However excellent the arrangements of a school, and however happy the girls may be there, the word "holidays" nevertheless holds a magic attraction. Miss Birks's pupils thoroughly appreciated the Dower House, but they would not have been human if they had not rejoiced openly in the immediate prospect of breaking-up day. Already preparations were being made for the general exodus; the gardener was carrying down trunks from the box-room, Miss Harding was checking the linen lists, and the girls were sorting the contents of their drawers and deciding what must be left and what taken home. "These are going to be extra-special holidays," triumphed Deirdre. "You know, my sister's at school at Madame Mesurier's, near Versailles? Well, