For the School Colours

  CHAPTER VII

  Miss Hopkins

  Though Avelyn, as a weekly boarder, was not quite in the innermost heartof the Silverside clique, she was nevertheless considered one of theelect. Her room-mates rubbed it into her that she _was_ a boarder, andas such must be very thankful for her privileges. On the whole, theytreated her rather well. They included her as much as they could in whatfun was going on, helped her to plait her hair, showed her their privatetreasures, and shared their occasional boxes of chocolate impartiallyround the dormitory. Avelyn felt that she was living two lives: onebegan at nine o'clock on Monday morning, and lasted till four on Friday,and the other occupied the intervening time. Each circled independentlyin its own orbit. The school life was quite fascinating and absorbing,especially now she was getting used to it. It was jolly to sit on thebeds in the dormitory and compare experiences with the other girls. Theygenerally had something interesting to talk about, especially IrmaRidley. Irma had an inventive mind, and a keen appetite for romance. Sheread every novel she could get hold of, though only a very few, andthose of a strictly classical character, were allowed in the Silversidelibrary. She had a good memory, was an excellent raconteuse, and wouldsit in the gloaming and tell thrilling tales to anybody who was preparedto listen. To her room-mates she supplied the place of a monthlymagazine of fiction. It was Irma who first started the rumour about MissHopkins. The girls were dressing for supper when she made her amazingstatement.

  "Do you know," she remarked, pausing with her hairbrush in her hand, "Iverily believe that Hopscotch either already is, or is just about tobe--engaged!"

  If Cupid himself had darted in through the window, bow and arrows inhand, the occupants of the Cowslip Room could not have been moreelectrified.

  "What!"

  "Hopscotch?"

  "You're ragging!"

  "It's the limit!"

  Miss Hopkins, the mathematics mistress, had never struck the school as alikely subject for romance. She was middle-aged, nippy, determined,brusque, and a disciplinarian. There was a slight burr in her speech,acquired north of the Tweed, and she had a habit of saying, "Come, come,girrls!" She had never yet been seen without her pince-nez, and it was atradition that she slept in them. In the minds of her pupils she wasindissolubly intertwined with decimals, equations, and problems ofgeometry. They connected her with triangles, not hearts, though ofcourse there was no telling where the little blind god might suddenlyelect to shoot.

  "I'm not ragging!" declared Irma earnestly. "I tell you I really meanit. What's more, I've seen him!"

  "When?"

  "Where?"

  Irma enjoyed an audience. She sat down on Janet's bed with the pleasantconsciousness that she had gripped her listeners.

  "I went into the study this afternoon to fetch Miss Kennedy'sfountain-pen, and I found Hopscotch there--alone with a gentleman. I'mafraid I surprised them."

  "Did they look embarrassed?"

  "Well, they both stopped talking, and stared at me while I hunted aboutfor the pen. _I_ felt embarrassed!"

  "What's he like?"

  "Middle-aged, with a moustache that's growing grey--not bad-looking onthe whole."

  "It would be very suitable," decided the others.

  They were trying to readjust their mental attitude towards Miss Hopkins,and transfer her from the mathematical plane to the sentimental. To doso required a wrench, but it was decidedly thrilling. They all suddenlybegan to remember symptoms of incipient romance on the part of themistress.

  "She wears a locket on her watch-chain. It's probably got his photoinside," decided Ethelberga.

  "And she always snatches up her letters in a frantic hurry," added Janetsagely.

  "Has she known him long?" asked Avelyn.

  Irma nodded doubtfully.

  "I should think it's probably quite an old affair. They may have beenboy and girl together."

  "Perhaps they've been separated for years and years, and have only justcleared up their misunderstandings," suggested Laura.

  "Was he holding her hand?" asked Janet.

  "N--no, I can't say he was holding her hand; but then, you see, I'dknocked at the door first, and she'd said 'Come in!'"

  "That would give them time," agreed Janet.

  A silence followed, and the girls looked pensively at one another. Theatmosphere seemed charged with romance. The ringing of the first bellfor supper brought them back with a disagreeable thud to reality. Theyhad not yet changed their dresses, and a wild scramble ensued. Whether amistress in the bonds of Cupid would overlook such details asunpunctuality was an experiment too risky to be tried. They passed ontheir information in the course of the evening, and by 11.30 nextmorning even the day girls had digested the news.

  Miss Hopkins could not understand the changed attitude which the schoolsuddenly adopted towards her. There was an undercurrent of somethinginexplicable. The girls gazed at her in form with a kind of tenderinterest. If she toyed with the locket on her watch-chain, they visiblythrilled. Once, when she dropped a letter from her pocket, Irma, whopicked it up, actually blushed as she handed it back. When the twelvegates of Jerusalem were mentioned in the Scripture lesson, Laura Talbotasked whether a jasper stone was ever used as an engagement ring inHebrew times. Being a practical, sensible sort of person, Miss Hopkinsdecided that the war--that national bond of union--was bringing her intocloser touch with her pupils. The girls, meanwhile, were discussing apossible wedding present, and wondering who would be her successor asmathematical mistress.

  Several of them were already beginning to work little good-bye souvenirsfor her. They hustled them out of the way in a hurry if she chanced tocome into the room. For at least a fortnight nothing happened, andspeculations were rife.

  "Why doesn't she wear an engagement ring?" asked Mona Bardsley.

  "Doesn't want to publish it yet, I suppose," opined Minnie Selburn.

  "Do you think she'll be leaving at Christmas?"

  "One can never tell."

  "Has Tommiekins said anything?"

  "Not a word."

  One Thursday afternoon an event happened. Irma, looking out at thefifth-form window, watched a masculine form walk up the drive and ringthe front-door bell. She instantly identified him with the stranger whomshe had seen in the study with Miss Hopkins.

