"You mascot! But you"re missing the match yourself!"
"I don"t care twopence. I"m not keen on hockey like you are. Give me a pen, I tell you!"
"But how are we to manage?" objected Marjorie. "If we do alternate pages we shan"t each know where to begin, and we can"t leave s.p.a.ces, or the Acid Drop would twig."
"Marjorie Anderson, I always thought you"d more brains than I have, but you"re not clever to-day! You must write small, so as to get each line of print exactly into a line of exercise paper. There are twenty blue lines on each sheet--very well then, you copy the first twenty of old Bacon, and I"ll copy the second twenty, and there we are, alternate pages, as neat as you please!"
"Dona, you"ve a touch of genius about you!" purred Marjorie.
The plan answered admirably. By writing small, it was quite possible to bring each line of print into correspondence with the ma.n.u.script. There were a hundred and twenty lines altogether in the essay, which worked out at six pages of exercise paper. Each counted out her own portion, then scribbled away as fast as was consistent with keeping the size of her caligraphy within due bounds. Thirty-five minutes" hard work brought them to the last word. Marjorie breathed a sigh of rapture, fastened the pages together with a clip, and took them downstairs to Miss Norton"s study.
"You"re an absolute trump, old girl!" she said to Dona.
The latter, meantime, had run downstairs and removed the ladder back to where she had found it, so that no trace of her little adventure should be left behind. The two girls hurried off to the playing-field, but took care not to approach together, in case of awakening suspicions.
Everybody"s attention was so concentrated on the match that Marjorie slipped into a crowd of Intermediates unnoticed by mistresses. She was in time for part of the game, and keenly enjoyed watching a brilliant run by Daisy Edwards, and a terrific tussle on the back line resulting in a splendid shot by Hilda Alworthy. When the whistle blew for time the score stood six goals to three, Brackenfield leading, and Marjorie joined with enthusiasm in the cheers. She loitered a little in the field, and came back among the last. Miss Norton, who was standing in the hall, looked at her keenly as she entered St. Elgiva"s, but the teacher had just found the essay "Of Empire" laid on her desk, and, turning it over, had marked it correct. If she had any suspicions she did not voice them, but allowed the matter to pa.s.s.
CHAPTER VII
Dormitory No. 9
After the sad fiasco recorded in the last chapter, Marjorie"s interest in autographs languished. She took up photography instead, and bartered a quite nice little collection of foreign stamps with one of the Seniors in exchange for a second-hand Kodak. Of course, it was much too late in the year for snapshots, but she managed to get a few time exposures on bright days, and enjoyed herself afterwards in the developing-room. She wanted to make a series of views of the school and send them to her father and to her brothers, for she knew how much they appreciated such things at the front. In his last letter to her, Daddy had said: "I am glad you and Dona are happy at Brackenfield, and wish I could picture you there. I expect it is something like a boys" school. Tell me about your doings. I love to have your letters, even though I may not have time to answer them."
Daddy"s letters were generally of the round-robin description, and were handed on from one member to another of the family, but this had been specially written to Marjorie and addressed to Brackenfield, so it was a great treasure. She determined to do her best to satisfy the demands for photos.
"You darling!" she said, kissing his portrait. "I think you"re a thousand times nicer-looking than any of the other girls" fathers! I do wonder when you"ll get leave and come home. If it"s not in the holidays I declare I"ll run away and see you!"
In her form Marjorie was making fair progress. She liked Miss Duckworth, her teacher, and on the whole did not find the work too hard; her brains were bright when she chose to use them, and at present the thought of the Christmas report, which would be sent out for Daddy to look at, spurred on her efforts. So far Marjorie had not made any very great chums at school. She inclined to Mollie Simpson, but Mollie, like herself, was of a rather masterful disposition, and squabbles almost invariably ensued before the two had been long together. With the three girls who shared her dormitory she was on quite friendly, though not warm, terms. They had at first considered Marjorie inclined to "boss", and had made her thoroughly understand that, as a new girl, such an att.i.tude could not be tolerated in her. So long as she was content to manage her own cubicle and not theirs they were pleasant enough, but they united in a firm triumvirate of resistance whenever symptoms of swelled head began to arise in their room-mate.
One evening about the end of November the four girls were dressing for supper in their dormitory.
"It"s a grizzly nuisance having to change one"s frock!" groused Betty Moore. "It seems so silly to array oneself in white just to eat supper and do a little sewing afterwards. I hate the bother."
"Do you?" exclaimed Irene Andrews. "Now I like it. I think it would be perfectly piggy to wear the same serge dress from breakfast to bedtime.
Brackenfield scores over some schools in that. They certainly make things nice for us in the evenings."
"Um--yes, tolerably," put in Sylvia Page. "We don"t get enough music, in my opinion."
"We have a concert every Sat.u.r.day night, and charades on Wednesdays for those who care to act."
