavigating the lake, there was at least an element of anticipation inthe matter. It was just possible that some fine day Miss Todd might sayto one of them: "Put on your jersey and you may go for a row". They feltit was one of those sporting chances that sometimes turn up in a life. They hung about the boat-house wistfully when Mr. Appleton from Glenburydid his task of overhauling, and if he went away for a few minutes theytook advantage of his absence to scramble in and sit inside the boat andimagine how delightful it would feel to be really on the water. Theybegan to practise boat-songs, just to be ready for any emergency, andwould sit on the landing-place singing "Row, brothers, row!" or "Mybarque is on the shore". 

It was very exciting when repairs got to the painting stage, especiallywhen Diana did not notice, and took a leap inside, with equal disasterto Mr. Appleton's nice coat of paint and her own serge skirt. Great wasthe day when the _Peveril_ at last was dry, and Mr. Appleton launchedher himself on the lake, and took Miss Todd, Miss Beverley, and MissChadwick for a trial trip. The school, watching enviously from the bank, decided that nothing but a steamer, or a small fleet of rowboats couldsatisfy its demands. They considered rowing ought to be a part of everygirl's education. 

As Diana had prophesied, the intermediates came in for no luck. MissChadwick and her assistants, with the four gardening students, monopolized the _Peveril_. They took Miss Todd, Miss Beverley, and MissHampson out for airings on the lake; occasionally a senior was invited, and once the four youngest girls in the school were given a brief treat. All the rest had just to look on and long. Diana, indeed, extorted asort of half promise from Adeline that some time, when it wasconvenient, and if she was not too busy, and if nobody else wanted theboat, she would let her realize her ambition, but so far this promisehad remained an empty one, a vague invitation that meant nothing. Diana, catching Adeline in the garden one afternoon, made a desperate effort toobtain its fulfilment. 

[Illustration: DIANA CALLED AND SHOUTED TO THEM. THEY TOOK NO NOTICE]

"Just for ten minutes, " she pleaded. 

"I'm so busy, " evaded Adeline. "I've got seedlings to plant out, andreally haven't time to take people on the lake. What a bother you are, Diana!"

"You said you would some time. "

"Well, so I will; but the time isn't to-day. I've other things to do. "

"May I help you to plant the seedlings?"

"No indeed! They need very delicate handling, and I'm responsible toMiss Chadwick for them. Why don't you go and help Miss Carr?"

With a decidedly snubbed feeling Diana strolled away, not to help MissCarr, for it was recreation hour, and she felt at liberty to employ herleisure as she liked, but to find Wendy or some other congenial spirit. Wendy, Sadie, and Vi, however, had gone to the village with Miss Ormrod, and Tattie, Jess, Magsie, and Peggy occupied the tennis-court. Diana wasthe only one of the intermediates left out. She felt exceedinglyaggrieved. She stood for a while watching the set; but looking on attennis is never very amusing, so she wended her solitary way into thehouse to fetch a book. Down the corridor bustled Miss Hampson in ahurry. 

"Diana! I was just wanting somebody, and you'll do. Will you go and tellAdeline that Miss Todd wishes to speak to her as soon as she's finishedin the greenhouse?"

Miss Hampson, with her arms full of exercise books to correct, disappeared into the senior room, and Diana departed on her errand. Adeline was not in the greenhouse. She had not even begun to transplantthe seedlings, though the pots and the soil were ready. Diana waited afew minutes to see if she would come, then went in quest of her. Bobbingbriskly down the shrubbery path were two heads, a dark one with hair ina classic knot, and a fair one with a pig-tail. They could just bedistinguished above the line of the laurels. Diana put her hands to hermouth and called:

"Ad--el--ine!"

The heads turned for a moment to look, then scuttled on with the utmostrapidity. Diana, following, caught a glimpse of two figures whiskingpast the boat-house to the landing-place. She stopped dead. 

"So it's Hilary Adeline's taking with her. And they're going in theboat. Well, of all mean things this is the limit! Adeline hadn't time totake people on the lake, and wanted to plant seedlings. That's why shewas so anxious to send me off to help Miss Carr. If she won't listenwhen I call to her _I_'m not going to bother to give her Miss Hampson'smessage. I don't suppose Miss Todd wants her about anything important. I'm fed up!"

A very disconsolate and indignant Diana once more walked up the garden;the green-eyed monster was sitting on her back and digging in hisdisagreeable talons pretty deeply; he was anything but a brightcompanion. She wandered aimlessly round the orchard, and finally cameacross Miss Carr and Loveday carrying out food to the chickens. Theywere chatting as she met them, and the words drifted to her between theapple-trees. 

"So Mr. Appleton said it really wasn't safe at all, and Miss Todd hadbetter let nobody take her out till he could come up. He'd try to comethis evening, but he wasn't sure if he'd manage it because--why, Diana, what's the matter?"

"Is it the boat you're talking about?" demanded a breathless, excitedlittle figure. 

"Yes--but why? Diana! What is it? Di--an--a!"

Loveday spoke to the winds, for already her room-mate was half-way downthe orchard. Diana's feet were trying to keep pace with her whirlingbrain. The boat was unsafe! That, no doubt, was the message that MissTodd had intended for Adeline. If she had not already started it mightbe possible to stop her, or at any rate to call her back. She racedalong the shrubbery and down the bank to the landing-place. But Adelineand Hilary had wasted no time, and were already quite a considerableway out on the lake. Diana called and shouted to them. They turned theirheads to look, evidently laughed, and took no notice. It was plain thatthey thought Diana wished them to return and take her for a row, andthat they had no intention of any such philanthropic course of action. On the landing-place Diana raged. If the _Peveril_ were really unsafeevery stroke of the oar was taking Adeline and Hilary into greaterdanger. How could she possibly make them understand? The more shecalled, the more they would row away. 

Then a very desperate idea occurred to her, so desperate that only aharum-scarum like Diana would have thought of it. She would swim outtowards them, and when they saw her in the water they would probablyturn and come back. She pulled off her skirt and her shoes. Now Dianawas not a very expert swimmer; it was indeed two years since she had hadany practice, and that had been in the sea, which is easier than freshwater. She never thought of these particulars, however, but, putting herhands together, dived off the landing-place just as Loveday turned thecorner of the boat-house. It was very cold, indeed, in the water, farcolder than she had expected; it made her gasp for breath, and sent anumbness into her limbs. She struggled on, however, with brave strokes. 

"Di--ana!" screamed Loveday's agitated voice behind her. 

The girls in the boat were not even looking. How fearfully cold it was!It was difficult to hold up her head properly and see where she wasgoing. She had thought swimming was so easy. A few more strokes andsomething seemed to be twining round her. She had dashed into somewaterweeds, and their clammy stems clutched her like dead fingers. Shemade a desperate effort to free herself; down went her head, and nextmoment she was gulping, struggling, and shrieking for help. There was asplash behind from the landing-place as Loveday plunged to the rescue;the occupants of the boat also, at last looking and realizing theseriousness of the situation, began to row in her direction as fast asthey could pull. They were some distance off, however, and Loveday wonthe race. She caught Diana just as she was sinking, and held her upuntil the boat arrived. 

