Naturally Miss Roberts's accident and consequent
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absence from her post made a great upset in the school: classes had to be rearranged, and lessons delegated to other teachers. It was particularly awkward, because the Fifth Form was working for the Senior Oxford5, and though only a few girls were actually to take the examination, the preparation was the same for everybody.
"I call it too bad," said Betty Brierley, an acknowledged slacker, "to make the whole Form grind—grind—grind—like this, all on behalf of about four candidates. They ought to have a special class to themselves."
"There's method in the madness, though," said Joan Masters. "Miss Roscoe isn't going to tell till the very last who's to go in for it, so nobody knows if she mayn't be destined6 as a victim for the sacrifice, and her name already entered."
"Oh! Not me!"
"Don't alarm yourself. But there are one or two others who, I expect, are on the secret list. It depends entirely7 on our weekly reports."
"Then I'm safe, for mine are always bad. I wouldn't go in for a public exam, for the whole world, the school ones are quite enough for me, and too much, as a rule. Who's likely, do you think?"
"I'm not quite sure. Elspeth Frazer, for one, and—yes, I shouldn't be so very much astonished if Miss Roscoe's chosen Gwen Gascoyne."
"Gwen—yes. She's been bucking8 up no end lately in maths."
"And in Latin too. However, it's not our business. But I think there'll be some surprises."
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Gwen, whether or not with the idea of the Senior Oxford in her head, had certainly been working hard. She had not only caught up, but even overstepped most of the Form, and her reports kept a steady average of improvement. Miss Roscoe, who was generally scanty9 in the matter of praise, said little, but there was an air of encouragement about her which urged Gwen to her best efforts.
"I made up my mind I'd let them all see I could do the work as well as anybody, though I am the youngest," she said to herself. "They don't sneer10 at me now."
Her translation from the Lower School was beginning to feel quite an old remembrance. Her thoughts went back sometimes to that first day in the Fifth, the day when Netta had taken her into Miss Roscoe's private sitting-room11, and she had broken the box of china. That was a recollection which always stung, and which she would thrust away uneasily into the lumber-room of her mind. So far she had heard nothing more from Parker's, but the consciousness of the debt was there, and she knew that sooner or later she would be called upon to face the difficulty.
Nor was she mistaken. One Saturday morning, when she was taking a little vigorous exercise with the lawn mower12 before breakfast, she saw the postman coming in at the gate, and obeying a sudden impulse, ran to receive the letters, instead of allowing him to deliver them as usual at the door. There were four circulars for Father, a postcard for Beatrice, and one thin business envelope addressed to "Miss
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Gwen Gascoyne, c/o Miss Goodwin, The Thorns, Manor13 Road, Stedburgh," and re-directed in Netta's handwriting to "Skelwick Parsonage, North Ditton". Full of apprehension14 Gwen turned it over, and saw the name "J. Parker & Sons" printed on the flap. So it had come at last! Without even opening it she knew perfectly15 well what must be inside. She wondered they had waited so long before sending in the account again. What a mercy she had intercepted16 the postman that morning and taken the letters herself! If Beatrice had got hold of this it would have been impossible to conceal17 the matter any longer. Why had Netta sent the letter on by post instead of giving it to her at school? Surely it was a piece of spite on her part. Gwen turned quite hot as she thought of what Beatrice would have said. She hastily put the postcard and circulars on the breakfast-table, and ran down the garden to a retired18 place in the orchard19, where she could open her ill-fated envelope in privacy.
Yes, it was just what she anticipated—a bill for ten shillings, and a polite but urgent request that the amount should be paid without further delay. She crushed it angrily in her hand, then stuffed it into her pocket and stood thinking. What was she to do? What could she do? All sorts of desperate schemes came running through her mind, and she gave each its due consideration.
"If I were a girl in a magazine story," she thought, "I suppose I'd disguise myself as a pierrette and go and sing on the promenade20 at Stedburgh. I dare say I'd get heaps of pennies. But—oh! I wonder
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if girls ever really do such things out of books? Father'd rather I owed pounds than went singing for pennies. He stopped the Sunday School children going round on Christmas Eve, but then they went into the public-houses, and of course I shouldn't. No, I couldn't risk it, and besides, I'd be too shy to sing, and somebody would be sure to find out. Shall I ask Dick to lend me half a sovereign? He would in a minute. No! I've not sunk to sponging on my boy friends, at any rate. I'd rather do a day's charing21 than that. A good idea! Why shouldn't I turn charwoman? If Beatrice would let me clean out the schools every Saturday, instead of Mrs. Cass, and pay me the money, I'd work off the bill in time. I wonder if I dare suggest it?"
