The Youngest Girl in the Fifth: A School Story, Angela Brazil [most popular novels of all time .TXT] 📗
- Author: Angela Brazil
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Netta had any amount of presence of mind, and did not at all object to be spokeswoman. She rapidly explained that they had had an accident, and were anxious to replace some broken articles at their own expense. The shopman opened the box, and pulling out the shavings in which the china was packed, laid the various pieces upon the counter. The girls were aghast at the extent of the damage. Several cups[42] were smashed to atoms, the teapot had lost its lid, and the cream jug its handle.
"Have you any more like them?" asked Netta anxiously.
"Fortunately we have, miss," replied the assistant. "It is a pattern we usually keep in stock, and—yes, I can match them all. I can repack the box and send it out by the six-o'clock van."
Gwen heaved a great sigh of relief. Miss Roscoe would receive her parcel that night, and would be no wiser for what had happened.
"We shall be very glad if you will do that," she said. "And will you please tell us what we have to pay extra?"
The man took the bill which had been enclosed in the box and rapidly glanced over the items.
"Let me see—teapot, cream jug, three cups, four plates—the sugar basin is all right—ah! but this saucer is cracked! Sixteen and six, seventeen and nine—it will be exactly one pound two and sixpence, please."
Gwen felt ready to sink through the floor. She had very little notion of the value of things, and could hardly believe that china cost so much. She looked blankly and helplessly at Netta, who after a moment's pause met the emergency.
"We haven't the money with us this afternoon, I'm afraid, but we'll bring it to-morrow without fail. Will that do?"
"Yes, thank you, miss, I dare say it will be all right if you give me the name."
"Miss Gwen Gascoyne," said Netta promptly.[43]
"At Rodenhurst, I suppose?"
"Yes."
That ended the transaction, so the two girls left the shop.
"Well, Gwen, my child, you've let yourself in for a nice little bill!" laughed Netta, when they found themselves in the street.
"It's impossible! I can't pay it!" gasped Gwen, with hot tears trickling down her cheeks. "What am I to do?"
"Turn along this quiet road immediately, and don't stand mopping your eyes in the middle of High Street! Everybody's staring at you. I believe the policeman's going to ask if you're lost!"
And seizing her schoolmate by the arm, Netta hustled her away from the unwelcome attention which she was attracting. The road led to the promenade, where the girls found an unoccupied bench, and sat down to talk matters over.
"One pound two and sixpence!" ejaculated Gwen, with a sob between the words.
"And five shillings we promised Emma, so that makes twenty-seven and six," agreed Netta briskly. "Of course it was you who broke the china, so it's your business to pay for it, but I'll go shares in squaring Emma."
"I can't—I can't ever pay it! Oh, I wish I was at the bottom of the sea!" wailed Gwen.
"Don't be an idiot! It must be managed somehow. How much have you got at home?"
"I've about fifteen shillings in my money-box."
"Well, look here, I'll lend you ten, and that will[44] just do it. We'll each give Emma half a crown to make her hold her tongue, and we'll settle up Parker, and then the thing will be done with. You may pay me back as soon as you can."
"You're a white angel!"
"No, I'm not. I'm anything but a saintly person. I'm ready to help a chum out of a hole, though. I'll bring the money to school with me to-morrow morning. And now, for goodness sake, do wipe your eyes, and put your hat on straight, and try and make yourself look respectable enough to walk down the promenade. I want to go home."
"So do I," said Gwen. "What's the time? I mustn't miss the next bus."
"It's twenty past five."
"Oh, horrors! And the bus goes at half-past! Can I possibly catch it?"
"I'll say goodbye if you're going to pelt along the promenade. I hate rushing."
"Goodbye! And thank you a hundred thousand times!"
It was only as Gwen was scurrying along the asphalted walk that it struck her that, after all, Netta was getting rather easily out of the scrape. Of course she, Gwen, had knocked over the box of china, but it was Netta who had taken her into Miss Roscoe's room, and who was therefore in a sense responsible for the whole affair. Well, she was glad enough to find help on any terms; she did not know how she was going to repay Netta the money, but that might wait. It was sufficient for the present that the tea set could be replaced without any fear of discovery.[45] She hurried breathlessly on, fearing to miss the omnibus; taking any short cuts she knew, and breaking into a run when she reached the Ditton Road. She could see the omnibus standing at its starting-place, and hoped it might be just possible to arrive in time. As she tore along the footpath, she noticed a boy a few yards in front of her who was running equally quickly, or even faster.
"I wonder if he's trying to catch it too?" she thought, and envied his longer legs and freedom from hampering skirts. "Oh! it's actually going! What a shame!"
The boy made a spurt, and shouted and whistled after the retreating omnibus, but it was not of the slightest avail; neither the conductor nor the driver took any notice. Realizing the hopelessness of his efforts, the boy stopped and saw Gwen, who came panting up.
"No use, it's gone too far!" he exclaimed. "It's an atrocious swindle! Those men never look. I suppose you were trying to catch it too?"
"Yes. I always go by the 4.20."
"So do I; so it's a nuisance to miss this. We're out of luck to-day."
Gwen knew the boy quite well by sight, as for the last few weeks he had been a fellow passenger morning and evening in the omnibus. He was a jolly-looking fellow, about her own age or perhaps a little older, with a brown skin and very twinkling, brown eyes. He wore a grammar-school cap, and carried some books, so she could guess his occupation in Stedburgh.[46]
GWEN MEETS DICK
"I believe the next goes at half-past six," he remarked ruefully. "But you won't catch me waiting for it I shall walk."
