Hollyhock Part 17

'That's much prettier,' said Leucha Villiers. 'Do tell her to come and sit with us, Jasmine. I shall always call her Jack. I have taken a great fancy to her.'

'Well, you'd best keep your fancy to yourself,' said Jasmine, 'for no one _will_, and no one _can_, coerce Hollyhock.'

'Oh, she's not going to lord it over me,' said Lady Leucha. 'Am I not an earl's daughter?'

'That will have no effect on Hollyhock, I can a.s.sure you.'

'Won't it? We'll see. My father has got a glorious mansion, and we belong to the very greatest n.o.bility in the whole of England. Our cousins, the Frasers, are the daughters of the Marquis of Killin. So you 'd better not put on airs before me, Jasmine. Oh Jasmine, I do love you; you are such a downright dear little thing. I 'm going to ask you up to Hans Place at Easter if daddy and mother will give me leave.'

'Thank you,' said Jasmine; but I couldn't afford to spend one minute away from The Garden.'

'How queer of you! You seem devoted to your home.'

'I'm Scots,' replied Jasmine; 'and to the Scots there are no people like the Scots.'

'Oh, do, do watch her!' suddenly exclaimed Lady Leucha. 'Barbara, do you see--Dorothy, do you see?--she's walking up and down on the terrace with that ugly Mary Barton and that n.o.body, Agnes Featherstonhaugh.

Why, Nancy Greenfield and Jane Calvert are hopping round her just as though they were magpies on one leg.'

'Why should she not talk to those girls? They are very nice,' said Jasmine. 'But, Leucha, Barbara, and Dorothy, do you not think you had better prepare your French lessons? At least I must and will.'

Jasmine skipped away and was soon lost to view, but the Ladies Barbara, Dorothy, and Leucha found themselves alone--alone and somewhat slighted. Slighted, too, by those commonplace Scots girls! They, who were the daughters of a marquis and an earl! The thing was not to be endured!

Leucha whispered to her companions, and soon they got up and went out in a little group into the grounds. They saw black-eyed Hollyhock, surrounded by her adorers. She was talking in quite a gentle, subdued voice, and did not take the least notice of the marquis's and the earl's daughters. Never had Nancy Greenfield, Jane Calvert, Mary Barton, Agnes Featherstonhaugh, and last, but not least, Margaret Drummond felt so elated. Holly was talking in a very low, seductive voice. Her rich curls were tumbling about her face and far down her back. Her cheeks were like bright, soft fire, and the flash in her glorious black eyes it would be difficult to surpa.s.s.

'I say, Jack,' exclaimed Leucha.

----'And, girls, as I was telling you, that poor cat, wee Jean, she came and nestled on my bed'----

'I'm talking to you, Miss Lennox,' said Lady Leucha.

'Are you? I did not listen. You spoke to some one called Jack.

That's a boy. I happen to be a girl.--Well, girls, let's proceed.

I've _such_ a jolly plan in my head. I 'm thinking--whisper--that young person must not hear.'

The whisper was to the effect that wee Jean was to be fetched from The Garden by Holly that very night and put comfortably into Lady Leucha's bed. A saucer of cream was to be placed in the said bed, and it was more than likely that bonnie Jean would spill it in her fright.

Lady Leucha, who knew nothing of this plan, said in a tone bristling with haughtiness, 'Some little Scotch girls can be very rude!'

'And some fair maids of England can be downright worse!' retorted Hollyhock.--'Come along, girls, let's go down this side-walk.'

Lady Leucha had never been spoken to in that tone before, but rudeness to a girl who had always been pampered made her desire all the stronger to win the fascinating Hollyhock to her side, and to deprive those common five, Agnes Featherstonhaugh, Mary Barton, Nancy Greenfield, Jane Calvert, and Margaret Drummond, of her company. Accordingly, accompanied by the two Frasers, she also went down the shady walk which led to the great lake. She began to talk in a high-pitched English voice of the delights of her home, the wealth of her parents, and the way in which the Marquis of Kilmarnock and his sons and daughters adored her.

Hollyhock heard each word, but _her_ voice was no longer gentle. It was loud and a little penetrating. 'You would not dare to come out at night,' she said, looking at the devoted five.

'And whyever not?' asked Mary.

'You would not have the courage. It's here on moonlight nights that the ghost walks. He drips as he walks; and he's _very_ tall and very strong, with a wild sort of light in his eyes, which are black and big and awful to see. He was drowned here in the lake on the night before his wedding. He's very unquiet, is that poor ghost! _I_ do not mind him one little bit, being a sort of friend, almost a relative, of his.

Many and many a night, when the moon is at the full, have I stood by the lake and said, "Come away, my laddie. Come, poor ghostie, and I 'll dry your wet hair." Poor fellow, he likes me to rub him dry.'

