Tom and Some Other Girls Part 9

In the present instance a wet Sat.u.r.day afternoon afforded a good opportunity for the desired questioning. The Hurst girls did not stay indoors for an ordinary drizzle, but this was a downpour of so hopeless a character that even the most enthusiastic athletes felt that the house-parlour was preferable to the soaking, wind-swept grounds. They gathered together, stoked up the fire, and prepared to spend the two hours' leisure as fancy should dictate, some girls reading, some sewing, and some making themselves as comfortable as circ.u.mstances would permit, and doing nothing at all with every appearance of enjoyment.

"If we had only some chestnuts," said one of the lazy ones, "how happy we might be! I have a wild craving for chestnuts. It came over me suddenly just now, sitting looking at that fire."

"I think," said Irene Grey solemnly, "it's very sad, but I do think a school like this makes one horribly greedy. You get so tired of the food, and have such a longing for something that _isn't_ wholesome. I a.s.sure you, my dears, there have been occasions when the centre table has had beef, while we have had mutton, when I could have wept--simply wept! I should like to order a meal regardless of everything but what I like--lobster mayonnaise, and salmon, and veal cutlets, and ice pudding, and strawberries and cream, and fizzy lemonade. That would be something like a dinner--better than old joints and milk puddings!"

The girls groaned in sympathy, and Rhoda took advantage of their absorption to cross to Tom's desk and consult her quietly on the knotty points. The solutions were remarkably simple--when you knew them!--and Tom delivered herself solemnly on the subject.

"You don't think, my dear; you don't reflect. Your brain would help you out, but you don't give it a chance. It's what I am always saying to this room--it's not cram you need, it's intelligence! Use your reason!

Cultivate your faculties! Now, then, I'll tell you what I'll do!"--she raised her voice suddenly, and swung round in her seat. "I'll give you girls an examination myself. You need some practice before the real business begins, and it will be just the thing for this wet afternoon.

Get out your books and pencils and I'll dictate the questions. It's to be a `General Intelligence' paper, and the examiner's instructions are-- use your wits! They will not be the ordinary blunt, straightforward questions manufactured by the masculine mind, and intended mainly for the coa.r.s.e, masculine ability, but full of depth and subtlety, so that they will require careful consideration. If you go scribbling down your answers before you have read the questions, you'll be sorry, that's all; but don't say you were not warned. Now, then, are you ready? ... We will begin our studies to-day, young ladies, with a problem in calculation!" She deepened her voice into such an accurate imitation of the Arithmetical Mistress as filled her listeners with delight.

"Attention to the board!--If a room were 20 feet long, 13 feet broad, 11 feet high, and 17 feet square, how much Liberty wall-paper 27 inches wide would be required to paper it, allowing 5 feet square for the fireplace and seven by three for the door?"

The girls wrote down the question, not, however, without some murmurs of protest.

"If there is one kind of sum I hate more than another, it's these horrid old wall-papers!" declared Bertha Stacey. "I shall never be a paper- hanger, so I don't see why I should worry my head. I don't call _this_ General Intelligence."

"I expect we shall have a taste of most subjects; but really, Tom, really now--the room could not be 17 feet square if your other measurements were right!" argued Irene, who knew arithmetic to be her strong point, and was not sorry to impress the fact on her companions.

"You have made a mistake."

She expected the examiner to be discomfited, but Tom fixed her with a glittering eye, and demanded if perchance she had _seen_ the room in question, since she was so positive.

"No, of course not, but then-- You know quite well--"

"Well, I _have_, so perhaps you will allow me to know better. Go on, young ladies, and the next one who dares to raise any objections gets ten bad marks to begin her list. I must have perfect submission. Five minutes allowed for working!"

The time proved all too short for some of the workers, for the less expert they were the more elaborate became their calculations, until page after page was filled with straggling figures. Thomasina made a round of inspection, frowning over each book in turn, protesting, scolding, marking the result with a big black cross. According to her verdict everyone was wrong, although five girls had arrived at the same result; and Irene obstinately disputed the decision.

"I _know_ it is right! Work it for yourself, and see. It's a simple enough sum, and any one could tell--"

"That's apparently just what they can't do! I don't deny that you may be correct in the broad, vulgar sense, but that is not enough for me. I expect you to grasp the inner meaning. Now the _real_ answer to this question is that there can be no answer! To a perceptive mind it would be impossible to reply without further information. It entirely depends on how the paper is cut out, and the amount of waste incurred in matching the pattern!"

