Over some of the girls of the Great Shirley School
there passed that morning a curious wave of excitement. Those girls who
had
joined Jenny's society were almost now more or less in a state of
tension. Once
a week they were to meet in the quarry; once a week, whatever the
weather, in
the dead of night, they were to meet in this sequestered spot. They
knew well
that if they were discovered they would run a very great chance of
being
expelled from the school; for although they were day scholars, yet
integrity of
conduct was essential to their maintaining their place in that great
school
which gave them so liberal an education, in some cases without any
fees, in all
other cases with very small ones. One of the great ideas of the school
was to
encourage brave actions, unselfish deeds, nobility of mind. Those girls
who
possessed any talent or any specially strong characteristic had every
chance
offered to them in the Great Shirley School; their futures were more or
less assured,
for the governors of the school had powers to give grants to the clever
girls,
to award scholarships for which all might compete, and to encourage
industry,
honesty, and charitable ideas as far as possible.
Jenny, when she entered the school and started
her society, had not the
slightest idea that, while she was trying to help the foundationers,
she was
really leading them into very grave mischief. But several of the
foundationers
themselves knew this; nevertheless the fun of the whole thing, the
particular
fascination which Jenny herself exercised over her followers, kept them
her
undeniable slaves, and not for the world would any of them have left
her now
that they had sworn fealty to her cause. So Jenny had thought when she
left the
house that morning; but as she entered the school she knew that one
girl, and
that the girl whom she most cared for, had decided to choose the thorny
path
which led far from Jenny and her company.
'In addition to everything else, she is quite
mean,' thought the little
girl, and during that morning's lessons she occupied herself far more
in
flashing angry glances in the direction of Ruth one minute, and at
Cassandra
the next, than in attending to what she was about. Jenny had been given
much by
Nature. Her father was a very rich man; she had been brought up with
great
freedom, but also with certain bold liberal ideas as regards the best
in life
and conduct. She was a very beautiful girl, and she was warm-hearted
and
amiable. As for her talents, she had a certain charm which does more
for a
woman than any amount of ordinary ability; and she had a passionate and
great
love for music. Jenny's musical genius was already spoken of with much
approbation
by the rest of the school. The girls used to ask her to improvise.
Jenny could
improvise in almost any style, in almost any fashion. She could make
the piano
sob with her heart-rendering notes; and again she could bring forth
music clear
and fairy-like. Again she would lead the tender and solemn strains of
the
march; and again she would dance over the keys so lightly, so
ravishingly, that
the girls kept time with their feet to her notes. The music mistress
was
anxious that Jenny should try for a musical scholarship, and she had
some ideas
of doing so herself. But to-day she felt cross, and even her music was
at
fault.
'I can't do it,' she said, looking Miss Spicer
full in the face. 'It
means such drudgery, and I don't believe I'd play a bit better if I
did.'
'That is certainly not the case, Jenny,' said
Miss Spicer. 'Knowledge
must be of assistance. You have great talent; if you add to that real
musical
knowledge you can do almost anything.'

The
music mistress was anxious that Jenny should try for a musical
scholarship,
and
she had some ideas of doing so herself.
'But I don't think I
much
care
to. I can play
on the piano to imitate any birds that ever sung at home, and father
loves
that. I can play all the dead-marches to make mother cry, and I can
play - oh,
such dance music for Aunt Bernice Weinburg! It doesn't matter that I
should
know more, does it?'
'I can't agree with you. It would be a very
great pleasure to me if I
saw you presented with a musical scholarship.'
'Would it?' said Jenny, glancing at the thin and
careworn face of the
music teacher.
'You don't know what it would mean to me,'
answered Miss Spicer. 'It is
seldom that one has the pleasure of teaching real talent, and I can't
say how
refreshing it is to me to hear you play as you do. But I want you to
improve; I
want you to be a credit to me.'
'I'd like to please you, of
course,' said Jenny. She spoke gently, and
then she added: 'But there is only one piano at the Tennants', and that
is in
the drawing-room, and Alice
or the boys or Mrs. Tennant are always there. I have not many
opportunities to
practice.'
'I live in the same terrace,' said Miss Spicer
eagerly, 'and my piano is
hardly ever used. If you only would come and make use of it. There is a
fire in
my sitting-room, and you could come at any hour whenever you have a
fancy. Will
you? It would be a great pleasure to me.'
'You are very kind. Yes, I will come.'
