The Little School-Mothers. Meade L. T.

The Little School-Mothers - Meade L. T.


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she added, “she did prove her point in that horrid encyclopaedia.”

      The little girls had now reached the paddock. Here was delicious shade and green grass, and the heat of the July sun was tempered by a lovely breeze. Harriet, whose cheeks were hot with annoyance, began to cool down. Jane watched her with eager eyes.

      “Harriet,” said Jane; “you don’t think for a minute that I love anyone as much as you?”

      “I hope you don’t, Janie,” said Harriet; “it would be awfully unkind of you. But now listen to me. We must do something to stop this.”

      “To stop what?” asked Jane.

      “That young ’un taking the lead in everything. It is too ridiculous. She hasn’t been more than a week in the school, and yet everything yields to her. She struts about with her head in the air and even talks to the girls of the sixth form, and isn’t a bit afraid of Sparkie or even of Devigny. The next thing we’ll find if this goes on is that Mrs Burton herself is corrected by her. I wish, I do wish, I wish beyond anything, I could get her proved in the wrong herself.”

      “Oh, Harriet!” exclaimed Jane.

      “Yes, I do,” said Harriet; “I don’t pretend otherwise; she has taken everything from me.”

      “Oh, what do you mean?” said Jane.

      “I had not much,” continued Harriet; “but yet I had one thing. I was at the head of my form; I was certain of the best prizes; I was considered the clever one. I was not vain of it, but I was glad. Now, I am the clever one no longer. She is at the head of the form. Although she has been such a short time in the school, she will get a prize at break-up; I know she will. It isn’t that she has ever been taught in the school way, but she knows such a lot. Oh, I do hate her, Janie! I wish – I wish she had not come!”

      “Poor Harriet!” said Jane.

      She felt immensely pleased herself at this confidence reposed in her. Hitherto Harriet, with her pale face, her lank hair, her tall young figure, had been very condescending to black-eyed, roly-poly Jane. She had kept Jane under, and had only condescended to listen to her now and then. It was delicious to be confided in; to have Harriet explain to Jane what she felt about things. After a time, Jane said softly: “Until Robina came, we were the only naughty girls in the school.”

      “Oh, we were not a bit naughty in reality,” said Harriet. “It pleased you to think it, Janie. When I told you that we were the naughty ones, you used to be as proud as Punch; but we were not really naughty as she could be naughty. I declare since she came I feel that I could do anything.”

      “Let us make her naughty,” said Jane, in a low tone.

      “Let us what?” asked Harriet, turning and facing her little companion.

      “I know!” said Jane after a pause. “I heard what they said when I was hiding under the holly bush. They said that she was sent to school because she was so noisy and wouldn’t obey anyone. Up to the present she has only been a little naughty; she has done the sort of things that people forgive. Let us make her do something that people don’t forgive: let’s make her awfully disobedient.”

      “I declare, Janie,” said Harriet, “you’re a much cleverer girl than I gave you credit for. That isn’t at all a bad idea. Of course it’s naughty of us to wish anything of the sort; but then she is too aggravating, and – and – if she takes my character for cleverness away, and keeps the head of the form, and wins my prize – I cannot stand it. Oh, she put me to shame just now before the others – I won’t tell you how, for it isn’t worth while; but she – she laughed as I went out of the room, and – the others laughed, too. I hate her! I don’t mind what I do to get her into trouble!”

      “We mustn’t do too much, we must be careful,” said Jane. “But if she is really very disobedient at home, why should she not be disobedient just once at school? You are clever enough to manage that, aren’t you, Harriet?”

      “And you are clever enough to help me,” answered Harriet. “Well, let’s say no more now; mum’s the word. They’re going to have tea on the lawn, and we may as well join the others. I shall not feel nearly so bad now, Janie, since you are my friend, and we are making up a little plot together. Let’s think very hard. Let’s put on our considering caps, and let’s meet again here this hour to-morrow.”

      “Oh, Harriet!” said Jane. “I am glad and I’m sorry. I’m a bit frightened, and yet my heart goes pit-a-pat with excitement. I do love you, Harriet. Oh dear, oh dear! I wonder if this is desperately wicked!”

      “I’ll give you a kiss if you will faithfully promise not to say one word of our conversation to another soul,” said Harriet.

      Her kisses were considered great favours by the hungry Jane, who now received solemnly a peck on her forehead from Harriet.

      “We’d best not be seen too much together,” said Harriet. “I will go round by the fish-pond to the lawn, and you can run into the house and come out that way.”

      There is no doubt whatever that these two girls felt a very extra spice of naughtiness in their hearts on that afternoon.

      Meanwhile, Robina was enjoying herself; she was the centre of a large circle of girls. She was very nicely dressed, to begin with; and she looked, if not pretty, yet exceedingly interesting; her face was so full of intelligence and her expression was so varying, that it was quite a delight to watch her when she talked. She had the merriest laugh, too, like a peal of bells, and she had a very good-natured way of drawing a neglected girl to her side, and putting her arm about her and making friends with her for the time being. In particular, she was fond of little children, and the small girls of the school clung round her, pressing up to her side, and begging to be allowed to sit on her knee and fondle her, as tiny girls will.

      The first form in the school at present only consisted of four little girls. There were Patty and Cissy Price – two wee sisters of seven and six years of age; and there was Curly Pate – as they called her – the youngest girl of all, who was not yet quite six; and there was little Annie, who was older than the others, but very small in stature and very delicate.

      Curly Pate was the baby of the school, and was somewhat spoiled in consequence. She was a perfect roly-poly creature, with fat arms and creasy, fat neck and little fat legs. Her face was perfectly round – as round as a ball, and she had blue eyes and a soft complexion, and fluffy, curly, baby hair all over her little head. Her hair was short and thick, and of that fine, fine quality which only very tiny children and babies possess.

      From the eldest to the next youngest girl in the school Curly Pate was the darling. Anyone would be proud to walk with her, to caress her, to submit to her whims; and Curly Pate, like all young queens, was exacting. She had her preferences. She liked Constance Amberley better than any of her own small companions. When Constance walked about the grounds with Curly Pate on her back – that young person pretending that she was riding her pony and desiring her “Gee-gee” to go faster, and pounding her on the head and shoulders in no inconsiderable degree – Constance, far from being pitied, was envied by everyone else in the school. But lo, and behold! when Robina appeared, that fickle young person – the school baby – changed her tactics. She walked straight up to Robina on the first day of her appearance in the playground and said:

      “I ’ike oo – new dirl!” and established herself on the spot, Robina’s ruler.

      Robina was elected to be the baby’s slave, and the others laughed and joked at Constance, and watched the baby with delight. The other little girls followed suit, as very small girls will.

      On this special afternoon Robina had the four small children in a circle round her. Curly Pate, it is true, occupied the place of honour on the young lady’s lap, but Patty and Cissie Price, and grave, pale little Annie were also close to the popular favourite.

      “Tell us a story, Robina,” asked Cissie Price.

      “Not now,” said Robina; “and you are not to pull me, babies, for it makes me too hot. Curly, sit still, you little imp! I’ll put you off my knee


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