Chapter XIII “A Nice Scrape She’ll Get Into!”
“Monica Beauchamp is back at school.”
The news soon spread, until all the Fourth Form girls were aware of the fact, and, for the most part, it was received with acclamation, for the bright, high-spirited girl had been missed during the month she had been away.
There was only one little clique who regretted her return, and that was Lily Howell and her votaries who, knowing she had a rooted objection to the new-comer, took their cue from their leader, and looked upon Monica as an interloper; but it must be confessed that, personally, they had no fault to find with her, except that the absolute indifference with which she treated them annoyed them terribly.
During recreation, when Olive would fain have had Monica all to herself, several of the girls, in other forms besides her own, gathered round her, and made quite a fuss of her. This of course did not escape Lily’s notice, who, remembering one occasion when she had returned to school after a slight illness, and no one had expressed any pleasure at seeing her back again, was frightfully jealous of Monica.
But the chief reason why she was sorry to see Monica at school once more was because she knew that, with Monica in the arithmetic class, her own chance of coming out first in the examination was decidedly lessened. There were only two studies which Monica had any real interest in, and those were German and arithmetic; the former because she had a very fair idea of the language, and the latter she thoroughly enjoyed and consequently took pains with.
Up to the half-term, Monica had kept her place steadily, much to Lily’s mortification, who had always been praised for her neatly worked examples, until Monica appeared upon the scene, with her less tidy, but far more quick and correct work. But the month she had been away provided Lily with a grand opportunity of getting ahead; and she had worked with a zeal, worthy of a better cause, to endeavour to supplant Monica.
Great was her chagrin, then, to find upon a new rule being explained by Miss Churchill, that Monica was well acquainted with it, and had worked out a given example, and got the right answer, before the problem had thoroughly penetrated Lily’s brain. She did not know that Monica had spent many hours amusing herself with her Hamblin Smith while she had been laid up at home, and so had got far ahead of what the Fourth Form was still doing.
“Very good indeed, Monica! You have worked that out well,” commended Miss Churchill, as she looked at the sum; and Monica flushed with pleasure at words of praise such as she seldom had received before.
During that last fortnight of the summer term, she tried her very hardest to have a neat exercise book, as well as correct answers, but it was uphill work for Monica, whose home-lessons were invariably blotted and smudged, and the lines anything but straightly ruled. However, Miss Churchill, quick to notice and commend real effort, encouraged her several times with a word of praise. None of these escaped Lily Howell’s ears, and she felt more convinced than ever that Monica was deliberately aiming at supplanting her in the forthcoming examination. No such idea had entered Monica’s head; she was merely actuated by a desire to please Miss Churchill, and arithmetic was the only subject (of those taught by her) for which Monica had any liking. In English subjects and science she was a terrible pupil, and she was continually getting into trouble on account of carelessly written, or insufficiently learnt, work; but as it was just at the end of the term, and she had been away so long, she was let off more easily than she really deserved.
At length the examination week dawned, and those girls who were keen about their place in the class list spent all their spare time in cramming. Amethyst Drury, whose talents lay in the direction of English history and geography, was continually on the look out for some one to hear her say her “dates,” and ask her questions about Africa, the country they were to be examined upon that term. Elsa, who, among others, was what their teacher called an “all-round girl,” knew it was hopeless to try to look up everything, so she depended upon the knowledge she had gained during the term; by far the wisest plan. Olive, who seldom did well in any subject, on account of carelessness and inattention, expected to “get along somehow”; the only distinction she ever obtained was for drawing, and as she certainly had a real gift in that direction she was universally acknowledged to be the artist of the class.
It would be impossible, as well as unnecessary, to describe in detail the varied experiences of the examination week. Suffice it to say that the questions, according to the girls’ opinions, were “harder than ever,” and the candidates were none too hopeful when they gave up their papers, after a couple of hours’ work upon each subject; somehow just the questions they had made sure Miss So-and-So would set had not been included, and the very things they had fondly hoped would not be required had been given a prominent place! But that is an experience common to all time, and by no means peculiar to the girls of that Fourth Form.
The arithmetic examination was almost the last on the list. And most of the girls who had expended their energies on previous subjects looked with dismay at the long list of difficult examples. Olive glanced at the others to see what they thought of it, but Elsa was beginning to write steadily, and Monica, catching her eye, gave her a reassuring smile; it seemed rather a nice paper to her. Amethyst, who was no mathematician, was biting the end of her penholder and looking frantic.