The breakfast bell ringing loudly and clamorously at that moment put an end to Gwen's meditations22, and she went indoors, but she was much preoccupied23 during the meal, so that she never noticed how Giles was peppering her piece of bread and butter till she incautiously took a bite and choked.
"You hateful boy! You're always up to some monkey tricks!" she exclaimed indignantly.
"'For she can thoroughly24 enjoy The pepper when she pleases!'"
jeered25 Giles, adroitly26 dodging27 the smack28 she designed for him.
And the rest of the family laughed—yes, laughed, in a most heartless and inconsiderate manner.
"Your wits were wool-gathering, Gwen!" said Winnie, quoting a local proverb. "Stumps29 did it
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so deliberately30 and openly that anybody could have caught him who wasn't absolutely dreaming. We were all watching to see if you'd notice."
"The absent-minded beggar!" piped Basil.
"I think you're all very horrid31 and unkind!" complained the victim, still sneezing.
"Don't be grumpy, Gwen!"
"You must learn to take a joke, childie!" said Father, pushing back his chair and going away to his study.
Father so generally stood up for her that Gwen felt aggrieved32. She had always flattered herself upon her capacity for accepting "ragging" with equanimity33, but this, she considered, was beyond a joke.
"It might have got into my eyes and blinded me," she declared with plaintive34 dignity, and leaving the peppery remains35 on her plate, stalked off to the garden. She had certainly been too busy thinking during breakfast to notice her plate. It had struck her that if she really wished Beatrice to allow her to do charwoman's work at the school, she must give some proof of her capacity in that direction.
"Mrs. Cass never begins till one o'clock," she thought. "I'll go down this morning and get it all done before she comes, and then I can show Beatrice."
It seemed the only possible way of earning money open to her, so stealing one of Nellie's coarse aprons37 and a tin of soft soap from the kitchen, she hurried off to the school. She knew where Mrs. Cass kept the bucket and scrubbing-brush which she used for her cleaning operations; they were in a cupboard at the end of the passage. Being Saturday, the place was,
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of course, empty, and no one would disturb her. She had brought the Parsonage key to unlock the door, and after filling her bucket at the pump in the yard, she put on the apron36, tucked up her sleeves, and set to work. And it was work! Gwen had never in her life before tried to scrub a floor, and though her arms were sturdy and strong at wielding38 a tennis-racket or the lawn mower, they soon began to ache at the unwonted exercise which she had set herself. The room seemed most enormously large, and she was sure it was abnormally dirty. The school children's boots must have been caked with mud. She began to have a wholesome40 respect for Mrs. Cass. She grew stiff and cramped41 with kneeling, and was obliged to stand up occasionally and take a rest.
"There are the two classrooms to do yet," she thought ruefully, "to say nothing of the passage. I'm getting rather fed up with scrubbing."
But she was only half through, so she set grimly to her self-imposed task again. She had very nearly finished the big room when the door softly opened, and who should appear but Beatrice! At the sight of Gwen and her occupation she nearly dropped the books she was carrying.
"Gwen! what's the meaning of this? You do look an object!" she exclaimed.
Gwen jumped up hastily, well aware that she thoroughly merited any aspersions on her appearance. Both her dress and the apron were soaked with water, her face had accumulated some of the dirt, her hair ribbon had fallen off, and her hair was dangling42 in her eyes. A more untidy young person
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could not have been found in the whole village. She flung back her hair with a wet, grimy hand, and finding her pocket handkerchief, tried to wipe her face.
"What freak is this, Gwen? Whatever will you do next?" continued Beatrice.
"I didn't expect you here till I'd finished," answered Gwen, sitting down exhaustedly43 on a form.
"You know I often come to practise the hymns44, now Winnie takes the mission-room at Basingwold. That doesn't explain why you're washing the floor."
"I wanted you to see that I could do it. I thought perhaps you'd let me scrub every week, and pay me instead of Mrs. Cass," said Gwen, blurting45 out her scheme in the baldest outline.
Beatrice took another comprehensive glance at her sister's disreputable figure, then sat down hilariously46.
"You needn't laugh so—I mean it seriously," protested Gwen. "I want the money."
"Oh! oh! You look so funny!" screamed Beatrice; then, suddenly sobering down, she changed her tone. "I couldn't help laughing," she continued, "but it was a good thing it was only I who came in and caught you in this dirty mess. What prompted you to be so silly?"
"I've told you already."
"Gwen, don't be idiotic47! How could you scrub the school every week. Besides, we couldn't take the work away from Mrs. Cass. She'd be most indignant She needs the money badly, poor body, with that large family to keep."
