Part 6 (1/2)
Sally May was not in the least daunted, whatever the others might feel.
”I'll tell you,” she said; ”it's some one who wanted to come to the party doing it for a joke”--but that brought little comfort. The party was a secret, and who would know where to find them? Forebodings as to to-morrow's punishment filled their minds.
Sally May, however, was accustomed to punishments. ”Sufficient unto the day” was evidently her motto. ”Come on, let's tell ghost stories,” she said, and the others obediently seated themselves on the floor again.
Sally May produced a large box of chocolates which they were keeping for another time, and began a long tale of a ghost who followed, and followed, and followed a man up and down, up and down, the corridors of an old manor house. The hero could hear the ghost's footsteps and its blood-curdling laugh, but he was afraid to turn his head, and when he did--very, very, very, slowly--the muscles of seven little necks stiffened obedient to Sally May's suggestion--he saw a terrible--but here Rosamond broke in with an hysterical cry, ”Please, Sally May, I can't bear any more”--and Sally May's spell was broken.
Indeed they all began to be frankly miserable, for they were chilly by this time, and even schoolgirls' stomachs are susceptible to unlimited cake and candy. Nancy fell asleep and leaned on Judith, making her most uncomfortable. Sally May confessed quite openly to a feeling of sickness, and in a steady whisper poured into Judith's ear the ghastly details of how ill she had been at Knowlton after a lobster supper. The night wore on. Most of them finally went to sleep in uncomfortable att.i.tudes, but about four o'clock in the morning, Judith, who was much too unhappy and too uncomfortable to sleep, got up stiffly from the floor and walking about the room, tried the door once more. To her huge astonishment and joy it opened! Catherine had come up a couple of hours before, but the striking of the big clock in the hall had covered the very slight noise of the turning of the lock.
”It was open all the time,” protested several unhappy voices.
”You didn't try it properly.”
”We did,” said other cross voices, and sulkily and stiffly they creaked down the hall to their longed-for beds.
The rising bell rang in about an hour's time; at least so it seemed to eight very sleepy girls. Pancakes and maple syrup, the favourite York Hill breakfast, brought them no solace; indeed, to the surprise of their friends, they refused them. Sally May, who demanded much sympathy, reported to the nurse after breakfast.
”I don't feel well, Miss Anderson, I don't really. I'm tired all over. I think if I had a little rest--” she added plaintively.
”Put out your tongue,” said Miss Anderson cruelly. ”Hm, blowing up for a bilious attack. Oh, yes, you can go to morning lessons, but report at the Infirmary this evening for a dose of calomel.”
Poor Sally May! The thought of the horrid dose haunted her all day, and when evening came her punishment was indeed complete.
Judith, Nancy, and Josephine had separately and independently resolved by hook or by crook to escape the hated morning walk or ”crocodile.” A walk after their wakeful night seemed simply impossible and the weather was too bad for games. Many excuses were thought of and rejected, but eventually they presented themselves to the mistress-in-charge, a certain zealous Miss Martin.
”Too tired to go out, Nancy? Very well, early bed, of course”--and she chalked up Nancy's name with ”Bed at eight-thirty.” Judith and Josephine were treated in like manner; not that they minded very much, for bed at eight-thirty had a soothing sound. But Madam Retribution was not done with them yet.
For a week or more they had been expecting an invitation from Catherine to supper in her room. It was a regular first-term inst.i.tution that a prefect should entertain her set of cubicles, and rumours of other suppers had already reached the ears of the crew of the ”Jolly Susan.”
Judith, especially, had been looking forward to this treat. An evening in Catherine's room, what a delight!
At evening prayers it was announced that to-night's lecturer would not be able to come, and promptly afterwards Catherine gave the longed-for invitation. ”Supper in my room at eight-thirty,” she whispered to each of the five; ”we'll have a jolly time.” Her surprise and astonishment at their stammered refusals were great.
”Slacking the walk?” she said coldly. ”Of course, then, you can't have a treat”--and she wasted no sympathy on them. Judith could have wept with vexation and disappointment.
At half-past eight the crew of the ”Jolly Susan” crept sadly into bed and listened to the laughter of the prefects gathered in Catherine's room, devouring _their_ supper. Sally May had gone to the Infirmary, but one vow was registered by the other chastened souls in the ”Jolly Susan”--”No more midnight suppers!”
CHAPTER VI
PUTTING IT THROUGH
THE last two weeks had been so full of other things that lessons and their preparation had taken a somewhat secondary place in the thoughts of Form Five, and, in consequence, they had merited and received many rebukes.
Sally May had spent two hours of a precious Sat.u.r.day afternoon learning poetry, for she had failed miserably in the last literature test; Josephine had been her companion in disgrace, and had even had to spend a precious Friday evening ”in durance vile” because of returned lessons.
Judith's pride had been badly hurt by Miss Hilton's comment written in her geometry exercise book, ”Very poor work, indeed, untidy and careless,” and, worse still, when the lists were posted for the mid-term Latin examination, Judith's name had been halfway down with fifty-six marks to her credit. At Miss Graham's she had always headed the list.
Just for a moment she almost thought that there must be some mistake, and then she realized that Five A standards were high and first-cla.s.s standing meant first-cla.s.s work.
Literature and history were Judith's strong subjects, and on the morning when she saw her Latin marks she made a mighty resolve to head the list in at least one of these. It wouldn't be easy. Joyce Hewson and Phyllis Lovell had been steadily piling up marks all term, and the whole form was watching their tussle for first place. Christmas reports and cla.s.s standing for the half-year were made on cla.s.s work and on the examinations at the end of the term.