[Ill.u.s.tration: 'It's here on moonlight nights that the ghost walks.']

The daughters of the marquis and the earl were now quite silent, their silly little hearts filled with horror. They never guessed that Hollyhock was making up her story.

'You _couldn't_ have done that,' said Jane Calvert.

'Whist, can't ye? I want to get those girls away, so as to talk about the kitchen cat.'

The girls in question certainly did go away. They did more; they went straight to Mrs Macintyre and asked her if the awful story was true.

Mrs Macintyre, having never heard of it, declared emphatically that it was not true; but, somehow, neither Lady Leucha nor the Fraser girls quite believed her. There was such a ring of truth in Hollyhock's words; and had they not all heard, on that first happy evening at the school, the cry, so shrill, so piercing, '_The ghost! the ghost!_'

They had tried not to think of it since, but Hollyhock seemed to confirm the weird words, and they began to wonder if they could stay long in this school, which, beautiful as it was, contained such an awful ghost--a ghost who required a little girl to dry his locks for him. Surely such a terrible thing could not happen! It was quite past belief.

CHAPTER XIII.

THE SUMMER PARLOUR.

If there was a girl who was at once slightly frightened and extremely angry, that girl was Leucha Villiers, the daughter of the Earl of Crossways. Never, never before had any overtures on her part been treated as Hollyhock had treated them. If this saucy black-eyed imp intended to rule the school, she, Leucha, would show her what she thought of her conduct. She would not be ruled by her. She would, in short, show her once and for all her true position. Little Scotch n.o.body, indeed! Well, the angry Leucha knew how to proceed.

Leucha was considered by her friends and by her numerous acquaintances a most charming girl, a girl with such aristocratic manners, such a n.o.ble presence, such a gentle, firm, distinguished air. She had been, during her first week at school, very happy on the whole, for Jasmine, and Gentian, and Rose, and Delphinium had more or less bowed down to her and admired her. But now there appeared on the scene a totally different character--Hollyhock! How ridiculous to call any human being by such a name! But then it wasn't her real name; her name was Jacqueline. She, Lady Leucha, would certainly not call her Hollyhock, or p.r.i.c.kly Holly, or anything of that sort. She would call her Jack and Jacko, and tease her as much as possible. She had certainly spoken of the ghost in her ridiculous Scotch accent, but Leucha Villiers, after careful consideration, determined not to be afraid of pure nonsense. Was there ever a girl in creation who dried a ghost's dripping hair? The whole thing was too silly.

In accordance with Mrs Maclure's promise, a great many fresh girls had arrived, and the full number of seventy was now nearly made up. It would be quite made up by the end of the following week.

Leucha liked the boy element in the school, and was exceedingly sorry to part with it; but she perceived, to her intense satisfaction, that the English contingent of girls at Ards.h.i.+el was very strong, and that, notwithstanding all her audacity and daring, Jacko--of course she was Jacko--could be kept in a minority. She felt there was no time to lose, for Hollyhock looked at her with such flas.h.i.+ng eyes, with such saucy dimples round her lips, with such a very rare and personal beauty, that Leucha felt she must get hold of her own girls at once, in order to sustain the school against the wicked machinations of Jacko.

Accordingly she got Lady Barbara Fraser and her sister Dorothy, also the Honourable Daisy Watson, to meet her in what was called the Summer Parlour, a very pretty arbour in the grounds, where materials for a fire were laid, and where a fire could be lit in cold weather.

Winter was approaching. It was now nearly October, and October in the North is often accompanied by frosts and fallen leaves, and by bitter, cold, easterly winds. Lady Leucha had, she considered, a very charming manner. Having collected her friends round her, she went off with them to seek for Mrs Macintyre. They found this good woman, as usual, very busy, and very gentle and full of tact.

'We have come with a request,' said Lady Leucha.

'And what is that, my child?' asked Mrs Macintyre.

'Mrs Macintyre,' said Lady Leucha, 'you have in your school far more English than Scotch girls.'

'That is true, my dear--at least, it is true up to the present. But I have heard to-day from my dear friend Mrs Maclure that fifteen new Edinburgh la.s.sies will arrive on Sat.u.r.day. You'll welcome them; won't you, Leucha?'

'I like English girls best,' said Lady Leucha.

'That's natural enough, dear child. Well, you have a goodly number of friends and relatives at the school.'

'I have,' said Leucha; 'but I have come in the name of my cousins, Dorothy and Barbara Fraser, and my great friend Daisy Watson, to say that we do not approve of the manners of the new pupil.'

'What new pupil, Leucha? There are a good many in the school.'

'I know that. But I allude to that wild-looking child with black eyes and hair, who talks the absurdest nonsense. Would you believe it, dear Mrs Macintyre, she talks of coming here on moonlight nights and wiping the hair of a ghost? Could you imagine anything so silly?'