Monitress Merle, Angela Brazil [top rated ebook readers .TXT] 📗

One afternoon, in the musical appreciation class, the two had partly patched up past squabbles, and, for a wonder, were sitting side by side. The subject was 'Handel,' and for one of the illustrations Miss Mitchell called upon Merle to play the celebrated 'Largo.' She went through her performance quite creditably, took her music, and turned from the piano. Then she saw that during her absence Kitty had commandeered her seat next to Iva. For a moment Merle stood with a look of the blankest consternation, not knowing where to go, till Mavis beckoned and made a place for her, into which she thankfully slipped, squeezing her sister's hand surreptitiously, and feeling there was no friend in all the world so staunch as Mavis.

"If you wouldn't worry so over everybody, you'd get on better, dear!" advised the latter.

"I can't help caring! I wasn't born calm. It all matters so very much to me! What's the use of anything unless you care? You'd better swop me for a nice, little, tame, harmless sister guaranteed never to squabble even if people pull her hair, and always content to sit in the background everywhere!"

"She'd be very uninteresting!" laughed Mavis, bestowing a kiss upon
Merle's apple cheek. "I think I prefer to keep you, thanks!"

"Thunderstorms and all?"

"So long as they clear the air, certainly! But we expect to have sunshine afterwards, please!"

Miss Mitchell intended to wind up her course of lessons on musical appreciation with a concert among the pupils, and certain of them had been bidden to play or sing. Naturally those on whom the choice fell went through agonies in the matter of practising. After hearing so much about great composers and the proper interpretation of their works, it seemed almost a liberty for schoolgirls to venture to give their rendering, and all felt that their performances would be subjected to decided criticism.

"It's the audience that will make me nervous!" fluttered Merle. "If I could play my piece when I'm alone and in the right mood and get a gramophone record taken of it that could be put on at the concert, I shouldn't mind. It would be rather fun sitting in a corner and listening to my own playing. Something like seeing my own ghost, wouldn't it?"

Mavis, Merle, Muriel, and Edith were all down for piano solos, Beata was to bring her violin, and Nesta, Iva, and Kitty were to sing. They would all do their best, but none had reached a very high level in the matter of attainment. Miss Mitchell, with memories of the splendid talent mustered at St. Cyprian's College in her own schooldays, felt that the concert would be a most modest affair.

"I wish we could get one or two good performers to come and help us!" she suggested.

"Durracombe isn't at all a musical place," admitted Miss Fanny. "There really isn't anybody whom we could ask. Mrs. Carey used to play, but she's out of practice and I'm sure she wouldn't venture before a roomful of schoolgirls."

"It would be rather an ordeal, I own."

About ten days before the event was to take place Muriel Burnitt had a tea-party at her own home to which she invited Miss Fanny, Miss Mitchell, and the elder boarders, asked them to bring their music, and went through all the programme of the little concert. It, in fact, answered the purpose of a dress rehearsal.

Mavis and Merle had not been included in the invitation and they were very much hurt.

"Muriel asked Beata, only she couldn't come. I know because Romola told me so. She even asked Babbie Williams!"

[Illustration: SHE HAD BROUGHT HER WONDERFUL STRADIVARIUS VIOLIN]

"It's most mean of her to miss us out!"

"When we're playing solos, too!"

The boarders talked tremendously about the pleasant evening they had had, and how very much they had enjoyed themselves.

"Muriel's aunt will be staying with her next week, and she's going to persuade her to sing at the concert!" said Iva. "She has a beautiful voice, and it will give things such a lift. Miss Mitchell is as pleased as Punch about it, and says that's just what we want. We ought to have one or two musical stars to make it go."

Muriel, who felt she had scored by securing a singer, took up a rather lofty attitude and made herself so objectionable that Merle raved in private, and even gentle Mavis was ruffled. They poured out their grievances at home.

"What's the date of the concert?" asked Mrs. Ramsay. "The 17th? Well, I have an idea! No! I don't mean to tell you now in case my scheme doesn't come off."

"What is it, Mummie? I'm curious."

"That's my secret! Take my advice and don't worry any more about Muriel.
Things will probably turn out even in the end."

In spite of coaxing Mother refused to explain herself further, and it was only when a few days had gone by, and they had almost forgotten the incident, that one morning she opened a letter, read it, and clapped her hands in triumph.

"I've some lovely news for you! Cousin Sheila is coming to stay with us on the 16th, and she's actually bringing her friend Mildred Lancaster, the famous violinist! You know they both went to St. Cyprian's and were in the same form with Miss Mitchell. She'll be so pleased to meet them again! Cousin Sheila says Miss Lancaster promises to play at your school concert. Isn't that an honour? It will be something for you to tell Miss Mitchell, won't it? We'll ask her and Miss Fanny and some of the girls to tea while our visitors are here!"

This was indeed a delightful surprise. The name of Mildred Lancaster was one to conjure with in musical circles. She had just completed a most successful tour in Australia and America, and had won great applause. She was booked to give a recital in Exeter on the 15th, so that she would be in the neighbourhood and able easily to come on to Durracombe. She made her headquarters at Kirkton, so Mrs. Ramsay explained, but travelled much about the country playing at concerts. She was to be married in the spring to her old friend, Rodney Somerville, to whom she had been engaged for some years, but she did not intend to give up her music, and hoped still to make frequent public appearances.

