L. Meade - Girls New and Old

IT was an autumn evening when Molly Lavender first arrived at Redgarth. This large school for girls was situated in a certain well-known district in the north of England. It adjoined a cathedral town of great beauty, and was in the neighborhood of those wide downs and far-reaching moors for which this part of the country is justly famed. The school itself was inclosed in spacious gardens, occupying several acres of land. The houses of residence surrounded the great hall and lecture rooms, where the work of education was carried on. There were eight houses of residence, and from forty to fifty girls lived in each.

It had been the dream of Molly Lavender's life to go to Redgarth. Her education hitherto had been conducted partly at home, and partly in a small school; she longed to enter a wider world, and looked forward with much enthusiasm to the comradeship and esprit de corps which would form part of the education of her new life. A vacancy had been offered her at St. Dorothy's, one of the most popular of the houses, and when her cab drew up there on this lovely evening, a very eager and excited young face peeped out.

Molly was fifteen, just the age when girls can be shy. She had lived in a whirl of excited feeling during all her long journey from London; but now that she had really arrived at Redgarth, a sense of unexpected timidity assailed her, and although she was not such a coward as to wish to run away, she heartily desired the first evening to be well over.

When she appeared, a group of girls were standing idly chatting in the beautiful entrance-hall. No one spoke for a moment; but before there was time for real embarrassment, the principal of the house, a tall, good-looking, dignified woman of about thirty, came out of a room at one side of the hall. She gave Molly a cordial welcome, introduced her to one or two of her companions, and then took her upstairs, to show her her own little room.

"I hope you will be thoroughly happy at Redgarth, my dear," said Miss Leicester, in her brisk, energetic voice. "You are very fortunate in finding a vacancy in this house. We are all very happy here, and I think I can promise that you will have a good time. Our motto is, Plenty of work, and plenty of play; the life is as healthy and full of pleasure as life can be. For my part, I envy girls who, like yourself, come to a great school like this with all their future fresh before them. By the way, what is your Christian name? It is the custom at St. Dorothy's to call the girls who are in residence by their Christian names."

"My name is Molly," replied Molly Lavender, looking, with her clear brown eyes full at Miss Leicester.

Miss Leicester could not help smiling at the sweet, frank face. "Molly is a very good name," she said; "there is something lovable about it. I hope you will have a happy time here, Molly. And now tell me how you like your room."

"Am I to have this room all to myself?" asked Molly.

"Certainly; how do you like it?"

"I think it lovely – only – is it my sitting room?"

"Sitting room and bedroom in one. Oh, you don't see your bed! Let me show it to you."

Miss Leicester walked across the little room, to where a luxurious-looking sofa stood: she pulled aside a pretty covering, and showed underneath a properly made-up bed, small, certainly, but looking most inviting, with its snowy sheets and white frilled pillows.

"There, Molly," she said, "I hope you will sleep soundly in that little bed. Your washing apparatus is cleverly hidden away behind this screen. This pretty bureau contains a bookcase on the top, a writing table and desk at one side, a set of drawers for your linen at the other. Behind this curtain you will hang up your dresses. Now, my dear, I must leave you; but we shall meet, I hope, at supper time."

Miss Leicester nodded brightly, and the next moment the tired girl was alone.

"If only Cecil were here!" thought Molly to herself. "I wonder if there is any chance of Cecil coming. Oh, yes, this is a sweet little room, but I feel shy just now. I feel quite stupidly shy, and like a fish out of water. Still, I'm determined not to remain in that uncomfortable position an hour longer than I can help. Grannie has sent me here, she sent me rather against her own inclination, and I'm determined to prove to her that she has done the right and only thing to satisfy me. I could not live if I didn't make something of my life. Grannie objects to Girton and Newnham, but she has consented to my finishing my education at Redgarth. Now, then, for a good tussle with the fates; I shall win, I feel convinced. If only Cecil were here, I should feel certain on the subject."

Molly took off her hat, brushed the dust carefully from her dress, rearranged her smooth brown hair, and washed her face and hands. Then she went over to the window, threw it open, and looked out. Redgarth is one of the most beautiful towns in northern England. It boasts of a lovely cathedral, and from where Molly stood she could see its four slender spires, and its gray turrets, hoary with age. The next moment the hour struck, and a chime of bells rang beautifully out on the evening air.

"It is lovely," thought the girl, clasping her hands. "I know I shall adore that old cathedral. How joyous those chimes sound! how beautiful the evening sky looks at the back of the spires! Yes, this lovely sunset on my first arrival is a good omen. I hope, with all my heart, that I shall do well here."

There came a knock at the door. Molly said "Come in," and a girl with dark eyes and hair entered the room.

"My name is Hester Temple," she said. "As you are quite new, I thought perhaps you would like to come down to supper with me."

"You are very kind," said Molly, with some timidity in her voice.

"I hope you like your room," said Hester.

"Yes; I think it charming."

Miss Temple went and stood by the bureau; she tapped her fingers on its polished surface somewhat impatiently.

"They all make that sort of remark at first," she said; "they all call their rooms charming until they find out their defects."

"Whom do you mean by they?" asked Molly.

"The girls at St. Dorothy's. You belong to 'they.'"

"Do I?" said Molly. The color flooded her cheeks.

Miss Temple regarded her with a fixed and critical stare.

"I wish you would come here, just for a moment," she said. "Please stand so, facing the light."

"Why?" asked Molly.

"Won't you oblige me?"

"Yes, certainly; here I am. Now, what do you want?"

"To take a good look at you, of course; do you know you are quite good-looking?"

Molly laughed.

"I wish you would not flatter me, Miss Temple," she said.

"It is not flattery – I abhor flattery – I never flatter anyone; I am remarked all over the school for my brusqueness. I simply state a fact – a very patent fact; others will tell it to you in more glowing language. You are good-looking; you have a clear complexion; not much color, but that doesn't really matter; your hair is thick and abundant, awfully prim and old-fashioned in the way it is arranged, but that can be altered. I can quite imagine that, if anything excites you, your face will wake up into real beauty. Now pray don't begin the usual thing; don't say, 'Oh, Miss Temple!' or anything commonplace of that sort. In the first place, I am not Miss Temple to you – I am Hester. We're all Hester, and Jane, and Anne, and Mary, or whatever our Christian names happen to be, to each other. What is your name? Desdemona, I should think; or perhaps Ophelia – you've got something of the martyr droop."

"Oh, what a horrid thing to say!" replied Molly, brisking up and laughing. "I am not so fortunate as to be distinguished by the name of either Desdemona or Ophelia: I am simply Molly."