CHAPTER V.
WIT AND GENIUS: THE PLAN PROPOUNDED.

While Jenny was locked in Alice's room, she was writing to her father:

 'MY DARLING DADDY. - If ever there was a cold, dreary, abominable land, it is this where they wave the British flag. The ugliness of it would make you sick. The people are as ugly as the country, and they're so stiff and stuck-up. If you suppose for a moment that your wild American girl can stand much of this sort of thing, you are fine and mistaken, and you can tell the mother so. I mean to write to Aunt Bernice Weinburg to-morrow and give her a fine piece of my mind. Early in the day, dad, I did not think that I could stay at all; but I have got a plan in my head now, and if I succeed I may at least put up with one term of this detestable school. I won't tell you the plan, for you mightn't approve; in fact, I can guess in advance that you wouldn't approve. Anyhow, it is going to occupy the time and thoughts of your Jenny. Now I want a good bit of money; not a pound or even five pounds, but more than that. Can you send me a ten-pound note, daddy mine, and say nothing whatever about it to the mother or the retainers at Houston, Texas? And can you let me have it as quick as quick can be? Maybe I will want more before the term is up, or maybe I won't. Anyhow, we will let that lie in the future. Oh, my broth of an old dad, wouldn't I like to hug you this blessed minute? How is everybody at home? How are the mountains? How is the sea? How is the trout-stream? Are those young cousins of mine behaving themselves? And how are you, my heart of hearts - missing your Jenny, I doubt not? Well, no more for the present. They're rattling at the door like anything, and there's a detestable boy now whistling 'The Star-Spangled Banner' right into my heart. You can't imagine what I am feeling. Oh, the bastard! he is changing it now into 'Stars and Stripes,' Golly, then, daddy! I must stop, for it's more than the heart of woman can stand. Your affectionate daughter,

 'JENNY.'

This letter was posted by Jenny herself. After supper she went with David into the old loft over the tumble-down stables. It was not a very safe place of refuge, for the rafters were rotten and might tumble down at any time. Still, the sense of danger made it all, the more interesting to the children. There they sat side by side, and Jenny told David about her old life. She was very outspoken and affectionate, and very fierce and very wild. To look at her, one would have said there never was any one less reserved; but Jenny in her heart of hearts was intensely reserved. Her real feelings she never told; her real hopes she never breathed. She talked with high spirits all the time; and although she liked David and was much comforted by his words and his actions, he did not get at the real Jenny at all.

Jenny took David's penis in her mouth, which had become awfully stiff for all the while she was talking, she had been pumping it up and down in her hand. With a gesture she forbade the boy from touching her between the legs, but instead took his manhood into her mouth and gobbled it as if it were an American  delicacy that required much exercise of the tongue. In little more than a few minutes, David ejaculated once more: this time as much in Jenny's mouth as on her face.

When Alice came back that evening Jenny was sound asleep in her little bed, dreaming of Houston, Texas and the old home. She was murmuring some loving words as Alice entered the room.

'Oh, daddy mine, my heart is sore for you,' she was saying in a tone which caused Alice to pause and look at her attentively.

'She is the most awful girl I ever heard of,' thought Alice. 'I am sure she will get us into trouble. I know that those three guineas a week that mother gets for having her are not worth all the mischief she will drag us into. But still, she does look pretty when she is asleep.'

Jenny had very long and very thick eyelashes and nobly arched brows. Her forehead was broad and full and beautifully white. The mischievous, dare-devil expression of her face when awake was softened in her sleep. Alice, who had determined to come very noisily into the room and bang her things about, to take rude possession of her own half of the bed - which, after all, was the better half - was softened by the look on the girl's face. She knelt for a moment at her bedside and prayed that God would keep her from quite hating Jenny. This was a great deal from Alice, who had made up her mind never to be friends with the American girl.

Then she got into bed besides the naked Jenny and fell asleep, a hand desultorily stroking her vagina.

The next morning, quite early, Jenny was up. She was accustomed to getting up almost at cock-crow at Houston, Texas, and when Alice opened her eyes, it was to see an empty bed and an empty room.