This was an utterly48 new aspect of the case that had not before occurred to Gwen.
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"I want money too," she groaned49.
"So do I, and so does Dad, and so do we all, but we can't get it," replied Beatrice rather tartly50. "We have to make up our minds to go without. You're no worse off than the rest of us."
Gwen paused. A half impulse was stirring within her to tell her sister her difficulties. If only Beatrice looked a little more sympathetic!
"How do you know I'm no worse off?" she began.
"I've no patience with you, Gwen! You're always thinking about yourself! You've done a silly, mad prank51 to-day, and I don't know what Mrs. Cass will say when she arrives. Really, at your age you ought to know better and remember your dignity. You're not a child now, though I'm sure you behave like one. Go and put that bucket and scrubbing-brush away, and wash your face before you walk home. I shall have to explain to Mrs. Cass, or she'll think I've been giving her work to another charwoman. It would be enough to make her leave the church! She's fearfully touchy52. I wonder when you'll learn sense."
Very crestfallen53, Gwen turned away. No, it was quite impossible to confide54 in Beatrice. Beatrice never understood, never even seemed to want to understand. In her superior, elder-sisterly position she simply condemned55 everything without hesitation56.
"I wonder if she used to do silly things herself?" thought Gwen. "She's always been six years older, and preached to me since I can first remember. Shall I ever catch her up, or will she seem those six years ahead to the end of the chapter?"
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And having performed some very necessary ablutions, she walked home, looking tired and woebegone.
Beatrice, with a sigh, opened the harmonium and chose her hymns for to-morrow's Sunday School, wondering on her part why this particular sister was so difficult to manage, and so utterly different in disposition57 from the rest of the family.
"I'm sure I do my best," she thought, "but Gwen has always been a trial. I can't imagine whom she takes after. If the ugly duckling's ever going to turn into a swan, it's time she began!"
All Sunday Gwen was haunted by a horrible black shadow. She kept Parker's letter in her pocket, and the remembrance of it never left her. Gwen generally enjoyed Sundays, but this particular day was like a nightmare. How to get out of her scrape she could not imagine. The debt felt like a heavy millstone tied round her neck. In the afternoon, when the others sat reading and chatting under the trees in the garden, she mooned about the orchard by herself, too miserable58 even to be interested in a book. How was the affair to end? She did not dare to go to Parker's and explain that at present it was impossible to pay the bill. She supposed she would simply have to let things drift and await further developments. What steps Parker's would take next, she could not foresee. They would probably wait a week or even more before further pressing the account, and any respite59 was welcome. Trouble was ahead, doubtless, but it was better ten days off than to-morrow, because there was always the faint hope that some circumstance might arise at the eleventh hour to smooth over the
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difficulty. On Monday morning Gwen seized an opportunity to catch Netta alone.
"I say," she began, "it was awfully60 mean of you to send that letter of Parker's on to me by post. Why couldn't you have brought it to school instead?"
"Why should I?" retorted Netta. "I'm not going to act postman for you, I can assure you! And look here, Gwen Gascoyne, you'll please not have any more letters directed to you at our house! We don't want to receive your bills, thank you! You must give your own address to the shops. Haven't you settled that affair with Parker's yet?"
"No, and I don't want it to be found out at home. Beatrice always takes in the letters and deals them round. It was by the merest good luck she didn't get hold of mine on Saturday. Netta, do let me use your address! You might do that much for me!"
"Why should I? I've done quite enough for you, and too much already. I'm tired of the whole business. I was silly to be mixed up with it in the beginning."
"But you started it! You took me into Miss Roscoe's room, and then you suggested going to Parker's and replacing the china."
"Are you trying to throw the blame on me?" flared61 Netta.
"Not altogether; but I think you were partly responsible, and that you got off cheaply."
"That's uncommonly62 fine," sneered63 Netta. "No, no, my good Gwen, that little dodge64 won't work. This child isn't going to be burden-bearer for your sins. If you get into scrapes you must get out of
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them yourself. I've lost a sovereign over you already."
"And for what?" exploded Gwen angrily. "What about my beautiful essay, that you took and used as your own?"
"Wasn't worth it! It was a freak of mine just then to win that prize, but I've never looked at the book since. I'm sorry I troubled about it. I'd rather have the sov. now."
"And I'm sorry too, because it wasn't fair and square, and I've felt vile65 about it ever since. I hate all these underhand things."
Netta smiled sarcastically66.
"Of course you hate them when they don't turn out to your advantage. Pity you didn't pursue your course of virtue67 a little earlier! You were ready enough to trade the essay for the sov. at the time, so what are you grumbling68 about now?"
