Part 2 (1/2)

CHAPTER III

THE WAYS OF WAKEHURST PRIORY

Meanwhile in the Lower Fifth sitting-room, Jack--Joanna Pym, Geraldine afterwards discovered her full name to be--was instructing the new girl in the ways of Wakehurst Priory.

”Ever been to school before?” she asked, regarding Geraldine with some interest, when Monica had left the room and most of the other girls had moved away, thus leaving the two alone together.

”No, never,” said Geraldine, feeling that the admission implied some grave neglect upon somebody's part.

Jack appeared to take this view of the matter also.

”You're awfully old to come to school for the first time. Fifteen on your last birthday, didn't you say? You must be pretty good at lessons, though, to be in the Lower Fifth right away. Miss Oakley usually puts people into a form lower than they could go into, for their first term, because she says that entrance examinations are so deceptive, and if the girls are really good they can always be moved up. We don't often get new girls in the Lower Fifth--most of the new kids begin in the Lower School. I guess you'll be the only new girl in our form this term.”

”Shall I?” said Geraldine. ”I'm rather sorry for that. It would have been nicer if there had been somebody else new, too.”

”Oh, I don't know. New girls are a rotten lot as a rule,” replied Jack airily. ”You seem rather decenter than most. But you will have an awful lot to learn if you've never been to school before.”

”Why? Are the lessons so very difficult?” questioned Geraldine.

”Oh, it isn't the _lessons_,” replied her informant. ”Lessons don't really count very much at school, except with the mistresses. It's games and rules and--and--well, school etiquette in general, you know.

I expect it will take you quite a term to learn all our school ways.”

”Will it?” said Geraldine, looking rather alarmed. Jack hastened to rea.s.sure her.

”You needn't look so scared about it! Of course there are heaps of unwritten rules and things which you'll have to pick up, besides all the rules which the mistresses make. But people make allowances for you your first term, and I'll help you a lot, if you'd like me to.

I've been here for years and years and years, and there isn't much about the old Priory I couldn't put you up to--though I'm not specially good at lessons,” Jack added, with becoming modesty.

”Oh, I wish you would! Tell me about things, I mean. What happens next this evening? And what time do we start lessons, and when do we play games, and all that?”

”I'd better begin at the beginning,” said Jack, nothing loath at the opportunity of exercising her tongue. Jack was an inveterate chatterbox. ”Getting-up bell goes at seven, breakfast is at quarter to eight. Eight-fifteen to eight-thirty we tidy cubicles and make our beds. Then there's half an hour free, which we're supposed on fine days to spend in the quad or somewhere out in the grounds, before the bell goes at nine o'clock for prayers. We all a.s.semble then in the Great Hall and march into Chapel for prayers, in the order of forms.

You'd better stick to me to-morrow morning, and I'll show you where to stand and sit. After prayers, we go to our form rooms and work until eleven. At eleven there's half an hour's recess, when you can get cocoa and biscuits, if you want them, in the dining-hall. Then lessons again until one o'clock, tidy yourself, and dinner at quarter-past.

Then there's a free time until half-past two, when either you have to go for a walk or play games.”

”May you choose which you do?” asked Geraldine.

”Rather not!” answered Jack emphatically. ”You're marked down which you're to be. Usually you get about four games' afternoons a week, and the rest walks. In the summer we do prep in the afternoon, and have games after tea. But this term we do prep in the evening, and have our hockey in the afternoon. Do you play hockey?”

”No,” confessed Geraldine, rather uneasily.

”That's a pity,” said her new friend. ”How was that? Wasn't there any sort of a club in the village where you lived?”

”Y--yes--there was,” said Geraldine. ”But my people wouldn't let me join. Mother and Dad didn't approve much of hockey for girls.”

”What a shame!” sympathised Jack. ”Weren't you jolly sick about it?”

Geraldine flushed suddenly hotly red. She wished that she could have honestly said ”Yes.” But she was a very truthful person, and even to make a favourable impression upon Jack--to whom she had taken an immense liking--she could not prevaricate.

”Well, no, not exactly,” she said in a low tone. ”You--you see, I didn't much think I should care about it, myself.”