'I wonder if she's up to mischief?' she thought.

She got up and went to the window. Jenny was walking naked across the common. She had no hat on, and no jacket. She was stepping along leisurely, looking up sometimes at the sky, and sometimes pausing as though she was thinking hard.

'She will catch cold and be ill; that will be the next trouble,' thought the indignant Alice. She sleepily proceeded with her dressing. It was only half-past seven. The Great Shirley School met at nine. Alice was seldom downstairs until past eight. When she came down this morning she saw, to her amazement, Jenny helping the very untidy maid-of-all-work to lay the breakfast things. She was dashing about, putting plates and cups and saucers anyhow upon the board.

'Now then, Maria,' she said, 'shall I run down to the kitchen and bring up the hot bacon and the porridge? I will, with a heart and a half. Oh, you poor girl, how tired you look!'

Maria, whom Alice never noticed, looked with adoring eyes at beautiful Jenny.

'It isn't right, miss. I ought to be doing my own work,' she said. 'I am ever so much obliged to you, miss.'

'Golly, then, it is I who like to help you,' said Jenny, 'for you look fair beat.'

She dashed past Alice, and appeared the next moment in the kitchen.

'Where's the bacon, cook? And where's the bread, and where's the butter, and all the rest of the breakfast? See, woman - see! Give me a tray and I will fill it up and take the things upstairs with my own hands. You think it is beneath me, perhaps; but I am a lady from a villa, and at Houston, Texas we often do this sort of thing when the hands of the poor maids are full to overflowing.'

The cook, a sandy-haired and sour-looking woman, began by scowling at Jenny; but soon the girl's pretty face and merry eyes appeased her. She and Jenny had almost a quarrel as to who was to carry up the tray, but Jenny won the day; and when Mrs. Tennant made her appearance, feeling tired and overdone, she was amazed to see Jenny acting parlour-maid.

'I love it,' she said. 'If I can help you, you dear, tired, worn one, I shall be only too glad.'

'I am sure, mother,' said Alice, 'it is very good of Jenny to wish to do the household work; but as she has been sent here to gain some information of another sort, do you think it ought to be allowed?'

'And who will prevent it, darling? That is the question,' said Jenny in her softest voice.

Alice was silent.

'I tell you what,' said Jenny. 'When I see you beginning to help your poor, exhausted mother, and running messages for that overworked slavey - I think you call her Maria - then perhaps I'll do less. And when there's some one else to mend the boys' socks, perhaps I won't offer; but until there is, the less you say about such things the better, Miss Alice Tennant.'

Ben kicked David under the table, and David kicked him back to stay quiet. Altogether the breakfast was a noisy one.

Jenny went to school quite prepared to carry out her promise to Susy Hopkins. She had neatly packed the little American diamond brooch in a box, and had slipped under it a tiny note:

 'Get as many foundation girls as you can to meet me, at whatever place you like to appoint, this evening. I have a plan to propose. - JENNY WEINBURG.

 'P.S. - You can name the place by pinning a note under my desk. Be sure you all come. The plan is gloryious.'

The thought of the note and the plan and the little brooch kept Jenny in a fairly good humour on her walk to school. There she saw Ruth Craven. She was decidedly angry with Ruth for having, as she said to herself, 'snubbed her' the day before. But beauty always had a curious effect on the American girl, and when she observed Ruth's really exquisite little face, clear cut as a cameo, with eyes full of expression, and watched the lips ready to break into the gentlest smiles, Jenny said to herself:

'It is all over with me. She is the only decent-looking chick I have met in this God-forsaken country. Make up to her I will.'

She dashed, therefore, almost rudely through a great mass of incoming girls, and seized Ruth by her shoulder.

'Ruth,' she said, 'go and talk to Susy Hopkins during recess. She will have something to say, and I want you so badly. You won't refuse me, will you, Ruth?'

'But I don't know what you want,' said Ruth.

'Go and talk to Susy Hopkins; she will know. Oh, there she is!'

'Jenny, Jenny!' called out Alice. 'The school-bell has just rung, and they are opening the doors. Come do come.'

