Kitabı oku: «Hollyhock: A Spirit of Mischief», sayfa 10

CHAPTER XIX.
JASMINE'S RESOLVE

The whole circumstances of the case kept Jasmine wide awake during the greater part of the night. She slept and woke again, and each time she slept she saw a picture of her naughty sister Hollyhock and of that unpleasant girl, Leucha Villiers, clinging together as though they were, and always would be, the very greatest of friends.

Now Leucha, in her way, was quite as troublesome an inmate of the school as was Hollyhock; but whereas Hollyhock was the life and darling of the school, Leucha, the uninteresting, the lonely, the proud, the defiant, the cold, cold English girl, chose to be alone with the single exception of a friend, who was as uninteresting as herself.

Hollyhock, in the most extraordinary – yes, there is no doubt of it – in the most naughty way, had brought Leucha round to her side. But if Leucha were told the truth that a hoax had been played upon her, that there was no real ghost, then indeed her wrath would burn fiercely; and, in fact, to put it briefly, there would start in the school a profound feud. Several of the girls, more especially the English girls, would go over to Leucha's side. Yes, without the slightest doubt, a great deal of mischief would be done if she were told. Poor little Jasmine had never before been confronted by so great a problem. Hitherto in her sweet, pure life right had been right and wrong wrong; but now what was right? – what was wrong?

She turned restlessly and feverishly on her pillow, and got up very early in the morning, hoping to have a quiet talk first with Hollyhock, then with Margaret Drummond. She was not particularly concerned about Margaret, who naturally followed the lead of a strong character like Hollyhock's. Nevertheless, she had left her the night before in such stress of mind that whatever happened, whatever course they pursued, she must be soothed and comforted.

Jasmine was relieved to find Hollyhock standing outside Leucha's door. Hollyhock looked quite wild and anxious.

'Oh, but it's I that have had an awful night, Jasmine!' she exclaimed. 'She has gone off into a sleep now, poor thing; but I never, never did think that she would take this matter so to heart. We mustn't tell her, Jasmine. It would kill her if she knew.'

'But, Holly, you really are incorrigible. How am I to go on in the school if you play these terrible pranks?'

'It's the mischief in me joined to a bit o' the de'il,' retorted Hollyhock. 'But she must never know – never. I have been up with her the whole night, and she has just dropped off into slumber. I must go back to her immediately. You won't tell, Jasmine darling? It would do her a cruel wrong. I have brought her round to me at last, the poor, ugly thing; but if she was to learn – to learn! Oh Jasmine, it would be just too awful!'

'Well,' said Jasmine, 'I do not see how we are to keep it from her; but you have certainly won her in a most remarkable way. You must promise me, Holly darling, that you 'll never play such a wicked prank again.'

'Never – never to her, poor Leuchy! I can make no further promises, being chock-full of mischief as an egg is full of meat.'

'Well, I 'll allow it to remain as it is at present. I doubt if I 'm doing right; and I doubt if it can be kept from her, for so many girls in the school know.'

'Oh, I 'll manage the girls. You leave them to me, Jasmine, and go back to The Garden.'

'It father knew what you had done he would not allow you back to The Garden until the end of term,' replied Jasmine.

'What! when I have won the bit speck of a heart of the coldest girl in the school?'

'Well, at any rate, we will let things be at present; but I must go up and speak to Margaret Drummond. She is fretting like anything about the whole affair.'

'Meg,' said Hollyhock in a tone of contempt – 'let her fret; only tell her from me to keep her tongue from wagging. Why, she was cut out for a ghostie, so thin and tall she is. I had only to use a wee bit of chalk and a trifle of charcoal, and the deed was done. A more beautiful live ghost could not be seen than Meg Drummond. She did look a fearsome thing. I have put the old cloak and the Cameron's cocked hat in a wee oak trunk in the ghost's hut. Here is the key of the trunk, Jasmine. You run along and lock it. Now run, run, for I hear Leucha twisting and turning in her sleep. I must get back to her. You manage Meg, and lock the trunk, and we are all right – that we are.'

Jasmine felt, on the contrary, that they were all wrong; but, overcome by Hollyhock's superior strength, she obeyed her young, wild sister to the letter. She found, however, that her task with Meg Drummond was no easy one. Meg had a very sensitive conscience, and now that the fun was over, and she was no longer acting as poor ghost with his dripping locks, she felt truly horrified at what she had done. The only road to peace was by confession. Of course she would confess and put things all right; there was nothing else to be done. Nevertheless, after a vast amount of arguing on the part of Jasmine, who assured her that if she told the simple truth now, Leucha might and probably would become most alarmingly ill, and that she would certainly hate poor Hollyhock to her dying day – for Jasmine well grasped the true character of the English girl – Meg began to waver.

