who give way to their impulses; she despises what she calls
'early Victorian hysterics', and I quite agree with her."
"Yes, we must learn to be stoics here," said Ruth; "and as for teasing,
the wisest thing is to take no notice of it."
A monitress had been dispatched to fetch Honor back, but in a short
time she returned alone, and reported that she could not find her. Miss
Maitland made no comment, and as the meal was now over she gave the
signal of dismissal. Most of the girls went to the recreation room, but
Maisie Talbot, who had not yet quite concluded her unpacking, ran
straight upstairs. Noticing something move behind a curtain in the
corner of the bedroom, she pulled it aside. There was Honor, sitting in
a queer little heap on the floor, and rubbing her eyes in a very
suggestive manner. She jumped up in a moment, however, and pretended
that she was only arranging her boots.
"I'd finished tea," she remarked airily, "so I thought I might as well
empty my box, and put my dresses away in my wardrobe."
"You'll have to ask Miss Maitland's leave next time, before you march
out of the room, or you'll get into trouble," said Maisie. "If it
weren't your first evening, you'd be expected to make a public apology.
Of course, Flossie Taylor and the Hammond-Smiths were aggravating, but
you should just have laughed at them, and then they'd have stopped. We
don't behave like kindergarten children here."
Maisie spoke scathingly. She was a girl who had scant sympathy with
what she called "babyishness", and disliked any exhibition of feeling.
And, after all, she only voiced the general opinion of the school,
which, by an unwritten law, had established a calm imperturbation as
the height of good breeding.
"I don't care in the least what any of you think!" retorted Honor, and
she hung up her skirt with such a jerk that she broke the loop.
Yet, although she spoke lightly, she evidently did care. She was very
quiet indeed all the rest of the evening, and hardly spoke at
recreation. Chatty Burns sat down next to her and tried to begin a
conversation, but Honor answered so briefly that she very soon gave up
the effort in despair, and moved away; while the other girls were so
interested in their own affairs that they did not trouble to remember
their new schoolfellow. At nine o'clock prayers were read, and
everybody went upstairs to bed.
When the lights were out, and the room was in perfect silence, a
strange, suppressed n
|