'In a jiff,' replied Jenny.

She ran up to Susy.

'This is what I promised,' she said; 'and there is a note inside. Read it, and give me the answer where I have asked you.'

Susy Hopkins, a most ordinary little girl, who had no position of any sort in the school, coloured high with delight. Some of the paying girls looked at her in astonishment. Susy walked into the school with her head high in the air; she quite adored Jenny, for she was making her a person of great distinction.

'We are going to have a glorious time,' whispered Susy to Kate Rourke as they made their way to their respective classes.

Kate was big, black-eyed, impudent. She was jealous of the
paying girls of the school; but she treated Susy as someone
beneath contempt.

Susy was small, rather stupid, and absolutely un-important. Kate was big, black-eyed, impudent. She was jealous of the paying girls of the school; but she treated Susy as some one beneath contempt.

'Don't drag my arm,' she replied crossly. 'And what you do mean by a glorious time? I don't understand you.'

'You will presently,' said Susy. 'And when all is said and done, you will have to remember that you owe it to me. But I have no time to talk now; only meet me, and bring as many of the foundationers as you can collect into the left-hand corner of the playground, just behind the Botanical Laboratory, at recess.'

Kate made no answer, unless a toss of her head could have been taken as a reply. Her first impulse was to take no notice of Susy's remarks - little Susy Hopkins, the daughter of a small stationer in the town, a girl who had scarcely scraped through in her examination. It was intolerable that she should put on such airs.

The work of the school began, and all the girls were busy. Kate was clever, and she meant to try for one of the big scholarships. She would get her forty pounds a year when the time came, and go to Holloway College or some other college. She was not a lady by birth; she had not a single instinct of a true lady within her; but she was intensely ambitious. She did not care so much for beauty as for style; she made style her idol. The look that Cassandra wore as she walked quietly across the room, the set of her dress, the still more wonderful set of her head as it was placed on her queenly young shoulders - these were the things that burnt into Kate's soul and made her restless and dissatisfied. She would willingly have given all her father's wealth - and he was quite well-to-do for his class - -to have Cassandra's face, Cassandra's voice, Cassandra's figure. Cassandra was not at all a pretty girl, but her appearance appealed to all the wild ambitions in Kate's soul. She had a jealous contempt of Ruth Craven, who, although a foundation girl, managed to look like a lady; but her envy was centreed round Cassandra. As to the American girl, she had scarcely noticed her up to the present.

Work went on that morning with much verve and vigour. It was a pleasant morning: the windows were open; the schoolrooms were all well ventilated; the teachers, the best of their kind, were stimulating in their lectures and in their conversation. There was a look of business and animation throughout the whole place: it was like a hive of bees. At last the moment of recess arrived. Kate just raised her head, looked over the shoulders of her companions, and saw Susy Hopkins darting restlessly about, catching one girl by the sleeve, another by the arm, whispering in the ear of a third, flinging her arm round the neck of a fourth; and as she spoke to the girls they looked interested, astonished, and cordial. They moved away to that lonely part of the playground which was situated at the back of the Botanical Laboratory. Kate had made up her mind not to take the least notice of Susy. She was pacing up and down alone; for, most provoking, all her chosen friends had gone off with that young lady. Suddenly she saw Ruth Craven going very quietly by. By all the laws of the foundationers, Ruth ought to speak to her companions in misfortune. Kate rushed up to her.

'What are they all doing there?' she said. 'Do you happen to know Susy Hopkins?'

'No,' replied Ruth gently. 'She came up to me just now and asked me to join her and some other girls at the back of the Laboratory. I don't know that I want to.'

'I am curious,' said Kate. 'Of course, I am no friend of Susy's; she is a most contemptible little wretch; but I may as well know what it is all about. Come with me, won't you?'

Ruth hesitated.

'Come along; we may as well know. There is probably some mischief on foot, and it is only fair that we should be forewarned.'

'I don't want to know,' said Ruth; but as Kate slipped her hand through her arm and pulled her along, she said resignedly, 'Well, if I must I must.'

