CHAPTER XX
SUSPICIONS
"What did she say?" eagerly asked a knot of girls, as Viola Green madeher appearance the morning after her interview with the head ofGlenwood school.
"Humph!" sniffed Viola, "what could she say?"
"Did she send for Dorothy?" went on the curious ones.
"I have just seen her step out of the office this minute and shecouldn't see me. Her eyes wouldn't let her."
"Then she didn't deny it!" spoke Amy Brook. "I could scarcely makemyself believe that of her."
"Ask her about it, then," suggested Viola, to whom the term brazenwould seem, at that moment, to be most applicable.
"Oh, excuse me," returned Amy. "I never wound where I can avoid it.The most polite way always turns out the most satisfactory."
"And do you suppose she is going to leave school?" asked Nita Brant,timidly, as if afraid of her own voice in the matter.
"She told me so last night," said Viola, meekly. "I don't blame her."
"No," said a girl with deep blue eyes, and a baby chin, "I do not seehow any girl could stand such cuts, and Dorothy seemed such a sweetgirl."
"Better go and hug her now," sneered Viola, "I fancy you will find herrolled up in bed, with her red nose, dying for air."
"It is the strangest thing--" demurred Amy.
"Not at all," insisted Viola, "all sweet girls have two sides to theircharacters. But I am sick of the whole thing. Let's drop it."
"And take up Dorothy again?" eagerly asked Nita.
"Oh, just as you like about that. If you want to associate with girlswho ride in police wagons--"
"Well, I do want to!" declared Nita, suddenly. "And I don't believeone word against Dorothy Dale. It must be some mistake. I will askher about it myself."
"If you wish to spare her you will do nothing of the kind," said Viola."I tell you it is absolutely true. That she has just this minuteadmitted it to Mrs. Pangborn. Don't you think if it were a mistake Iwould have to correct it, when the thing has now been thoroughlyinvestigated?"
It was plain that many of the girls were apt to take Nita's view. Theyhad given the thing a chance to develop, and they were satisfied nowthat a mistake had been made somewhere. Of course the clever turnsmade by Viola, kept "the ball rolling."
"There's the bell!" announced Amy, reluctantly leaving the discussionunfinished. This was the signal for laying aside all topics other thanthose relative to the curriculum of Glenwood, and, as the girls filedinto the chapel for prayers, more than one missed Dorothy, her firstmorning to absent herself from the exercise.
Miss Higley was in charge, Mrs. Pangborn also being out of heraccustomed place.
Directly after the short devotions there was whispering.
"Young ladies!" called the teacher, in a voice unusually severe, "youmust attend strictly to your work. There has been enough laxdiscipline in Glenwood recently. I will have no more of it."
"Humph!" sniffed Viola, aside, "since when did she buy the school!"
Miss Higley's eyes were fastened upon her. But Viola's recentexperiences had the effect of making her reckless--she felt quiteimmune to punishment now.
"Attend to your work, Miss Green!" called Miss Higley.
"Attend to your own," answered Viola under her breath, but the teachersaw that she had spoken, and knew that the remark was not a polite one.
"What did you say?" asked the teacher.
"Nothing," retorted Viola, still using a rude tone.
"You certainly answered me, and I insist upon knowing what you said."
Viola was silent now, but her eyes spoke volumes.
"Will you please repeat that remark?" insisted Miss Higley.
"No," said Viola, sharply, "I will not!"
Miss Higley's ruddy face flashed a deep red. To have a pupil openlydefy a teacher is beyond the forgiveness of many women less aggressivethan Miss Higley.
"You had better leave the room," she said--"take your books with you."
"I won't require them," snapped Viola, intending to give out theimpression that she would leave school if she were to be treated inthat manner by Miss Higley.
"Get at your work, young ladies," finished the teacher, fastening hereyes on her own books, and thus avoiding anything further with Viola.
