A Patriotic Schoolgirl Part 27

"That's all right, then," said Mrs. Trafford. "I'm sorry I can't be with you myself to-day. Get some sweets at the cafe and have some ices if you like. I must hurry away now to my committee. Hodson won't keep you waiting long; I've told her to get ready."

Left alone, the girls grumbled a little at the necessity of taking an escort with them.

"At fourteen and sixteen we surely don't need a nursemaid," sniffed Marjorie. "It's a perfectly ridiculous rule that we mayn't walk ten yards by ourselves, even when we're out for the afternoon. We might be interned Germans or conscientious objectors if somebody always has to mount guard over us. What does the Empress think we're going to do, I wonder?"

"Ask airmen for autographs, or s...o...b..ll soldiers!" twinkled Dona.

"Oh, surely she's forgotten those old crimes now!"

"I wouldn't be sure. The Empress has a long memory. Besides, the rule's for everybody, not only for us."

"I know. Patricia was horribly savage last week. An officer cousin was over in Whitecliffe, and she wasn't allowed to go and meet him, because no one could be spared to act chaperon."

"Some friends asked Mona to tea to-day, and the Empress wouldn't let her accept. We only go to Auntie's every fortnight because Mother specially stipulated that we should."

"I'm jolly glad she did. It makes such a change."

"I wish Hodson would hurry up!"

Hodson, the housemaid, took a considerable time to don her outdoor garments, but she proclaimed herself ready at last. She was a tall, middle-aged woman in spectacles, with large teeth, and showed her gums when she talked. She spoke in a slow, melancholy voice, and, to judge from her depressed expression, evidently considered herself a martyr for the afternoon. She was hardly the companion the girls would have selected, but they had to make the best of her. It would be amusing, at any rate, to go in to Whitecliffe. Marjorie had her camera, and wished to take some photographs.

"I've just two films left," she said, "so I'll use those on the way down, and then get a fresh dozen put in at the Stores. Let us go by the high road, so that we can pa.s.s the kiosk and ask about Eric."

The attendant at the lemonade stall smiled brightly at mention of the little fellow.

"I saw his pram go by an hour ago, and ran out and gave him your last parcel," she informed them. "You'll very likely see him down in Whitecliffe. He left his love for you."

"I hope we shan't miss him," said Dona.

Round the very next turn of the road, however, the girls met the invalid carriage coming up from the town. It was loaded as usual with many packages, over the top of which Eric's small white face peered out. He waved a gleeful welcome at the sight of his fairy ladies.

"I've read all the stories you sent me," he began, "and I've nearly finished chalking the painting-book. I like those post cards of fairies.

I've put them all in the post-card alb.u.m."

"He thinks such a lot of the things you send him," volunteered Lizzie.

"His ma says she doesn't know how to thank you. It keeps him amused for hours to have those chalks and puzzles. He sings away to himself over them, as happy as a king."

"I'd like to take his photo while I've got the camera with me," said Marjorie. "Can you turn the pram round a little--so? That's better. I don't want the sun right in his face, it makes him screw up his eyes.

Now, Eric, look at me, and put on your best smile. I'm just going----"

"Wait a moment," interrupted Dona. "Look what's coming up the road.

You've only two films, remember!"

A contingent of German prisoners were being marched from the station to the camp on the moors. They were tramping along under an escort of soldiers.

"Oh, I must snap them!" exclaimed Marjorie. "But I'll have Eric in the photo too. I can just get them all in."

She moved her position slightly, and pressed her b.u.t.ton, then, rapidly winding on the films to the next number, took a second snapshot.

"The light was excellent, and they ought to come out," she triumphed.

"How jolly to have got a photo of the prisoners! Eric, you were looking just fine."

"We must be getting on home," said Lizzie. "I've a lot of cleaning to do this afternoon when I get back. Say good-bye to the ladies, Eric."

The little fellow held up his face to be kissed, and Marjorie and Dona hugged him, regardless of spectators on the road.

"You dear wee thing, take care of yourself," said Dona. "Call at the kiosk next time you pa.s.s, and perhaps another parcel will have arrived from fairyland."

"I know who the fairies are!" laughed Eric, as his perambulator moved away.

Escorted by the melancholy Hodson, the girls pa.s.sed a pleasant enough afternoon in Whitecliffe. They visited several shops, and had as good a tea at the cafe as the rationing order allowed, supplementing the rather scanty supply with ices and sweets. It was much too early yet to return to Brackenfield, so they suggested making a detour round the moors, and ending up at school. Hodson acquiesced in her usual lack-l.u.s.tre manner.

"I'm a good walker, miss," she volunteered. "I don't mind where you go.

It's all the same to me, as long as I see you back into school by six o'clock. Mrs. Trafford said I wasn't to let you be late. I've brought my watch with me."

"And we've got ours. It's all right, Hodson, we'll keep an eye on the time."

It was a relief to know that Hodson was a good walker. They felt justified in giving her a little exercise. They were quite fresh themselves, and ready for a country tramp. They left the town by a short cut, and climbed up the cliff side on to the moors. Though they knew Eric would not be there that afternoon, they nevertheless determined to visit their favourite cove. It was an excellent place for flowers, and Dona hoped that she might find a few fresh specimens there.

The girls had reached their old trysting-place, and were gathering some cranesbill geraniums, when a figure suddenly climbed the wall opposite, and dropped down into the road. To their immense amazement it was Miss Norton. She stopped at the sight of her pupils and looked profoundly embarra.s.sed, whether at being caught in the undignified act of scrambling over a wall, or for some other reason, they could not judge.

"Oh! I was just taking a little ramble over the moors," she explained.

"The air's very pleasant this afternoon, isn't it?"

"Yes," replied Marjorie briefly. She could think of nothing else to say.

Miss Norton nodded, and pa.s.sed on without further remark. The girls stood watching her as she walked down the road.

"What's Norty doing up here?" queried Marjorie. "She's not fond of natural history, and she doesn't much like walks."

"She's going towards the village."

"I vote we go too."

They had never yet been to the village, and though Elaine had described it as not worth visiting, they felt curious to see it. It turned out to be a straggling row of rather slummy-looking cottages, with a post office, a general shop, and a public-house. Miss Norton must have already pa.s.sed through it, for she was nowhere to be seen. Dona stood for a moment gazing into the window of the shop, where a variety of miscellaneous articles were displayed.

"They've actually got Paradise drops!" she murmured. "I haven't bought any for months. I'm going to get some for Ailsa."

Followed by the faithful Hodson, the girls entered the shop. While Dona made her purchase, Marjorie stood by the counter, staring idly out into the road. She saw the door of the post office open, and Miss Norton appeared. The mistress looked carefully up and down the village, then walked hurriedly across the road, and bolted into "The Royal George"

opposite. Marjorie gasped. That the august house mistress of St.

Elgiva's should visit an obscure and second-rate public-house was surely a most unusual circ.u.mstance. She could not understand it at all. She discussed it with Dona on the way back.

"Wanted some ginger pop, perhaps," suggested Dona.

"She could have got that at the shop. They had a whole case of bottles.

No, Dona, there's something funny about it. The fact is, I'm afraid Miss Norton is a pro-German. She was sympathizing ever so much with those prisoners who were being marched into camp. She may have come here to leave some message for them. You know it was never found out who put that lamp in the Observatory window; it was certainly a signal, and I had seen Norty up there. I've had my eye on her ever since, in case she's a spy."

"She can talk German jolly well," observed Dona.