As they strolled across the big playground, Ruth turned and glanced at Cassandra; but Cassandra was busy making friends with Florence, who was very angry with her for her desertion of the day before, and took no notice of Ruth. The American girl was nowhere in sight. Ruth sighed and continued her walk with Kate.

The most lonely and most dreary part of the playground was that little portion which was situated at the back of the Laboratory. Nothing grew there; the ground was innocent of grass, and much worn by the tramping of young feet. There were swings and garden-seats and preparations for tennis and other games in the rest of the big playground, but nothing had ever been done at the back of the Laboratory. When the two girls arrived they found five other girls waiting for them. Their names were, of course, Susy Hopkins, who considered herself on this delightful occasion quite the leader; a gentle and refined-looking girl of the name of Mary Rand; Rosy Myers, who was pretty and frivolous, with dark eyes and fair hair; Clara Sawyer, who was renowned for her vulgar taste; and Hannah Johnson, a heavy-looking girl with a scowling brow and a very pronounced jaw. Hannah Johnson was about the plainest girl in the school. When Susy saw Kate Rourke and Ruth Craven she uttered a little scream of delight.

'Now we are complete,' she said. 'Listen to me, all you girls, for I haven't too long in which to tell you; that horrid bell will ring us back to lessons and dullness in less than no time. The most wonderful, delightful chance is offered to us. I met her yesterday, and she decided to do it. She is a brick of bricks. She will make the most tremendous difference in our lives. You know, although you pretend not to feel it, but you all must know how we foundationers are sat upon and objected to in the school. We bear it as meekly as we can for the sake of our so-called advantages; but if we can be snubbed, we are, and if we can be neglected, we are - although it isn't the teachers we have to complain of, but the girls. Sometimes things are past bearing, and yet we are powerless. There are three hundred paying girls, and there are one hundred foundationers. What chance has one hundred against three?'

'What is the good of bringing all that up, Susy?' said Mary Rand. 'We are foundationers, and we ought to be thankful.'

'The education is splendid; we ought not to forget that,' said Ruth Craven.

Susy turned on Ruth as though she would like to eat her.

'It is all very fine for you,' she said. 'Just because you happen to be pretty, they take you up. I wonder one of your fine friends doesn't pay for you, and so save your position out and out.'

'I wouldn't allow her to,' replied Ruth, her eyes flashing fire. 'I had much rather be a foundationer. I mean to prove that I am every bit as good as a paying girl. I mean to make you all respect me, so there!'

'That'll do, Spitfire,' said Kate Rourke. 'The time is passing, and we must get to the bottom of Susy Hopkins's remarkable address. - What's up, Susy? What's up?'

'This,' said Susy. 'You know the American girl who has come to live with the Tennants?'

'Can't say I do,' said Kate.

'Well, you will soon. She's a regular out-and-out beauty.'

'I know her,' cried Ruth Craven. 'She is most lovely.'

'She's better,' said Susy; 'she's bewitching. See; she gave me this.' Here she pointed proudly to the American diamond brooch, which she held to her bosom. The diamond had been polished, and flashed brightly; the silver setting was also as good as was to be found. The girls crowded round to admire, and 'Oh, my!' 'Oh, dear!' 'Did you ever?' and 'Well, I never!' sounded on all sides.

'You will be so set up now, Susan Hopkins, that we won't be able to bear you in the same class,' said Clara Sawyer.

'Go on,' exclaimed Hannah Johnson - 'go on and tell us what you want. Your horrid brooch doesn't interest us. What have you got to say?'

'You are mad with jealousy, and you know it,' answered Susy. 'Well, I am coming to the great news. The American girl's name is Jenny Weinburg, and she comes from a villa over in the wild west of America. Her father is very rich, and he keeps dogs and horses and carriages and - oh, everything that rich people keep. Compared to the other girls in the school, she is ten times a lady; and she has a true lady's heart. And she has taken a dislike, as far as I can see, to Alice Tennant.'

'And I'm sure I'm not surprised,' said Rosy Myers.

'Stuck-up thing!' said Clara Sawyer.

'Dirt beneath our feet!' exclaimed Hannah Johnson.