'Still, I ought to confess,' said Margaret Drummond. 'I 'm willing to accept any punishment Mrs Macintyre chooses to put upon me.'

'Oh, dear Meg,' exclaimed Jasmine, 'I've been thinking the matter over all night – backwards and forwards have I been twisting it in my mind – and though I do think you did wrong, and Holly did worse than wrong, yet she has achieved a wonderful victory. She has secured for herself the passionate love of the coldest and most uninteresting girl in the school.'

'I do not care for that,' said Margaret. 'She's just nothing at all to me; and I did wrong, and I ought to confess, for the good of my soul.'

'Oh, nonsense, Meg; don't be such a little Puritan. Leucha is far from well now, and the only person who can calm and control her is Holly. If you take Holly away from her, which you will do by confession, you may possibly have to answer for Leucha's very life. Be sensible, Meg dear, and wait at any rate until I come back on Monday morning.'

'I 'll wait till then,' said Meg; 'but it's a mighty heavy burden, and Holly had no right to put it on to me, and then to act the part of comforter herself. My word! she is a queer lassie.'

'Well, let things bide as they are till to-morrow at least,' said Jasmine. 'And now I must go home or father will wonder what is the matter.'

Jasmine, having made up her mind that Leucha was not to be told, went with her usual Scots determination to work. She visited poor ghostie's trunk in the hut, and having secured from her favourite Magsie a large sheet of brown paper and some string, she not only locked the trunk, but took away all signs of the adventure of the night before. The bits of chalk, the sticks of black charcoal, the cloak, the pointed hat, the wig, were all removed. The hut looked as neglected as ever, and the trunk, empty of all tell-tale contents, had its key hung on a little hook on the wall.

Then Jasmine returned to The Garden, bearing ghostie's belongings with her. All this happened at so early an hour that Jasmine had time to put away the cloak of the Camerons, the peaked hat, the wet wig, into a certain cupboard where they were usually kept in one of the attics. She then went downstairs, had a hot bath, put on her prettiest Sunday frock, and joined the others at breakfast. Of course, there were innumerable questions asked her with regard to her sudden departure the night before, and also with regard to the distracted-looking girl who had burst into their midst in the great hall in The Garden. But Jasmine, having made up her mind, made it up thoroughly.

'I did not expect it of a Scots girl,' she remarked, 'but I 'm thinking that all is right now, and we can enjoy our Sabbath rest without let or hindrance.'

Sunday was a day when Cecilia Constable and her brother brought up their children with a strictness unknown in England. Games and fairy tales were forbidden; but when kirk was over, they were all allowed to enjoy themselves in pleasant and friendly intercourse.

Meanwhile matters were not going well at the Palace of the Kings; for Leucha, never strong mentally, had got so serious a fright that she was now highly feverish, and neither the doctor nor Mrs Macintyre could make out what was the matter with her. The girls were requested to walk softly and whisper low. The house, by Dr Maguire's order, was kept very still, and Hollyhock took possession of the sickroom. There she nursed Leucha as only she could, soothing her, petting her, holding her hand, and acting, according to Dr Maguire, in the most marvellous manner.

'Never did I see such a lassie,' was his remark. 'She has the gift of the real nurse in her. – But, Miss Hollyhock,' he continued, 'you must not be tied to this sickroom all day. I must 'phone to Edinburgh and get a nurse to attend to the young lady.'

'I 'll have no one but Hollyhock,' almost shrieked the distracted Leucha.

'Yes, doctor dear, I think you had best leave her to me. I 'm not a bit tired, and we understand one another.'

'I do believe this poor child has been up with her all night,' said Mrs Macintyre.

'And what if I have?' cried Holly. 'Is a friend worth anything it she can't give up her night's rest? I 'll stay with my friend. We understand one another.'

So Hollyhock had her way; and although the girls whispered mysteriously downstairs, and Meg Drummond looked ghastly and miserable, neither Mrs Macintyre nor any of the teachers had the slightest suspicion of what had really occurred.

Daisy Watson, it is true, ventured to peep into Leucha's room; but the excited girl told her, with a wild shriek, to go away and never come near her again, and Hollyhock and Magsie managed Leucha between them.