"Your meanness."
"Look here, Gwen Gascoyne, I've had enough of this! I won't hear another word about your wretched affair. As I told you before, you must get out of your own scrapes, and not expect other people to act Providence70 for you. If you mention the subject again, I simply shan't listen."
Gwen had scarcely expected either help or consolation71 from Netta, though she felt indignant that her old chum should show her so little sympathy in the matter. After all, it was only in accordance with Netta's character. Grapes do not grow on thistles; and a girl so destitute72 of all sense of conscience was not likely to prove a stanch73 and faithful friend. Gwen
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was learning by slow and painful experience that bright amusing manners may be worthless unless allied74 to more sterling75 qualities. She had been wont39 to admire Netta's easy style, and even to try to copy it; now it struck her as hollow and vapid76. If only she could have started quite afresh, with no guilty memories to disturb her, she felt she had the chance of getting into a better set in her Form. But what would Elspeth Frazer, Hilda Browne, Iris Watson, or any of the nicer girls think of her conduct, both in regard to the broken-china episode or the transferred essay? She knew it would not accord with their code of honour.
"I wish I had the courage to tell Miss Roscoe everything," groaned Gwen. "It would have been the straightest course if I'd gone and confessed at once when I smashed the china. It would have saved a great many complications. Dare I possibly tell now?"
She walked along the passage to the study. The door was open, so she peeped cautiously in. Miss Roscoe sat correcting papers, and nobody else was in the room. If she wished to make her confession77, here was certainly her opportunity. Her heart beat and thumped78, and the words seemed to freeze upon her lips. Miss Roscoe looked so stern as she sat at her desk making pencil notes on the margins79 of the exercises; there was a hard, uncompromising expression on her face which Gwen knew only too well, and which did not tend in the direction of tenderness towards wrongdoers. Gwen was still smarting from the scolding she had received for her conversation
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with Dick out of the window. If Miss Roscoe viewed that peccadillo80 so seriously, what would she say to the tale which her pupil had to unfold?
"I daren't! I daren't!" thought Gwen. "No, I really can't screw up the courage. I loathe81 myself for a deceitful wretch69, and yet—oh, dear!—there's nothing in this world I dread82 so much as being found out!"
She ran down the passage again with a sense of relief. One voice in her heart assured her that she had escaped a danger, though another upbraided83 her for her cowardice84.
"If Miss Roscoe hadn't looked quite so severe I might have ventured," she sighed in response to the latter. "I don't believe I'll get even so far as the study door again."
So a golden opportunity was lost, and Gwen, who might even thus late have chosen the straighter, harder path, shirked the disagreeable experience, and was left perforce to reap the harvest of her own sowing.
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1
gushed
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| v.喷，涌( gush的过去式和过去分词 )；滔滔不绝地说话 | |
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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iris
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| n.虹膜，彩虹 | |
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previously
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| adv.以前，先前（地） | |
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Oxford
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| n.牛津（英国城市） | |
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destined
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| adj.命中注定的；(for)以…为目的地的 | |
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entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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bucking
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| v.（马等）猛然弓背跃起( buck的现在分词 )；抵制；猛然震荡；马等尥起后蹄跳跃 | |
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9
scanty
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| adj.缺乏的，仅有的，节省的，狭小的，不够的 | |
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sneer
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| v.轻蔑；嘲笑；n.嘲笑，讥讽的言语 | |
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sitting-room
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| n.（BrE）客厅，起居室 | |
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12
mower
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| n.割草机 | |
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manor
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| n.庄园，领地 | |
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apprehension
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| n.理解，领悟；逮捕，拘捕；忧虑 | |
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perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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intercepted
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| 拦截( intercept的过去式和过去分词 )； 截住； 截击； 拦阻 | |
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conceal
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| v.隐藏，隐瞒，隐蔽 | |
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retired
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| adj.隐退的，退休的，退役的 | |
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orchard
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| n.果园，果园里的全部果树，(美俚)棒球场 | |
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promenade
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| n./v.散步 | |
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21
charing
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| n.炭化v.把…烧成炭，把…烧焦( char的现在分词 )；烧成炭，烧焦；做杂役女佣 | |
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meditations
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| 默想( meditation的名词复数 )； 默念； 沉思； 冥想 | |
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preoccupied
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| adj.全神贯注的，入神的；被抢先占有的；心事重重的v.占据（某人）思想，使对…全神贯注，使专心于( preoccupy的过去式) | |
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thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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jeered
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| v.嘲笑( jeer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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adroitly
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| adv.熟练地，敏捷地 | |
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dodging
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| n.避开，闪过，音调改变v.闪躲( dodge的现在分词 )；回避 | |
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smack
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| vt.拍，打，掴；咂嘴；vi.含有…意味；n.拍 | |
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29
stumps
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| （被砍下的树的）树桩( stump的名词复数 )； 残肢； （板球三柱门的）柱； 残余部分 | |
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deliberately
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| adv.审慎地；蓄意地；故意地 | |
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horrid
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| adj.可怕的；令人惊恐的；恐怖的；极讨厌的 | |