"I"d like gym practice every evening," said Betty. "Then I needn"t change my frock. When I leave school I mean to go on a farm, and wear corduroy knickers and leggings and thick boots all the time. It"ll be gorgeous. I love anything to do with horses, so perhaps they"ll let me plough. What shall you do, Marjorie?"
"Something to help the war, if it isn"t over. I"ll nurse, or drive a wagon, or ride a motor-bike with dispatches."
"I"d rather ride a horse than a bike any day," said Betty. "I used to hunt before the war. You needn"t smile. I was twelve when the war began, and I"d been hunting since I was seven, and got my first pony. It was a darling little brown Shetland named Sheila. I cried oceans when it died.
My next was a grey one named Charlie, and Tom, our coachman, taught me to take fences. He put up some little hurdles in a field, and kept making them higher and higher till I could get Charlie over quite well.
Oh, it was sport! I wish I"d a pony here."
"There used to be riding lessons before the war," sighed Irene. "Mother had promised me I should learn. But now, of course, there are no horses to be had, and the riding-master, Mr. Hall, has gone to the front. I wonder if things will ever be the same again? If I don"t learn to ride properly while I"m young I"ll never have a decent seat afterwards, I suppose."
"You certainly won"t," Betty a.s.sured her. "You ought to have begun when you were seven."
"Oh dear! And I shall be sixteen on Wednesday!"
"Is it your birthday next Wednesday?"
"Yes, but it won"t be much fun. We"re not allowed to do anything particular, worse luck."
It was one of the Brackenfield rules that no notice must be taken of birthdays. Girls might receive presents from home, but they were not to claim any special privileges or exemptions, to ask for exeats, or to bring cakes into the dining-hall. In a school of more than two hundred pupils it would have been difficult continually to make allowances first to one girl and then to another, and though in a sense all recognized the necessity of the rule, those whose birthdays fell during term-time bemoaned their hard fate.
It struck Marjorie as a very cheerless proceeding. She found an opportunity, when Irene was out of the way, to talk to her room-mates on the subject.
"Look here," she began. "It"s Renie"s birthday on Wednesday. I do think it"s the limit that we"re not supposed to take any notice of it. I vote we get up a little blow-out on our own for her. Let"s have a beano after we"re in bed."
"What a blossomy idea! Good for you, Marjorie! I"m your man if there"s any fun on foot," agreed Betty enthusiastically.
"It"ll be lovely; but how are we going to manage the catering department?" enquired Sylvia.
"Some of the Juniors will be going on parade to Whitecliffe on Wednesday. I"ll ask Dona to ask them to get a few things for us. We must have a cake, and some candles, and some cocoa, and some condensed milk, and anything else they can smuggle. Are you game?"
"Rather! If you"ll undertake to be general of the commissariat department."
"All serene! Don"t say a word about it to anyone else at St. Elgiva"s.
I"ll swear Dona to secrecy, and the St. Ethelberta kids aren"t likely to tell. They do the same themselves sometimes. And don"t on any account let Renie have wind of it. It"s to be a surprise."
On Wednesday evening, before supper, Marjorie met Dona by special appointment in the gymnasium, and the latter hastily thrust a parcel into her arms.
"You wouldn"t believe what difficulty I had to get it," she whispered.
"Mona and Peachy weren"t at all willing. They said they didn"t see why they should take risks for St. Elgiva"s, and you might run your own beano. I had to bribe them with ever so many of my best crests before I could make them promise. They say Miss Jones has got suspicious now about bulgy coats, and actually feels them. They have to sling bags under their skirts and it"s so uncomfy walking home. However, they did their best for you. There"s a cake, and three boxes of Christmas-tree candles, and a tin of condensed milk. They couldn"t get the cocoa, because just as they were going to buy it Miss Jones came up.
Everything"s dearer, and you didn"t give them enough. Mona paid, and you owe her fivepence halfpenny extra."
"I"ll give it you to-morrow at lunch-time. Thank them both most awfully.
I think they"re regular trumps. I"ll give them some of my crests if they like--I"m not really collecting and don"t want them. Think of us about midnight if you happen to wake. I wish you could join us."
"So do I. But that"s quite out of the question. Never mind; we have bits of fun ourselves sometimes."
Marjorie managed to convey her parcel unnoticed to No. 9 Dormitory.
According to arrangement, Betty and Sylvia were waiting there for her.
Irene, still oblivious of the treat in store for her, had not yet come upstairs. The three confederates undid their package, and gloated over its contents. The cake was quite a respectable one for war-time, to judge from appearances it had cherries in it, and there was a piece of candied peel on the top. The little boxes of Christmas-tree candles held half a dozen apiece, a.s.sorted colours. They took sixteen of them, sharpened the ends, and stuck them down into the cake.
"When it"s lighted it will look A 1," purred Betty.
"How are we going to open the tin of condensed milk?" asked Sylvia.
"It"s one of those tins you prise up," said Marjorie jauntily. "Give it to me. A penny"s the best weapon. Here you are! Quite easy."