Hollyhock was now the soul of calm. She coaxed the sick girl to sleep, and when she awoke she told her funny stories, which made her laugh; and she herself sat during the greater part of that day with her hand locked in the hot hand of Leucha. It was she who applied the soothing eau de Cologne and water to Leucha's brow. It was she who swore to Leucha that their friendship was to be henceforth great and eternal. On one of these occasions, when Hollyhock had to go downstairs to one of her meals, Leucha welcomed her back with beaming eyes.

'Oh Hollyhock, I used to hate you!'

'Don't trouble, lassie. You have taken another twist round the other way, I 'm thinking.'

'I have – I have. Oh Hollyhock, there never was anybody like you in the world!'

'I 'm bad enough when I like,' said Holly. 'Shall I sing you a bit of a tune now? Would that comfort you?'

'I 'm thinking of that awful ghost,' said Leucha.

'Do not be silly, Leucha, my pet. Didn't I tell you he will not try his hand again on an English girl? Now, then, I 'm going to sing something so soothing, so soft, that you cannot, for a moment, but love to listen.'

The rich contralto voice rose and fell. The girl in the bed lay motionless, absorbed, listening. This was sweet music indeed. Could she have believed it possible that Hollyhock could put such marvellous tenderness into her wonderful voice?

 
'Ye Hielands and ye Lowlands,
Oh! where hae ye been!
They hae slain the Earl o' Murray,
And hae laid him on the green.
 
 
'Now wae be to thee, Huntley,
And whairfore did ye say
I bade ye bring him wi' you,
But forbid you him to slay!
 
 
'He was a braw gallant,
And he rid at the ring,
And the bonnie Earl o' Murray,
Oh, he might hae been a king!
 
 
He was a braw gallant,
And he played at the ba';
And the bonnie Earl o' Murray
Was the flower amang them a'!
 
 
'He was a braw gallant,
And he played at the gluve;
And the bonnie Earl o' Murray,
Oh, he was the Queen's luve!
 
 
'Oh, lang will his lady
Look owre the Castle downe,
Ere she see the Earl o' Murray
Come sounding thro' the town!'
 

Leucha's eyes half closed, half opened, and she was soothed inexpressibly by the lovely voice. Hollyhock, holding her hand, continued:

 
'Oh, waly, waly up the bank,
And waly, waly doun the brae,
And waly, waly yon burnside,
Where I and my luve were wont to gae!
 
 
'Oh, waly, waly, gin luve be bonnie,
A little time while it is new!
And when 'tis auld it waxeth cauld,
And fades awa' like mornin' dew.'
 

The voice was now so soft, so altogether enticing, that it seemed to the feverish girl as though angels were in the room. Hollyhock dropped her notes to a yet lower key:

 
'Over the mountains
And over the waves,
Under the fountains
And under the graves;
Under floods that are deepest,
Which Neptune obey,
Over rocks that are steepest,
Love will find out the way!'
 

There was no sound at all in the room. The sick girl was sleeping gently, peacefully – the unhappy, miserable girl – for love had found out the way.

When the doctor came in the evening, he was amazed at the change for the better in his young patient. All the fever had left her, and she lay very calm and quiet. Hollyhock suggested that a little camp-bed should be put up in the room, in which she might sleep; and as her power over Leucha was so remarkable, this suggestion was at once acceded to both by Dr Maguire and Mrs Macintyre. They had been really anxious about the girl in the morning; but now, owing to Hollyhock's wonderful management, Leucha slept all night long, the beautiful sleep of the weary and the happy.

Once in the middle of the night Hollyhock heard her murmur to herself, 'Love will find out the way,' and she stretched out her hand immediately, and touched that of Leucha, with a sort of divine compassion which was part of the instinct of this extraordinary child.

During the next few days Leucha was kept in bed and very quiet, and Hollyhock was excused lessons, being otherwise occupied. But a girl, a healthy girl, even though suffering from shock, quickly gets over it if properly managed, and by the middle of the week Leucha was allowed to go downstairs and sit in the ingle-nook, while the girls who had hitherto detested her crowded round to congratulate their beloved Hollyhock's friend.

'Yes, she's all that,' said Hollyhock; 'and now those who want me to talk with them and make myself agreeable must be friends with my dear Leuchy, for where I go, there goes Leuchy. Eh, but she's a bonnie lass, and she was treated cruel, first by our deserting her, and then by what will not be named. But she 's all right now. – You belong to me, Leuchy.'

'That I do,' replied Leucha; and so marvellously had love found out the way that the very expression of her unpleasant little face had completely altered. As Hollyhock's friend, she was now admitted into the greatest secrets of the school; but the real secret of the ghost was still kept back.

