Just Gerry Part 6

"Yes, I remember," said Jack.

"Well, there you are, then!" declared Phyllis triumphantly. "You _can't_ go and make friends with Geraldine Wilmott, because you're a member of the Patriotic League. We won't send her to Coventry or do anything of that sort, because, of course, we haven't got any real _proof_ that she's a German. But I vote we all steer as clear of her as possible for the future, and take jolly good care she doesn't get to know any of our private plans or secrets. She's just as likely as not to go telling them all to the mistresses if she gets to know them. You can't trust a person who's got German blood!"

And in this decision the Lower Fifth acquiesced, although it was really hardly possible for them to steer more clear of the new girl than they had done during the past week.

CHAPTER VII

GERALDINE MAKES A FRIEND

There was one individual in the school who took no part in the ostracism of Geraldine Wilmott. This was Bruno, the headmistress's big black dog. Bruno had taken a tremendous fancy to the new girl.

Perhaps in his big-hearted way he had divined how shy and miserable she was, and wished to comfort her. And poor Geraldine, lonely and home-sick, found an unexpected solace in the dog's companions.h.i.+p. In the nature of things she could not see a great deal of him. Bruno was sternly forbidden the cla.s.srooms during school hours, and his presence in the dining-hall during meal-times was equally tabooed. The dog seemed to understand these restrictions, and kept to them faithfully.

But at other times he made a special point of seeking out Geraldine and attaching himself to her. And the lonely girl was glad enough of his company during some of her solitary play hours.

Bruno was the cause of her making another queer friend in the person of Bennett, the school porter. One wet Sat.u.r.day morning--there were no lessons at Wakehurst on Sat.u.r.days--the new girl was roaming rather forlornly through the corridors, accompanied by her canine friend, when Miss Oakley came upon her.

"Oh, here's that dog at last! I've been looking everywhere for him,"

said the headmistress. "He seems to have taken a great fancy to you, Geraldine. But he's got to go and be washed now. It's his bath morning, as he knows perfectly well. Take him along to Bennett, dear, will you? He's waiting for him round by the lobby door."

Geraldine laid her hand obediently upon the dog's collar and led him off in the direction of the lobby. Bennett, a grim-faced, middle-aged individual, who appeared to disapprove of schoolgirls on principle, was awaiting him, with a towel over his arm and a cake of soap in his hand.

"Miss Oakley told me to bring Bruno to you," said Geraldine shyly, as she handed her charge over. It was the first time she had come across Bennett, and she was duly impressed by the grimness of his appearance.

Bennett's manner did not relax at her shy approach.

"Thank you, miss," he said dourly. He made a grab at Bruno, who, however, evidently did not relish the coming ordeal at all. In fact, his weekly baths were the bane of his otherwise peaceful existence. He deftly eluded the man's grasp, and, slipping by him, bolted back along the corridor towards the boot-lobby, the door of which happened to be ajar.

With a muttered imprecation Bennett stumbled after him, to find himself, when he was through the door, in the midst of a group of Lower School children changing into their gym shoes for an impromptu drill in the gymnasium. The boot-lobby consisted of three large rooms opening into each other and lined with boot-lockers. It afforded Bruno plenty of s.p.a.ce for dodging his pursuer, and an exciting hunt ensued, in which Bruno's part was taken openly by the little girls, most of whom had excellent reasons for disliking the surly porter. Bennett looked upon the Wakehurst girls in general, more especially the smaller ones, as the plague of his life, and was not by any means averse to reporting their misdoings to authority. Many an order mark and conduct mark had been gained through his instrumentality, and his victims were only too glad to a.s.sist Bruno in eluding him. Some dozen or so of the little girls joined in the chase with great zest, getting in Bennett's way at crucial moments, and shrieking with laughter at his abortive efforts to lay hands upon Bruno, who barked and dodged and frolicked about, thoroughly enjoying the fun.

The climax was reached at last when Bennett tripped over an outstretched hockey stick and measured his length on the ground. This rather alarmed the Lower School, the members of which hastened to make themselves scarce. By the time the porter had recovered himself, everybody had vanished, except Geraldine, who hurried to his a.s.sistance, and Bruno, who stood watching him from a safe corner.

"I say, I do hope you haven't hurt yourself?" said Geraldine solicitously.

Bennett shook his fist angrily in the direction of the departing children as he rose painfully to his feet.

"Young varmints!" he said. "I'll be even with 'em one day. I mayn't know their names but I knows their faces, and one day I'll make 'em sorry for this outrage. Come you here, you brute, you!" he added, addressing himself to Bruno, as he made another dive at the dog.

But Bruno was not disposed to yield himself up as yet, and another hunt followed. This time, however, Geraldine joined in the chase, and finally managed to catch and hold the dog until Bennett could reach him.

"Thank you, missie," said Bennett, more graciously this time. "I'm much obliged to you, I'm sure. Would you care to come and watch him bathed, now--seeing as you've helped to capture him?"

"Oh, I should love to!" said Geraldine, delighted at the idea of something to do this dull, wet morning. And she followed Bennett out to the washhouse on the farther side of the quadrangle, feeling happier than she had felt for some time. Talking to Bennett, surly as he seemed, would be better than talking to n.o.body at all.

Bennett, however, was not so surly as his outward manner had led her to believe. Geraldine's opportune aid in capturing Bruno, and her anxious inquiries as to whether he had hurt himself in his fall, had quite won his heart. He opened up to her on the subject of his experiences in war,--Bennett was an ex-soldier and had fought both in South Africa and in France,--and Geraldine was immensely interested in his reminiscences.