"They're to have a flat in town," read Mother from Cousin Sheila's letter. "I'm so glad it's settled that way, because I want Mildred to be happy, yet it would be a wicked shame if she flung her talent to the winds, as some girls do when they marry. She'll have her own little home and yet go on with her career. I call it ideal!"

Mavis and Merle danced off to school simply brimming over with their news. It certainly had the desired effect. Miss Mitchell was very much thrilled at the prospect of meeting her old friends, and highly appreciated the privilege of a violin solo at the concert. The girls were, of course, most excited, except the performers, who nearly had hysterics at the prospect of playing before so great a musical star.

"I shall leave my violin at home!" wailed Beata.

"Nonsense! You'll find nobody more kind and encouraging than Miss Lancaster," said Miss Mitchell. "It isn't the great artists who find fault—they understand the difficulties only too well—it's the carping critics who can't perform themselves and yet think they know all about it! Do your best and no one will expect you to do any more!"

It was a great day for Mavis and Merle when their visitors arrived. They were fond of Cousin Sheila and welcomed her on her own account. With her companion they readily fell in love. Mildred Lancaster was a most charming personality, and although she had been so fêted on concert platforms, she was absolutely simple and unaffected in private life. She had brought her wonderful Stradivarius violin, upon which she always played, and she took it out of its case and allowed the girls to admire its graceful curves, and its fine old varnish.

"It's my mascot!" she said. "I've had it all my life, and if anything were to happen to it I believe I'd give up music! It's been a great traveller, and always stays in my berth on sea voyages."

To say that the Ramsays were proud to escort Miss Lancaster and her Stradivarius to 'The Moorings' hardly describes their elation. A few parents and friends had been asked, so that with the school there was quite a large audience. It was arranged to take the girls' part of the programme first, and the visitors' solos afterwards, a proceeding for which the young performers were devoutly thankful. They got through their pieces very creditably, especially Beata, who won warm praise from Miss Lancaster.

"That child's artistic and will make a musician if she goes on with it.
She puts herself into her playing."

"They're rather a remarkable family. Her sister is studying singing in London," purred Miss Pollard, pleased to have one of her pupils thus noticed.

The treat of the afternoon was when Mildred Lancaster began to play, and her entire mastery of her instrument was a revelation to most of the girls. They had never before had the opportunity of listening to such glorious music.

"The gramophone will sound like a ghost after this, however good the records!" declared Iva. "I wish I could hear her again."

"Miss Fanny's bringing fourteen of you to tea to-morrow—hasn't she told you yet?" exulted Merle.

Muriel had also been included in the invitation in spite of her previous discourtesy.

"It hurt you to be left out, so don't inflict the same feeling on anybody else!" urged Mrs. Ramsay when her younger daughter demurred. "Two blacks never make a white! The best way of 'getting even' with people is to do them a kindness. That stops the whole thing and sets it into a different groove. Ask Muriel if her aunt will come too. She sings beautifully, and perhaps she will bring her music."

The Ramsays' 'Musical At Home' was remembered for a long time by those girls who were present at it. Mother was a clever hostess, and she managed to put all her guests at ease and raise that magic atmosphere of enjoyment which only certain people seem able to create. The drawing-room looked charming with late flowers in its vases and a blazing log fire. Miss Mitchell, having snatched a private chat with her two old school friends, was radiant. Jessop, who had heard full details of the occasion, had insisted on coming over to bake the cakes, and hovered in the background like a beneficent deity, sending in fresh batches of hot crumpets. There were chocolates in little silver bonbonnières and even crackers, though it was not yet Christmas. Aunt Nellie was there and enjoyed the music, and Dr. Tremayne and Dr. Ramsay joined them before the performance was over.

"Wasn't it a triumph? I think we know how to give a party!" rejoiced
Merle in private afterwards.

"Yes, when Mother pulls the strings!" agreed Mavis.

Yule-tide

The end of the term was, to use Merle's expression, 'a little thin.' Miss Mitchell did not seem disposed to make any very great fuss about it, and merely set aside the last hour of the last afternoon for the play which the boarders had prepared. She suggested, indeed, that the day-girls might get up some tableaux, but as no one evinced any enthusiasm the matter dropped.

"Tableaux are rather tame unless you have most beautiful dresses," sniffed Muriel.

"It really isn't worth our while bothering over them," agreed Merle.

They were decidedly disappointed to have no chance to exhibit their own dramatic talents, but they were 'sporting' enough to give a hearty clap to the boarders' performance, a really magnanimous attitude on the part of Mavis, who had lent a pale pink silk dress to Nesta, and watched candle grease dropping down the front of it as that heroine pretended to investigate a smuggler's cellar with a light.

"Never mind! We'll have some acting of our own in the hols," she whispered to Merle, who sat next to her.

"Rather! And it will beat this simply into fits, though of course I shan't tell them so."

The holidays this Christmas were to compensate for every disagreeable thing that had happened in the course of the term. First and foremost, and this ought to be written in big letters like a poster heading, BEVIS WAS COMING TO STAY. Mrs. Ramsay had invited him for a three weeks' visit to Bridge House, and he