The girls shrieked aloud in mingled protest and delight. It was too bad; it was ripping, it was mean; it was killing; they all spoke together and at the pitch of their voices, and alternately abused and applauded until they were tired. The _denouement_ had taken them by surprise, though in truth they knew their Head too well to have taken the examination seriously. When Tom played schoolmistress there was bound to be a joke in ambush, and they settled down to question number two with minds alert for a trap.

"We will now, young ladies, take an excursion into the realms of Literature, and test your insight into human nature. I will ask you, if you please, to compare the respective characters of Alfred the Great and Miss Charlotte Yonge--`Jo March' and Joseph Chamberlain--four great, and, it will be obvious to all, strongly-defined personalities. I shall be interested to hear your distinctions!"

It appeared, however, as if there would be little to interest, for most of the girls stared blankly into s.p.a.ce, as if powerless to tackle such a subject. Rhoda was one of the few exceptions, and scribbled unceasingly with a complacent sense of being on her own ground until the limit of time was reached. Tom had evidently noticed her diligence, for she called out a peremptory, "Rhoda, read aloud your answer!" which was flattering, if at the same time slightly alarming.

"Ahem--er--er--in the historical character of Alfred the Great we find combined the characteristics of courage and simplicity. He waged a long and unequal fight, and was equally inspired by failures or success.

"In the person of Miss Charlotte Yonge we discover the same virtues, but in a softer and more feminine mould. Her heroes are for the most part refined and cultivated young men, actuated by the highest motives--"

"Stop! Stop!" screamed Thomasina desperately. "For pity sake spare us the rest. Such deadly propriety I never encountered! It reminds me of the Fairchild family at their very worst. If _that's_ the sort of thing you are going to write, Rhoda, I pity the poor examiners. And what do you mean by Alfred fighting? He was a most peaceful creature, so far as I have heard!"

"Thomasina! the war with the Danes--all those years! You must remember!"

"I don't remember a thing about it. How could a man fight the Danes living in a peaceful retreat in the Isle of Wight, as Tennyson did for--?"

Tennyson! Tennyson! Who spoke of Tennyson? Oh! it was too bad; too mean! How on earth could anyone be expected to guess that Tom had meant Tennyson, when she had expressly said Alfred the Great? Rhoda protested loudly, and the other girls backed her up; but Tom was obdurate.

"And isn't Tennyson known as `Alfred the Great' as well as the other crittur? It is just another example of want of intelligence! You read the words, and never trouble about the connection. Who in their sane senses would ask you to compare a warrior king with old Miss Yonge? A little reflection would have saved you from the pitfall into which you have all fallen headlong. Five bad marks each! Now, then, for the next two. What have you got to say about the two Joes?"

Very little apparently. No one had tackled the comparison in Rhoda's grandiose fas.h.i.+on, but a few pithy sentences were to be found scribbled on the sides of exercise books. "Jo March was very clever, and my father says Mr Chamberlain is, too!" from one dutiful pupil. "Jo March was a darling, and Chamberlain is not," from another of Radical principles. "Both wore eye-gla.s.ses, and wrote things for magazines,"

and other such exhaustive criticisms.

"You are _all_ plucked in Literature," announced Thomasina, solemnly, "and I am deeply pained by the exhibition! I will give you one more chance in Arithmetic before going on to the higher branches, because, as you are aware, this is a most vital and important subject. Write down, please: A and B each inherited thirty thousand pounds. A invested his capital in gold-mine shares to bring in eighteen per cent, interest. B put his money into the Post Office Savings Bank, and received two and a half per cent. State to three places in decimals the respective wealth of each at the expiration of twenty-seven years!"

"Er--with what deduction for current expenses?" queried Irene, with an air. She had been snubbed once, but was not in the least subdued.

"What were their current expenses?"

"There were none!"

"Thomasina, what bos.h.!.+ There _must_ have been. They couldn't live on nothing."

"Well, they did, then. Since you are so particular, I may tell you that they were in prison! They had their wants supplied by their native land."