"So shall I," agreed Gwen. "Walking's better fun any time than standing waiting," and she suited her action to her words. The boy kept by her side, evidently not unpleased to have a companion to talk to.
"You're one of the Gascoyne girls, aren't you?" he began. "I see the whole lot of you every day cramming into the bus. Aren't you the one they call Gwen?"
"I believe I am."
"It's you who's generally left something behind, or lost something, or got yourself into some kind of a pickle; then the one with her hair turned up scolds."
"That's Winnie," chuckled Gwen.
"Those two youngsters are cheeky imps. Tell them they'll get their heads smacked some day!"
"They often do at home."
"Serve 'em right. I'm glad to hear it. How many more are there of you at home?"
"Only two."
"Quite enough, I should think!"
"Thank you! You've asked all about my family, but you haven't told me who you are."
"Why, I thought you knew. My name is Dick Chambers. My father is Dr. Chambers, who's just taken Dr. Harrison's practice."
"At North Ditton?"
"Yes, we only came six weeks ago. Dr. Harrison has gone to London."
"I knew Dr. Harrison," said Gwen. "He came to [47]see us when we had scarlatina, and gave us some loathly medicine!"
"Dad can do a little in that line!" laughed Dick. "He once made me drink asafœtida when I was a kid, to cure me of sampling bottles in the surgery."
"Is it nasty?"
"It smells like a defunct rat, so you can imagine the taste."
"Ugh!"
"He doesn't give such bad things to his patients, though. There's some quite decent stuff in the dispensary, and sometimes the bottles are coloured pink, especially if they're for girls. I'm going to be a doctor when I grow up."
"I suppose you'll help your father. Have you any brothers and sisters?"
"Not a single one."
"Oh, I should think that's rather slow!"
"I don't find it so. There's always plenty to do."
"Do you like North Ditton?"
"Oh, yes, pretty well! It's nicer than Essington, where we lived before."
"Do you like the Grammar School?"
"Fairly. The chaps are rather a rotten set, and the Head's unspeakable."
Chatting thus, Gwen found the four miles to North Ditton wonderfully short ones, but when she had said goodbye to her new friend, and was trudging along the road to Skelwick by herself, she had time for many unpleasant reflections. At one blow this afternoon, she had sacrificed not only all the money in her savings box, but had got into debt as well—a debt which[48] she had no present prospect of paying. It was most aggravating to have to empty her private bank; the contents were the accumulation of several little gifts that had been sent by her uncles and aunts on her last birthday, and even so far back as last Christmas. How would she explain, if Beatrice asked what had become of her money? She groaned as she splashed, recklessly through the puddles left by the morning's rain. She could foresee many difficulties ahead, especially at Christmas time.
The family had finished tea when she reached home, and Beatrice, grown uneasy at her absence, greeted her with upbraidings.
"Where have you been, Gwen? Why didn't you come with the others? Winnie nearly lost the bus with going back to look for you. You know quite well you mustn't stay behind like this. Answer me at once! Where were you?"
"I went along the promenade with Netta Goodwin, then I missed the 5.30 and had to walk all the way home. That's where I've been, and you may scold as much as you like—I don't care."
"Oh, Gwen!" exclaimed Winnie.
"I don't. I'm not going to be ordered about by Beatrice, and treated as if I were a baby. I'm surely old enough to manage my own affairs!"
Gwen was tired out with her six-mile tramp, and hungry, and very miserable, or I think she would not have talked in so lawless and foolish a strain.
Beatrice gazed at her in amazement. Gwen had often been naughty, but had never before ventured thus to wave the flag of defiance.[49]
"I shall have to get Father to speak to you," she replied gravely. "He's gone over to Hethersedge to take the temperance meeting. He started at five o'clock. You'd better have tea now. Nellie has made you some more, in the little blue pot, and we kept you a potato cake, though you don't deserve it. Father will be very astonished and sorry when I tell him what you've said."
Gwen ate her meal with a big lump in her throat. She had not meant to rebel openly, but she had lost her temper, and the words had flashed out. Beatrice's threat alarmed her. Through all the tangled skein of Gwen's character there ran, like a thread of pure gold, the intense passionate love for her father, and the desire to preserve his good opinion. She could not bear to see the grieved look that came into his eyes when he was forced to reprove her. What indeed would he think of her when he heard Beatrice's account? She pushed the potato cake away, feeling as if she could not swallow a morsel.
Beatrice was putting Martin to bed. Better follow her now, and try to patch up peace. She ran upstairs and met her sister coming out of the little fellow's bedroom, candle in hand.
"Bee! I'm awfully sorry for what I said just now! I didn't really mean it I can't think what possessed me!" gulped Gwen.
"I try to do my best for you all. It's hard work sometimes to be eldest," said Beatrice, and there was a quiver in her voice too. "If only Mother were here."
"Don't!" said Gwen huskily. "I miss her so dread[50]fully still. Oh, Bee! If only you wouldn't tell Father about this!"
"If I don't, will you promise faithfully always to come straight home from school with Winnie and Lesbia, and never go anywhere without asking?"
"On my honour!"
"Then I won't trouble him. He's enough worries, poor darling, without adding any more to them! I only wish I could save him some of those he already has!"
Early next morning, long before Lesbia was awake, Gwen got up very quietly, and unlocked her
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