A very draggled, agitated pair of girls made their way up the shrubberywalk to the house, leaving a wet trail to mark their path. Adeline tiedup the _Peveril_ before she followed them. 

"I'm sure nobody can blame _us_, " she remarked to Hilary. 

Loveday and Diana, warmed, dried, and clad in fresh garments, scolded byMiss Todd, and cosseted by Miss Carr, the heroines of a real adventure, and for the moment the centre of interest in the school, discussed theevent in private. 

"I've explained, but Adeline doesn't see it, " said Diana. "She says theboat wasn't as bad as all that, and they were in no real danger, andthat I did a very silly, idiotic, foolhardy thing. She doesn'tunderstand I was trying to save her life. But I _was_!"

"I know, " nodded Loveday. "I don't think somehow, though, that Adeline'sthe kind of girl whom you could ever make understand. Why do you lavishall this love on her, Di? She's not worth it. "

Diana was plaiting her skirt into little gathers. She looked at herfingers and not at Loveday. 

"I _did_ like her so! But it's all ended now--drowned in the water, Ithink. She doesn't care twopence about me. Well! If _she_ doesn't, nomore do _I_! She may go to Hong-Kong as far as I'm concerned. "

Loveday glanced anxiously at her friend. There was a suspicious tremblein the usually cheerful voice. Were those drops shining on the longeyelashes?

"It takes a good deal of riddling before we sort out the wheat and thechaff in our friendships, " ventured Loveday. 

"_You're_ 'honest grain', at any rate!" said Diana, winking rapidly, asshe rose and ended the conversation. 

CHAPTER XVIII

Diana's Foundling

There was very little doubt in the minds of Miss Todd and of othermistresses at Pendlemere Abbey that Diana was a spoilt child. Herparents, far away in Paris, made up for their enforced absence bysending her a larger assortment of presents than usually falls to thelot of a schoolgirl. She had practically everything that she could want, and a great many things beside. There was one subject, however, uponwhich she had coaxed her father for a long time. In every letter she hadwritten lately she had assured him that life was not liveable in thesummer term without a pony. Diana had a passion for horses. She hadridden much in America, and her ideal of happiness was to be onponyback. She was occasionally allowed to mount Baron, but, as Miss Toddwould not permit her to take him into the lanes alone, she had toconfine her gallops to the paddock, which she considered very poorsport. She thought the matter over till she evolved an idea; then sheconfided it to Miss Carr. Miss Carr was also an enthusiast about horses, and was secretly longing to ride Baron. Diana's scheme was that sheshould ask her father to allow her to hire a pony for the rest of theterm, have it stabled at the farm near, and go with Miss Carr for rides. When she made up her mind to a thing she was apt to press the subjecthotly. A series of such very urgent letters went to Paris that Mr. Hewlitt yielded, and wrote to Miss Todd asking her to be so kind as toarrange the matter. Very fortunately for Diana the idea appealed to MissTodd; she wished to encourage riding amongst her girls, and was quitewilling to allow the experiment to be tried. She commissioned Mr. Greenhalgh, a neighbouring farmer, to procure a suitable mount for ayoung lady of fourteen, and to take charge of it in his stable. Dianahad to wait a week, in great impatience, while he made enquiries andinterviewed horse-dealers; then one red-letter afternoon she was takenby Miss Todd to the farm, and introduced to the prettiest possiblelittle white pony. "Lady" was getting on in years, but still had somespirit left in her, and she was accustomed to the saddle. Her owner, considering that she needed a rest, was glad to hire her out for suchlight work. Diana flung her arms round the pony's neck, and at oncebegan the process of making love to her, cementing the new friendshipwith several lumps of sugar which she had brought in her pocket. 

Then began a series of perfectly delightful rides. Miss Carr and Dianawould start out after tea, and explore all the bridle-roads in theneighbourhood. Sometimes they would go up on the moors, and enjoy acanter over the soft grass, or ride alongside the beautiful little lakesthat lay like gems among the hills. Diana did not much mind where theywent, so long as she could be upon Lady's back. Her new possessionnaturally aroused wild longing in the breasts of a considerable numberof her schoolfellows. If it had been possible Miss Todd would havearranged for a riding-master to bring horses to Pendlemere and givelessons to some of the girls, but matters had not yet adjustedthemselves sufficiently after the war for such an ambitious scheme asthat, so she did the next best thing, hired a second pony, and sentcertain girls, whose parents wished them to learn riding, out in relays. These elect few were regarded as favourites of fortune, but they wereobliged to take their luck in turns. They could only have one ride aweek each, and that was not nearly enough to content them. They wantedat least two. 

"If Miss Todd could hire another pony, " sighed Wendy, "that would meanwe each got in a second lesson a week. "

"Mr. Greenhalgh has tried, and says he can't hear of one anywhere, "lamented Tattie. "Horses are scarce since the war, and ponies seemparticularly wanted in the summer. It's very difficult to getriding-ponies. "

"Glad I secured Lady, " chuckled Diana. 

"I think it's very mean of you to keep Lady all to yourself, " retortedSadie, airing a grievance. "Why can't you let her be the second schoolpony, and take your turn with the rest of us? It would be far fairer. "

"Give up Lady? Well, I like that! Coolest idea I've ever heard! Why, Ithought of the whole thing, and wrote to Dad, and she was hiredspecially for me. _Your_ riding lessons were only a copy of my idea. Geta third pony if you can, but I guess I'm not going to give up Lady toanybody. Why should I? Dad said she was to be mine. "

"It's not sporty of you, though, " grumbled Sadie. "You know perfectlywell we _can't_ get a third pony, and everybody in the school is sayinghow hard it is for you to monopolize one entirely to yourself. There aresix other girls who'd be glad to learn riding if they could get amount. "

"Then let them write home to their fathers to send them ponies. "

"As if they could! But their fathers would let them take lessons ifthere were a school pony for them. I know that for a fact. "

"Well, they shan't have mine, at any rate, " rapped out Diana defiantly. "You just needn't think it, so there!"

One afternoon it was Wendy's turn for the school pony. She and Diana andMiss Carr rode away together down the road to Chapelrigg. It was agloriously fine day. Wild roses starred the hedgerows, and the beautifulblue speedwell bordered the lanes. Larks were singing, and, though thecuckoo had changed his tune, blackbirds still fluted in the coppices. 

They had come out on an errand--not a particularly romantic one, as ithappened, only to pay a bill for Miss Todd at a farm-house a few milesaway. If the errand was prosaic the farm and its surroundings lookedattractive; it stood on a hill with a beautiful group of birch-treesbehind it, and a small stream came rippling down at the bottom of thegarden. The path from the high road was blocked by a cart left standingwith a load of straw, so it would be impossible to ride the horses up tothe door. The three riders dismounted, and Miss Carr, tying Baron to thefence, said she would walk up the lane and pay the bill while the girlswaited for her in the road. Allowing Lady and Topsy to crop the grass inthe hedge bottom, Diana and Wendy sat on the bank lazily enjoyingthemselves. It was very pleasant that afternoon to be alive. In thatnorthern district although summer came late she made up for it by theextreme beauty with which she clothed the landscape; the view from thehill-side was like one of Turner's pictures. 