CHAPTER XX.
MEG'S CONSCIENCE

All went well for a time in the school, and all would have gone well for a much longer period had it not been for Meg Drummond. Meg did not mean to make mischief; but, alas! she was troubled by a conscience. This she considered very virtuous and noble on her part; but she was also troubled by something else, which was neither virtuous nor noble. She seemed jealous – frantically jealous – of Leucha Villiers.

Lady Crossways had spoken of her young daughter as 'my cold, distinguished child, who never wears her heart on her sleeve.' Lady Crossways was very proud of this trait in Leucha, and Leucha herself was proud of it, and treasured and fostered it until she came across Hollyhock. From the first she was attracted by Hollyhock – a queer sort of attraction, a mingling of love and jealous hate; but now it was all love, all devotion. As a matter of fact, she tried Hollyhock very much, following her about like the kitchen cat when she smelt cream, fawning upon her in a way which soon became repulsive to Hollyhock, refusing to have any other friend, and over and over again in the day kissing Hollyhock's hands, her brow, her cheeks, her lips. All this sort of thing was pure torture to Hollyhock. But although she was terribly tried, she determined to go through with her mission, and hoped ere long to train Leucha into finer and grander ways. By their father's permission, Leucha was invited to accompany the Flower Girls to The Garden on a certain Saturday. The boys looked at her with undisguised disdain, and expressed openly their astonishment at Hollyhock's taste; but when she begged of them to be good to the poor girlie, the Precious Stones succumbed, as they ever did, to bonnie Hollyhock.

The school had been open now for some time, and the full number of seventy was made up. Leucha was now so infatuated with Hollyhock that she no longer regretted her being the queen of the school. Hollyhock, for her part, held serious conversations with her sisters about the girl whom she had so strangely conquered.

'We must make a woman of her,' said Hollyhock. 'She is naught in life but a cringing kitchen cat at present, but it is our bounden duty to turn her into something better. How shall we set to work, lassies?'

The Flower Girls considered. Jasmine inquired anxiously if Leucha was clever in any particular branch.

'No,' said Hollyhock; 'she could not even make a ghostie.'

'Well, can we not pretend that she is clever?' said Gentian.

'That's a good notion,' exclaimed Hollyhock. 'I have heard whispers that there are big prizes to be given in the school by the Duke to the girls that are best in different subjects. We don't want prizes, not we; but that little Leuchy, she 'd be up to her eyes with joy if we were to set her trying for a prize. I 'm thinking that Mrs Macintyre will declare the nature of the prizes very soon. After prayers to-morrow I 'll set Leuchy on to try for one. I 'll help her, if I can, privately. She has got what I have not, and that's ambition. I can work on that; and, lassies, it will be a great relief to me, for I hate – I hate being purred on and kissed all day long. I must put up with it; but it's trying, seeing my own nature is contrariwise to that.'

The five girls talked a while of the coming prizes.

Leucha was now under the charge of Jasper, and they got on tolerably well, for Jasper would do anything in the world for Hollyhock, and as Hollyhock was the only love of Leucha's life, she talked on no other subject whatsoever to the lad.

'Well,' he exclaimed, 'you surely don't tell me that you kiss her —kiss Holly! – and she so prickly with thorns?'

'Indeed, I do, Jasper. She loves my kisses; she would not take them from any one else.'

'Wonders will never cease,' said Jasper. 'I would not disgrace the bonnie dear by stupid old kisses.'

'But you are a boy, Jasper. You 're quite different,' said Leucha.

'Well, I'm thinking not so very. I'm first cousin to her, remember, which happens to be next door to brother. But there, let's talk of something else. What mischief is the dear up to now?'

Leucha related a few harmless little pranks, for Hollyhock did not dare to give vent to her real spirit of mischief while Leucha clung round her like the kitchen cat.

The next day Leucha and the Flower Girls returned to the school, and, as Hollyhock had predicted, Mrs Macintyre called her flock around her and said that she had an announcement to make regarding an arrangement winch would be a yearly feature in the school. Six prizes of great magnificence were to be awarded at the Christmas 'break-up.' These were as follows:

(1) For efficiency in learning.

(2) For those games now so well known in schools.

(3) For the best essay of about one thousand words, the subject to be selected by each girl herself. The only proviso was that she must not tell the other girls who were competing what subject she had chosen; otherwise an absolutely free choice was given, and even Mrs Macintyre was not to know the subjects selected before the momentous day when the papers were given in.