Olive was just going to dip her pen in the ink and begin to inscribe her name elaborately on the top sheet of the ruled paper before her, when something made her look in Lily Howell’s direction just in time to see an ugly expression of malignant jealousy sweep over her face, as she observed Monica steadily applying herself to answer the questions which appalled her rival.
“There’ll be awful ructions in that quarter, if Monica comes out top, as I do hope she will,” soliloquised Olive, and then a reproving glance from Miss Churchill warned her to get on with her work.
For an hour no sound was heard but the scratching of pens and the rustling of paper, except now and then when a long-drawn sigh escaped the lips of one or other of the girls, as she realised her inability to solve a difficult problem.
By that time Olive had come to the end of her resources and could do no more, so she fastened her papers together and then began to look about at the other girls with a view to seeing how they were getting on. Her desk was in one corner of the room, and Monica (who long since had had to be moved to a distance from Olive, on account of whispering) was in the centre of the second row quite near the front. Lily Howell and her ally, Maggie Masters, were next to each other in the opposite corner from Olive’s.
A glance at Monica showed her to be still hard at work over her paper, so Olive turned her attention elsewhere. As she looked across at Lily, their eyes met, and Olive turned away quickly, for she did not want to get into trouble with Miss Churchill, who might think they were communicating with each other in some way; but a peculiar expression she had seen in Lily’s light grey orbs impelled her to look again a few seconds later, and then what she saw horrified her, and her eyes seemed rooted to the spot! For Lily was positively making copious use of the contents of some little note-book or paper, (Olive could not detect which) that was cleverly hidden, on the desk, by Maggie’s pencil-box, from Miss Churchill’s view.
“The horrid, mean, hateful sneak!” Olive, in her anger and contempt could not find enough opprobrious epithets. “She’s got all her tables, and a whole lot of hints copied out, I do believe, and of course, now she’ll go and beat Monica; but I’ll be even with her! A nice scrape she’ll get into!” And Olive chuckled to herself at the thought of what was in store. “Perhaps she’ll be expelled, and a good job, too. I’d better nudge Gipsy, and make her see, in case the sneak goes and declares she didn’t cheat.”
Olive glanced over into the other corner again, but—nothing wrong was to be seen! All trace of the notes had vanished, and Lily was neatly ruling her manuscript paper as if no such thing as cheating had ever entered her head!
“Oh, you wretch!” And Olive felt as if she could have done anything to her, so exasperated was she to think that she had been “done”; for not once again, during the time that remained for the arithmetic paper, did she catch a glimpse of the missing paper. At length the gong sounded, and whether completed or not, the girls had to fasten their sheets together and hand the papers in to Miss Churchill.
They were glad enough to stretch their cramped limbs, and let their tongues loose during the recreation that followed, in discussing the questions and comparing their answers. Olive, of course, told Monica what she had seen Lily doing, and how vexed she was to think she could not prove it to Miss Churchill, if she were to tell her.
“Oh, let it be,” said Monica, who loathed telling tales; “she’ll be so mad if you tell, and she’ll be sure to declare it wasn’t a crib.”
“I shall tell if she comes out top.”
And Monica could not persuade her otherwise.
“We shall know to-morrow,” said Olive as they entered the school door.
But in less than five minutes after the words had escaped her lips, part of the truth had come to light, and it happened in this way.
Lily (who was under the impression that her neat little scheme for aiding her memory had been quite unobserved by any one except Maggie, who had benefited by it, too), already, in imagination, saw her own name at the head of the list. But she thought it would be just as well to make assurance doubly sure, by securing Monica’s downfall, if it were possible, in case she should be perilously near. So, as she passed up to the desk with her paper, taking care to be the last girl who filed out, she very quietly dropped her little paper of tables, etc., on the floor of Monica’s desk, in such a manner as to make it appear as if it had slipped off Monica’s lap, when she rose to go out.
“Now we shall be quits!” was her amiable thought, as she went with the rest into the playground. She bound Maggie, with promises of many good things, to absolute secrecy, and returned to the classroom to await developments.
The girls had no sooner taken their places than they became aware that something was wrong! The head-mistress Miss Buckingham came in with a very stern expression on her face, and Miss Churchill seemed on the verge of tears.
“I am grieved to tell you that there is a cheat—yes, a cheat,” and Miss Buckingham repeated the words with scornful emphasis, “amongst you girls of the Fourth Form. Miss Churchill found this paper, containing arithmetical tables and various other information, under one of the desks when you had left the classroom. I desire that girl, who has sought to secure a good place in the examination list by such despicable means to stand up in her place.”
