The Leader of the Lower School Part 30

The United Guild Festival

MR. GORDON had been most seriously concerned at the news of Gipsy's unauthorized flight, and considering the part which his daughter Meg had played in helping her to escape, he held himself to be morally responsible for the consequences of so foolish a step, and had started at once for Liverpool in search of the truant. Until very late at night he had used all efforts to trace her, but without success; then as soon as possible in the morning, acting on the knowledge of Gipsy's plans which Meg had supplied, he had telephoned to every steams.h.i.+p company in the city that ran vessels to South Africa, giving a description of the girl, and asking, if she called at the office, that she might be detained until he could arrive and claim her. By a fortunate chance he rang up the Tower Line at the very time when Gipsy had presented herself to enquire for work, so, jumping into a taxicab, he had driven immediately from his hotel to their offices.

On the whole, Gipsy was so relieved to see a friend who was prepared to take charge of her that she submitted quite peaceably to be escorted back to Greyfield. The clerk's hilarity at her application for a stewardess-s.h.i.+p, and his a.s.surance that such posts were only given to middle-aged women, had upset her calculations, and remembering her forlorn condition of the previous night, she was glad not to risk a repet.i.tion of such a painful experience. Mr. Gordon had at first intended to take her home with him to The Gables, but on telephoning to his wife on his arrival at Greyfield station, he learnt about the missing letter which had been discovered in Daisy Scatcherd's coat pocket, and decided it would be better for her to go straight to Briarcroft.

The prospect of a letter from her father was a magnet more than sufficient to draw Gipsy back to school. All fear of Miss Poppleton's wrath faded away in the excitement of this wonderful news.

"And to think that if I'd gone to South Africa I should have missed it!"

she exclaimed.

Miss Poppleton received the prodigal with wonderful graciousness, and Miss Edith wept over her, upbraided her, and kissed her all at once.

"Gipsy, darling! How could you be so naughty? You might have known we were your best friends. I never slept all night for worrying about you; and I'm sure Miss Poppleton didn't either. To think that you should have run away from us! And your letter was there all the time, if we'd only known! It's locked up safely in my desk, all ready for you."

"Give it me now, please!" pleaded Gipsy.

Although Gipsy's return to Briarcroft had been a very desirable conclusion to the episode of her running away, there were several matters left which remained in a far from satisfactory condition. In the first place, though her father's letter had relieved all anxiety about her school fees and general expenses, and removed her from her former most unpleasant position, it did not give any clue to his present whereabouts. Beyond the brief information that he was going to the sources of a tributary of the Zambesi, she knew nothing. There was no address given to which she might write, or any definite date fixed for his return to civilization. The London bankers, with whom Miss Poppleton at once communicated, had no further knowledge. He seemed to have disappeared into the unexplored wilds of Central Africa, and to have left no trace. In view of the dangers to which a pioneering party, such as he had joined, would be exposed from wild beasts, hostile natives, lack of food and water, or the hards.h.i.+ps of travelling in the interior of the continent, there was cause for considerable uneasiness on his behalf. It seemed high time that some news was received of the expedition. It was now seven months from the date of Mr. Latimer's letter, and he had apparently expected to return in three or four.

Poor Gipsy conjured up all kinds of fears for her father's safety. She imagined him ill in some inaccessible spot, without medical aid, or taken prisoner by a native chief, or--more terrible still--that he had succ.u.mbed to the dangers and difficulties of the journey. She carried his letter about as her greatest treasure, and kissed it a dozen times a day; but she felt that, while appreciating its possession, she found it a very unsatisfactory subst.i.tute for the fuller details she coveted of his present welfare.

Her second trouble was the fact that she was still supposed to be guilty of that surrept.i.tious outing in the evening, and to have flatly told falsehoods to screen herself. Gipsy had many faults, but she was strictly truthful, and this imputation against her honour rankled sorely. Miss Poppleton had not pressed the matter, probably thinking it a secondary consideration to her greater crime of running away. In her relief at receiving a handsome cheque from Mr. Latimer's bankers, the Princ.i.p.al had decided to forgive Gipsy's past indiscretions, and to start afresh on a different basis. By a little rearrangement she managed to find room for Gipsy again in her old dormitory, and the manifold odd duties which had been a.s.signed to her were entirely removed. Once back in her favourite No. 3, with a new set of summer clothes and an ample supply of pocket-money, Gipsy felt reinstated in her former position in school. With the utmost satisfaction she paid up her arrears of subscriptions to the Guild, and put straight several other little matters where she felt she owed a moral if not an actual debt.

"There's only one thing that makes me savage," she declared one evening to some of her own set who were a.s.sembled in the Juniors' room, "and that is that Poppie still believes I told those awful fibs about not going out that wet evening. On my honour I spoke the truth. Somebody else must have gone out in my waterproof."

