CHAPTER V

CINDERELLA AT SCHOOL

THE all-important missive ran as follows—

"DEAR MADAM,

"I am writing to ask, as a personal favour, that you will allow me to defray the cost of your grandchild's education at Farley House School, at least until her father returns home. I make this offer in gratitude for the noble service your son rendered mine in saving his life in South Africa, the story of which doubtless you have already heard from Dr. Carteret.

"Hoping to receive a favourable reply,

"Believe me, dear madam,

"Yours very truly,

"JAMES CROFTON."

"Oh, Grannie!" exclaimed the child, throwing down the letter in her excitement. "How simply too lovely! Do write and say 'Yes.'"

"I hate accepting favours, child," was the proud reply. "It goes against the grain sorely, but—"

"Grannie, dear," interrupted the little girl in her eagerness, "I don't see that you need mind. Why, he asks it as a favour of you."

"That is only Sir James's nice way of putting it," said Mrs. Russell, who was a very keen and far-seeing old lady.

"Then you'll put it nicely to him back again, won't you, Grannie dear, and say 'Yes'?"

And to little Ella's delight, be it said, her grandmother wrote off that self-same day accepting with gratitude Sir James Crofton's generous offer.

Farley House was situated some four or five miles distant, and was the very school, in fact, which Gertie and Marcia Snowden attended.

The Christmas holidays were now drawing to a close, and with them Dr. Carteret's visit to the Hall. Before leaving, he bade good-bye to Mrs. Russell and Ella, the child being actually in tears at the idea of his going away.

The four young Snowdens' regret was very real also, the boys declaring it "a horrid shame" that he had to leave so soon.

A few days after his departure there came to Rose Cottage a large parcel, delivered by the London carrier, and addressed to "Miss Ella Russell."

Eagerly the child cut the string, and when the paper was removed, she discovered a cardboard box, on which these words were inscribed—

"CINDERELLA,

"From her FAIRY GODMOTHER."

The little girl's face was rosy with anticipation, and actually Grannie had a pink flush on her cheeks. Molly, who happened to be in the room, was equally interested and curious. The progress of undoing all the folds of paper was rather slow, owing to Ella's crippled arm, but at last it was accomplished. And there, disclosed to view, was a pretty, warm navy blue frock. Not only this, but there was a muff and a fur besides, and, to crown it all, a scarlet tam o' shanter.

Surely there never was such a happy little "Cinderella!"

Grannie was now looking quite white, but she uttered no word until Molly had gone out of the room.

Then she said, and, alas! there was no pleasure in her tones—

"I'm afraid, Ella, this has come from Mrs. Snowden. I never thought that she would so far insult me and mine."

All Ella's joy faded for the while at the sight of her grandmother's displeasure. Then again her little face lighted up.

"No, no, it isn't," she cried, suddenly making a correct guess. "It's Dr. Carteret; I know it is. He said I was to picture him as my Fairy Godmother, and I just laughed at him."

Grannie's face cleared.

"You don't mind him, Grannie dear, do you?" went on the child pleadingly. "I'm sure he only meant it kindly, and, you see, he can't forget about father saving his life."

"No, child," said Mrs. Russell; "I don't mind Dr. Carteret so much, if it is really he who has sent you such a useful present. We must try and find out."

But this was easier said than done, for many a long day passed before Mrs. Russell found out for certain who was Ella's Fairy Godmother.

* * * *

"Mother wants to know, Cinderella, if your grandmother will let us drive you to school to-morrow."

It was Kenneth who spoke, he and Rupert having called at Rose Cottage one morning on purpose to make the request. Ella looked delighted. The term had already commenced, but her arm had only just been pronounced sufficiently mended, for her to attend school.

"Oh, Ken, how jolly!" exclaimed Ella. "I'll run in and ask Grannie this very minute."

With this, the child disappeared from the doorway, very soon returning with the necessary permission. Mrs. Russell had considerably unbent, since her first coming to Berryland, towards the Snowden family, and was gradually becoming almost sociable.

"You must be ready at a quarter to nine, sharp," said Kenneth, well-pleased at Mrs. Russell's ready "Yes."

"All right," replied Ella, "I'll be punctual. I do wonder what school will be like," she went on; "I expect it will be very strange to me at first."

"Oh, you'll soon get used to it," said Kenneth good-naturedly.

"I suppose I shall—I wish you and Rupert went to Farley House School as well; what fun it would be!"

"I fancy I see myself," retorted Rupert, "at a Dame school. Why! Girls' lessons are play to ours."

But Ella, who had learnt to take Rupert's teasing for what it was worth, shook her head.

"I don't think they are all 'play,'" she said; "some girls are quite as clever as boys. Whereabouts is your school?" she added, for the little girl was intensely interested in all that concerned the Snowden family.

"Oh, further up the High Street," replied the boy; "it's a great red building, called Farley College."

Ella looked quite impressed. "And what is Farley House like?" she added, turning to Kenneth.

"You'll see for yourself to-morrow," was the answer; "if I tell you everything now, you won't have any 'surprises.'"

After a little further chat, the two boys bade good-bye, and it being near their dinner hour, they hurried off homewards.

Punctually at a quarter to nine on the following morning Ella stood on the doorstep of Rose Cottage, awaiting the arrival of the wagonette. Presently it turned the corner of the road, and a few minutes later, Ella, with the aid of Giles the coachman, had mounted into her place, a comfortable seat, beside little Marcia.

The journey betwixt school and home was usually accomplished by train, and little Ella was now the proud possessor of a season-ticket for the journey.

With a final wave to Grannie, who was watching from the window, the child started off, light of heart, en route for school.

"I say, Giles," said Rupert, who was sitting on the box beside the coachman, "I wish you'd let me drive for a bit; I can manage all right, you know."

"No, no, thank'ee, Master Rupert," was the decided reply, "I don't trust the reins in your hands, not if I knows it."

"What rubbish!" ejaculated the boy irritably. "When I can drive as well as you."

Giles took no notice of this remark, however. Presently, before coming to a somewhat steep hill, the coachman drew up. He could see that one of the straps required a little attention. Giving the reins into Rupert's hands for a moment, he stepped down to see to the matter. Just as the man was thinking of getting up again into his seat, Rupert, seized with a spirit of mischief, flicked the mare with the whip. She immediately started off.

"All right, Giles," shouted Rupert with a laugh, "we'll wait for you at the bottom of the hill."

Giles's face was a study of mingled wrath and alarm.

"Rupert!" cried Kenneth, "What are you doing, you silly young donkey?"

"Donkey yourself!" was Rupert's quick retort. "I'm only going a little way, just for a lark!"

But, alas for Rupert's "lark," a whizzing motor presently came along behind, and passed them with a loud "toot-toot."

Now it chanced that Peggy the mare was decidedly fresh that morning, and, the sudden noise startling her, she dashed off with tremendous speed.

The girls began to look very frightened, as indeed they had good reason to be.

Kenneth, without another word, presently slipped out of his seat, and scrambled, as quickly as possible, into Giles's place.

"Take the reins, Ken, for goodness' sake!" murmured Rupert, now thoroughly scared. "She's beyond me altogether."

Now, Kenneth was a great lover of animals, and was on the best of terms, not only with his beloved Bruno, but with every horse in the stables. Taking the reins from Rupert's grasp, he did his best to pull up the runaway, but at first without any avail. Then he tried the art of soothing words—

"Come, come, Peggy," he said, speaking to the mare in tones he had often used to her in the stable. "What's the matter, old girl? Steady there, steady!"