Judy of York Hill Part 22

Breakfast was usually a rather quiet time, but to-day there was such a clattering and chattering that Miss Langton rang the bell and asked for "Lower voices, please." Judith's neighbour, Marjory, grinned.

"This isn't anything to what it will be by to-morrow," she said.

Even the maids seemed infected by the spirit of gaiety, but if they moved more briskly than usual perhaps it was because they knew that there would be many extra tables for them to serve at luncheon-time.

By nine o'clock the noise in the corridor was deafening. Old Girls could evidently make a row when they chose. Such cries of joy on meeting their special pals! Such questionings and laughings! Such greetings with the Staff who forgot all about their waiting forms in their desire to welcome So-and-So and to hear the latest news of some one else! Miss Martin gave them ten minutes' grace before the bell rang for prayers, and then the Old Girls joined the Sixth and took their places in Big Hall once more. How happy Miss Meredith looked as the hymn was sung.

Judith found it difficult to listen to the reading of the lesson; she wished she had eyes in the back of her head to see the Old Girls with the Sixth. Nancy had told her before prayers that Evelyn Coulson, last year's Captain, had arrived, and Penelope Adams, looking perfectly stunning, and Dr. Mary Burgess, who had been in command of a Woman's Hospital Unit in Serbia. Judith wanted to see her most of all, and she wondered if Aunt Nell were with the others.

Prayers over, they went back to their form rooms, the Old Girls crowding into the Sixth-Form room for a talk from Miss Meredith; but Miss Meredith was detained for a few moments and they had a chance for reminiscences.

"Do you remember Miss Watson's plaid skirt? My dear, she has on the identical skirt now and her hair is just the same, only more so."

"Do you remember the time, Kathryn, you had to learn the 116th Psalm for Miss Meredith, and thought she said the 119th?" said a plump young matron with the contented look which belongs to mothers of happy little families. "_I_ remember if you don't for you made our nights and days miserable hearing you, and then it was all a mistake."

"Do you remember the first debate we had on woman's rights? Gracious me, we thought we were advanced thinkers and no mistake."

"Do you remember the time Grace Wilton tried to trick the Infirmary nurse by pouring her dose of castor oil down a rubber tube attached to a bottle hid in her blouse, and how she poured it down the tube all right, but not into the bottle? She _was_ in a mess."

"And do you remember Alice Roberts, when we had the measles epidemic, rubbing her chest with a stiff hairbrush and complaining of headache so that when nurse looked at her she sent her off to the Isolation House--to join her special pal?"

The Sixth hung on the outskirts of the crowd drinking in stories of the good old days, and then there was a sudden quiet in the room; Miss Meredith had returned and was standing by the desk looking at them so tenderly, so understandingly, that every girl knew that the Head Mistress had come in to them with the prayer in her heart that she might be able to give a message of strength and inspiration.

Such prayers are answered.

After the lesson the Old Girls moved away in little groups down to the Big Hall where they were to have their annual business meeting. A great deal of business was despatched during the next hour; notices of motion were given for the next meeting, the reports of various committees were read and approved, the question of this year's administration of the scholars.h.i.+p fund discussed with much interest, and suggestions made as to the form which this year's gift to the School should take. The President got through the business on hand as quickly as possible, for, as she pointed out, they had a real York Hill wedding on their hands, and the meeting adjourned to decorate Big Hall for the ceremony. They left it a bower of beauty. Some of the Old Girls had motored out to the country and brought great ma.s.ses of white and purple lilac, and sweet-scented syringa, and big jars held the roses that the bride loved.

Judith and the rest of the "Jolly Susan" crew had begged to be allowed to help since they were Miss Ashwell's own cubicle girls, and they had a joyous time unpacking flowers which kept arriving, speculating as to the bride's gown, and wondering what they would feel like if they were going to be married that very afternoon.

"Next year won't be a bit the same," mourned Judith as she handed festoons of green to Nancy who was decorating the front of the platform.

"Miss Ashwell will be gone and Catherine and Eleanor. I don't see whatever we'll do."

"Oh, it'll be up to us," laughed Nancy, stepping back to admire the handiwork.

"Us?" said Judith, aghast. "Why, I never thought of that before. I suppose we will be in the Sixth Form."

"Well, you're going to be," said Nancy with conviction. "I don't know whether I'll manage it or not. Oh, we'll have heaps to do next year, never fear. Let's go and dress now so we'll have plenty of time to arrange the last things for the supper."

Jane and Josephine were discussing the possibility of the bride appearing in a real wedding gown. To Judith's disappointment the popular vote seemed against it, since the wedding had been so hurriedly arranged. But when a little later Miss Ashwell looking her loveliest came down the aisle on Miss Meredith's arm, the most romantic of her romantic audience was satisfied with her truly bride-like appearance.

Some of the girls afterwards could tell any number of details about the way the orange blossoms fastened her veil, and how the long train was lined, and whether her shoe buckles were of silver or of brilliants, but Judith had eyes only for the lovely face with its expression of serene and radiant happiness.

Judith had hoped that she would have a chance for a last word of good-bye, but outside on the lawn the Old Girls and Staff crowded around the bride and monopolized her, and the School gave itself up philosophically to an orgy of ice-cream and bride's cake. Then in some magical way the bride was spirited away to change for the journey, and all Judith could hope for was a word at the very end or at least a piece of the bride's bouquet which was tossed out of the carriage. But she seemed doomed to disappointment. Miss Ashwell was gone without a word and Judith turned and fled to her room. To her surprise she found Elise, Miss Meredith's maid, just leaving the "Jolly Susan."