"What does it matter, now it's all over?" asked Leonora. "Poppie's forgiven you."

"Why, it matters a great deal. I don't want to be forgiven for what I've never done. And I don't care to possess a reputation for telling fibs.

Whoever went out in my cloak ought to own up, and if she doesn't, she's a mean, detestable, contemptible sneak!"

"s.h.i.+elding herself at your expense!" added Hetty indignantly.

Leonora turned as crimson as the woolwork she was st.i.tching.

"I never thought of it in that way! It really never struck me!" she gasped. "I'm sure I've no wish to s.h.i.+eld myself at anybody's expense.

Why, if you want to know, it was I who went out in your waterproof and galoshes."

Leonora's announcement made the sensation it deserved.

"You! You!" cried the amazed girls.

"But why did you go?"

"How could you do such a thing?"

"Why didn't you tell?"

"I went for a very simple reason," replied Leonora coolly. "You know how fond I am of sweets, and what an abominably mean rule there is here about our not buying them. Well, I just couldn't stand doing without my chocolates, so I used to dodge out whenever I dared to that little shop in Mansfield Road, and buy some. On that particular wet evening I was in a fearful hurry to go before I began practising, so I rushed to the hall cupboard and seized on the first waterproof and hat and galoshes that came to hand. I didn't know they were Gipsy's."

"And yet you let her bear the blame!" exclaimed Dilys heatedly.

"I thought, as she hadn't really done it, she'd very soon clear herself.

She could have 'proved an alibi' directly, if the thing had been properly gone into. There were heaps of girls who could have witnessed for her. Even though she did crawl under the table and go out of the room, the times didn't fit in, as Poppie would have found directly, if she'd troubled to ask."

"That's true. Poppie was utterly prejudiced; she asked a few hasty questions, never noticed whether the stories agreed, and jumped to a conclusion," said Hetty.

"Then, when Gipsy came back, Poppie dropped the matter entirely,"

continued Leonora. "I thought she knew she'd made a mistake. I didn't see any use in getting myself into trouble if I could help it, so I held my tongue."

"And disgustingly mean of you, too!" exploded Lennie.

"You're the most extraordinary girl, Leonora! I never saw anybody like you!" commented Dilys.

"You'll tell Poppie now, won't you?" urged Hetty.

Leonora shrugged her shoulders.

"Of course I shall. She can do what she likes. I don't mind if she expels me! I'm sick of Briarcroft and its strict rules. I'd rather try another school, where they'd allow one to buy more sweets. I never much wanted to come here. I think I'll go and explain to Poppie now; she'll be in the study. If she expels me, I could just go home in time for next Thursday. Mother's giving a big garden party, and having some Russian dancers down from London. They're to give a performance on a platform on the lawn. I'm simply wild to see them!"

As Leonora walked calmly from the room, the girls broke into a universal "Well!" of astonished comment.

"She didn't even tell you she was sorry, Gipsy!" remarked Lennie.

"Never mind! As long as she sets me right with Poppie I don't care,"

returned Gipsy.

"She seems to want to be expelled," said Dilys.

"Poppie's pet won't be expelled, no fear!" laughed Hetty. "Catch Poppie parting with her millionairess! She's much too good an advertis.e.m.e.nt for the school."

"I think Poppie'll have somewhat to say on the subject, though!"

remarked Dilys.

Both Dilys and Hetty proved right. Leonora was not expelled, but Miss Poppleton gave her a severe lecture on the error of her ways, and a warning against any further transgression of Briarcroft rules. She returned to the Juniors' room in a very chastened frame of mind.

"Poppie was as hard as nails," she volunteered. "She won't let me go home on Thursday to the garden party, so I shan't see the Russian dancers. Isn't it a shame?"

"Well, in my opinion it about serves you right, Leonora Parker,"

retorted Dilys. "You've looked at the affair all along entirely from your own point of view. I don't believe you'd have told now if you hadn't wanted to go home. You've not begged Gipsy's pardon yet."

"Oh, never mind!" said Gipsy magnanimously. "What do I care, now it's all serene with Poppie? I've proved I don't tell fibs, anyhow. I like people to know I'm straight and square and above-board, and since that's put right, I vote we drop the subject."

"I shall have the picnic next week, even if I don't see the Russian dancers," murmured Leonora.

The suggestion of a united picnic for the whole of the Lower School, which had been unanimously carried at the Guild meeting, had been approved by Miss Poppleton, and the date fixed for a day early in July.

As it was the first outing in connection with the United Guild, the girls were anxious to celebrate the occasion with as much observance as possible. It had been decided to visit a castle about six miles away, and it was thought that the ruins would provide a picturesque setting for something in the nature of a grand ceremony.

"Like the Freemasons, you know," said Gipsy, "or any of those old 'wors.h.i.+pful companies' that meet and have big dinners and enjoy themselves."