As the girls sat chatting, watching the ponies, and idly pluckingflowers, they heard footsteps coming along the road, and presently awoman carrying a baby appeared round the corner. She was young and darkand gipsy-looking, and wore large ear-rings and a red cottonhandkerchief knotted loosely round her brown throat. She stopped at thesight of Diana and Wendy and the ponies, and seemed to consider amoment. Then she walked boldly up to them, looked keenly in their faces, and evidently chose Diana. 

"Could you do me a kindness, miss?" she asked. "I've to go up to thefarm for a basket. I don't want to carry the baby with me; she's soheavy. If I leave her here on the grass would you keep an eye on hertill I come back? I shan't be gone five minutes. "

Now Diana was fond of babies, and the little dark-eyed specimen, wrappedup in the plaid shawl, was pretty and attractive and fairly clean. Foranswer she held out her arms, received baby, shawl, and feeding-bottleon to her knee, and constituted herself temporary nurse. 

"She'll be good till I come back, " said the woman, turning up the lanethat led to the farm. 

The small person with the brown eyes was probably accustomed to behanded about. She did not jib at strangers, as might have been expected, but accepted the situation quite amiably. She gurgled in response toDiana's advances, and allowed herself to be amused. Perhaps the vicinityof horses was familiar to her, and she felt at home. Diana, hugging heron her knee, freed her from the folds of the shawl and allowed her tokick happily. She was certainly a fascinating little mortal. 

In the course of about ten minutes Miss Carr, who had been having achat at the farm about gardening prospects, returned leisurely down thelane, and was electrified to find Diana sitting by the roadside nursinga baby. 

"I didn't see any gipsy woman come up to the farm, " she said, in answerto the girls' explanations. "You'd better go, Wendy, and see if you canfind her, and tell her to come at once and fetch her baby. "

So Wendy went up the lane to the farm, and asked at the front door andthe back door, and looked round the stack-yard and the buildings, butthere was never a trace of the gipsy girl. A little boy playing by thepond, however, declared that he had seen a woman crossing the field andclimbing over the fence on to the road. Wendy returned with this report. Miss Carr looked annoyed. 

"We must go along the road, then, and follow her. We can't wait heretill she chooses to come back. "

So Diana carried the baby, and Wendy led Lady and Topsy, and Miss Carr, with an anxious wrinkle between her eyebrows, followed with Baron in thedirection that the small boy had pointed out. They walked a mile, andenquired at cottages and from passers-by, and from men working in thefields, but nobody had seen the gipsy woman. Then they went back to thetrysting-place to see if she had returned, but she was not there. Theyasked again at the farm, and went back to the cottages, and Miss Carrbegged to leave the baby there, because its mother would be sure toenquire for it and find it. The occupants of the cottages, however, shook their heads, and were not at all prepared to accept theresponsibility. Neither were the people at the farm. They utterlyrefused to take it in. Then Diana realized that it is one thing to offerto nurse a baby, and quite another to get rid of it again. What werethey to do?

"We can't dump the poor mite down by the roadside and leave it, " saidMiss Carr distractedly. "Whatever _can_ have become of its mother?"

No answer was forthcoming to her question, and matters were urgent. Shedecided that the only thing to be done was to take the baby with them toPendlemere, leaving messages at the farm and the cottages for the motherto follow on and claim it. Naturally it made a great sensation in theschool when Diana arrived holding her foundling in her arms. Miss Carrexplained at full length to Miss Todd, who was utterly aghast, butconsented to take in the small stranger till it was claimed. MissChadwick, who had studied hygiene at the Agricultural College, and hadonce assisted at a crèche, constituted herself head nurse, mixed abottle, and left Miss Ormrod to feed the fowls while she sat in arocking-chair and soothed the foundling to sleep. 

"Surely the mother'll turn up before dark, " she said. 

But nobody turned up, and Miss Chadwick, who had had to guess at thebaby's age and requirements, and had mixed too strong a bottle, spent awakeful night patting her small guest on the back and endeavouring tostill her wails. Next morning Miss Todd reported the matter at thepolice station, enquiries were made, and it was ascertained that a girlanswering to the description given had been in the company of a band ofhawkers, but had disappeared and left no trace of her whereabouts. Thebaby was not hers, but belonged to a woman who had just been arrested ona serious charge and taken to Glenbury jail; the hawkers with whom shehad associated disclaimed all responsibility for the child. 

"The only thing to be done is to send it to the Union, " said the policesergeant. 

But by that time the school in general, and Diana in particular, hadfallen in love with the poor little baby. They raged at the idea ofsending it to the workhouse. They had borrowed clothes for it; and, nicely bathed and dressed and recovered from its fit of indigestion, itlooked a sweet thing, and was ready to make friends with anybody andeverybody. 

"Bless her, she _shan't_ go the workhouse!" declared Diana, kissing thesmall fist that clung round her finger. 

There was a wild idea among the girls that the foundling might be keptas a "school baby". 

"We're taught gardening, and poultry-keeping, and bee-keeping, " saidWendy quite seriously, "so why not the care of children? We could learnto bathe her, and mix her bottle, and do heaps of things for her. "

Miss Todd, however, thought otherwise. Theoretical hygiene of infantswas all very well as part of the curriculum, but the practical side ofit was disturbing to the school. Miss Chadwick had other duties besidesthat of nursing a baby. Rows of plants needed attention, and youngchickens claimed her care. 

"If the mother gets a heavy sentence, " said Miss Todd, "I think thechild would be received into a 'Home for Destitute Children'. In themeantime----"

"_Not_ the workhouse!" pleaded Diana. "Isn't there anybody in thevillage who'd take her in?"

"Mrs. Jones would have her, but she would charge twelve and sixpence aweek; nobody will take in a baby for less now. "

"What's that in dollars? About three, isn't it? Dad will fix that upeasily. I'll write to him to-night. It's as good as settled. "

"Diana, " said Miss Todd emphatically, "I shall _not_ allow you to writeto your father and ask him for anything more. If you care to give upyour pocket-money for the baby's sake that's another matter; but you'regetting into a bad habit of expecting your father to pay for every whimthat comes into your head. It's cheap charity to suggest somethingthat's to cost _you_ nothing. You want to have all the credit of thegenerosity at your father's expense. "

Diana flushed up to her hair, and down over her neck. 

"Do you think me a slacker?" she asked. 

"Yes; in this respect I certainly do. If you were prepared to denyyourself anything it would be different, but you're not. You like tocall the child _your_ foundling, but personally you've done nothing forher. It's Miss Chadwick who's had the wakeful nights. "

Diana did not urge in self-defence that she would willingly have takenthe baby to bed with her if she had been allowed; she knew it wasuseless to offer arguments or excuses. She was busy thinking. MissTodd's reproaches stung her like a whip. She would let the school seethat she was not the pampered, spoilt darling that they imagined. Onthat score she was determined. Sacrifices! She was quite prepared tomake sacrifices if they were necessary. Nobody should again have thechance of telling her that she did her generosity at other people'sexpense. An idea swept through her mind, and she set her teeth. 

"Does it cost more than twelve and six a week to keep Lady?" she asked. 

"Considerably more; though I don't suppose you've ever concernedyourself about the cost, " returned Miss Todd sarcastically. 

"Might I hand Lady over to the school for the rest of the term, then, and pay for the baby instead? I'd square it up with Father. He wouldn'tmind about the riding when I explained. "

Miss Todd looked Diana squarely in the face. Pupil and mistress met eachother's eyes. The Principal's voice softened when she spoke. 

"Yes; if you like to do this, Diana, I could arrange it. We want anotherschool pony. You could take your turn with Lady once a week, the same asthe other girls. By the end of the term we should know whether the'Home' would receive the baby. Meantime, Mrs. Jones would take good careof her. "

"Then I guess it's fixed, " said Diana rather hoarsely. 

CHAPTER XIX

Ambitions

The poor little foundling, pending her mother's trial at the Assizes, was boarded out in the village with Mrs. Jones, and Diana had permissionto see her twice a week. Miss Todd communicated with the "Home forDestitute Children", and received the reply that, should the mother beconvicted, as seemed only too probable, they would be ready to receivethe baby, and would apply to the judge for an order for entire charge, so that it should not be claimed and taken away to a possibly criminallife when the mother's term of penal servitude was over. 

For the present, therefore, there was nothing more to be done excepttake an interest in their protégée. Diana set to work to make her adress--a really heroic effort, for she hated sewing--and sat stitchingat it on those afternoons when the other girls were riding Lady. It wastypical of Diana that she would not discuss her arrangement about thepony with anybody, not even Wendy. 

"I've done it for reasons of my own, and that's enough!" she said rathercrossly. "You've no need to thank me--it wasn't particularly to please_you_! I suppose I can do as I like!"

"Of course you _can_, but you needn't flare up so!" retorted Sadie. "_Most_ people would _expect_ to be thanked. What a queer girl you are, Diana!"

At which remark Diana grunted and turned away. 

It is a funny thing that a burst of self-sacrifice often leaves us in abad temper. Diana was no model heroine, only a very ordinary and ratherspoilt girl. The reaction after giving up her pony had sent her spiritsdown to zero, and if all her doings are to be faithfully chronicled, itmust be confessed that for a day or two she did not display herself ather best. She was snappy even with Loveday, and matters came to an openquarrel with Hilary, who, as prefect, was inclined to be dictatorial. Awar of words followed; Hilary threatened to appeal to Miss Todd, andDiana, defeated but unrepentant, retired vowing vengeance. 

"I'll pay you out some day; see if I don't!" she declared hotly. 

"You're not worth noticing!" retorted Hilary, shrugging her shoulders. 

Diana retired to the ivy room, had a thoroughly good cry, and came downwith red eyes, but feeling better. She did not speak to Hilary again, however, for days. 

Meantime, examinations were drawing near. Although Miss Todd conductedher school on absolutely modern lines, she still clung to examinationsas being some test of a girl's attainments. The seniors in especial wereanxious to distinguish themselves. It was their last chance before theyleft, and all, with the exception of Stuart and Ida, who were to remainas gardening students, were leaving at the end of the term. The breakingup of her school-days meant an anxious time for Loveday. When they werealone in the ivy room she sometimes confided her troubles to Diana. 

"I don't know what I'm to do next. Uncle Fred has told me plainly thatthe little sum of money my father left has been nearly all spent on myeducation, and that he himself can't do anything for me. I'd like to goand take a proper training for something--kindergarten, or horticulture, or domestic economy. But how can I when there's nothing to do it on? Isuppose it'll end in my going out as a nursery governess. "

"Oh, Loveday!"

"Well, what else can I do? I daresay I'd love the children, and be quitehappy in a way, but the worst of it is, it's such a blind alley, andleads to nothing. It's all very well to be a nursery governess whenyou're eighteen, but I'd like to be something better at thirty-six. Ifyou want to get anything decent in the way of a post you have to train. "

Diana, to whom all these ideas were fresh and bewildering, was trying toadjust her brains to the new problems. She wrenched her mind from thenear present, and took a mental review of Loveday's far future. 

"But aren't you going to get married?" was the result of hercogitations. 

Loveday, busy plying her hair-brush, shook her long flaxen manedolefully. 

"I don't say I wouldn't _like_ to. But I don't think it's at all likely. I'm not an attractive kind of girl; I know that well enough. I'm so shy. I never know what to say to people when they begin to talk to me. Theymust think me a silly goose. You should see my cousin Dorothy; she'salways the very life and soul of a party. If I were like _that_ now! Idon't suppose anybody'll ever trouble to look at me twice. I'm sureAuntie thinks so. No; I expect I've just got to make up my mind to be anursery governess for the rest of my days. "

Diana, still in a state of mental bewilderment, looked at pretty Lovedaysitting on the bed brushing out her silky fair hair, and her memoryswitched itself back suddenly to the last evening of their motor trip. She had been sitting in the lounge of the hotel, and through the opendoor could see Giles standing in the hall. Loveday had come runningdownstairs. Diana would never forget the look that for an instantflashed across Giles's face. It contained something that she had not yetaltogether grasped or realized. 

"I wouldn't make up my mind too soon if I were you, " she said slowly. "You might change it some day. "

Whatever the future might hold in store, the present was the mostimmediate concern. Loveday wished to take back a good report to heruncle and aunt, and studied hard so as to obtain a fair place in theexamination lists. She had just a faint hope that if they thought sheshowed any intellectual promise they might consider it worth while tohave her trained. They had never made much of her attainments, but ifshe could come out third or fourth in the school she felt they would bepleased. It would be impossible to overstep Geraldine or Hilary, but herwork was tolerably on a level with Ida's and Stuart's, and certainlyabove Nesta's. 

It was just at this crisis that Miss Todd offered a prize for the bestessay on "The Reconstruction of England after the Great War, and itsSpecial Application to Women's Labour and Social Problems". 

It was rather an ambitious topic for girls to tackle, but the seniorsattacked it with the crude courage of seventeen. It is often easier atthat age to state our opinions than later, when our minds wobble withfirst-hand experience of the world. At any rate, it gives a force andstyle to an essay to be absolutely sure that what you write in it is thefinal thing to be said on the subject. The girls scribbled away, tore upmany sheets, showed bits to admiring friends, and felt themselvesbudding authoresses. Public opinion, surging round the school, hadalready fixed the laurel wreath on the head of Hilary. Hilary exhibiteddecided literary ability; she had quite a clever knack of writing, andhad composed several short stories. When she read these aloud--inbed--her thrilled listeners decided that they were worthy of appearingin print. 

"Why don't you send them to a magazine?" urged Peggy, who slept inDormitory 4. 

"Perhaps I may some day--but please don't tell anybody a word about it, "said Hilary, putting the cherished stories away again inside herdispatch-case. 

In the ivy room Loveday also wrote and burnt, and wrote and tore up, andwrote again. Composition was her strong point, and though she knew shecould never rival Hilary in mathematics or languages, she might possiblymatch her in the matter of an essay. In imagination Loveday took homethe prize and showed it to her uncle and aunt, who were so overcome withamazement that they at once decided to send her to college on thestrength of it. 

On Wednesday afternoon the school had planned a mountain walk; but theweather, with its usual northern perversity, turned on the water-tap, and sent down deluges of rain. July can be quite as wet as February, andthrough the steaming window-panes the disappointed girls watched littlerivers racing down the walks, and black clouds driving over the fells. The pent-up energy that wanted to spend itself in walking must find someother vent. The seniors, with one accord, retired to their form-room tocopy out their essays. Miss Chadwick charitably conducted the juniors, clad in mackintoshes and goloshes down to the stable, and let them climbthe ladder on to the hay in the loft, where she sat and told themstories. She did not invite the intermediates, so they were left totheir own devices. 

Diana, suffering from a cold, annoyed with the weather, and cross thatshe was not allowed to go out into the rain, raged up and down the room, and finally, for lack of any other form of physical exercise, organizeda jumping competition. 

The girls scrambled over the desks and took leaps on to the floor. Theysquealed as they did so, and every now and then broke into hallos orbursts of song. It was certainly not a quiet occupation. In the midst ofthe riot the door opened, and Hilary, in a towering temper, made herappearance. 

"I never heard such a disgraceful noise in my life!" she stormed. "Itsounds like a menagerie or an infants' tea-party. Great girls of yourage to be jumping about like babies. You ought to be ashamed ofyourselves! Here are we all trying to copy our essays; and how d'youthink we're going to write with that racket going on over our heads? Ifyou don't stop I shall fetch Miss Todd. She'll hear it for herself verysoon, if you don't take care, and then there'll be squalls. She'sworking in her study. "

There was truth in Hilary's remarks. Though they would not acknowledgethere was anything derogatory to the dignity of intermediates inindulging in the pastime of jumping, they knew full well that should thenoise penetrate to the precincts of the study Miss Todd would issueforth like a dragon. But Diana was cross, and not disposed to takereproof lightly. She pulled one of her most impossible faces, andstormed back at Hilary. 

"You seniors want to have the school all to yourselves! It's a holidayafternoon; and why shouldn't we do as we like? We've just as good aright to amuse ourselves in our own way as you have. I don't see why youshould tyrannize over us. You're always interfering! What business is itof yours what we do?"

"Very much my business, Diana Hewlitt, considering I'm prefect, " saidHilary grimly. "If I've any more cheek from you you'll march down andreport yourself in the study. This noise must stop. I give you warningthat if it begins again I shall go straight to Miss Todd. "

"You'll be a sneak then, " retorted Diana. "I've a great many scores tosettle with _you_, Hilary. You'll have a very unpleasant surprise beforelong, so look out!"

Hilary did not deign to answer, but stalked away in majestic silence, leaving gloom behind her. The girls knew perfectly well that even for aholiday afternoon they had exceeded the noise limit. Visions of asurprise visit from Miss Todd kept them silent. Tattie brought out hersewing, and Peggy her painting. Sadie went down to the library for abook. Wendy and Jess began a game of halma. Even Diana, after staringdisconsolately out of the window, settled to read _Ivanhoe_. Downstairsthe seniors, in peace and quiet, finished copying out their essays. 

"They look so neat now they're done, " rejoiced Geraldine. "Shall youkeep your old copy?"

"What's the use?" said Hilary. "Mine's all alterations and corrections. I shall just tear it up. "

"Well, so shall I. "

Most of the others followed suit, and made a bonfire in the empty gratewith the originals of their essays. The fair copies they placed insidetheir desks. Hilary put hers away with the short stories she hadwritten, and, happening to be in a rather communicative mood, sheconfided the secret of these literary efforts to Stuart. Stuart was muchimpressed. 

"Why don't you try to publish them?" she asked. 

"Well, I would if I could, " admitted Hilary. 

"I saw a little bit in the end of the _Blue Magazine_ saying that theeditor would be glad to consider contributions. "

"Oh, did you? Where is it?"

"I'll find it for you. "

Stuart hunted up the magazine, found the paragraph in question, andtendered good advice. 

"I'd certainly send them if I were you. Why shouldn't you try as well asanybody else? They might be accepted. Just think of having a story in amagazine! I'd die of swelled head if it were mine. "

"I suppose there's no harm in trying, " fluttered Hilary. "It would be ajoke to see one's own story in print. "

"Send some of them off to-day. "

"Shall I?"

"Why not?"

"I don't know which to choose. "

"Oh, any of them!"

Thus urged, Hilary drew three of her manuscripts at a venture, put theminside a long envelope, wrote a short note offering them to the editor, enclosed it, fastened, addressed, and stamped her letter, and placed itin the post-box in the hall. 

"What fun if you have some luck!" said Stuart. 

"I drew a tiny little swastika inside the envelope, and I made threecrosses over it with my right forefinger, " confessed Hilary, "but Idon't suppose it's any use; they'll probably come packing back. "

"Well, if they do you must send them to some other magazine, " saidStuart hopefully. 

Diana felt a little cheered up after reading three chapters of_Ivanhoe_, but she was still angry with Hilary. She felt that she wouldlike to play a trick upon her. It would really serve her right for beingso generally disagreeable. There was no need at all for prefects to takeadvantage of their office and ride roughshod over the intermediates. Howcould she possibly pay her out and settle the score between them? Shepondered for a while, then had a sudden brain-wave and chuckled. First, she ascertained that the senior room was empty, then she paid asurreptitious visit to the pantry and purloined a pepper-pot. Hidingthis for safety in her pocket she went back to the senior room, openedHilary's desk, and put a plentiful sprinkling of pepper inside. 

"It'll make Hilary just sneeze her head off to-morrow!" triumphed Diana. "She'll think she's got a touch of 'flu', and she'll be in _such_ ascare! I'd give worlds to see the fun. Only, of course, I daren't showmyself, or she'll find out. No, that would never do. "

Putting the pepper-pot back in her pocket, she was in the act of leavingthe room, when in the dusk she collided with Geraldine. The astonishmentwas mutual. 

"What are you doing here, Diana?" asked the head prefect sharply. 

"Oh, nothing in particular. I was just taking a roam round the school, that's all. "

"You've no business to roam into the senior room. Keep to your ownquarters. We can't have juniors coming in here!"

"I'm not a junior!"

"Well, intermediates are quite as bad, if not worse!"

Diana beat a retreat, for the supper-bell was ringing. She marched intothe dining-room with a defiant twinkle in her eyes, and meeting Wendy, could not refrain from whispering:

"Done 'em brown for once! Hilary'll get the surprise of her lifeto-morrow. "

"Sh! Sh!" warned Wendy too late. 

Geraldine, who was exactly behind, and who had evidently overheard, glared at the couple, but forbore to speak. Indeed there was not timefor her to do so, for the girls were taking their seats, and Miss Toddwas waiting to say grace. It is undignified for a head prefect to taketoo much notice of the chance remarks of intermediates, so Geraldine letthe matter pass, and, whatever her private thoughts might be, did notrevive the subject after supper. 

CHAPTER XX

A Tangled Plot

Loveday and Diana went to bed that evening just as usual. They performedtheir customary hair-brush drill, twisted Diana's light-brown locks incurl-rags, and plaited Loveday's flaxen mane in two long braids, foldedtheir clothes neatly, read their Bible portions, said their prayers, andblew out the candle. Then they lay chatting quietly till Miss Beverleycame on her nightly round of dormitory inspection. 

"Only a few weeks more and we shall be saying good-bye to the ivy room, "said Loveday. "I shall be back in Liverpool; and where will you be, Diana?"

"Crossing the Atlantic, I hope. Dad's had our names down for passagesfor ever so long, and they told him our turn might come early in August. We're crazy to get home again. "

"I don't wonder! But _how_ I'll miss you! I shall want heaps ofletters. "

"Rather! And so shall I. I'll want to know what you're doing. "

"Answering advertisements about posts as nursery governess, " saidLoveday bitterly. "No luck ever comes to me. I had a sort of wild ideathat if I won the prize for that essay Uncle Fred might think it worthwhile sending me somewhere to train; but I _know_ I shan't get it now. Hilary read us bits out of hers, and it's just splendid--far better thanmine. I'm not in the innings. "

"Oh, Loveday, what a shame! The prize means so much more to you than toHilary. "

"I know it does. She'll win the maths prize too, and the Latin one. "

"It doesn't seem fair she should get everything. I wonder if she'd holdback her essay so as to give you a chance?"

"Not she!"

"But if----"

At that identical moment Miss Beverley opened the door, and, candle inhand, looked round the room to see that all was left tidy. Herinspection was swift; she said "Good night, girls!" shut the door, andwent downstairs to drink cocoa in Miss Todd's study. After her eveninground the silence rule was a point of honour in the dormitories. Lovedayand Diana turned over and went to sleep. 

Some time in the middle of the night Diana woke with a start, just intime to see Loveday in a blue dressing-gown, with their bedroom candlein her hand, disappearing through the door. Where could Loveday begoing? Had she heard burglars? Was she ill? Why had she not roused herroom-mate? Could she by any chance be walking in her sleep?

All these questions raced through Diana's brain, and, as the quickestway to solve them, she jumped up, fumbled in the dark for her bedroomslippers and dressing-gown, and hurried after Loveday. She could see bythe glimmer of light that the candle was going downstairs. She followed, flopping along in her woollen slippers, for she had not had time to drawthem on properly. She nearly lost one on the landing, and had to stop. When she reached the hall the light had gone into the seniors' room. Diana walked softly, and peeped cautiously in. She had rather an idea ofsaying "Boo!" suddenly, and giving Loveday a scare, but she wanted toreconnoitre first. Her friend's back was turned towards her; she wasbending over a desk, not her own desk, but Hilary's. She quickly drewout a roll of manuscript, tore it across and across, carried it to thefire-place, put it inside the grate, and applied the candle. Diana, standing in the dark outside the doorway, watched her in utteramazement. So many questions began to rush into her mind that the halldid not seem the best place to answer them. She fled upstairs again, jumped into bed, and lay thinking. In a minute or two Loveday camequietly back, blew out the candle at the door, and, treading softly, also went to bed. Diana did not speak, or betray by any movement thatshe was awake. It was an hour, however, before sleep came to her. Shewas on the early practising list, so she went downstairs next morningbefore her room-mate was stirring. 

Breakfast passed over as usual; the post-bag came in; Miss Todd sortedand distributed the contents, and the girls retired to read theirletters. At ten minutes to nine something happened. Hilary, with wideopen eyes and flushed cheeks, came running along the hall. 

"Somebody's gone and taken my essay out of my desk!" she declaredexcitedly. 

Her fellow-seniors wrenched their thoughts from home news. 

"Impossible!" said Geraldine. 

"You've misplaced it!" said Stuart. 

"No, I haven't! I know just where I put it yesterday. "

"Go and look again!"

"I've turned the whole desk out, I tell you, and it simply isn't there!"

"Where is it, then?"

"That's what I want to know!"

"Has anyone taken it for a joke?"

"I expect so, but I'll reckon with whoever has!"

"It's probably one of those intermediates, " suggested Stuart. 

"Anybody who's got it must just turn it up at once!" said Geraldinegrimly. "We can't allow this sort of thing to happen. I'll ask who'staken it. "

The head prefect made an instant tour of the school, proclaiming theloss, and demanding instant restoration. The school, as one girl, utterly denied the accusation. 

"But look here!" persisted Geraldine. "_Some__body_ must have taken it. It couldn't walk out of Hilary's desk by itself! She _knows_ she left itthere yesterday. If anybody's hiding it for a joke, please give it backat once. If it's not brought back by nine o'clock I shall tell MissTodd. Yes, I'm in earnest! Dead earnest!"

Seniors, intermediates, and juniors, very much astonished, retired totheir form rooms and talked the matter over; but nobody produced themissing manuscript. During the course of the morning Miss Todd enteredthe intermediate room. 

"A disagreeable thing has happened, girls, " she said. "Somebody hastaken Hilary's essay from her desk. If it was done as a joke, I considerit a very sorry joke! Does anyone in this room know anything about thematter? If so, she must speak out at once and tell me. "

Miss Todd looked searchingly at the faces before her, and waited for ananswer; but nobody spoke. There was a flush of annoyance on her cheeks, and that firm set about the mouth which generally indicated a dangersignal. 

"I intend to get to the bottom of it. It can't possibly be overlooked, "she remarked, as she left the room to go and catechize the juniors. 

For the rest of the morning lessons went on as usual. Immediately afterdinner, however, Diana received a message to report herself in thestudy. She went slowly. She was still thinking; she had been doingnothing else but think since that midnight excursion down the stairs. Itwas rather a white-faced, anxious-eyed little Diana who entered thestudy. Miss Todd was sitting at her desk, and Hilary and Geraldine stoodnear her. They looked half resentful and half nervous. 

"Diana, " began Miss Todd, "I've sent for you because I believe you'rethe only girl who can throw any light on this most distressing business. I'm going to ask you a straight question. Have you taken Hilary'smanuscript? I expect a straight answer. "

"No, " breathed Diana, looking down on the floor. 

"Look me in the face, Diana. Do you know where it is? Or anything at allabout it?"

Diana's eyes raised themselves to the level of the Principal's knee, andthen fell to the floor. She did not answer. 

"Geraldine tells me that she saw you at Hilary's desk yesterdayevening. "

No answer. 

"You are known to have threatened to play a trick on Hilary!"

Still no answer. 

"Very well, Diana. Until you condescend to explain, I can't allow you tomix with the rest of the school. We have rules here, and I intend theyshall be obeyed. I make no exception for any pupil. You're inclined tothink you have licence to do as you like, and play any pranks you choosehere. I'm going to teach you a lesson for once. You'll stay in the atticuntil you choose to answer my question. I've dealt with obstinate girlsbefore. Come along with me!"