(4) A prize for good conduct generally.

(5) A prize for progress made in French, German, and Italian history and conversation, the girls choosing, however, only one of these three great languages.

(6) And, greatest of all, a prize was to be given – and here the head-mistress could not help glancing for a brief moment at her dearly loved Hollyhock – to one of the girls who was so brave that she feared nothing, and so kind-hearted that she won the deep affection of the entire school.

The prizes were the gift of the great Duke of Ardshiel, and were to take the form of lockets with the Duke's own crest set on them in sparkling diamonds. The girls were to choose their own subjects, and in especial were to choose their own ordeal for the final test of valour, no one interfering with them or influencing their choice.

These prizes the Duke promised to present year after year. One condition he made – that a girl who won a gold and diamond locket might try again, but could not win a second locket; if successful, she would receive in its place what was called 'A Scroll of Honour,' which was to be signed by the great Ardshiel himself.

Mrs Macintyre after this announcement requested her pupils to go at once to their several tasks, only adding that she hoped to receive the names of the girls who meant to try for the six lockets by the following evening at latest.

The great and thrilling subject of the prizes was on every one's lips, and each and all declared that Hollyhock was certain to get the prize for valour and good-fellowship. What the test would be nobody knew, and Hollyhock kept her own thoughts to herself. She was deeply concerned, however, to set Leucha to work, and had a long talk with her friend on the evening of that day.

'You can try for the essay, Leuchy dear,' she said.

'No, I can't; I haven't got the gift. I have got no gift except my love for you. Oh, kiss me, Hollyhock; kiss me!'

Hollyhock endured a moat fervent embrace. A voice in the distance was heard saying, 'Little fool. I cannot stand that nonsense!'

'Who is talking?' said Leucha, standing back, her face assuming its old unpleasant expression.

'Oh, nobody worth thinking of, dear,' said Hollyhock, who knew quite well, however, that Margaret Drummond was the speaker. Margaret had not been friendly to her – not in the old passionate, worshipful way – since the night of the ghostie. Hollyhock's present object, however, was to get Leucha to put down her name for the essay, explaining to her how great would be the glory of the happy winner of the diamond locket.

'You may be sure it is worth trying for,' said Hollyhock, 'for the brave old Duke never does anything by halves.'

'Ah, kiss me, kiss me,' said Leucha. 'I'd do anything for you; you know that.'

'I do; but we won't have much time for kissing when we are busy over our different tasks. I 'll help you a good bit with your essay, Leuchy. There's no name given to the subject, so what do you say to calling it "The Kitchen Cat"?'

'Oh, my word! I was angry with you then,' said Leucha.

'So you were, my bonnie dearie, and I only did it out of the spirit of mischief; but I can instruct you right well in the ways of the kitchen cat.'

'I 've always hated cats,' said Leucha.

'You cannot hate wee Jean, and I'll tell you all her bonnie ways.'

'What subject are you going to take yourself, Holly?'

'Oh, I – I 'm in the danger zone,' said Hollyhock, with a light laugh.

'It terrifies me even now to think of that ghost!'

'Don't be frightened, Leuchy. He means no harm, and he will not trouble you again. So don't you trouble your bonnie head, but win the glorious prize by an essay on the kitchen cat. I can assure you no one else will choose that subject, so you have the field to yourself, and well you'll do the work. Don't I know that you 'll get the beauteous prize with the Duke's crest on it, in the stones that sparkle and shine?'

'Mother would like that well,' said Leucha. 'She would be just delighted.'

'Then try for your mother's sake, as well as your own.'

'And you will help me, Holly?'

'To be sure I will. There 's no rule against one girl helping another. I 'll show you the way it 's to be done, and with your brains, Leuchy, you'll easily win the prize. Listen now; I 'll put my name down this very night for the danger zone, and you put your name down for the essay. Then we 'll both be all right.'

The six subjects for competition were taken up by quite half the school, the girls sending in their names under noms de plume to Mrs Macintyre, and in sealed envelopes. Never, surely, was there such an exciting competition before, and never was there such eagerness shown as by the various pupils who had resolved to try for the locket and diamond crest of Ardshiel.