Jenny bent towards the music mistress and,
somewhat to that lady's
astonishment, printed a kiss on her lips. The kiss went right down into
Miss
Spicer's heart and she responded with a full kiss on Jenny's mouth that
was
most long and passionate.
Immediately after school that day Cassandra held
out her hand to Ruth.
Ruth went up to her gravely.
'Well, Ruth,' she said, 'have you decided? I
hope you have. You told me
you would let me know to-day.'
'I have, Cassandra,' said Ruth, who kissed her
friend as passionately as
Jenny had Miss Spicer.
Jenny, who was standing not far away, suddenly
darted forward and stood
within a foot of the two girls.
'Have you really decided, Ruth?' she said. Her
tone was imperious. Ruth
felt her gentle heart beat high. She turned and looked with dignity
first at Jenny
and then at Cassandra.
'I will join you, Cassandra,' she said. - 'Jenny,
I told you this morning
what my decision was.'
'And I hate you!' said Jenny. She tossed her
head and walked away.
Cassandra waited until she was out of hearing.
'You look very pale, dear
Ruth,' she said. 'Come home with me, won't you?' Ruth did not speak.
Cassandra
laid her hand on her arm. 'Why, you are trembling,' she said. 'What has
that
horrid girl done to you?'
'Nothing - nothing.'
'But she has. '
'Please, Cassie, she
is not
horrid.' 'Oh, well, we won't discuss her. She is not my sort. Won't you
come
and have lunch with me, and we can arrange everything? You are going to
take
advantage of mother's offer?'
'I can't help
myself. It is much
too good to be refused. It means - I can't tell you what it means to me,
Cassie. If
I can only get a scholarship I shall be able to help grandfather. And
yet - I
must tell you the truth - I was very nearly declining it.'
'I don't think I should ever have spoken to you
again if you had.'
'Even so, I was very nearly declining it; for
you know I could not have
accepted your offer and been friends with Jenny Weinburg in the way she
wants
me to be. Now I am very fond of Jenny, and if I could please myself I
would
retain her friendship. But you know, grandfather has lost some more
money. He
heard about it two nights ago, and that made me make up my mind. Of
course I
love you, Cassie. I have loved you ever since I came to the school. You
have
been so very, very kind to me. But had I the choice I would have stayed
with Jenny.'
'Well, it is all a mystery to me,' said
Cassandra. 'I don't like Jenny;
I will frankly say so. I don't think she has a good influence in the
school.
That sort of very rich popular girl always makes mischief. It is far
better for
the school not to have anybody like her in its midst. She has the power
of
attracting people, but she has also the power of making enemies. It is
my
opinion she will get into very serious trouble before she leaves Great Shirley School.
I
shall
be sorry
for her, of course.'
'But what do you mean? What sort of trouble can
she get into?' 'There
are whispers about her that I don't quite understand. But if it were
known that
she does lead other girls astray, she would be had up before the
governors, and
then she would not find herself in a very pleasant position.' Ruth did
not say
anything. Her face turned white. Cassandra glanced at her, uttered a
quick
sigh, and resumed: 'Whether you like it or not, I am glad you are out
of the
whole thing. I should hate you to get into trouble. You are so clever,
and so
different from the others, that you are certain to succeed. And now let
us
hurry home. I must tell you all about our scheme. You must come to me
every
day; Miss Renshaw will be with us each evening from six to seven. Oh!
you don't
know how happy you are making me.'
Ruth smiled and tried to look cheerful. Mrs.
Weldon came out to meet the
two girls as they entered the pretty little cottage. Her face was
smiling. 'Ah,
Cassandra!' she said, 'now you will be happy.'
'Yes; Ruth has accepted our offer.'
'Indeed I have, Mrs. Weldon,' said Ruth; 'and I
scarcely know how to
thank you.'
'Come in, dear, and have some dinner. - Cassandra,
I have just heard from
Miss Renshaw, and she is coming this afternoon. - You can either stay,
Ruth, when
dinner is over, or come back again. '
'I will come back,'
said Ruth. 'Granny
is not very well, and I ought not to have left her, even to have dinner
here;
but I couldn't help myself.' Cassandra brought her friend into the
house. They
had a pleasant meal together, and Ruth tried to forget that she had
absolutely
quarrelled with Jenny, and that Jenny's heart was half-broken on her
account.
