Judy of York Hill Part 24

"Right-o," replied Josephine; "give a dog a bad name--and hang him. No one believes in me just because my hair is untidy. You'll live to see the day, Patricia, when--"

"Clear out," said Patricia, laughing at Josephine's solemn indignation.

"I've got millions of things to do--now, please look after your share.

Come on, Judy, let's tackle this parlour."

"Oh, how sweet!" cried Judith as they pulled out the big awkward screen.

"Three cheers for the Studio girls! Wherever did you get such old-fas.h.i.+oned wall-paper, Peggy?"

"Miss Ashwell found it in one of the shops," said Peggy, "and we painted the border ourselves to match the chintz. Aren't those frilly little petticoats for the chairs the cunningest things?"

They worked hard for a couple of hours, and when curtains were hung at the windows which gave glimpses of an old-fas.h.i.+oned garden, and pictures and bric-a-brac, such as our grandmothers loved, in their appointed places, they felt that the result justified their labours.

Judith produced a list and checked it over--yes, everything was ready but the candlesticks, and she'd get those now, and remind Patricia about the draperies which were to transform Mrs. Bennet's parlour into a ball-room or Lady de Burgh's drawing-room.

"It's charming," declared Miss Marlowe who had come in just before.

"Congratulations, Patricia, you've certainly done your share towards making to-night a success. And you're ready in such good time--it's nice not to have a rush at the end."

"That's really owing to Judy, Miss Marlowe," said Patricia quickly; "she and the others, too, have been splendid."

"I'm glad you've had such good helpers," said Miss Marlowe, giving Judith a special smile of approval. "I shan't give a thought to the stage management, Patricia; I'll leave that and the properties to you--there are one or two who still need help with their parts and I want to give them every moment possible."

Judith fairly glowed with happiness as she watched Miss Marlowe disappearing down the hall. Miss Marlowe's words of praise were eagerly prized--they really meant something. Like most other people Judith loved to be approved of, and she had lived these last few days in an atmosphere of admiration. She was this afternoon to receive a special prize in English, and the second prize for General Proficiency in her Form. She had won the tennis trophy for her House, and in many little ways latterly the Senior girls and her own friends had shown her that they turned to her as to a leader; she knew that it was whispered about that next year she and Nancy would probably be prefects. It would be hard, of course, but it would be awfully nice--

Patricia broke in upon her happy musings by calling to Josephine who was leaving the Hall.

"Is everything O.K. in the make-up room, Jo?"

"Molly Seaton's wig hasn't come yet, but Stewarts say they'll have it here by three o'clock," answered Josephine.

"And they promised faithfully to have it here last night," said Patricia disgustedly. "Now will you be certain sure to get it from the parcel room and see that Molly has it in plenty of time. I'll make the two of you responsible--Judy, you remind her--we go straight to the drawing-room for the reception after prize-giving and--"

"Don't worry your fussy old self," said Josephine cheerfully; "n.o.body really believes in me, but Judy never forgets. We'll put the wig with our own fair hands on Molly Seaton's head. Come on, Judy, and see if Cathy's flowers have come yet."

Upstairs everything was in delightful confusion: trunks were being carried off, last packings attended to, every one was visiting every one else, and every one was doing her best to make her voice heard above the general confusion.

After luncheon white frocks were donned for prize-giving, and then the younger girls went about in groups visiting the graduating Sixth Form and admiring their flowers.

The crew of the "Jolly Susan" had clubbed together to buy roses for their Captain.

"We can't get blue roses," Nancy had said regretfully, "but let's get the palest pink we can find and tie them with blue gauze. I'm afraid that's all we can do to suggest sailor boys. Whatever shall we do without her next year?"

There were beautiful flowers everywhere they went, but the crew were quite convinced when they came back to the "Jolly Susan" that none were lovelier than theirs, and most certainly no one to compare with Catherine herself.

Prize-giving proved even more exciting than Judith had antic.i.p.ated. "If only Daddy and Mother could have been here," she thought, as she took her place in the long line of white-frocked girls and looked a bit wistfully at the big audience which held the girls' fathers and mothers.

But that must be Uncle Tom--yes, it was, and Aunt Nell--bless them. She wouldn't feel lonely now. And yes--there were Tom and Jack. Then Judith remembered that she mustn't look about the audience, but keep her mind on the programme. She looked down at the printed sheet in her hand, but she knew quite well where they were sitting, and Jack's friendly smile was the first she saw when she came down from the platform with her prizes in her hand.

Prize-giving was an especially important event for the Sixth, who were graduating. To them it was perhaps the greatest moment of the year, for the receiving of diploma or certificate, seeming to mark a parting of the ways, was bitter sweet--bright with hopes of the joys to come, but tinged with regret for "the great glad days" that were now left behind.

The School gave them a great ovation. Judith, looking at the group of prefects and captains who received a special pin as a badge of honour, echoed Nancy's cry--how COULD they get along without them next year?