"I used to live in Germany a long time ago," she told him shyly. "I have been in France, too, but I don't remember much about it, for I was quite a tiny little thing then. Did you learn to talk French when you were fighting there?"

"I can't say as I did, exactly," said the man, scrubbing Bruno vigorously. "I learnt a word or two, here and there, such as 'Bong Jour' and 'Narpoo' and 'Beaucoup de Vin.' But not so as to be able to converse, so to speak. There was one chap in our company who was a regular nailer at speaking the lingo, but it got him into trouble in the end."

"How?" asked Geraldine interestedly.

"Well, miss, he was a rare one for the girls, you see. And being as he could talk to 'em, he used to have 'em all round him like flies round a pot of honey in every billet he were in. I dunno what he told 'em.

But whatever it was, he told 'em all the same thing, and they all thought he was in love with 'em and meant ter marry 'em, and after a bit things got too warm for him altogether. And he had to go to the C.O. about it and own up, and get himself transferred to another company. It ain't no joke to have half a dozen sweethearts all after you at once. Not that I've ever had that experience myself. I'm just a-judging by what happened to Bill Sims. I ain't never had but one sweetheart in my life, and she gave me the chuck while I was fighting in South Africa, and I've had no truck with women in that way ever since."

"Oh, how mean of her!" said Geraldine sympathetically. "When you were away fighting for your country, too! She must have been a horrid sort of girl."

"Oh, well, I don't say as she were altogether to blame for it," said Bennett generously. "You see, I hadn't written to her regular like.

For two years she never got no letter at all, and she reckoned I was dead or else gone off with some other young woman. So she got herself spliced up to Albert Brown, who lived next door. She was real sorry about it when I come back, and so was he. But it were too late to be altered then, so we all agreed to make the best of it. It ain't no manner of use crying over spilt milk. That's been my motto all my life, and will be to the end of it. After all, being a single man has its advantages, as you'll find, missie, when you gets to my age.

There's only one thing I regrets I ain't married for, and that's when it comes to mending of my clothes. Socks I can manage, but patches beats me altogether. This coat I'm wearing now wants a patch terrible badly at the elbow. But though I've got a bit of the stuff it were made of in my pocket at this moment, I can't bring myself to start upon it, like."

"Don't you know any woman who could do it for you?" suggested Geraldine.

Bennett shook his head.

"Not that I could ask, so to speak," he answered. "Cook did say once as how she'd do it for me. But she ain't never noticed it again, though I always make a point of wearing my old coat whenever I'm in the kitchen. And I don't exactly like to remind her. Cook's that particular, you see."

"I'll tell you what! I'll do it for you," said Geraldine, struck by the brilliant idea. "I'm quite good at patching, truly I am. And I'd love to do it. You've been so awfully decent in letting me help you with Bruno. It won't be dinner-time for nearly an hour yet. I'll go and get my mending things and do it for you now." And she jumped to her feet and made her way towards the door.

"It's very good of you, miss, to offer," said Bennett dubiously. "But I ain't sure as I ought to take advantage of it." But Geraldine was already out of hearing and half-way across the quadrangle to fetch her workbag from the dormitory. Fortunately for her project, she met no one on the way, for in her excitement and interest at the thought of being able to do something for somebody at last, she had quite forgotten that it was necessary to ask permission if she wanted to go to the dormitory out of hours. In a few minutes she was safely back in the washhouse again, where, seated upon an upturned packing-case, she proceeded to patch the torn elbow in Bennett's coat with a speed and dexterity which aroused that individual's undisguised admiration.

"Well, now, missie, I'm sure I do thank you," he said heartily, when at last the coat was neatly patched and back on his shoulders again. "You are a real little lady, that's what you are. Which is more than I can say for some of them young varmints up yonder! And if ever there's anything I can do for you in return, you've only got to say the word and I'll do it."

"Thank you," said Geraldine, somewhat embarra.s.sed by his excessive grat.i.tude. "Is Bruno dry now? Shall I take him to Miss Oakley?"

"Yes, if you like, miss. I'll carry him up to the house for you, or he'll get himself all muddy again. My word, ain't he a weight just?"

the man added, as he lifted the big retriever in his arms.

The dinner bell rang just as they reached the schoolhouse door, however, so Geraldine was not able to take the dog to the headmistress's room. She took him as far as the mistresses' corridor, and left him there, while she hurried off to brush her hair and wash her hands for dinner.

n.o.body had missed her or noticed her absence apparently, which, Geraldine decided, was perhaps just as well. So far as she knew there was no rule at Wakehurst Priory to forbid girls from a.s.sisting to bath the headmistress's dog, but possibly somebody might have found some objection to her morning's occupation if they came to know about it.

Since they did not, no harm had been done, and Geraldine reflected, with some satisfaction, that in Bennett at least she had found a friend.

And indeed she had! The school porter was at that moment exhibiting his newly-acquired patch to a circle of interested maids in the kitchen, all of whom were unanimous in praising the excellence of the handiwork.

"A grown woman couldn't have done it better," declared Kate, the linen-room maid.

"Little Miss Wilmott, did you say it was?" asked Cook. "She's a real nice little lady, to my way of thinking."

"That she is," said one of the dining-hall maids. "Always 'Please' and 'Thank you' whatever you do for her, and never any grumbling or ordering of you about. Pity there aren't more young ladies like her, I say, quiet though she is."

"And none the worse for that, I dare say," commented Cook.

So Geraldine, whatever her school companions might think of her, had at any rate succeeded in winning golden opinions in the servants' hall.