But Jenny herself
was determined
not to give way to any real feelings of misery on account of Ruth's
desertion.
'I have no time to think about it,' she said to herself. When she
returned to
the house she found a telegram waiting for her. She tore it open. It
was from Aunt
Bernice Weinburg: 'I have arrived. Come and have dinner with me
to-night at the
Metropole, and bring any friend you like.'
'What a lark!' thought Jenny. 'And what a chance
for Ruth if only she
had been different! Oh, dear! I suppose I must ask Alice to come with me.'
'Whom is your telegram from, dear?' asked Mrs.
Tennant, coming up to her
at that moment. Alice
was standing in the dining-room devouring a book of Greek history. She
held it
close to her eyes, which were rather short-sighted. 'It's from Aunt
Bernice Weinburg.
She has come, the darling!' said Jenny. 'She wants me to go to London to dine
with her to-night. Of course I'll
go. - -You will come with me, won't you, Alice?
She says I am to bring some one.'
'No, I can't come,' said Alice;
'and for that matter no more can you. It takes quite thirty-five
minutes to get
to Charing Cross, and then you have
to get to
the Metropole. We girls are not allowed to go to London by ourselves.'
'As if that mattered.'
'It matters to me, if it does not to you.
Anyhow, here is a note for
you. It is from Miss Ravenscroft, our head-mistress. I rather fancy
that will
decide matters.'
Jenny tore open the note which Alice
had handed to her. She read the following words: 'DEAR MISS WEINBURG, - I
should
be glad if you would come round to see me at six o'clock this evening. I have
something of importance
to say to you.'
'What can she mean?' said Jenny. 'I scarcely
know Miss Ravenscroft. I
just spoke to her the first day I went to the school.'
'She has asked me too. What can it be about?'
said Alice.
'Then you can take a
message from
me; I am not going,' said Jenny. 'What?' cried Alice. 'I don't think even you will
dare to
defy the head-mistress. Why, my dear Jenny, you will never get over it.
This is
madness. - Mother, do speak to her. '
'What is it, dear?'
said Mrs.
Tennant, coming forward. Alice
explained. 'And Jenny says she won't go?'
'Of course I won't go, dear Mrs. Tennant. On the
contrary, you and I
will go together to see Aunt Bernice Weinburg. She is my aunt, and I
wouldn't
slight her for all the world. She'd never forgive me. - You can tell Miss Ravenscroft, Alice, that my
aunt has
come to see me, and that I have been obliged to go to town. You can
manage it
quite easily.'
Jenny did not wait for any further discussion,
but ran out of the room.
'I do wish, mother, you'd try and persuade her,' said Alice. 'I am
sure, whatever her father may
be, he can't want her to come to school here to get into endless
scrapes. There
is some mystery afoot, and Miss Ravenscroft has got wind of it. I know
she has,
because I have heard it from one or two of the girls.'
'But what mystery? What can you mean?' said Mrs.
Tennant. 'I don't know
myself,' said Alice,
'but
it
has
something to do with Jenny and a curious influence she has over
the
foundation girls. I know Jenny isn't popular with the mistresses.'
'That puzzles me,' said Mrs. Tennant, 'for I
never met a more charming
girl.'
'I know you think so; but, you see, mere charm
of manner doesn't go down
in a great school like ours. Of course I am sorry for her, and I quite
understand that she doesn't want to disappoint her aunt, but she ought
to come
with me; she ought, mother. I haven't the slightest influence over her,
but you
have. I don't think she would willingly do anything to annoy you.'
'Well, I will see what I can do. She is a
wayward child. I am sorry that
Miss Ravenscroft expects her to go to see her to-day, as she is so
devoted to
her aunt and would enjoy seeing her.'
Mrs. Tennant left the room, and Alice
went steadily on with her preparations. She wondered why her mother did
not
come back. Presently she looked at the clock. It wanted a quarter to six.
'Dear me! I must go upstairs now and fetch
Jenny. She will have to tidy
herself, and I must try to persuade her not to put on anything outré,'
thought Alice.
She rushed upstairs. She opened the bedroom
door. The bedroom was empty.
'Where can she be?' thought Alice.
There were signs of Jenny's late presence in the
shape of a tie flung on
the bed, a hat tossed by its side, an open drawer revealing brushes and
combs,
laces and coloured ties, and no end of gloves, handkerchiefs, &c.;
but not
the girl herself.