"I'm not going to do sums about convicts! My mother wouldn't like it,"

said Dorothy, shutting up her book with a bang. She leaned forward, and whispered in Rhoda's ear, "Don't bother; it's only another joke. What's the use of worrying for nothing?"

"It's practice," said Rhoda, and away went her pencil, scribbling, calculating, piling up row upon row of figures. To her joy the answer came out the same as Irene's, which surely must prove it right; yet, as Dorothy had prophesied, Tom was once more sweeping in denunciation, "Wrong! Wrong! All wrong! The gold-mine failed, and left A a pauper, while B lived happily ever after. You are old enough to know that gold- mines that pay eighteen per cent, invariably _do_ fail and ruin their shareholders; or if you don't, you may be thankful to me for telling you. I must say, young ladies, you are coming exceedingly poorly through my test. I cannot congratulate you on your insight. I doubt whether it is any use examining you any further."

"Oh, yes, let us have the higher branches, Tom! Do let us have the higher branches! Who knows? Perhaps we may distinguish ourselves at last. Give us another chance!" pleaded the girls, mockingly; and, thus challenged, Tom could not but consent. She tackled Zoology, and giving the three divisions of Plantigrada, Pinnigrada, and Digitigrada, added a list of animals to be cla.s.sified accordingly. When it is said that the list included such widely diverging creatures as "A camel-leopard, a duck-billed platypus, Thomasina Bolderston, and Spring-heeled Jack," it can be imagined with what zest the pupils began their replies.

Tom professed to be mortified beyond endurance to find her fairy tread unanimously cla.s.sed under the first heading, and begged the Blues to take notice that if any girl pined to call her "splay-footed" to her face she might do so, and take the consequences! No one accepted the challenge, however; so she proceeded to Latin, and, with much jingling of keys, gave out a sentence for translation:--

"Aequam memento rebus in arduis servare mentem." The girls smiled at this, confident of their powers. The students at Hurst prided themselves on their Latin, and could have stood a much severer test without wavering. The seniors did not trouble to write their answers, but waited complacently until the time came when they should have an opportunity of airing their proficiency. It never came, however, for Tom chose to disappoint expectations by reading aloud her own translation from her position in front of the fire.

"Memento--remember; mentem--and mind; servare--to hold up; aequam--your mare; in rebus arduis--going up hill. That translation, young ladies, was given by an undergraduate in the University of Oxford. He afterwards rowed stroke in the 'Varsity boat, and was the best billiard player of his year, so it would ill become us to dispute his conclusions. You will observe the valuable moral lessons inculcated in the words, and, I trust, take them to heart--`Remember and mind--'"

A laugh sounded from the direction of the door, and there stood Miss Everett, looking round with mischievous eyes. Rhoda noted with relief that she looked brighter than for days past, as if some good news had arrived from the home about which she was so anxious.

"This sounds improving," she cried, merrily. "Thomasina holding a Latin cla.s.s! I am glad you have found such an exemplary way of pa.s.sing the afternoon. I am afraid you must stop, however, as the gong will ring in five minutes, and meantime I must break up the cla.s.s. I want,"--her eye roved enquiringly round the room--"I want Rhoda!"

"Certainly, Miss Everett. Anything to oblige you. Rhoda, my love, you have my permission to retire," drawled Thomasina, wagging her head in languid a.s.sent, and Rhoda left the room in no little wonder as to the reason of the summons.

Arrived in the corridor, Miss Everett laid both hands on the girl's shoulders, and asked a quick, laughing question:--

"What about that hamper?"

"Hamper?" echoed Rhoda. "Hamper?" Her air of bewilderment was so unaffectedly genuine that the other's expression became in turn doubtful and uncertain.

"Yes, yes, the hamper! The hamper of good things that has just arrived for my brother. I thought you--"

"I know nothing about it; truly I don't! I wish I did, but--"

"But, my dear girl, it came from your home. There was a game label upon it, with your father's name in print--`From Henry Chester, Erley Chase.'

There cannot be two Henry Chesters living at houses of the same name."

"Ah!" exclaimed Rhoda, and her face lit up with pleasure. "It's mother!

Of course it's mother! It's just the sort of thing mother would do. I told her that your brother had been ill, and that you were anxious about him, and so she set to work to see how she could help. That's just like mother, she's the kindest dear! I believe she sits down in her armchair after breakfast every single morning, and plans out how many kind things she can do during the day."