The Youngest Girl in the School Part 21

She s.h.i.+fted the two delicacies dearest to her heart on to one dish, and handed it up to Jean, who stood poised uncertainly on the edge of the water-b.u.t.t.

'The jelly and the cranberry pie look rather nice,' said Angela, her own mouth watering for them, as she pa.s.sed them out to Jean.

'Can't you find something substantial?' urged Jean, when she had deposited the second load on the ground beside the water-b.u.t.t.

The two children in the larder looked round at the well-stocked shelves.

There was cold beef, to be sure, and a large tureen of mutton broth; but these did not strike them as being at all the sort of present that any one would like to have.

'Apple dumplings,' settled Angela, swiftly, as her eye fell on a large dish full of them; and they handed the apple dumplings after the other things, and then followed them by way of the water-b.u.t.t to the impatient Jean, who had already loaded herself with the jelly and the cranberry pie.

'Come along!' said Jean. 'If we're not quick, we shall be late for tea.

Besides, we must get back to see Finny, and explain to her what we've done. She might be cross if she found it out for herself.'

'Are you sure she won't be cross anyhow?' asked Barbara, as she staggered along in her wake, carrying the dish that contained the plum-pudding and the jam tart.

'Not if we explain exactly why we did it,' said Angela, gasping for breath just behind her companions. She found the apple dumplings decidedly weighty.

'n.o.body,' said Jean, emphatically, 'could mind anything we chose to do in a cause like this. Besides, there wasn't time to ask leave first, was there? When people haven't had anything to eat for weeks, you can't keep them waiting for food while you ask _leave_, can you?'

The shortest cut to the nine-acre field was across the lawn at the side of the house, and then through the little gate in the shrubbery. It was much less secluded than the longer way by which they had come, but detection had to be risked, now that the time was so short. And even if they were caught, as Jean pointed out in a whisper, it would be worth while to suffer in such a n.o.ble cause; and as for the Hearnes, Finny would be sure to send them on the things as soon as she heard how many weeks they had been without food.

'But how can we suffer, if Finny isn't going to be cross about it?'

argued Barbara, becoming heated in the effort to keep the plum-pudding from rolling into the jam tart and sticking to it. 'You said----'

Her sentence was never finished, for just as they left the shadow of the house and were going to strike across the lawn, they heard the click of the little gate opposite, and two figures emerged suddenly from the shrubbery. There was still light enough to disclose that they were the Canon and Barbara's disenchanted beast, the Doctor.

Even then, the triumvirate might have escaped detection by slipping round to the back of the house again before they were seen; and Jean had the presence of mind to sound a retreat in an agonised whisper, and turned sharply round herself. But Barbara's effort to follow her example was too much for the uncertain balance of the plum-pudding. It chose that very moment to tumble into the jam tart, and the two slid together from the dish and rolled to the feet of the astonished Canon.

'Upon my word,' exclaimed the old gentleman, starting violently, 'Elizabeth's establishment is full of surprises!'

The triumvirate kept very close together at the edge of the gra.s.s lawn, and waited for the two gentlemen to approach. Very little of their enthusiasm remained to keep up their spirits, for the erratic behaviour of the plum-pudding made even the pursuit of good works seem foolish and unnecessary.

'What are you children doing here?' asked the Canon, and his voice distinctly took a note of disapproval. He did not know very much about girls, though his niece a.s.sured him they were not unlike little boys; but he was quite sure that it was not the right thing for plum-puddings to be rolling across the lawn at that time of day, and disapproval seemed to be demanded by the circ.u.mstance.

The effect on the three children of his mild attempt at severity was immediate. Babs was struck dumb by it; anything so dreadful as the anger of a Canon had never occurred to her as a possible result of feeding the poor, and she had to think it all over before she could say anything.

Angela put down the apple dumplings, the weight of which had become intolerable, and began to cry softly. Jean pulled herself together with a frantic effort, and clutched the dish she was holding so fiercely that the jelly on the summit of the cranberry pie s.h.i.+vered and shook.

'It was my fault,' she blurted out, looking steadfastly over the edge of the dish at the well-blacked boots of the Canon. 'I made them go out of bounds, and visit the poor, and--and climb into the larder window to fetch things for the woman who looked so hungry. They wouldn't have gone, if it hadn't been for me. I made them--it was my fault.'

'No, it wasn't; it was all our faults,' wept Angela, in a confused mumble.

Babs stepped forward and tried hard not to break down and cry too. 'Please don't rag Jean for it,' she begged. 'The boy was crying, and we all thought it was the opportunity come at last----'

'What opportunity?' asked the Canon, looking extremely puzzled.

'To--to do what you said in your sermon,--good works, and feeding the poor, and all that,' faltered Barbara. Somehow, when she expressed it that way, it seemed like putting the blame on the Canon, and she was sure it could not be right for a little girl to blame a Canon. Added to this, she was possessed with the dread that they had only made themselves look ridiculous after all; and she expected that they would all three be very heartily laughed at, as soon as the old gentleman began to understand their story. She was determined in her own mind that if the Doctor should join in the laugh against them, a certain fairy prince should be turned once more into a beast and banished for ever from her kingdom. She was bound to admit, however, that the Doctor, so far, had not shown the least interest in them or their story.

'But--but I quite fail to understand,' said the Canon, rather testily.

'Who was the boy you speak of, and what had you to do with him?'

'It was Bobby Hearne,' answered Jean, still staring down at his boots; 'and if you only knew how hungry they all looked when we got to the cottage----'

She was interrupted by the Doctor, who suddenly behaved in the most extraordinary manner. For the first time he appeared to be listening to what they were saying, and he sprang right in front of the Canon and grasped Jean by the shoulder.

