Meg looked blankly in the direction of the speaker.
"Is not your name Beecham?" said this lady with a shade of annoyance in her voice.
Meg shook her head in the negative; then suddenly remembering the warning she had received not to forget:
"Yes--Beecham--that"s my name," she said hurriedly, with the vivid nod that usually accompanied her a.s.sertions.
A t.i.tter went round the table.
"Hush!" said Miss Grantley severely.
Meg sat stiff and upright.
"Will you have milk or cocoa?" repeated Miss Grantley.
"Cocoa," blurted out Meg with monosyllabic brevity, in her confusion forgetting her manners.
She was intensely aware of the nudgings going on around her; of subdued fits of laughter shaking some of the young ladies; of the surprised stare of others. She caught Miss Grantley"s cold glance.
Meg seized with both hands the cup pa.s.sed on to her and hurriedly gulped down some of its contents.
As she put it down she again encountered shocked and amazed glances. An embarra.s.sed misgiving fell upon her. Breaking her bread into small morsels she slowly munched, gazing down into her plate.
When she became aware of a general pushing back of chairs and of rising about her, Meg stood up. She knew the teacher was saying grace. Her spectacled neighbor then nodded.
"Come along," she said, and Meg followed.
The girls were pouring into another room. They at once surrounded Meg.
The whispers became audible.
"Who is she?"
"Who brought her?"
"Where did she come from?"
To Meg"s surprise, one of the girls approached her and said with familiar cordiality:
"What is your name--your real name, I mean?"
"My real name?" repeated Meg. She was standing inflexibly upright near a table.
"The name you were called by before to-day?" said her interrogator.
"You did not recognize your name when you were called Beecham--what is your real name?" said another.
Meg did not answer for a moment. She remembered her promise to the mysterious white-haired stranger. Then she said huskily:
"What does it signify what name I had before?"
Again she paused.
"Then you had another name?" said the pretty girl in a thin, high voice.
"How very romantic!"
"Don"t tease her--what does it signify?" put in Ursula.
"What does it signify?" was repeated all round in what Meg fancied a not unkindly tone. She took courage.
"What is in a name?" demanded one of the girls.
"A rose by any other name would smell as sweet would it not?" said another.
"Yes," said Meg, bewildered.
"Where did you live!" questioned one.
Meg remained mute. Again her promise to the mysterious stranger sealed her lips.
"Up a tree," suggested one.
"Second branch," said another with a laugh.
"Letters to you came addressed "Miss What"s-her-name, second branch, fourth tree, on the right side of the road,"" cried a third.
This description of Meg"s late abode was greeted by peals of laughter.
"Visitors climbed up," suggested another.
"Why do you say those things?" asked Meg, looking round on the laughing faces. "I am come here to learn lessons--to grow up to be a lady. That"s what I come for."
"A lady!" echoed all around her.
"A lady is born a lady," said a tall girl who had not spoken hitherto.
She had a high nose and a voice of ice.
"My mother was a lady," said Meg.
"Your mother!" was echoed all around.
Meg did not answer; words seemed to tremble on her lips as she gazed on her tormentors.
"Is your dress her taste?" asked one.
"Did she teach you to say "Cocoa" like that, without saying "if you please"?" asked another, mimicking Meg"s answer to Miss Grantley.
"My mother taught me nothing--she is dead," said Meg slowly.