Part 1 (1/2)
The Princess of the School.
by Angela Brazil.
CHAPTER I
The Ingleton Family
On a certain morning, just a week before Christmas, the little world of school at Chilcombe Hall was awake and stirring at an unusually early hour. Long before the slightest hint of dawn showed in the sky the lamps were lighted in the corridors, maids were scuttling about, bringing in breakfast, and Jones, the gardener, a.s.sisted by his eldest boy, a st.u.r.dy grinning urchin of twelve, was beginning the process of carrying down piles of hand-bags and hold-alls, and stacking them on a cart which was waiting in the drive outside.
Miss Walters, dreading the Christmas rush on the railway, had determined to take time by the forelock, and meant to pack off her pupils by the first available trains, trusting they would most of them reach their destinations before the overcrowding became a serious problem in the traffic. The pupils themselves offered no objections to this early start. The sooner they reached home and began the holidays, so much the better from their point of view. It was fun to get up by lamp-light, when the stars were still s.h.i.+ning in the sky; fun to find that rules were relaxed, and for once they might chatter and talk as they pleased; fun to run unreproved along the pa.s.sages, sing on the stairs, and twirl one another round in an impromptu dance in the hall.
The particular occupants of the Blue Bedroom had been astir even before the big bell clanged for rising, so they stole a march over rival dormitories, performed their toilets, packed their hand-bags, strapped their wraps, and proceeded downstairs to the dining-hall, where cups and plates were just being laid upon the breakfast-table. It was quite superfluous energy on the part of Lilias, Dulcie, Gowan, and Bertha, for as a matter of fact not one of them was on the list of earliest departures, but the excitement of the general exodus had awakened them as absolutely as the advent of Santa Claus on Christmas mornings. They stood round the newly-lighted fire, warming their hands, chatting, and hailing fresh arrivals who hurried into the hall.
”You going by the 6.30, Edith? You lucker! My train doesn't start till ten! I begged and implored Miss Walters to let me leave by the early one, and wait at the junction, but she would not hear of it, so I've got to stop here kicking my heels, and watch you others whisked away. Isn't it a grisly shame?”
Gowan's round rosy face was drawn into a decided pout, and her blue eyes were full of self-pity. She had to be sorry for her own grievance, because n.o.body else had either time or much inclination to sympathize; they were all far too much excited about their own concerns.
”Well, you'll get off sometime, I suppose,” returned Edith airily.
”There are twelve of us, all going together as far as Colminster. We mean to cram into one carriage if we can. Don't suppose the train will be full, as it's so early. I thought you were coming with us, Bertha, but Miss Hardy says you're not!”
”Dad changed his mind at the last minute, and promised to send the car to fetch me. It's only forty miles by road, you know, though it takes hours by the train. He seemed to think I should lose either myself or my luggage at Sheasby Junction, and it is a horrid place to change. You never can get hold of a porter, and you don't know which platform you'll start from.”
”How are you going home, Lilias?” asked Noreen, who with several other girls had joined the group at the fire.
Lilias, squatting on the fender, stretching two cold hands towards the blazing sticks, looked up brightly.
”We're riding! Astley and Elton are to fetch Rajah and Peri over for us.
Grandfather said they needed exercise. I don't suppose he'd have thought of it, only Dulcie wrote to Cousin Clare and begged her to ask him.
Won't it be just splendiferous? We haven't had a ride the whole term, and I'm pining to see Rajah!”
”Grandfather had promised to let us ride to school in September,” put in Dulcie, ”but Everard and a friend of his commandeered the horses and went to Rasebury, so we couldn't have them, and we were so disappointed.
I do hope nothing will happen to stop them this time! Everard was to arrive home yesterday, so he'll be before us. I shan't ever be friends with him again if he plays us such a mean trick!”
”It's 'coach--carriage--wheelbarrow--truck,' it seems to me, the way we're all trotting home!” laughed Edith. ”If I could have my choice, I'd sprint on a scooter!”
”Next term we'll travel by private aeroplane, specially chartered!”
scoffed Noreen.
”I don't mind how I go, so long as I get off somehow!” chirped Truie.
”Thank goodness, here come the urns at last! I began to think breakfast would never be ready. We want to have time to eat something before we start.”
Miss Walters' excellent arrangements had left ample time for the healthy young appet.i.tes to be satisfied before the taxis arrived at the door to convey the first contingent of pupils to the station. Sixteen girls, under the escort of a mistress, took their departure in the highest of spirits, packed as tightly as sardines, but managing to wave good-bys.
Their boxes had been dispatched the previous day, their hand-bags had gone on by cart before breakfast and would be waiting for them at the station, where Jones, that most useful factotum, would, by special arrangement with the station-master, be taking their tickets before the ordinary opening of the booking-office.
Though the departure of sixteen girls made somewhat of a clearance at Chilcombe Hall, Miss Walters' labors were not yet over. There was a train at eight and a train at ten, and the young people who had to wait for these found it difficult to know how to employ the interval until it was their turn to enter the taxis. By nine o'clock Lilias and Dulcie, ready in their riding habits, were looking eagerly out of the dining-hall window along the drive which led to the gate.
”I know Elton would be early,” said Dulcie. ”It's always Astley who stops and fusses. It was the same when Everard went cub-hunting. You don't think there's a hitch, do you?” (uneasily). ”Shall we get a horrid yellow envelope and a message to say 'Come by train'? It would be _too_ bad, and yet, it's as likely as not!”