To reach her room Viola was obliged to pass Dorothy's. Just as shecame up to number nineteen Dorothy opened the door. Her eyes were redfrom weeping, and she looked very unhappy indeed.
"Oh, do come in Viola," she said, surprised to see the girl before her."I was going to you directly after class--I did not know you were out."
"I cannot come now," answered Viola. "I must go to my room!"
"Is there anything the matter?" inquired Dorothy, kindly.
"Yes," replied Viola, using her regular tactics, that of forcingDorothy to make her own conclusions.
"Is your mother worse?"
"I, oh--my head aches so. You must excuse me Dorothy," and at thisViola burst into tears, another ruse that always worked well with thesympathetic Dorothy.
The fact was Dorothy had spent a very miserable hour that morning,after her talk with the president, and she had finally decided to putthe whole thing to Viola, to ask her for a straight-forwardexplanation, and to oblige her to give it. But now Viola was introuble--Dorothy had no idea that the trouble was a matter of temper,and of course her mother must be worse, thought Dorothy. How glad shewas, after all, that she did make the sacrifice! It was much easierfor her to stand it than to crush Viola with any more grief!
Crush her indeed! It takes more than the mere words of a just schoolteacher and more than the pale face of a persecuted girl to crush sucha character as that which Viola Green was lately cultivating.
And as Viola turned into her room she determined never to apologize toMiss Higley. She would leave Glenwood first.
Meanwhile what different sentiments were struggling in Dorothy's heart?She had bathed her face, and would go into the classroom. She might bein time for some work, and now there was no use in wasting time overthe trouble. She would never mention it to Viola, that poor girl hadenough to worry her. Neither would she try to right it in any way.After all, Mrs. Pangborn believed in her, so did Edna and Molly, and aletter from home that morning told of the recovery of Tavia's mother.Perhaps Tavia would be back to school soon. It might be hard to meetthe scornful looks of the other girls, but it could not possibly be ashard as what Viola had to bear.
So thought our dear Little Captain, she who was ever ready to take uponher young and frail shoulders the burdens of others.
But such virtue plainly has its own reward--Dorothy Dale entered theclassroom at eleven o'clock that morning, with peace in her heart.Viola Green was out of the school room and was fighting the greatestenemies of her life--Pride, mingled with Jealousy.
It had been that from the first, from the very first moment she set hereyes on Dorothy Dale, whose beautiful face was then framed in theominous black lining of the police patrol.
It had been jealousy ever since. Dorothy had made friends with thebest girls in Glenwood, she had been taken up by the teachers, she hadbeen given the best part in the play (but Viola could not stand that)and now that the play had been abandoned on account of the death ofMrs. Panghorn's father, and that Dorothy had been disgraced, what moredid Viola crave?
Was not her vengeance complete?
But the girls were beginning to doubt the story, and those who did notactually disbelieve it were tiring of its phases. The promisedexcitement did not develop. All the plans of the Rebs were dead, andto be a member of that party did not mean happiness,--it meant actualdanger of discipline.
Viola was too shrewd not to notice all this, and to realize that herclientele was falling off alarmingly.
Would she really leave Glenwood? The wrong done Dorothy seemed to berighting itself in spite of all her devices, and that girl, disgracedthough she stood in the eyes of many, seemed happier at the moment thanViola herself.
"I wish I had gone home when I had father's last letter," reflected thegirl, looking in her mirror at the traces of grief that insisted onsetting their stamp upon her olive face. "But now, of course that oldcat Higley will make a fuss--Oh, I wish I never had seen these crackedwalls. I wish I had gone to a fashionable school--"
She stopped suddenly. Why not get away now to that swell school nearBoston? She could surely set aside her mother's foolish sentimentabout Glenwood,--just because she had met Mrs. Pangborn abroad and hadbecome interested in this particular school for girls.
Viola had enough of it. She would leave--go home. And thenperhaps--she might get to the Beaumonde Academy.