CHAPTER III

AN AMAZING CONFESSION

The Fifth Form watched the new girl with secret but close interest for the next two or three days, expecting to see some kind of exhibition of the wickedness that had given her such an unenviable reputation. But for the first few days nothing at all startling happened. The new girl seemed quite harmless, as Ida Preston declared to a little circle of Fifth-formers who had gathered in their classroom and were awaiting the arrival of their form mistress, Miss Bennett.

"Sulky thing, I call her," said Betty. "Not a word to anyone, yet doesn't seem at all shy--just sullen. Nat isn't very keen on her as a study-mate, I believe."

"Fancy not knowing any French!" chimed in Nora Miles. "She can't take French with us."

"No. She's going into the Third Form for French," replied Irene. "But she's coming into the Fifth for all the other subjects, so I suppose she can't be such a dud. Wonder if she's clever!" Irene, though she pretended not to care, was secretly very proud of the position she had held as head of the class for the last two or three years, and it would be a severe blow to her were she to find herself in any other place but the top when the class examination list was posted up.

"I tell you what I'm most curious about, girls," said Glenda. "I'd give my last pot of gooseberry jam to know why she was expelled from her school last term."

Glenda's voice was naturally clear and distinct, and in the interest of the subject she had forgotten to speak in low tones. Every word carried quite distinctly to the ears of the very girl they were discussing, for Monica was just entering the classroom in Nat's company. They first became aware of her entry when a voice came in prompt answer to Glenda's speech:

"Would you really like to know? Because I can tell you if you would," and they looked up to find Monica calmly regarding them from the doorway. They gazed back for a moment or two without answering. Monica advanced into the room, her hands twisted in her belt in lieu of pockets, her attitude one of careless defiance. Yet she looked such a slender slip of a girl for her fifteen years. She halted and spoke again, in hard matter-of-fact tones.

"I cheated in the exams. It was the geometry paper in the Cambridge Junior, and I carried a geometry book into the exam room under the front of my tunic. They caught me copying out a theorem which formed one of the questions."

Had she announced that she had committed a murder her listeners would not have been more horror-struck.

"Cheated in a public exam!" gasped Glenda. "What did they do when they found out?"

"Turned me out of the room," replied Monica hardily. "And of course that was the end of the exam for me."

"How awful you must have felt!" said Betty, and Ida inquired, her eyes wide and wondering: "Weren't you awfully sorry afterwards?"

"I should hope so," Irene struck in with something approaching a sneer.

Monica shrugged her shoulders. "No, why should I be sorry? Everyone cheats some time or other. It isn't in cheating you make the mistake, it's doing it so that you are found out."

"If that's how you feel about it," said Glenda with scorn, "I wonder Prinny had the cheek to expect us to associate with a girl of your principles. I said so all along."

"Here comes Miss Bennett," broke in Nat hurriedly from the doorway, and the Fifth hastily sought their desks.

Miss Bennett had been looking forward to the passing-up of her new form, for they had the reputation of being a steady, hard-working lot; "swots" they were dubbed, half in contempt, half in admiration, by some of the other forms. It is true they were also inclined to be self-complacent and rather addicted to pluming themselves on their cleverness, but as Miss Bennett pointed out to Miss Moore, one couldn't have everything and it would be a relief to be in charge of a hard-working form after the previous harum-scarum, happy-go-lucky, hoydenish Fifth. Miss Moore had agreed, adding with a sigh that she was afraid the new Fourth were going to follow in the steps of Miss Bennett's old form.

The first period that morning was devoted to a Scripture lesson, and while the majority of the class conscientiously endeavoured to trace the genealogy of the numerous kings of Israel and Judah, the new girl fidgeted restlessly in her seat, now gazing round the room at the pictures hanging on the walls, now scribbling aimlessly on her desk with her pencil. She certainly did not appear to be giving much attention to the lesson, but Miss Bennett, for some reason or other, chose to take no notice of her. Just as the bell went and Miss Bennett was rising to go out, Monica appeared to wake up. Her hand shot up suddenly and as Miss Bennett, pausing on her way to the door, looked inquiringly at her, she said in a breath: "Please, Miss Bennett, how do we know Solomon was a poor man?"

Miss Bennett frowned. "Don't waste my time, Monica. You must know Solomon was one of the richest of all the Jewish kings," she said sharply and swept from the room.