'She really is a great trial,' thought Alice. 'I
suppose she has gone with mother to
town. I wonder mother yields to her. Jenny will get into a serious
scrape at
the school, that's certain.'
Alice went to her own part of the room, which
was full of order and
method. She opened a drawer, substituted a clean collar for the one she
had
been wearing during the day, brushed out her satin-brown hair neatly,
put on
her sailor-hat and a small black coat, snatched up a pair of gloves,
and ran
downstairs. On the way she met Mrs. Tennant.
'Oh, mother,' cried the girl, 'where is Jenny? I
didn't find her in her
room, and I wondered what had become of her.'
'Where is she?' said Mrs. Tennant. 'I thought
she was going with you. I
had a long talk with her. She did not say much, but she seemed quite
gentle and
not at all cross. I kissed her and said that I would go with her to London to see
her aunt
to-morrow, or that she might ask Miss Weinburg here.'
'I am sorry you did that, mother.'
'Well, darling, it seemed the only thing to do;
and the child took it
very well. Isn't she going with you? She said she wouldn't be at all
long
getting ready.'
'She is not in her room, mother. I can't imagine
what has happened to
her.'
Mrs. Tennant ran upstairs in some alarm. Jenny
had certainly flown. The
disordered state of the room gave evidence of this; and then on a
nearer view
Mrs. Tennant found a tiny piece of paper pinned in conventional fashion
to the
pin-cushion. She took it up and read:
'Gone to London
to Aunt Bernice Weinburg.'
'Well, she is a naughty girl. How troublesome! I
must follow her, of
course,' said Mrs. Tennant. 'Really this is provoking.'
'Oh, mother, it isn't worth while fretting about
her. She is quite
hopeless,' said Alice.
'But
there!
I
must make the best of it to Miss Ravenscroft, only I am sure
she
will be very angry with Jenny.'
Alice flew to the school. She was met by a
teacher, who asked her where
she was going.
'To see Miss Ravenscroft,' replied Alice.
'I had a note asking me to call at six o'clock. Do you know anything about it, Miss
Purcell?'
'Perhaps she wants to question you about Miss
Weinburg. There is some
commotion in the school in connection with her. She seems to be
displeasing
some of those in authority.'
'Jenny had a note too, asking her to call.'
'Then it must be about her. But where is she?
Isn't she going with you?'
Alice threw up her hands.
'Don't ask me,' she said; 'perhaps the less I
say the better. I am late
as it is. I won't keep you now, Miss Purcell.'
Alice ran the rest of the way. She entered the
great school, and knocked
at the front entrance. This door was never opened except to the
head-mistress
and her visitors. After a time a servant answered her summons.
'I am Alice Tennant,' said the young girl, 'and
I have come at Miss
Ravenscroft's request to see her.'
'Oh yes, miss, certainly. She said she was
expecting two young ladies.'
'Well, I am one of them. Can you let her know?'
'Step in here, miss.'
Alice was shown into a small waiting-room. A
moment later the servant
returned.
'Will you follow me, miss?' she said.

This
lady was the great Miss Ravenscroft, the head of the school, one of the
most
persuasive,
most fascinating, and most influential teachers in the whole realm
of girlhood.
They went down a passage and
entered a brightly and cheerfully furnished
sitting-room. There was a fire in the grate, and electric light made
all things
as bright as day. A tall lady with jet-black hair combed back from a
massive
forehead, and beautifully dressed with a long black dildo with which
she had
just been penetrating the anus of one of the more junior teachers,
knelt by the
hearth. This lady was the great Miss Ravenscroft, the head of the
school, one
of the most persuasive, most fascinating, and most influential teachers
in the
whole realm of girlhood. Her opinion was asked by anxious mothers and
fathers
and guardians. The girls whom she took into her own house and helped
with her
own counsel were thought the luckiest in England. Even Alice, who
was
reckoned a good girl as good girls go, had never before come in
personal contact
with Miss Ravenscroft. The head-mistress superintended the management
of every
girl in the school, but she did not show herself except when she read
prayers
in her deep musical voice morning after morning, or when something very
special
occurred. Miss Ravenscroft did not smile when Alice appeared, nor did she hold out
her
hand. She bowed very slightly and then dropped into a chair, and
pointed to
another for the girl to take.
'You are Alice Tennant?'
'Yes, madam.'
'You are in the upper fifth?'
'Yes,' said Alice
again.