Miss Todd rose, and, taking a key from her desk, led the way to theattic at the top of the little narrow staircase. The room was verysimply furnished, and was always kept in readiness as a hospital in caseany girl should be suddenly taken ill. It was not a particularlycheerful apartment; it had a skylight window, there were no pictures onthe walls, and the floor was of scrubbed boards. It looked, as it wasintended to be, arranged with the main object of being easilydisinfected if necessary. Miss Todd ushered in Diana, and pointed to achair. 

"You may sit there and think it over, " she remarked. Then she shut thedoor, and locked it on the outside. 

Left alone, Diana took a seat on one of the small iron bedsteads. Herface was a mixture of bewilderment and consternation. 

"Diana Hewlitt, it seems to me you've got yourself into _some_ fix, " shesaid to herself. "What's puzzling me is that I can't believe theevidence of my own eyes. Did I _dream_ I saw Loveday go downstairs andtake a roll of papers out of Hilary's desk? Goodness, I was only toohorribly awake! The queerness of the thing bothers me. It doesn't fitin, somehow. Loveday! Loveday's the last person in the world, as Ishould have thought, to do a trick like that. I can't understand it. It's the sort of stupid thing that girls do in books. I never believedthey did it in real life. Well, one thing's certain. I'm not going totell about her--not if Miss Todd keeps me shut up here till I'm ahundred. Loveday shielded me when I ran away to say good-bye to Lenox, and I vowed I'd do the same for her if ever I got the chance. Well, I'vegot it now, and no mistake. Only--Loveday! Loveday! I don't understand!You've toppled down somehow off a pedestal. I feel as if something Iliked had got broken. "

It was anything but a cheerful afternoon for Diana. The only literaturein the room was a catalogue of the Stores and some reports of charitableinstitutions. She read the cost of tins of sardines, pots of jam, tablelinen, household china and hardware, and tried to take some faintinterest in the annual statements of the "District Nursing Association"and "The Society for Providing Surgical Appliances for the Sick Poor". To amuse herself she was reduced to choosing a word at random and seeinghow many other words she could make out of it, but as she had no pencilin her pocket to write them down, it was rather difficult to keep count, and the occupation soon palled. Shortly after four o'clock she heard ascrimmage on the little landing outside the door. A deep-toned voice, that sounded like Miss Beverley's, said, "Come away this minute!" and ahigh-pitched, excited voice--undoubtedly Loveday's--protested, "If you'd_only_ let me speak to her, I'm certain----"

Then a sound followed like somebody sliding down three steps at once, and Loveday's voice, with words indistinguishable, but tone still highlyindignant, grew fainter and farther away till it ceased altogether. Diana smiled rather bitterly. 

"It's not much use her coming and talking to me, " she thought. "If shewants to tell anybody, she can tell Miss Todd. She needn't think I'llgive her away. Don't suppose she knows, though, what I saw last night. It's a queer world! I'll be glad when I'm back in America. If Dad getsthose passages he'll come and cart me off, Miss Todd or no Miss Todd. I'd like to see his face if he found me locked up in an attic. "

Diana's tea was brought to her at five o'clock, and an hour later shewas visited by the Principal, who again urged confession. 

"What's the use of keeping this up?" asked the mistress impatiently. "You'll have to make a clean breast of it some time, so you may just aswell do it at once. It's perfectly evident that you know where the essayis. You don't even deny that. What have you done with it?"

And again Diana stood with the same unyielding look on her face, andstared at the floor, and did not answer a word. 

There is nothing so irritating as a person who utterly refuses to speak. Miss Todd glared at her, then turned towards the door. 

"Very well; you may spend the night here. I'm not going to waste anymore time on you now. Perhaps by to-morrow morning you'll be in adifferent frame of mind. I intend to know the truth of this; so it'smerely a matter of waiting. You can leave here the moment you decide toconfess; so you're punishing yourself by staying. "

Once more the key turned in the lock, and Diana was a prisoner. At eighto'clock Miss Beverley, in strict silence, brought in a tray with supper, placed it on the table, departed, and secured the defences. After thatnobody else even came up the stairs. 

"They might some of them have managed to push a note under the door, "sighed Diana. "I guess I'd have got a message in somehow if it had beenWendy shut up here. What a set of thick-heads they are! There isn't oneof them ever has a decent brain-wave. Wonder how long I'll have to stickin this attic? I've not lost my bounce yet. But I guess, all the same, I'll go to bed now. "

Miss Beverley, with the supper tray, had also brought Diana's night-gearin a small bundle. As there was no candle in the attic, it seemed wiseto disrobe while there was still light enough to see by. The little bedwas rather hard, the pillow was a lumpy one, and the spring mattresssqueaked when she moved. Diana watched the room grow gradually darkerand darker till stars appeared through the skylight. It was a very longtime before she slept. The early sunshine, however, woke her in thesmall hours of the morning. There was no blind to the window, and theroom faced east. Diana sat up in bed. Her eyes fell on the picturelesswalls. Perhaps the very fact of their bareness made her look at themmore particularly. She did not admire the pattern of the paper. Inplaces it had been badly fitted together, especially in that corner. Why, the magenta roses actually overlapped! They did it in a sort ofcurve, almost as if they were outlining the top of a door. _Was_ it byany chance a door?

At this stage of her inspection she sprang out of bed, went over to thecorner, and ran her hand along the portion in question. It certainlyfelt as if the edge of a door were beneath. She rapped, and there was ahollow sound, very different from that given forth from the wall whenshe tried it a few yards farther on. 

"I'm going to solve the problem for myself, " she decided. 

There was a knife left on the supper-tray. She thrust it through thepaper, and began to cut round the seeming door. And most undoubtedly itwas a door, though only a small one, with a curved top that came to theheight of her shoulder. 

"It must lead somewhere!" she thought excitedly. "Suppose I could getout on to the leads, climb down the ivy, and go off to Petteridge. Cousin Coralie wouldn't let me be brought back here to be shut up in anattic, I know!"

She worked away laboriously, tearing at the paper to free the door. Itflashed across her mind that Miss Todd might have something to sayabout the disfigurement of the wall, but as she had gone so far, thatdid not deter her. 

"Might as well finish it now, " she smiled. 

More hacking and tearing, then a gigantic shove, and the door suddenlyopened inwards. She was looking into another attic, a larger and muchdarker room, lighted only by a tiny little skylight in the corner. Itseemed full of furniture--chairs and tables piled together, andsomething that looked like a small grand piano. They were so thicklycoated with dust that it was difficult in the dim light to distinguishmore than upturned legs and general outlines. There did not appear to bethe least possibility of escape in this direction. The skylight was moreinaccessible than the one in her own attic. She sighed, went back, washed her dusty hands, and got into bed again. 

"I guess there'll be a fine old shindy when Miss Todd sees what I'vedone, " she soliloquized. 

Miss Todd, who was thoroughly out of patience with Diana, did not hurryto send her breakfast up early that morning. She decided that theprisoner might very well wait until the school had finished its meal. She even distributed the post first, and began to read her own letters. She intended to carry the tray upstairs herself, and have another talkwith Diana. It was an unpleasant duty, and could be deferred for a fewminutes. Meantime the school also read its letters. There were two forHilary. One in the well-known home writing, and the other a longenvelope addressed in a strange hand. She opened this first. Itcontained three manuscripts, and a printed notice to the effect that theeditor of the _Blue Magazine_ much regretted his inability, owing tolack of space, to make use of the enclosed, for the kind offer of whichhe was much obliged. 

