L. Meade - A World of Girls - The Story of a School

“I don’t like her at all,” said Hester; “I did not know you were talking of her – she is a most rude, uncouth girl.” Cecil Temple, who had been arranging a small dark green table-cloth with daffodils worked artistically in each corner on her little table, stood up as the newcomer uttered these words, and regarded her fixedly.

“It is a pity to draw hasty conclusions,” she said. “There is no girl more loved in the school than Annie Forest. Even the teachers, although they are always punishing her, cannot help having a soft corner in their hearts for her. What can she possibly have done to offend you? – but oh! – hush – don’t speak – she is coming into the room.”

As Cecil finished her rather eager defence of her friend, and prevented the indignant words which were bubbling to Hester’s lips, a gay voice was heard singing a comic song in the passage – the play-room door was flung open with a bang, and Miss Forest entered the room with a small girl seated on each of her shoulders.

“Hold on, Janny love; keep your arms well round me, Mabel. Now then, here we go – twice up the room and down again. No more, as I’m alive. I’ve got to attend to other matters than you.”

She placed the little girls on the floor amid peals of laughter, and shouts from several little ones to give them a ride too. The children began to cling to her skirts and to drag her in all directions, and she finally escaped from them with one dexterous bound which placed her in that portion of the play-room where the little ones knew they were not allowed to enter.

Until her arrival the different girls scattered about the large room had been more or less orderly, chattering and laughing together, it is true, but in a quiet manner. Now the whole place appeared suddenly in an uproar.

“Annie, come here – Annie, darling, give me your opinion about this – Annie, my precious, naughty creature, come and tell me about your last scrape.”

Annie Forest blew several kisses to her adorers, but did not attach herself to any of them.

“The Temple requires me,” she said, in her sauciest tones; “my beloved friends, the Temple as usual is vouchsafing its sacred shelter to the stranger.”

In an instant Annie was kneeling inside the inclosure of Miss Temple’s rail and laughing immoderately.

“You dear stranger!” she exclaimed, turning round and gazing full into Hester’s shy face, “I do declare I have been punished for the intense ardour with which I longed to embrace you. Has she told you, Cecil darling, what I did in her behalf? How I ventured beyond the sacred precincts of the baize door and hid inside the porter’s room? Poor dear, she jumped when she heard my friendly voice, and as I spoke Miss Danesbury caught me in the very act. Poor old dear, she cried when she complained of me, but duty is Danesbury’s motto; she would go to the stake for it, and I respect her immensely. I have got my twenty lines of that horrible French poetry, to learn – the very thought almost strangles me, and I foresee plainly that I shall do something terribly naughty within the next few hours; I must, my love – I really must. I have just come here to shake hands with Miss Thornton, and then I must away to my penance. Ah, how little I shall learn, and how hard I shall think! Welcome to Lavender House, Miss Thornton; look upon me as your devoted ally, and if you have a spark of pity in your breast, feel for the girl whom you got into a scrape the very moment you entered these sacred walls.”

“I don’t understand you,” said Hester, who would not hold out her hand, and who was standing up in a very stiff, shy, and angular position. “I think you were very rude to startle me, and make personal remarks the very moment I came into the house.”

“Oh, dear! – I only said you were tall, and looked rather sulky, love – you did, you know, really.”

“It was very rude of you,” repeated Hester, turning crimson, and trying to keep back her tears.

“Well, my dear, I meant no harm; shake hands, now, and let us make friends.”

But Hester felt either too shy or too miserable to yield to this request – she half turned her back, and leaned against Miss Temple’s panel.

“Never mind her,” whispered gentle Cecil Temple; but Annie Forest’s bright face had darkened ominously – the school favourite was not accustomed to having her advances flung back in her face. She left the room singing a defiant, naughty song, and several of the girls who had overheard this scene whispered one to the other —

“She can’t be at all nice – she would not even shake hands with Annie. Fancy her turning against our Annie in that way!”

Annie Forest had scarcely left the room before Miss Danesbury appeared with a message for Hester, who was to come with her directly to see Mrs Willis. The poor shy girl felt only too glad to leave behind her the cruel, staring, and now by no means approving eyes of her school-mates. She had overheard several of their whispers, and felt rather alarmed at her own act. But Hester, shy as she was, could be very tenacious of an idea. She had taken a dislike to Annie Forest, and she was quite determined to be true to what she considered her convictions – namely, that Annie was underbred and common, and not at all the kind of girl whom her mother would have cared for her to know. The little girl followed Miss Danesbury in silence. They crossed the stone hall together, and now passing through another baize door, found themselves once more in the handsome entrance-hall. They walked across this hall to a door carefully protected from all draughts by rich plush curtains, and Miss Danesbury, turning the handle, and going a step or two into the room, said in her gentle voice —

“I have brought Hester Thornton to see you, Mrs Willis, according to your wish.”

Miss Danesbury then withdrew, and Hester ventured to raise her eyes and to look timidly at the head-mistress.

A tall woman, with a beautiful face and silvery white hair, came instantly to meet her, laid her two hands on the girl’s shoulders, and then, raising her shy little face, imprinted a kiss on her forehead.

“Your mother was one of my earliest pupils, Hester,” she said, “and you are – no – ” after a pause, “you are not very like her. You are her child, however, my dear, and as such you have a warm welcome from me. Now, come and sit by the fire, and let us talk.”

Hester did not feel nearly so constrained with this graceful and gracious lady as she had done with her school-mates. The atmosphere of the room recalled her beloved mother’s boudoir at home. The rich, dove-coloured satin dress, the cap made of Mechlin lace which softened and shaded Mrs Willis’s silvery hair, appeared homelike to the little girl, who had grown up accustomed to all the luxuries of wealth. Above all, the head-mistress’s mention of her mother drew her heart toward the beautiful face, and attracted her toward the rich, full tones of a voice which could be powerful and commanding at will. Mrs Willis, notwithstanding her white hair, had a youthful face, and Hester made the comment which came first to her lips —

“I did not think you were old enough to have taught my mother.”

“I am sixty, dear, and I have kept this school for thirty years. Your mother was not the only pupil who sent her children to be taught by me when the time came. Now, you can sit on this stool by the fire and tell me about your home. Your mother – ah, poor child, you would rather not talk about her just yet. Helen’s daughter must have strong feelings – ah, yes; I see, I see. Another time, darling, when you know me better. Now tell me about your little sister, and your father. You do not know, perhaps, that I am Nan’s godmother?”