A furtive glance from Lily, who was as white as a ghost, revealed the fact that the head-mistress was looking straight at Monica, and the real culprit breathed freely, and the colour came back to her cheeks. She did not know that Olive’s gaze was riveted on her, or she would not have felt so easy in her mind as she did!
“Come, stand up,” repeated Miss Buckingham, and Monica began to feel uncomfortable. Why did the head-mistress look so persistently at her, when it was Lily Howell who was the culprit.
“Well, I am sorry she will not confess it herself,” said the calm, cold voice of the head of the school; “but Monica Beauchamp is the cheat!”
“I’m not!”
“She isn’t!”
The two disclaimers burst simultaneously from the lips of Monica and Olive, who were aghast at this fresh piece of trickery, and could not imagine how it had come to pass.
“Olive Franklyn, sit down. Now, Monica, what have you to say in defence of yourself?”
“I know nothing whatever about it; I would scorn such a mean trick. Miss Churchill knows I would,” and Monica looked reproachfully at the little mistress, who had been a sad and silent spectator, so far.
“I cannot believe you would cheat, Monica, but——” and she paused significantly.
Meanwhile, Olive had been frantically trying to make Monica see her, but failing to do so, she asked permission to speak, and told what she had seen on Lily’s desk.
But both Lily and Maggie stoutly denied having had anything of the kind in their possession, and, as no other girl seemed to have observed it, Miss Churchill was reluctantly compelled to think that Olive, in championing her friend’s cause, was drawing on her imagination. The figures and words on the paper were all in printing hand, so that no one’s writing was recognisable.
No more light being thrown on the matter by further questioning, Miss Buckingham left the classroom, saying: “I shall not decide upon the punishment to be given until to-morrow morning, by which time I sincerely hope that the girl, whose conscience must be accusing her, will be ready to make confession.”
In her own mind, Miss Buckingham was of opinion that Monica Beauchamp was entirely innocent; and she could not but feel that suspicion strongly rested upon Lily Howell, although the latter had feigned entire ignorance of the matter; for her changing colour belied her words.
The truth was arrived at in a singular and indisputable way after all.
When correcting the arithmetic papers, late that afternoon, in the teacher’s room, Miss Churchill found some most astonishing blunders in Lily Howell’s calculations. For some time she was mystified, and then it dawned upon her what had happened.
“Why, the girl’s cubic measure is all wrong. No less than three times she has put down 1278 cubic inches instead of 1728, when reckoning a cubic foot. It is curious how she came to transpose the numbers? I wonder——”
She hastened across the hall to Miss Buckingham’s room, and upon looking at the “crib,” she saw, with a curious sense of satisfaction (for she felt sure Monica was innocent) that underneath “Solid or Cubic Measure” the first line, was
1278 cub. in. = 1 cub. ft.
“Found out!” she murmured, and recrossing the hall, she told two of the other teachers, who were also correcting papers, what she had discovered, and bade them look at the paper, and compare it with Lily’s sums.
They both agreed it was a very clear case, and when, upon examination, Monica was found to have calculated her cubic inches rightly each time, no further proof of Lily Howell’s guilt was needed.
Little did that individual dream of what awaited her on the morrow, when she retired to rest that night, rather well satisfied with the success which she thought she had achieved.
The girls waited breathlessly next morning for Miss Buckingham’s verdict; many had been the conversations about it, and very varied were the punishments suggested. Every one was sure that, somehow, Lily would be proved guilty, most of them thinking that she would voluntarily confess.
Monica, knowing she was quite innocent, felt no real fear, although she was not at all sure that she would escape punishment, for she was under the impression that Miss Buckingham had believed her to be the culprit.
Every one was amazed when they heard the conclusion of the matter. In a few terse words the head-mistress explained how the truth had been brought to light; and no one felt that undue punishment was being meted out to Lily Howell when she was informed that after that term she would not be allowed to return to the Osmington High School.
“Not only for the using of unfair and forbidden means in order to secure a good place in the examination list, but far more on account of the wicked intention to bring discredit and punishment upon an innocent fellow-schoolgirl.”
Miss Buckingham’s words were stern and uncompromising, and poor unhappy Lily Howell cowered beneath her glance.
It was an unfortunate ending to the term, and the girls who came off victorious in the examinations did not feel the same satisfaction as they would have done if nothing of the kind had occurred. Monica, of course, was first in arithmetic; Amethyst secured a similar place in English history, and although she was beaten in geography, she did not mind so very much, as the honours fell to her friend Elsa.
A few days more, and the huge pile of buildings which constituted the Osmington High School was left in the charge of caretakers, for governesses and pupils alike had scattered in every direction to enjoy the long, summer vacation.