"He lives with Mrs. Trevellyan," explained Betty, "because he hasn"t got any father or mother of his own."
"Oh, Betty, he has!" burst out Barbara.
"Well, that"s the first I ever heard of them, then. I thought he was an orphan."
"He"s as good as an orphan, poor little chap."
"Why?"
"n.o.body ever mentions his father."
"Why on earth not?"
"Oh, I don"t know! There"s something mysterious. Mrs. Trevellyan doesn"t like it talked about. n.o.body dare even drop a hint to her."
"What"s wrong with Ronnie"s father?"
"I tell you I don"t know, except that I believe he did something he shouldn"t have."
"Rough on Ronnie."
"Ronnie doesn"t know, of course, and n.o.body would be cruel enough to tell him. You must promise you"ll none of you mention what I"ve said.
Not to anybody."
"Rather not! You can trust us!" replied all.
It was perhaps only natural that the affairs of the Castle should seem important to the dwellers at the Dower House. The two buildings lay so near together, yet were so isolated in their position as regarded other habitations, that they united in many ways for their mutual convenience.
If Miss Birks"s gardener was going to the town he would execute commissions for the Castle, as well as for his own mistress; and, on the other hand, the Castle chauffeur would call at the Dower House for letters to be sent by the late post. Mrs. Trevellyan was a widow with no family of her own. She had adopted her great-nephew Ronald while he was still quite a baby, and he could remember no other home than hers. The little fellow was the one delight and solace of her advancing years. Her life centred round Ronnie; she thought continually of his interests, and made many plans for his future. He was her constant companion, and his pretty, affectionate ways and merry chatter did much to help her to forget old griefs. He was a most winning, engaging child, a favourite with everybody, and reigned undoubtedly as monarch in the hearts of all who had the care of him. It was partly on Ronnie"s account, and partly because she really loved young people, that Mrs. Trevellyan took so much notice of the pupils at the Dower House. On her nephew"s behalf she would have preferred a boys" preparatory school for neighbour, but even girls over fourteen were better than n.o.body; they made an element of youth that was good for Ronnie, and prevented the Castle from seeming too dull. The knowledge that he might perhaps meet his friends on the headland gave an object to the little boy"s daily walk, and the jokes and banter with which they generally greeted him provided him with a subject for conversation afterwards.
The girls on their part showed the liveliest interest in anything connected with the Castle. They would watch the motor pa.s.sing in and out of the great gates, would peep from their top windows to look at the gardeners mowing the lawns, and would even count the rooks" nests that were built in the grove of elm trees. Occasionally Mrs. Trevellyan would ask the whole school to tea, and that was regarded as so immense a treat that the girls always looked forward to the delightful chance that some fortunate morning an invitation might be forthcoming.
Mrs. Trevellyan had been staying in London at the beginning of the term, but early in February she returned home again. On the day after her arrival the girls were walking back from a hockey practice on the warren, swinging their way along the narrow tracks between last year"s bracken and heather, or having an impromptu long-jump contest where a small stream crossed the path.
"It"s so jolly to see the flag up again at the Castle," said Evie Bennett, looking at the turret where the Union Jack was flying bravely in the breeze. "I always feel as if it"s a kind of national defence. Any ships sailing by would know it was England they were pa.s.sing."
"I like it because it means Mrs. Trevellyan"s at home," said Deirdre Sullivan. "A place seems so forlorn when the family"s away. Did Ronnie come back too, last night?"
"Yes, Hilda Marriott saw him from the window this morning. He was going down the road with his new governess. Why, there he is--actually watching for us, the darling!"
The girls had to pa.s.s close to a turnstile that led from the Castle grounds into the warren, and here, perched astride the top rail of the gate, evidently on the look-out for them, a small boy was waving his cap in frantic welcome. He was a pretty little fellow, with the bluest of eyes and the fairest of skins, and the lightest of flaxen hair, and he seemed dimpling all over his merry face with delight at the meeting. The girls simply made a rush for him, and he was handed about from one to another, struggling in laughing protest, till at last he wriggled himself free, and retiring behind the turnstile, held the gate as a barrier.
[Ill.u.s.tration: A SMALL BOY WAS WAVING HIS CAP IN FRANTIC WELCOME _Page 48_]
"I knew you"d be coming past, so I got leave to play here. Thank you all for your Christmas cards," he said gaily. "Yes--I like my new governess.
Her name"s Miss Herbert, and she"s ripping. Auntie"s going to ask you to tea. I want to show you my engine I got at Christmas. It goes round the floor and it really puffs. You"ll come?"