"I have put a note and parcel for you on your dressing-table, Miss Benson," said Elise. "Mrs. Phillips said I was to be most particular to bring it to you the minute she was gone."

"Mrs. Phillips"--Judith looked bewildered and then caught the smile on Elise's face--"Thank you, Elise," she said breathlessly, and rushed into her cubicle. There lay a letter and a tiny parcel. The letter first:

JUDY DEAR--

If I had had bridesmaids I would have asked you to "stand up with me." You have been a loving, loyal little friend, and David and I want you to wear this little pin as a token of our grat.i.tude to our "messenger."

Remember I am still Your friend, ELIZABETH ASHWELL PHILLIPS.

For a moment a suspicious moisture blinded Judith's eyes; then curiosity urged her to open the little white box. "What a _darling_ pin!" she breathed as the lid flew back and disclosed three beautiful pearls exquisitely set in a plain white gold bar. "And what a darling she is--and if it had to be some one I'm glad it's the Major."

[Ill.u.s.tration: THEN CURIOSITY URGED HER TO OPEN THE LITTLE WHITE BOX]

This ever-to-be-remembered day still held another great event--the Reunion supper. So Judith dried her eyes and went out to the lawn again where she found the Decorating Committee of the New Girls hard at work.

It was such a warm evening that permission had been given to have the supper out on the board tennis court. Benches, which were to be used as tables, were being carried from Big Hall and placed in a square on the boards; rugs and sofa cus.h.i.+ons were placed beside them, for Form Five intended to sit cross-legged at their feast in true Eastern fas.h.i.+on. The benches or tables were decorated with pretty paper napkins, and every new girl had brought down anything she possessed in the way of a flower vase, and these Marjorie and Frances were filling with flowers donated by the day girls. Judith found that she could help here; her special task was the pasting of a label bearing the owner's name on the bottom of each vase. Althea and Marian with three or four helpers were tying Chinese lanterns over the electric lights which Brodie had strung for them across the boards. Sally May and her committee were engaged in putting the last touches to the place cards, for true to her nature Sally May had refused to be hurried and the cards were still to be finished.

Judith felt her heart beginning to thump uncomfortably as she thought of the toast she had to answer. Sally May was to be toastmistress and to Judith had been given the honour of replying to the last toast--the toast to "The School." Judith was glad that she had written out her little speech last week, for the last few days had been so packed full that she had not had a moment to herself.

The tables were finished to the satisfaction of every one, and then Judith found Nancy, and asked her if she would hear her speech. They found a secluded spot and Judith recited a little eulogy of York Hill.

"It's tremendously good, Judy," said Nancy admiringly. "I think that part about the experiences of the first week is awfully funny, and I like the ending too--'Ring out the old, ring in the new'--It makes us think of next year, doesn't it?"

"I'm afraid you're not a severe critic," said Judith, flus.h.i.+ng with pleasure at Nancy's honest admiration, "but I want it to be my very best."

"Come on, you two," cried Sally May at this juncture. "Do come and see the other tables."

They visited Nancy's table first.

"Oh, how sweet your flowers look!" said Judith, admiring the little old-fas.h.i.+oned posies in their stiff paper frills.

"Mrs. Hewson sent us in several boxes from her country place, and Joyce and Phyllis made the frills. They do look quaint, don't they?"

"What thrilling place cards!" cried Sally May. "Look, Judy--four snapshots on each one--are they all the same, Nancy?"

"Oh, no, Jane and Marjorie collected eight or ten snaps from the girls who had cameras and then they printed enough for every one to have four.

Every one has some view or other of the School, and every one has a picture of one of the prefects."

"Here's a perfectly sweet one of Catherine," said Judith, pouncing on one on the other side of the table; "here's Miss Meredith's house--and what's this?" Squeals of delight from both of them.

"Oh, it's Josephine and Jane in their carnival costumes, and here's Eleanor at the wicket. Oh, Nancy, what perfectly glorious place cards!

Wouldn't I just love to have one!"

"Wait till next year," said Nancy; "but I'll try to get some of the snaps for you," she added in a lower tone as a dozen or more New Girls came in to admire.

"Come on over and see ours now," said Judith hospitably. "I'm dying myself to see our place cards. Sally May has kept them a great secret."

Nancy was appreciative and admired the lights and the paper napkins, and then the place cards came in for their share of praise. Sally May's cheeks grew pink with pleasure as Judith and Nancy became more and more enthusiastic. Sally May was really very clever with her pencil and on each card she had drawn a little sketch reminiscent of the New Girls'

Play at Christmas. Scrooge was there, of course, "before and after,"

Judith said laughingly as she ran from one place to another--and Tiny Tim, and Bob Cratchit, and the boy with the turkey, and the ghost, and Martha. Sally May had looked up several ill.u.s.trated editions of the "Christmas Carol" and Miss Carlton had given her and Florence permission to work on the cards during Studio hours. They had taken ever so long, but Florence had been a brick and they were finished at last. Edith and Helen had printed in the toast list.

Judith s.h.i.+vered as she saw her name at the bottom of the list. How she wished she had spent more time on her speech--how _could_ she put into words at all what she felt about the School?

She felt this more keenly than ever before as she stood arm in arm with Nancy and looked in through the windows of the dining-hall at the tables prepared for the Old Girls. She heard Nancy and Sally May exclaiming over the lovely irises which decked the long tables, but she was thinking of the girls who had gathered from all over the wide Dominion to visit again their old School. Judith had felt vaguely the same emotion as she saw the Old Girls marching into Big Hall in the morning, but she felt it now with a rush of warm feeling--School seemed infinitely more dear, more worth while, bigger. There must be something very big in York Hill, she thought, something very strong, to draw back every year these hundreds of Old Girls.