All was indeed going smoothly, and all would have gone smoothly to the end but for the jealous temperament of Margaret Drummond. For a time she had remained faithful to Hollyhock, but, as she said to Jasmine, the immortal soul in her breast troubled her, and as the days went by and jealousy grew apace that immortal soul troubled her more and more. The final straw came in an unlooked-for and unfortunate way. Leucha had been asked to spend from Saturday to Monday at The Garden, and on the following Saturday Margaret Drummond was to accompany the Flower Girls to their home. The thought of going there and arguing about her precious soul occupied her much during the week. She was also a fairly clever girl, and was absorbed in the contest she had entered for – 'General Attainment of Knowledge.' But on Saturday morning there came a disappointment to her, which roused her ire extremely. It was news to the effect that Aunt Agnes Delacour was coming to The Garden, and that she had written a peremptory letter asking that on the occasion of this rare visit she herself should be the only guest.

It was impossible not to accede to this request. Holly felt both angry and alarmed, for she was not at all sure of Margaret Drummond; but there was no help for it. On receiving her father's letter she went at once to Margaret, who was packing her clothes for the great event, and begged of her most earnestly to take the matter like a good lass, and postpone her visit to The Garden until the following Saturday, giving the true and only reason for this delay.

'Oh!' said Margaret, 'I don't believe you, not for a minute. No woman would wish to keep a poor girl from her promised enjoyment.'

'You don't know Aunt Agnes, and at least it is not my fault, Margaret,' said Hollyhock.

'For that matter, I know a lot more than you think,' retorted Meg. 'But times have changed – ay, and much changed, too. I try to keep my soul calm, but I am not a fool. You don't care for me as you did, Hollyhock, and I imperilling my immortal soul all for you. You are a queer girl, Hollyhock Lennox, to forsake one like me, and to take up with another, and she the shabbiest-natured pupil in the school.'

'Indeed, indeed you mistake, Margaret,' said Hollyhock. 'I did wrong – we both did wrong that night.'

'Oh, you did wrong, did you? You are prepared to confess, I take it?'

'Oh Meg, to confess would be to ruin all. Have I not won her round? Is she not better than she was?'

'For my part,' said Meg, 'I see no change, except that she sits at your feet and smothers you with kisses; but I have my own soul to think of, and if you don't confess, Hollyhock Lennox, I have at least my duty to perform.'

'Please, please be careful, Meg. You don't know what awful mischief you 'll do.'

'I have to think of my soul,' replied Meg; 'but go your ways and enjoy yourself. No, thank you, I don't want to go to your house this day week. Perhaps I also can come round wee Leuchy. There's no saying what you 'll see and what you 'll hear on Monday morning!'

'Meg, you make me so wretched. Are you really going to tell her our silly little trick?'

'I make no promises; only I may as well say to you, Hollyhock, that my mind is made up.'

Hollyhock felt almost sick with terror. She flew to Jasmine and got her to talk to Margaret Drummond, but Margaret had the obstinacy of a very jealous nature. She was obstinate now to the last degree, and the departure of the Flower Girls gave her a clear field.

Leucha was extremely lonely without Hollyhock. In her presence she was cheerful and bright, but without her she was lonely. Tears stood in her eyes as she bade Hollyhock good-bye, and Hollyhock clasped her to her heart, feeling as she did so that all was lost, that all efforts were in vain, that she herself would be publicly disgraced, and that Leucha would naturally never speak to her again. These things might come to pass at once. As it was, they did come to pass a little later on, but on this special Saturday there was a slight reprieve both for Leucha and for Hollyhock.

Mrs Drummond drove over from Edinburgh in a luxurious motor-car and took her daughter away, promising to send her back to the school on the following Monday morning.

Margaret devotedly loved her mother, and was not long in her presence before the entire story of the ghost and her part therein was revealed. Mrs Drummond was a most severe Calvinist, a puritan of the narrowest type. She was shocked beyond measure with her daughter's narrative. She sat down at once and read her a long chapter out of the Holy Book on all liars and their awful fate.

Margaret shivered as she listened to her mother's words.

'My dear,' said Mrs Drummond, 'if you do not confess and get that wicked Hollyhock – what a name! – into the trouble she deserves, you have your share with those of whom I'm reading. I'll come with you on Monday morning, and you 'll stand up in front of the entire school and tell what you and Hollyhock did. Mrs Macintyre will lose her school if such a thing is allowed.'

'But, oh, mother, I do love Hollyhock. Is there no other way out?'

'Having sinned,' said Mrs Drummond, 'you must repent. Having done the wicked thing, you must tell of it. Mrs Macintyre will be very shocked, but I think nothing of that. It is my lassie I have to think of. It was Providence sent me to fetch you home to-day! There's no other way out. Confession – full confession – is the only course. You must stand up and do your part, and that wicked girl will as likely as not be expelled.'