For a moment there was silence in the room. Then Glenda observed to the class in general: "What on earth is that new kid babbling about?"

The "new kid" looked up from the little holes she was punching in her desk with the point of her pencil and answered for herself. "I thought Miss Bennett ought to know. Solomon must have been either very poor or very mean, or he would have had a bed to himself. Why, we only read this morning that he slept with his fathers."

The Fifth was just digesting this when Miss Andrews arrived on the scene, but by now they had become aware that there certainly was something peculiar about the new girl. Had she really meant to be cheeky to Miss Bennett or was she merely very stupid? They watched her stealthily as the Latin lesson began. Latin, strange to say, was a subject that was disliked by most of Miss Andrews' scholars, who voted it difficult and uninteresting and a horrid grind for examination purposes; there were even some who went so far as to declare it the bugbear of their school life.

Now they were called upon, one after the other, to quote certain lines which they had memorized from their readers, and with a few hesitations most of the class acquitted themselves well. When it came to Monica's turn she rose readily enough in her seat and declaimed what was evidently meant to be:

Cæsar adsum iam forte, Hannibal adsum adhuc.

but which sounded, as she pronounced it, very like:

Cæsar 'ad some jam for tea, Hannibal 'ad some 'addock.

The class giggled. Miss Andrews, who had a gentle, peace-loving disposition, looked at her new pupil for a moment, puzzled and undecided what to make of her, then said reprovingly: "I presume you have been taught the old style of pronunciation, Monica. You will have to learn our less antiquated methods as quickly as you can."

The lesson proceeded, the class struggling in the quagmires of the Second Punic War. The passage they were construing was not an easy one. Even Irene found herself hopelessly tied up in knots. Yet another shock was in store for the Fifth that morning, for when Miss Andrews for the first time called upon the new girl to see what she could do, Monica stood up and translated with an unruffled ease and fluency that left the rest of the class gasping; with unerring skill she pounced upon correct tenses and cases; grammatical difficulties that had puzzled the class were solved without hesitation, and the jigsaw pieces slipped smoothly into their proper places. Miss Andrews, delighted at the discovery that her new pupil was proving to be a decided acquisition to the Latin class, let her continue, which Monica did with apparent enjoyment, and had finished the page and was half-way down the next before the relentless bell proclaimed the close of the lesson.

By the end of that week the chief topic of conversation in the Fifth was the newcomer, Monica Carr. The girls could not make up their minds whether to be annoyed and angry at her unexpected ways, or rather thrilled. So far she had done nothing desperately wicked, it is true, though the Fifth were constantly wondering what she would do or say next. They decided that she was clever in a way, in spite of her ignorance of French. Sometimes she was so inattentive in class that she had to be severely reprimanded by the teachers; sometimes she would work as hard as anyone, particularly during Latin lessons, when she earned much praise from the delighted Miss Andrews, who had at last found a pupil who apparently shared her love for that classical language. Not infrequently was she seized with a spirit of devil-may-care mischief, when she would sit in her desk with her arms folded and her legs tucked under her seat and ask all manner of absurd questions of a harassed mistress, setting traps for her, baiting her, pitting her sharp wits against hers, and seemingly quite as impervious to snubs and reprimands as she was to praises. Secretly the girls were a little surprised at the leniency of the mistresses towards the newcomer and her changeable moods.

On one occasion the Fifth had entered their classroom to find the blackboard adorned with the following witticisms on the names of some of the girls:

Q. Why walked Nora Miles? A. Because Ida Preston. Q. What gave Lorna Payne? A. Because she Rhoda Hunter. Q. Why came Elizabeth Forth? A. To see Nellie Barthe.

They were in the act of reciting them aloud and laughing loudly over them, when Miss Bennett entered.

Miss Bennett was annoyed, for she was the martinet of the school and her sense of humour was not highly developed. She was still more annoyed when, on turning the blackboard to the other side in the middle of the lesson, there was displayed to view in extremely large printing that hackneyed old saying: "Suffer fools gladly," and she coldly announced that unless the blackboards were cleaned and ready for use when the mistress entered for the first period of morning or afternoon lessons the girls would not be allowed to enter the classroom till a mistress was actually present.

No one discovered the identity of the adorner of blackboards, but the Fifth, though they enjoyed a good laugh in class, were indignant at this threat to curtail their liberty and took care to see that in the future their blackboards were swept, without being garnished.