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aggrieved
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| adj.愤愤不平的，受委屈的；悲痛的；（在合法权利方面）受侵害的v.令委屈，令苦恼，侵害( aggrieve的过去式)；令委屈，令苦恼，侵害( aggrieve的过去式和过去分词) | |
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equanimity
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| n.沉着，镇定 | |
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plaintive
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| adj.可怜的，伤心的 | |
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remains
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| n.剩余物，残留物；遗体，遗迹 | |
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apron
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| n.围裙；工作裙 | |
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aprons
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| 围裙( apron的名词复数 )； 停机坪，台口（舞台幕前的部份） | |
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wielding
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| 手持着使用（武器、工具等）( wield的现在分词 )； 具有； 运用（权力）； 施加（影响） | |
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wont
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| adj.习惯于；v.习惯；n.习惯 | |
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wholesome
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| adj.适合；卫生的；有益健康的；显示身心健康的 | |
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41
cramped
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| a.狭窄的 | |
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dangling
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| 悬吊着( dangle的现在分词 )； 摆动不定； 用某事物诱惑…； 吊胃口 | |
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43
exhaustedly
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| adv.exhausted（精疲力竭的）的变形 | |
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hymns
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| n.赞美诗，圣歌，颂歌( hymn的名词复数 ) | |
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blurting
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| v.突然说出，脱口而出( blurt的现在分词 ) | |
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hilariously
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idiotic
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| adj.白痴的 | |
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48
utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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49
groaned
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| v.呻吟( groan的过去式和过去分词 )；发牢骚；抱怨；受苦 | |
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50
tartly
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| adv.辛辣地，刻薄地 | |
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51
prank
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| n.开玩笑，恶作剧；v.装饰；打扮；炫耀自己 | |
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touchy
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| adj.易怒的；棘手的 | |
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crestfallen
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| adj. 挫败的，失望的，沮丧的 | |
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confide
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| v.向某人吐露秘密 | |
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condemned
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| adj. 被责难的, 被宣告有罪的 动词condemn的过去式和过去分词 | |
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hesitation
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| n.犹豫，踌躇 | |
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disposition
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| n.性情，性格；意向，倾向；排列，部署 | |
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miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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respite
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| n.休息，中止，暂缓 | |
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awfully
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| adv.可怕地，非常地，极端地 | |
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Flared
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| adj. 端部张开的, 爆发的, 加宽的, 漏斗式的 动词flare的过去式和过去分词 | |
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uncommonly
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| adv. 稀罕(极，非常) | |
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sneered
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| 讥笑，冷笑( sneer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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dodge
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| v.闪开，躲开，避开；n.妙计，诡计 | |
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vile
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| adj.卑鄙的，可耻的，邪恶的；坏透的 | |
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sarcastically
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| adv.挖苦地，讽刺地 | |
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virtue
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| n.德行，美德；贞操；优点；功效，效力 | |
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grumbling
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| adj. 喃喃鸣不平的, 出怨言的 | |
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wretch
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| n.可怜的人，不幸的人；卑鄙的人 | |
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providence
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| n.深谋远虑，天道，天意；远见；节约；上帝 | |
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consolation
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| n.安慰，慰问 | |
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destitute
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| adj.缺乏的；穷困的 | |
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stanch
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| v.止住（血等）；adj.坚固的；坚定的 | |
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allied
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| adj.协约国的；同盟国的 | |
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sterling
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| adj.英币的(纯粹的，货真价实的)；n.英国货币(英镑) | |
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vapid
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| adj.无味的；无生气的 | |
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confession
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| n.自白，供认，承认 | |
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thumped
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| v.重击， （指心脏）急速跳动( thump的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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margins
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| 边( margin的名词复数 )； 利润； 页边空白； 差数 | |
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peccadillo
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| n.轻罪，小过失 | |
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loathe
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| v.厌恶，嫌恶 | |
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dread
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| vt.担忧，忧虑；惧怕，不敢；n.担忧，畏惧 | |
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upbraided
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| v.责备，申斥，谴责( upbraid的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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cowardice
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| n.胆小，怯懦 | |
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