A Popular Schoolgirl by Angela Brazil (free ebook reader for ipad .txt) 📕

must do her best, so she concentrated her energies on the prelude. When the first strains of the violin joined in, her musical ear recognized immediately that Bess’s playing was of a very high quality. The tone was pure, the notes were perfectly in tune, and there was a ringing sweetness, a crisp power of expression, and a haunting pathos in the rendering of the melody that showed the performer to be capable of interpreting the composer’s meaning. In spite of her disinclination, Ingred warmed to the accompaniment. When the violin seemed to be bringing out laughter and tears, the piano must do its part, and not merely supply a succession of unimpassioned chords. Ingred was a good reader for a girl of fifteen, but she surpassed herself on this occasion, and seemed to accomplish the difficult passages almost by instinct. She played the final notes very softly as the last fairy strains of the melody thrilled slowly away.

There was a second of silence, then the girls, inside and outside the room, clapped their loudest.

“It was capital!” declared Lispeth encouragingly. “Bess, we shall want you again for school concerts. You and Ingred ought to practise together. Let me look at your violin. I wish I could play like that!”

“Thanks ever so much!” murmured Bess to Ingred, as the latter got up from the piano.

“Oh! it’s all right!” replied Ingred airily, moving away in a hurry to the other side of the room. She did not want Bess to take up Lispeth’s no doubt well meant but rather embarrassing suggestion that they should practise together, and was quite ready with an excuse if it should be proposed.

“It’s the turn of the Sixth now,” she jodelled.

“Vb haven’t done anything yet; I’ll call one of them in,” said Lispeth, stepping out to the landing.

Once through the door, however, her ears were assailed by such an absolute din proceeding from the farther end of the corridor, that she dropped her character of impresario for the duties of head-girl, and calling two of her fellow prefects, went to investigate the cause of the disturbance. She returned in a short time, looking flushed and flurried.

“It’s those wretched kids in IVb,” she proclaimed. “They were behaving disgracefully, pelting each other with the remains of their buns, and fencing with rulers. And they actually had the cheek to tell me they weren’t making any more noise than we were with our singing and playing! I sent them home at once, and I think we’d all better go too. Those intermediates always overstep the line if they’ve an atom of a chance. I told them what I thought about them. It’s been quite a ripping concert, and I’m sorry to break it up, but you understand, don’t you?”

“Rather!” replied the others, as they began their exodus into the corridor.

VI The School Parliament

During the excitement of the concert Ingred had hardly time to realize the greatness of the honor thrust upon her in being chosen as warden to represent her form. All it stood for struck her afterwards.

“My word! You’ll have to sit up and behave yourself after this, Madame!” remarked Quenrede, when she mentioned the matter at home.

“Yes, of course they’ll all look to you now as an example!” added Mother.

“Oh, I don’t think they will!” declared Ingred, who had not considered her new office from that point of view. “I’ve just to speak up for the interests of the form, you know.”

“There are obligations as well as interests,” said Mother seriously. “Try to make Va a useful factor in the school. That would be something worth doing, wouldn’t it?”

In arranging for the School Parliament, Miss Burd had allowed wardens to be chosen by each form, from IIIb upwards, but had decided that the smaller girls were too young to take part in public affairs. Every form that sent a representative constituted itself into a kind of club, and chose a special name. These were placed on the Council Register as follows:

VI The True Blues.
Va The Pioneers.
Vb The Amazons.
IVa The Old Brigade.
IVb The Mermaids.
IIIa The Dragonflies.
IIIb The Cuckoos.

“You can compare marks every fortnight,” said Miss Burd, “and whichever gets the best average shall hold a cup that I intend to present. The marks of the whole form will count, so that slackers will be a distinct drawback to their own companies. Any girl who loses a mark hinders her form from gaining the cup, and of course vice versa, those who work will help.”

The question of marks had been a much debated subject with Miss Burd. She had discussed it in detail at several educational conferences, and had come to the conclusion that, on the whole, the system was highly desirable.

“It’s all very well to talk about the evils of emulation, and work for work’s sake,” she confided to Miss Strong, “but you can’t get children to see things altogether in the same light as grownups. I own that, when I was a child myself, I made tremendous efforts so that I might be head of my form, and when the arrangements were changed at our school, and, instead of carefully-registered marks and places, we only had first, second, or third class, I slacked off considerably. I knew that a lesson not quite so perfectly learnt, or an exercise with one or two mistakes, would still find me in the First Class, so why should I make such enormous exertions? When every slip might mean the loss of my chance to be top, I was far more careful. Of course I know that Emulation, with a big E, is supposed to be all wrong, but really I think people make too much fuss about it. It was quite friendly rivalry when I was at school, and the girls with whom I competed were my dearest chums. I believe my new system here is going to unite both methods. Every girl will