'Do you mean to say you have been into the Hearnes' cottage?' he cried, shaking her in his impatience until the jelly and the cranberry pie ran some danger of following the example of the plum-pudding. 'Were you stupid enough to go right inside?'

'Yes!' answered the triumvirate, with one voice.

The Doctor took his hand away, and turned with a shrug of his shoulders to the Canon.

'The Hearne girl is down with scarlet fever,' he said in a suppressed tone.

CHAPTER XIII

IN 'QUORRANTEEN'

'MY DEAR DARLING DEAREST FATHER,--We are in quorranteen that's Jean Murray and Angela Wilkins and me becos we tried to feed the poor after the cannon's sermon and the poor had scarlet fever and now praps we shall have scarlet fever too and in case we do we've got to stop in quorranteen for eight days and it's an awful shame becourse it gives us such a little time to practis for the gym prize. The cannon is Finny's uncle and he's awfully nice though a little unreesonable Jean says and Jean knows bekause her father is a professor and he has ofered a prize for whoever is best at the gym display on the break up day. I mean the cannon and not Jean's father. Quorranteen is a little house built by itself in the garden and connected with the school by a covvered pa.s.sage that leads into the front hall because Jean says it's no use being in quorranteen unless you're quite sure no one can catch things off you so we are issolated. All the same we do free exercises every morning just to keep our mussels in good order for the gym compet.i.tion and I tell them fairy stories when their's nothing else to do and Angela says they're not bad only she likes reel stories best which is a great pitty becos I don't know any reel stories but still they put up with my kind of stories very well and Jean says I'm a funny kid. We have our dinner early so that we can go out in the garden while the other girls are having theirs so that no one can catch anything off us and we are alowed to go all over Finny's garden as well as the nine aker field and we are really in a very supperior possition Jean says. Sumtimes for a great treat one of the big girls is alowed to come and talk to us from the garden and we stand at the window and shout down to her because you can't catch things off people that way Jean says and the other two nearly always vote for Margaret that's the head girl who is adorrable and divvine Jean says but I vote for Ruth who is a brick. The worst of being in quorranteen is that I have learnt the true charracter of the doctor and Kit always said he was a beast but I didn't think he was a beast but now I think he must be rather a beast because he is so horrid and unsimpathetick he always behaves as if we were very naughty and wicked for wanting to feed the poor and giving such a lot of trubble insted of understanding that it was all the cannon's fault for preaching that sermon which meant something quite diferent and how were we to know that the poor had scarlet fever? I think we were rather silly and it was our silly silliness that I minded most but the doctor doesn't seem to think that and he looks at our tungs and he says what's that? to every paper bag he sees about in the quorranteen which is only hardbake or chocalate from the big girls. Jean says he is much nicer to me than to Angela or her but I haven't noticed any diference myself and I don't want him to be nice to me if he isn't nice to them it isn't fair or above bord is it father? Anuther bother is that Finny hasn't said a word to us yet about feeding the poor and giving such a lot of trubble and I think she's very cross and is saving up for an enormous skolding but Jean says no it's Finny's way to give us time to think it over before she says anything and it's just dissipline Jean says. Besides, she can't be very cross or else she wouldn't have gone on feeding the poor I mean the Hearnes ever since we came into the quorranteen which is what she's been doing because she told us so and they haven't had to go into the workhouse after all.'

Barbara had scribbled so far uninterrupted, but when she picked up her third sheet of exercise paper and began to cover that too, the patience of her companions became exhausted.

'I say,' said Jean, yawning, 'I wish you'd stop writing and talk; I never knew any one so fond of writing as you are, Babe.'

Quarantine, after nearly a week of it, was beginning to lose its novelty, and all the paper bags that the sure aim of the head girl managed to deposit in their prison did not make up for the many hours of her society that they were unable to enjoy. Even the arithmetic lessons of Miss Tomlinson, and the plain-work evenings conducted by 'Smithy,' would not have seemed nearly so unattractive now as they did a week ago.

'All right,' said Babs, putting down her blue pencil; 'I don't mind stopping, but I thought Angela didn't want to talk.'

Jean glanced round at Angela, and Angela immediately put her hand to her head and sighed heavily. She had been doing this for some minutes without making any effect upon Barbara, although Barbara had been the first to notice that there was something unusual in her behaviour. That was so like Babs! She was always the first to notice anything, but she had such an unsatisfactory way of pa.s.sing it over, whatever it was, that it was no advantage to anybody unless some one else noticed it too.

'Hullo!' said Jean, staring; 'what's the matter, Angela?'

'I've got a splitting headache,' murmured Angela, half closing her eyes.

'Anything else?' asked Jean, becoming interested.

'My throat is rather sore, I think, and--and I'm sure I'm feverish,'

answered Angela, faintly; and she s.h.i.+vered to show how feverish she was.

'Oh,' said Barbara, opening her eyes, 'that's how Dr. Hurst said it began; and then Finny dragged him away, and we didn't hear any more.'

'_Don't_ say anything so dreadful,' murmured Angela, complacently. 'What shall I do if I can't go in for the compet.i.tion?'

'Besides, you might have it very badly and die,' said Jean, consolingly.

'Yes, you might. We knew a boy on the opposite side of the square, and _he_ died,' remarked Babs. 'Only, I'm not sure if it was scarlet fever.

His sister used to come and tell us about it, and she said he had a kettle with a long spout in his room, all day long, and it puffed out smoke at him, and made such a funny gurgling sound that she used to be afraid to pa.s.s his door after dark. Perhaps it wasn't scarlet fever,' she added, out of consideration for Angela, 'but he did die.'