Part 2 (2/2)
”We might have a box for fines,” suggested Josephine hopefully.
”I have it!” cried Nancy. ”Judith's idea of the cabin was an inspiration. Let's pretend we _are_ a s.h.i.+p. Cathy'll be the captain and we'll be the crew and we'll have to be disciplined if we're not orderly.”
Nancy's plan was received with enthusiasm, chiefly because, since sororities were not permitted in the school, it gave them a chance to band themselves together. They had great fun discussing a name before they finally settled on Josephine's suggestion of the ”Jolly Susan.”
”'Jolly,' because we _are_ jolly, and 'Susan,' because, well--don't you think of 'Susan' as tidy, and a s.h.i.+p?”
So the cubicles were formally christened the ”Jolly Susan” by Jane, who donated a bottle of ginger-ale for the purpose, and Judith's empty candy-box was hung up beside Catherine's door to hold the fines which were to be used ”for the sustenance of disabled (or dejected) seamen.”
Sally May entreated Judith to show her how she managed to stow away all her belongings so neatly, and when the half-past two bell rang for outdoor recreation, the ”Jolly Susan” was ready for Captain Catherine's inspection.
A basket-ball practice for South House had been posted on the bulletin board, but Judith felt lazy and wanted to finish ”The Scarlet Pimpernel,” so, taking her book, she went across the quadrangle to a sheltered spot under the big beech tree where she meant to spend a blissful hour reading and lying at her ease on the soft warm gra.s.s.
The story would be sure to be interesting, but she postponed the treat and lay watching the big white clouds sailing lazily across the blue of the sky, and enjoying the brilliant splashes of colour in the maples at the foot of the garden.
It had been a very happy week, Judith decided, reviewing the events which she planned to chronicle in her letter to her mother to-night. How nice everybody had been to her! No one could have a better chum than Nancy! How pleased Mother would be that she had received such an excellent mark for her room; and Daddy would be delighted at the high mark Miss Marlowe had given her on that initial literature test; Nancy and Josephine were loud in their admiration of the way she had translated for Miss Langton in Latin cla.s.s. Altogether, as Judith rolled over on to her elbows and found the place in her book, she was feeling happy and a bit too complacent. Only a page or two had been turned when a shadow blotted out the flickering tracings of the beech leaves, and a surprised voice said--
”Hullo, aren't you Judith Benson of South?”
”Yes,” said Judith, sitting up and smiling politely, unconsciously ready for a little more praise: she knew that this was Catherine's friend, Patricia Caldwell, another South House prefect.
”Well, then, why aren't you playing basket-ball?”
”Because I don't want to play,” said Judith calmly; ”I prefer tennis.”
Patricia almost gasped; this from a new girl--”She didn't want to!”
”Every girl is expected to join in the first practice matches so we can pick our players for South,” she said pleasantly but firmly. ”Weren't you at the Athletic Union meeting on Wednesday? I suppose you didn't understand. However, you can join in the second half.”
Patricia was Senior basket-ball captain and secretary of the Athletic Union, and basket-ball was to her at present the most important thing in the School. Judith felt rebellious, but made no reply. She watched Patricia's retreating figure and wondered whether she dare skip the practice.
Nancy, who had come to look for her, was questioned.
”Skip it? You had better not!” she exclaimed in horrified tones.
”But it isn't on my time-table,” objected Judith. ”Mayn't I do as I please in spare time?”
”Why, but Patricia said you must,” said Nancy.
Nancy, brought up in the traditions of York Hill, felt that it was almost sacrilegious to question the authority of a senior prefect.
Judith was aggrieved and a bit defiant. She wanted to finish her story.
It was extremely pleasant out under the beech trees. She didn't want to get up and dash about getting all hot and untidy, and making all kinds of mistakes in a silly old game that did n.o.body any good as far as she could see. Anyhow, her afternoon was spoiled now, and she began to wish that basket-ball had never been invented. The very idea of action grew more and more distasteful, but at the sound of the three o'clock bell she got up very reluctantly and crossed over to the basket-ball court.
Fortunately she was dressed ready for the game, since at four o'clock she was due at a gymnasium cla.s.s.
Esther Harriman, who was umpiring, gave her a red scarf to tie on her arm and briefly explained where she was to play and what she was to do.
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