  "I knew him again in a moment," she assured the others. "I never forgetfaces, and his was unmistakable."

  The flutter among the boarders was immense. It was known that MissHopkins was in the study interviewing the gentleman. Little DaisyGarratt had been in the first-form room reworking a returned sum, whenthe maid had entered and announced: "Mr. Judson is in the study, please,m'm," and Miss Hopkins had risen immediately from her desk, and toldDaisy she might go, an opportunity of which that round-eyed junior hadinstantly availed herself.

  So his name was Judson! It was not highly romantic, indeed it suggestedgold paint; but after all, what's in a name? Everybody decided at oncethat he had brought the engagement ring, and that Miss Hopkins, blushingand conscious, would wear it upon the third finger of her left hand attea-time. They began to search about for suitable speeches ofcongratulation. Several daring spirits, heedless of conduct marks, hungabout the hall, hoping to catch a glimpse of Mr. Judson as he saidgood-bye. There was competition for front places at the windows thatoverlooked the steps. Twenty interested pairs of eyes watched hiscoat-tails disappear down the drive. There was much speculation as towhy he had not stayed longer, and what he was carrying inside his littleblack bag. When Miss Hopkins came in to tea an electric wave ofexcitement surged round the room, then broke in disappointment. Her lefthand was ringless. She seated herself in the most matter-of-factmanner, and began to eat bread and butter and talk about the last airraid in London.

  Before preparation it had all leaked out. Mr. Judson was traveller for alarge firm of scholastic publishers, and on both occasions he had calledto interview Miss Hopkins about some new arithmetic books. She haddecided that they were suitable, and had ordered copies for the
fifthand sixth forms. That was the whole of the business. In the minds of theboarders Cupid flew out of the window with a bang. He left blankdesolation behind.

  "Were there only arithmetic books inside that little black bag?" askedMona disgustedly.

  "It's too sickening when I'd nearly finished my pin-cushion cover!"broke out Minnie Selburn.

  "Mine was to be a nightdress case!" lamented Alice Webster.

  The inmates of the Cowslip Room, as originators of the whole romance,felt particularly flat. In disconsolate spirits they went to bed. It wasnot nice to be told by Adah Gartley that they were silly geese, whoseheads were filled with a pack of sentimental rubbish. Their injuredfeelings seethed, rallied, and finally bubbled up.

  "There's something disagreeable about Adah!" remarked Janet tartly.

  "It isn't only Adah, it's Joyce and Consie," corrected Laura.

  "They deserve something for their nastiness!" ventured Ethelberga.

  "Something strong!" agreed Avelyn.

  Irma, half undressed, paused in the act of pulling off her stockings,and made the important suggestion:

  "I say, let's play a trick on the prefects!"

  "What a blossomy idea!"

  "They richly deserve it!"

  "It would be just top-hole!"

  "What could we do?"

  "Ah, that's just the question, my good child!" said Laura, putting athoughtful finger to her forehead. "There's an art in ragging. It oughtto be done delicately. We don't want clumsy tricks, such as apple-piebeds. As for booby traps, they're vulgar and dangerous; I wouldn't soilmy fingers with making one. It must be something that will annoy them,but not harm them or anybody else. I haven't got a brain wave yet, butperhaps ideas may come."

  "Suppose we go and reconnoitre," proposed Avelyn.

  "A very jinky notion. We might get an idea on the spot."

  The four prefects slept in the Violet Room at the end of the passage.They were allowed to sit up later than the rest of the school, and atthis moment were downstairs finishing some preparation. It was an easymatter, therefore, to visit their quarters. Laura, Irma, Janet,Ethelberga, and Avelyn made a dash down the passage, turned up the gas,and began an inspection. The Violet Room was quite the prettiest of thedormitories; it was also the largest, and had a round table and foureasy chairs with comfortable cushions. The table was spread with awhite cloth, on which were set forth four cups and saucers, a tin ofcocoa, a small basin of sugar, and a plate of biscuits. The prefectswere working overtime for an examination, and were allowed this specialindulgence to refresh their tired brains before they went to bed. Theyboiled a tin kettle on a gas ring, and brought it upstairs with them.They considered their nightly cocoa party one of their greatestprivileges.

  "Looks jolly comfortable!" sniffed Avelyn, regarding the preparationswith envy.

  "It's well to be a prefect!" agreed Janet.

  "Shall we eat the biscuits?" suggested Irma.

  "Certainly not!" replied Ethelberga.

  Laura had taken up the cocoa tin, and was plunged in thought.

  "I've got it!" she announced suddenly. "I don't mean the tin, but anidea. Wait half a second for me!"

  She dashed back to the Cowslip Room, and was away several minutes. Whenshe returned, her face beamed triumph.

  "They won't enjoy their cocoa to-night!" she chuckled. "I've mixed twoteaspoonfuls of Gregory's powder with it! It will be a nice littlesurprise for them, won't it?"

  "Sophonisba! I should rather think so! I say, let's turn down the gasand scoot. We shall have Miss Kennedy coming along in a minute."

  The prefects came upstairs at ten o'clock, carrying their kettle. Theyretired into their dormitory and shut the door. Two scouts from theCowslip Room, arrayed in dressing-gowns and bedroom slippers, presentlytiptoed down the passage, and listened outside. The door was thick, anddenied them the full benefit of the conversation, but they caught suchwords as "cheek", "disgusting", and "abominable", so retreatedsatisfied. They expected a storm next morning, but, rather to theirsurprise, the prefects took no notice of the matter. Adah had decidedthat it would be undignified to make a fuss.

  "It will fall flat if we say nothing!" she urged.

  "We'll just jolly well lock up our cocoa tin in future, though!"announced Consie indignantly.