"My stories packed back by return of post. How disgusting!" grousedHilary. "He might have taken one of them. Are they all here, by the by?Yes; 'The Flower of the Forest', 'The Airman's Vengeance', and--GoodHeavens! What's this? Why--why, it's actually my essay on'Reconstruction'!"

Hilary was so utterly dismayed that at first she could only stare aghastat her recovered manuscript; then she tore straight off to Miss Todd. 

"I must have put it in in mistake for my other story, " she explained. "Ican't imagine how I could; but evidently I _did_! I'm too sorry forwords. _Poor_ Diana!"

Everybody said "Poor Diana!" when the news--as news will--spread likewildfire over the school. Miss Todd ordered some fresh tea to be made, and an egg boiled for the breakfast-tray. She was a just woman, andready to make damages good. She even asked Miss Hampson to get out thelast jar of blackberry jelly; there was still one left in thestore-room. Diana, in the attic, having dressed hours ago, sat hungrilyby the table, listening for footsteps, and wondering if starvation wereto be part of her punishment. She glanced guiltily at the tornwall-paper as the key turned in the lock. Miss Todd, however, was sofull of the good news that she hardly looked at the attic wall. 

"Why did you say, Diana, that you knew something about the essay?" sheasked. 

"I never said anything at all, " replied Diana, which, of course, wasliterally true. 

It was nice to eat a dainty breakfast at leisure and not hurry down tolessons. She felt herself the heroine of the school that morning as shestrolled into the French class just when the disagreeable grammar partof the lesson was over. Later on in the day there were confidences inthe ivy room. 

"I knew you hadn't done it, darling!" declared Loveday. "It wasn't likeyou one little bit. I had a regular squabble with Miss Beverley. I triedto come and talk to you through the door, and she came and dragged meaway. Why didn't you tell Miss Todd you'd never even seen the wretchedessay?"

"Sissie, " whispered Diana, "will _you_ tell _me_ what you were doing atHilary's desk in the middle of the night?"

"Why--why, surely you never thought----"

"Yes, I did; and that's why I held my tongue, " said Diana, burying herhot face on Loveday's shoulder. "Forgive me, please, for having thoughtit. "

"It never struck me that anybody should think that, " said Loveday, stillamazed at the idea. "And how did you know about it? Did you follow me?Well, I'll tell you what I was doing. We seniors have a secret--not avery desperate one; it's only a little literary society. We make upstories for it, and fasten them together into a sort of magazine. Geraldine is president, and Hilary is the secretary. It was the nightfor giving in the stories, and I put mine with the others insideHilary's desk. Geraldine and I haven't been quite hitting it lately; soI'd made a girl in my story exactly like her, only nastier, and writtena lot of very sarcastic things. I thought they were awfully clever. Thenwhen I got into bed I was sorry. It seemed a mean sort of thing to do. Imade up my mind I'd go down first thing in the morning and tear up thestory. But I'm such a sleepy-head in the mornings, and you know howearly Geraldine generally gets up. I was afraid she'd come down first, and probably rummage the stories out of Hilary's desk and read mine. Themore I thought about it the more ashamed I was of what I'd written. Icouldn't go to sleep. I felt I shouldn't be easy till it was burnt; soat last I got up, and lighted the candle, and went downstairs and didthe deed. That's how you saw me at Hilary's desk. By the by, Geraldinesaid she caught _you_ there before supper. What were _you_ doing?"

"Putting pepper among her books to pay her out and make her sneeze, "confessed Diana. 

"Why, she did say her desk smelled somehow of pepper!" exclaimedLoveday. "We were all so excited, though, about the essay being missingthat we didn't take much notice of it. The whole affair's been a sort of'Comedy of Errors'. "

One substantial result remained from Diana's confinement to the attic, and that was the discovery of the door into the room beyond. Miss Toddexplored, and carried some of the dusty chairs out into the light ofday. She was enough of a connoisseur to see at a glance that they wereChippendale, and extremely valuable. She had the rest of the furnituremoved out and cleaned, then sent for a dealer in antiques to ask hisopinion about it. He said it made his mouth water. 

"A set of ten Chippendale singles with two armchairs will fetch almostanything you like nowadays, " he added. 

"The question is, to whom do they legally belong?" said Miss Todd. "I'monly the tenant here. I must tell my landlord. "

The owner of the Abbey, who had bought the property many years beforefrom Mr. Seton, was a man with a fine sense of honour. Though, legally, the furniture in the forgotten attic might have been transferred to himwith the house, he did not consider himself morally entitled to it. 

"It certainly belongs to the heirs-at-law of the late Mr. Seton, " hedeclared. 

There was only one heir, or rather heiress-at-law, and that was Loveday. It was decided, therefore, to sell the furniture for her benefit. Thecollection included objects of great rarity, among them a genuinespinet and a beautifully inlaid bureau. At the present boom for antiquesthey would realize a very substantial sum, quite a windfall, indeed, forLoveday. 

"Will it be enough to send me to a horticultural college?" she askedMiss Todd. 

"Ample, my dear. It ought to bring you sufficient for a thoroughly goodtraining in any career you want to take up. "

This was news indeed--so splendid that it seemed almost too good to betrue. Hilary's essay, which, as everybody expected, easily won theprize, had indirectly made Loveday's fortune after all. 

"I bless the day when I was a prisoner in the attic, " rejoiced Diana. "If I hadn't knocked that door in, the furniture might still have beenlying there in the dust. "

"I wonder if _this_ was the discovery that gentleman wanted to tellFather about, " surmised Loveday. 

Surprise came on surprise, for the very morning after this happysolution of Loveday's future, Diana received a telegram from Paris. Mr. Hewlitt had succeeded in getting three passages (thrown up at the lastby a family who were taken ill with "flu" and unable to travel); he andMrs. Hewlitt were crossing the channel post-haste, and Diana must startfrom school and meet them in Liverpool. Loveday helped her to pack herboxes. It was an excited, fluttered, tearful little Diana who clung toher at the last. 

"Sissie! I can't say 'Good-bye!' It's not 'good-bye' to _you_--only 'aurevoir'. "

"We'll meet again some day, darling!"

"We'll just jolly well have to, or I'll know the reason why! If youdon't come out to see us in America I shall come over here and fetchyou. Write very often, and let me know how the baby goes on, and if ithas been taken into the Home. I haven't quite finished its frock. Willyou do it? Oh, thanks! I'm leaving the Abbey in as big a hurry as I camehere. Dad always uses his 'lightning methods'. But I shan't forget anyof you, ever--not you, Wendy, or Jess, or Vi. Write to me, won't you? Asfor you, Loveday mine, I haven't words left. Let me give you one moregood hug! Yes, Miss Todd, I'm really coming. No, I don't want to miss mytrain. Good-bye, everybody and everything! Good-bye! Good-bye!"