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"Where are you going?" asked Maisie drowsily, but receiving no reply, she did not even trouble to open her eyes.
Once outside the door, Flossie lighted her candle. She was determined, in spite of Vivian's warning, to play a trick upon Evelyn.
"She needs teasing out of such rubbish," she said to herself. "Vivian Holmes always makes an absurd fuss of her--quite spoils her, in fact. I think the best way to cure people is to laugh at them."
Creeping softly downstairs, she switched off the electric light at the end of the lower landing, and, shading her candle with her hand, pa.s.sed along in the darkness to No. 4. Without pausing a moment she entered, holding up one arm in a dramatic att.i.tude, and making her eyes glare wildly from her whitened face. The effect was beyond all that she had antic.i.p.ated. Such a scream of agonized fear came from the bed in the corner that, alarmed at what she had done, Flossie turned and fled. As she ran through the door she realized that somebody was hastening along the dark pa.s.sage, and, afraid of being discovered, she turned suddenly and rushed up the short flight of steps that led to Honor's bedroom, blowing out her candle as she went. She crouched for a few moments outside the door of No. 8, then, hearing no footsteps pursuing her, she ventured to steal down again and make a dash for the stairs and the upper landing, where she whisked into No. 13 with all possible speed.
"It was a narrow shave!" she said to herself. "If that was Vivian, and she had caught me, I expect she'd have made herself uncommonly disagreeable."
In the meantime, Vivian had returned to the recreation room, and told the story of Evelyn's groundless fears to the elder girls a.s.sembled there.
"A shock of this kind is extremely bad for Evie," said Meta. "She had a nervous fever four years ago, and has been so fragile and highly-strung ever since. She was sent to Chessington because we hoped the bracing air might do her good. I remember she used to have night terrors when she was a wee child, but we thought she had quite got over them."
"She looks very white and delicate," said Vivian. "She's all eyes. If she were my sister, I should like to see her less 'nervy'."
"Perhaps I had better run upstairs to her," said Meta, rather anxiously. "Now I think of it, I remember she always seems most relieved when May and Trissie and I make our appearance at nine-thirty."
Meta found the landing in total darkness, a most unusual occurrence, as the electric light was always left on there. She felt her way along by the wall, and as she did so she was aware of somebody coming towards her from the opposite end of the long corridor. Whoever it was carried a light in her hand, so small as to make only a faint glimmer, but enough to allow Meta to perceive that she turned into No. 4. The next moment a cry of frantic fear issued from the room. Meta hurried forward, her heart throbbing wildly, while the figure, rus.h.i.+ng from the room, and showing in its hasty flight a white-veiled head, darted up the steps to No. 8, and disappeared, light and all.
It did not take Meta more than three seconds to reach her sister's bedside. Strangled sounds issued from under the clothes, where Evelyn lay cowering in mortal terror; and again, as Meta placed her hand on the bed, came that convulsive, half-stifled cry.
"Evie! Evie dear! Don't you know me?" exclaimed Meta.
Realizing at last who stood near, Evelyn sat up and flung her arms round her sister. She was in a most agitated, hysterical condition, trembling and quivering with sobs. Meta soothed her as well as she could, and requested Vivian, who had followed to see that all was right, to switch on the bedroom light, and also the one in the pa.s.sage.
"Someone must have intentionally turned it off," she said, "on purpose to play this trick."
"I know I'm silly!" choked Evelyn, more rea.s.sured now that the room was no longer in darkness, "but I can't help it. I really thought it was a ghost."
"Who is responsible for this?" asked Vivian indignantly.
"Honor Fitzgerald," replied Meta, without hesitation.
"Are you sure?"
"Whoever it was ran back into No. 8. Janie Henderson would never dream of doing such a thing, so it must have been Honor."
"She certainly was pretending to be a ghost upstairs," said Vivian. "I shall go and tell her my opinion of her," and she departed with a very grim expression on her face.
Janie and Honor were half-asleep when Vivian, like an avenging angel, entered No. 8.
"Look here, Honor Fitzgerald!" she began, "if you try any more of those senseless practical jokes, I shall report you to Miss Maitland. I'm monitress here, and I don't intend to have this kind of thing going on at St. Chad's."
"What's the matter?" asked Honor, rubbing her eyes.
"Matter, indeed! You know as well as I do. It was a cruel, mean trick to play upon a nervous, delicate girl like Evie Fletcher."
Honor was considerably astonished. She, of course, knew nothing of Flossie's escapade, and imagined that the monitress must be referring to the few words she had said on the upper landing.
"Why, Evie didn't seem to mind all that much!" she retorted.
"You've frightened her most seriously, and I consider it so dangerous that I'd rather you were expelled from the school than that it should happen again. I don't want to get you into trouble at head-quarters if I can help it, so I'll say nothing if you'll promise me faithfully that this is absolutely the last time you'll ever act ghost."
"Of course I'll promise. I didn't intend to upset Evie. I think both you and she are making a great fuss about nothing," replied Honor, lying down once more.
"I'm disgusted with you, Honor Fitzgerald! If you can't realize the mischief your thoughtlessness has done, you might at least have the grace to be sorry for it! To amuse yourself by playing on the fears of a timid girl, younger than you, is the work of a coward--yes, a coward!
That's what I consider you!" and Vivian turned away, full of righteous wrath, and wondering whether she had adequately fulfilled her monitorial duty, or whether she ought to have said even more.
CHAPTER IX
Diamond cut Diamond
Honor was both amazed and indignant at Vivian's stern rebuke. She appealed to Janie in self-justification.
"I don't understand it," she declared. "I only screwed up my face, and said ghosts glided. I stopped at once when Vivian asked me. How could Evelyn have been so fearfully frightened just at that?"
"I can't imagine," said Janie, "except that she's such an extremely nervous girl."
"It's too bad to blame me on that account."
"Vivian is generally very severe."
"She's always down on me! I'm continually in hot water, and half the time I don't know exactly why."
It was not until the next afternoon that Honor learnt of the practical joke that had been practised upon her schoolfellow. As she was was.h.i.+ng her hands in the dressing-room she chanced to overhear a few remarks between two or three girls who were discussing the affair, and at once questioned them about it.
"Of course Meta knew it was you, Honor!" said Ruth Latimer, rather reproachfully.
"Why of course?" asked Honor.
"Because it couldn't be anyone else. You're always playing tricks upon someone."
"It's a case of 'give a dog a bad name', then. I'm innocent for once."
"But the ghost ran up the steps to No. 8!"
"That's only 'circ.u.mstantial evidence'. I certainly didn't do it. Janie can tell you that I never left the bedroom."
"Yes, I could take my oath in a law court, as a reliable witness,"
vouched Janie.
"Then who was it?"
Honor shook her head.