"Oh! we"ll come all right," chuckled the girls. "We"ve got something at the Dower House to show you, too. No, we shan"t tell you what it is--it"s to be a surprise. Oh, goody! There"s the bell! Ta-ta! We must be off! If we don"t fly, we shall all be late for call-over. No, you"re not to come through the gate to say good-bye! Go back, you rascal! You know you"re not allowed on the warren!"
As the big bell at the Dower House was clang-clanging its loudest, the girls set off at a run. There was not a minute to be lost if they meant to be in their places to answer "Present" to their names; and missing the roll-call meant awkward explanations with Miss Birks. One only, oblivious of the urgency of the occasion, lingered behind. Gerda Thorwaldson had stood apart while the others greeted Ronnie, merely looking on as if the meeting were of no interest to her. n.o.body had taken the slightest notice of her, or had indeed remembered her existence at the moment. She counted for so little with her schoolfellows that it never struck them to introduce her to their favourite; in fact they had been totally occupied among themselves in fighting for possession of him. She remained now, until the very last school sports" cap was round the corner and out of sight. Then she dashed through the turnstile, and overtaking Ronnie, thrust a packet of chocolates, rather awkwardly, into his hand.
The bell had long ceased clanging, and Miss Birks had closed the call-over book when Gerda entered the schoolroom. As she would offer no explanation of her lateness, she was given a page of French poetry to learn, to teach her next time to regard punctuality as a cardinal virtue. She took her punishment with absolute stolidity.
"What a queer girl she is! She never seems to care what happens," said Dulcie. "I should mind if Miss Birks glared at me in that way, to say nothing of a whole page of _Athalie_."
"She looked as if she"d been crying when she came in," remarked Deirdre.
"She"s not crying now, at any rate. She simply looks unapproachable.
What made her so late? She was with us on the warren."
"How should I know? If she won"t tell, she won"t. You might as well try to make a mule gallop uphill as attempt to get even the slightest, most ordinary, everyday sc.r.a.p of information out of such a sphinx as Gerda Thorwaldson."
CHAPTER V
Practical Geography
Miss Birks often congratulated herself on the fact that the smallness of her school allowed her to give a proportionately large amount of individual attention to her pupils. There was no possibility at the Dower House for even the laziest girl to shirk lessons and shield her ignorance behind the general bulk of information possessed by the Form.
Backward girls, dull girls, delicate girls--all had their special claims considered and their fair chances accorded. There was no question of "pa.s.sing in a crowd". Each pupil stood or fell on the merits of her own work, and every item of her progress was noted with as much care as if she were the sole charge of the establishment. Miss Birks had many theories of education, some gleaned from national conferences of teachers, and others of her own evolving, all on the latest of modern lines. One of her pet theories was the practical application, whenever possible, of every lesson learnt. According to the season the girls botanized, geologized, collected caterpillars and chrysalides, or hunted for marine specimens on the sh.o.r.e, vying with each other in a friendly rivalry as to which could secure the best contributions for the school museum.
There was no subject, however, in Miss Birks"s estimation which led itself more readily to practical ill.u.s.tration than geography. Every variety of physical feature was examined in the original situation, so that watersheds, tributaries, table-lands, currents, and comparative elevations became solid facts instead of mere book statements, and each girl was taught to make her own map of the district.
"I believe we"ve examined everything except an iceberg and a volcano,"
declared Betty Scott one day, "and I verily believe Miss Birks is on the look-out for both--hoped an iceberg might be washed ash.o.r.e during those few cold days we had in January, and you know she told us Beacon Hill was the remains of an extinct volcano. I expect she wished it might burst out suddenly again, like Vesuvius, just to show us how it did it!"
"Wouldn"t we squeal and run if we heard rumblings and saw jets of steam coming up?" commented Evie Bennett. "I don"t think many of us would stay to do scientific work, and take specimens of the lava."
"Where are we going this afternoon?" asked Elyned Hughes.
"Mapping, Miss Birks said. We"re to make for the old windmill, and then draw a radius of six miles, from Kergoff to Avonporth. Hurry up, you others! It"s after two, and Miss Harding"s waiting on the terrace. What a set of slow-coaches you are!"
It was the turn of VB to have a practical geography demonstration, and they started, therefore, under the guidance of the second mistress, to survey the physical features of a certain portion of the neighbourhood, and record them in a map. Each girl was furnished by Miss Birks with a paper of questions, intended to be a guide to her observations:
1.--Using the windmill as a centre, what direction do the roads take?
2.--What villages or farms must be noted?
3.--What rivers or streams, and their courses?
4.--What lakes or ponds?
5.--The general outline of the coast?
6.--Are there hills or mountains?
7.--What historical monuments should be marked with a cross?