Part 59 (1/2)

”Just go where you see the other girls go,” Mademoiselle rejoined sharply.

Not being a favourite, the French mistress was left to wander about alone. Popular teachers always had some girls hanging on to their arms out in the garden, and sitting with them when they were on duty indoors; but Mademoiselle seldom had a satellite, and never one who was respected. The girls thought her deceitful, and deceit was one of the things not tolerated in the school. Miss Bey was believed to be above deceit of any kind, and was liked and respected accordingly in spite of her angular appearance, sharp manner, the certainty that she was not a lady by birth, and the suspicion that her father kept a shop. The girls had certain simple tests of character and station.

They attend more to each other's manners in the matter of nicety at girls' schools than at boys', more's the pity for those who have to live with the boys afterwards. If a new girl drank with her mouth full, ate audibly, took things from the end instead of the side of a spoon, or bit her bread instead of breaking it at dinner, she was set down as nothing much at home, which meant that her people were socially of no importance, not to say common; and if she were not perfectly frank and honest, or if she ever said coa.r.s.e or indelicate things, she was spoken of contemptuously as a dockyard girl, which meant one of low mind and objectionable manners, who was in a bad set at home and made herself cheap after the manner of a garrison hack, the terms being nearly equivalent. There was no pretence of impossible innocence among the elder girls, but neither was there any impropriety of language or immodesty of conduct. Certain subjects were avoided, and if a girl made any allusion to them by chance, she was promptly silenced; if she recurred to them persistently, she was set down at once as a dockyard girl and an outsider. The consequence of this high standard was an extremely good tone all through the school.

Beth turned into the lime-tree avenue, where she met several sets of girls all walking in rows with their arms round each other. None of them took any notice of her, until she got out on to the drive, where she met Amy Wynne with her children. Amy let go the two she had her arms round, sent them all on, and stopped to speak to Beth.

”Have you no mother?” she asked.

”I have one at home,” Beth answered coldly in spite of herself.

”But you know our custom here,” Amy rejoined. ”The elder girls are mothers to the young ones.”

”I know,” said Beth, ”but I don't want a mother. I should hate to have my thoughts interrupted by a lot of little girls in a row, all cackling together.”

”I was going to offer,” Amy began, ”but, of course, if you are so self-reliant, it would only be an impertinence.”

”Oh no!” said Beth, sincerely regretting her own ungraciousness. ”It is kind of you, and if it were you alone, I should be glad, but I could not stand the others.”

”Well, I hope you won't be lonely,” Amy answered, and hurried on after her children.

”Lonely I must be,” Beth muttered to herself with sudden foreboding.

When the girls went in, Beth was summoned to the big music-room. ”Old Tom” was there with Dr. Centry, who came twice a week to hear the girls play. There were twelve pianos in the room, ten upright and two grand, besides Old Tom's own private grand, all old, hard, and metallic; and twelve girls hammered away on them, all together, at the same piece; but if one made a mistake, Old Tom instantly detected it, and knew which it was.

”Do ye know any music?” she asked Beth in a gruff voice with a rough Scotch accent.

”A little,” Beth answered.

”What, for instance?” Old Tom pursued, looking at Beth as if she were a culprit up for judgment.

”Some of Chopin,” Beth replied. ”I like him best.”

Old Tom raised her eyebrows incredulously. ”Sit down here and play one of his compositions, if you please--here, at my piano,” she said, opening the instrument.

But Beth felt intimidated for once, partly by the offensive manners of the formidable-looking old woman, her bulk and gruffness, but also because Old Tom's doubt of her powers, which she perceived, was shaking her confidence. She sat down at the piano, however, and struck a few notes; then her nerve forsook her.

”I can't play,” she said. ”I'm nervous.”

”Humph!” snarled Old Tom. ”I thought that 'ud be your Chopin! Go and learn exercises with the children in Miss Tait's cla.s.s-room.”

Miss Tait, acting on Old Tom's report, put Beth into one of her lower cla.s.ses, and left her to practise with the beginners. When she had gone, Beth glanced at the exercises, and then began to rattle them off at such a rate that no one in the cla.s.s could keep up with her. Miss Tait came hurrying back.

”Who is that playing so fast?” she said. ”Was it you, Miss Caldwell?”

”Yes,” Beth answered.

”Then you must go into a higher cla.s.s,” said Miss Tait.

But the same thing happened in every cla.s.s until at last Beth had run up through them all, as up a flight of stairs, into Old Tom's first.

Her piano in the first, when the whole cla.s.s was present and she had no choice, was a hard old instrument, usually avoided because it was the nearest to the table at which Old Tom sat (when she did not walk about) during a lesson. The first time Beth took her place at it, the other girls were only beginning to a.s.semble, and Old Tom was not in the room. A great teasing of instruments, as Old Tom called it, was going on. A new piece was to be taken that morning, and each girl began to try it as soon as she sat down, so that they were all at different pa.s.sages. They stopped, however, and looked up when Beth appeared.