'I have had very
good reports of
you from Miss Purcell and Miss Dove and others; you will probably be in
the sixth
next year.'
'I hope so; it will be a very great delight to
me.' Alice
trembled and coloured, looked down, and
then looked up again. Miss Ravenscroft was regarding her with kindly
eyes. Hers
was a sort of veiled face; she seldom gave way to her feelings. Part of
her
power lay in her potential attitudes, in the possibilities which she
seldom,
except on very rare occasions, exhibited to their fullest extent. Alice felt that
she had
only approached the extreme edge of Miss Ravenscroft's nature. Miss
Ravenscroft
was silent for a minute; then she said gently:
'And your friend, Jenny Weinburg? I wrote to her
also. Why isn't she
here?'
'I am very sorry indeed,' said Alice;
'it isn't my fault.'
'We won't talk of faults, if you please, Alice
Tennant. I asked you why
your friend isn't here.'
'I must explain. She isn't my friend. She lives
with mother - I mean she
boards with mother.'
'Why isn't she here?'
'She got your letter. I suppose she didn't
understand; she is so new to
schools. She is not coming.'
'Not coming? But I commanded.'
'I know, I tried to explain, but she is new to
school and - and spoilt.'
'She must be.'
Miss Ravenscroft was silent for a minute.
'We will defer the subject of Jenny Weinburg
until I have the pleasure
of speaking to her,' she said then. 'But now, as you are here, I should
like to
ask you a few questions.'
'Yes.'
'What you say, Alice Tennant, will not be - I
speak in judicial phrase' - here
Miss Ravenscroft gave vent to a faint smile - 'used against you. I should
like to
have what information you can give me. There is a disturbing element in
this
school. Do you know anything about it?'
'Nothing absolutely.'
'But you agree with me that there is a
disturbing element?'
'I am afraid I do.'
'It has been traced to Jenny Weinburg.'
Alice was silent.
'It is influencing a number of girls who can be
very easily impressed,
and who form a very important part of this school. Special arrangements
were
made more than a hundred years ago by the founders of the school that
they
should receive an education in every way calculated to help them in
life; the
influence to which I allude undermines these good things. It must
therefore be
put a stop to, and the first way to put a stop to anything of the sort
is to
discover all about it. It is necessary that I should know all that is
to be
known with regard to the unruly condition of the foundationers of the Great Shirley School.
The
person
who
can doubtless tell me most is Jenny Weinburg. The mere fact of her
defying my
authority and refusing to come to see me when she is summoned, shows
that she
is insubordinate as far as this school is concerned.'
Alice sat very still.
'She has not chosen to appear, and I wish to
take quick and instant
steps. Can you help me?'
'I could,' said Alice - 'that
is, of course, I live in the same house with her - but I would much
rather not.'
'You will in no way be blamed, but it is
absolutely essential that you
should give me your assistance. I am authorized to ask for it. I shall
see Jenny
Weinburg, but from what you say, and from what I have heard, I am
greatly
shocked to have to say it, but I think it possible that she may not be
induced
to tell the exact truth. If, therefore, you notice anything - if anything
is
brought to your ears which I ought to know - you must come to me at once.
Do not
suppose that I want you to be a spy in this matter, but what is
troubling the
school must be discovered, and within the next few days. Now you
understand.
Remember that what I have said to you is said in the interest of the
school,
and absolutely behind closed doors. You are not to repeat it to
anybody. You can
go now, Alice Tennant. Personally I am pleased with you. I like your
manner; I
hear good accounts of your attention to lessons. In pleasing me you
will please
the governors of the school, and doubtless be able to help yourself and
your
mother, a most worthy lady, in the long run.'
'I am very much obliged to you,' said Alice. 'You have
spoken kind words to me; but
what you have set me to do is not at all to my taste. It seems scarcely
fair,
for I must say that I don't like Jenny. She and I have never got on. It
seems
scarcely fair that I should be the one to run her to earth.'
'The fairness or the unfairness of the question
is not now to be
discussed,' said Miss Ravenscroft.
She rose as she spoke.
'You are unfortunately in the position of her
most intimate friend,' she
continued, 'for you and she live in the same house. Regard what you
have to do
as an unpleasant duty, and don't consider yourself in any way
responsible for
being forced into the position which one would not, as a rule,
advocate. The
simplest plan is to get the girl herself to make a full confession to
me; but
in any case, you understand, I must know.'
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