'Well; she doesn't like her either, though she doesn't use that kind of language,' continued Susy. 'Anyhow, she wants to befriend us - Oh, do let me speak!' - as Kate interrupted with a hasty exclamation. 'She thinks that we are just as good as herself. There is no false pride about a real lady, girls; and the end of it is that she has a plan to propose - something for our benefit and for her benefit. See for yourselves; this is her letter. It is in her own beautiful American, handwriting. You can read it, only don't tear it all to bits.'

The girls did read the letter. They pressed close together, and one peeped over the shoulder of her companion, another stood on tiptoe, while a third tried to snatch the letter from the hand of her fellow; but all managed to read the words: 'Get as many foundation girls as you can to meet me, at whatever place you like to appoint, this evening. I have a plan to propose.' This letter and the end of the postscript excited the girls; there was no doubt whatever of that. 'The plan is gloryious.' They laughed at the word, smiled into each others' faces, and stood very close together consulting.

'The old quarry,' whispered Rosy.

'That's the place!' exclaimed Mary.

'Let us meet her, we seven by ourselves,' was Kate's final suggestion. 'We will then know what she wants, and if there is anything in it. We can form a committee, and get other girls to join by degrees. Hurrah! I do say this is fun.'

Susy was now quite petted by her companions. The conference hastily ended, and on entering the school Susy pinned a piece of paper under Jenny's desk, on which she wrote: 'The old quarry; nine o'clock this evening. Will meet you at a quarter to nine outside Mrs. Tennant's house.'

When Jenny received the communication her eyes flashed with delighted fire. She thrust the letter into her pocket and proceeded with her work. The American girl looked quite happy that day; she had something to interest her at last. Her lessons, too, were by no means distasteful. She had a great deal of quick wit and ready perception. Hitherto she had been taught anyhow, but now she was all keen to receive real instruction. Her intuitions were rapid indeed; she could come to startlingly quick conclusions, and as a rule her guesses were correct rather than otherwise. Jenny had a passion for music; she had never been properly taught, but the soul of music was in her as much as it was in David Tennant. She had a beautiful melodious voice, which had, of course, not yet come to maturity. Just before the end of the morning she took her first lesson in music. Her mistress was a very amiable and clever woman of the name of Agnes Spicer. Miss Spicer put a sheet of music before her.

'Play that,' she said.

Jenny frowned. Her delicate white fingers trembled for an instant on the keys. She played one or two bars perforce and very badly; then she dashed the sheet of music in an impetuous way to the floor.

'I can't,' she said; 'it isn't my style. May I play you something different?'

Miss Spicer was about to refuse, but looking at the girl, whose cheeks were flushed and eyes full of fire, she changed her mind.

'Just this once,' she said; 'but you must begin to practice properly. What I call amateur music can't be allowed here.'

'Will this be allowed?' said Jenny.

She dashed into heavy chords, played lightly a delicate movement, and then broke into an American  air, 'New York New York.' From one American melody to another her light fingers wandered. She played with perfect correctness - with fire, with spirit. Soon she forgot herself. When she stopped, tears were running down her cheeks.

'What is music, after all,' she said, looking full into the face of her teacher, 'when you are far from the land you love? How can you stand music then? No, I don't mean to learn music at the Great Shirley School; I can't. When I am back again at home I shall play 'New York New York,' but I can't do it justice here. You will excuse me; I can't. I am sorry if I am rude, but it isn't in me. Some time, if you have a headache and feel very bad, as my dear father does sometimes, I shall play to you; but I can't learn as the other girls learn - it isn't in me.'

Again she put her fingers on the keys of the piano and brought forth a few sobbing, broken-hearted notes. Then she started up.

'I expect you will punish me for this, Miss Spicer, but I am sorry - I can't help myself.'

Strange to say, Miss Spicer did not punish her. On the contrary, she took her hand and pressed it against her bare bosom.

'I won't ask you to do any more to-day,' she said. 'I see you are not like others. I will talk the matter over with you to-morrow.'

'And you will find me unchanged,' said Jenny. 'Thank you, all the same, for your forbearance.'