Miss Meredith held a reception afterwards on the lawn, for it was a perfect June day. Judith carried her prizes proudly for Aunt Nell and Uncle Tom to inspect.

"I didn't trip after all, Aunt Nell," she said laughingly; "if you only knew how relieved I was to think that I had made my curtsey and was down from the platform without mishap!"

Jack and Tom with Sally May and Nancy joined the group and congratulations were the order of the day. Sally May had a prize for sketching to exhibit, and Nancy one for fine sewing.

It was a gay, delightful party, and when messengers began to send round word that actors and committee members must go in for early tea in order to be ready in good time for the play, Judith could hardly believe that prize-giving was really over.

Judith and Nancy had still so much to discuss concerning the day's happenings that they refused to be separated, and Judith, who was to help change the scenery, established Nancy in a corner beside her so that she could share in the fun behind the scenes.

Nancy was loud in her praises of the quaintness of the stage-setting, and Judith, feeling delightfully superior and important, enjoyed herself enormously showing Nancy how they had contrived this and that to better the effect.

Peeping around one corner of the curtain they could see the audience arriving, and behind in the make-up room there was a buzz of voices and a general feeling of excitement which was quite thrilling.

Presently the hall was full, the orchestra had finished their overture, and had begun all over again, but the actors did not appear. Something must have gone wrong.

"Miss Marlowe _will_ be annoyed," whispered Judith to Nancy. "She simply hates being late." And curiosity tempted her to slip into the dressing-room to see what was happening.

The room was humming with repressed excitement; last touches of rouge were being added; Lady Catherine de Burgh was walking solemnly up and down before a mirror practising the art of making her plumes "nod majestically," Sally May was saying feverishly over and over again, "My dear Mr. Bennet, have you heard that Netherfield Park is let at last?"--"If I can just keep talking I won't be nervous," she confided to Jane--"My dear Mr. Bennet, have you heard that Netherfield Park--"; Althea (Bingley) was practising bows with Josephine in a secluded corner of the adjoining room, and Catherine was having the finis.h.i.+ng touches put to her pretty curls. Everything seemed as it should be--no, Mr.

Bennet (Molly Seaton) was protesting almost tearfully to Miss Marlowe, "It was never given to me: Patricia said it was late and she'd look after it." Judith's face flamed--Molly's wig! She had entirely forgotten it!

"Where is Patricia?" said Miss Marlowe in a voice whose quality made the room suddenly become perfectly quiet. Judith tried to speak, but her lips and throat had suddenly become quite dry. How could she tell Miss Marlowe it was her fault!

Sally May was speaking--something about a telegram and Patricia--Judith didn't hear her--a furious argument was raging within her--with lightning-like speed Top Self and Deep-Down Self strove for mastery.

"How can you tell Miss Marlowe it's your fault--after the way you've been trusted and looked up to?--It was Josephine's job, anyway--you did yours"--"But of course you can't let Patricia be blamed"--"Miss Marlowe will never forgive you"--"You can't let Patricia be blamed for it--you WERE to remind--"

The silence had penetrated to the far corner and as Judith opened her lips to speak, Josephine's horrified tones were heard.

"It's my fault, Miss Marlowe, Patricia asked me to look after it."

"You, Josephine?" Miss Marlowe's tones were icy. "Well, you have been consistently careless all year: I wonder that you were given any responsibility."

Judith could not bear that.

"Miss Marlowe," she began in a voice which sounded curiously thin and weak.

But the words were drowned in Sally May's shout:

"Why, here's the box--it's been under this cloak all the time."

The others bent forward to see the precious wig, and Top Self was quick to make one more effort.

"What a little thing to make such a tremendous fuss about! No one has seen you--just slip off again to your post, and when Josephine tells you about it you can take your share of the blame then--Miss Marlowe doesn't want to be bothered with any one else confessing to something that's all over with now--why, it will even look like pretending to be too honest if you interrupt her now--"

Top Self probably had any number of arguments besides; these flashed through her mind in a second, but Deep-Down Self answered them in a most wonderful way and just as quickly. Thinking about it afterwards, Judith couldn't understand how the most important thing that had happened to her during the whole year could have occurred in a second or two, and she found it very difficult to put into words, even for herself, just how Deep-Down Self had conquered. It seemed as if suddenly those who stood for the best and finest things in York Hill rose in her mind and confronted Top Self--Catherine, Nancy, Josephine, Eleanor, Miss Marlowe, Miss Ashwell, Miss Meredith--and when Judith had seen them she turned again to Top Self--but Top Self had gone!

It had only taken a second of time, but even in that second fresh tragedy had been added. The wig was a beautiful golden blonde!

"Quick, give me the powder," Miss Marlowe was saying. "Somebody get the charcoal; we'll have to streak it a bit to make it grey."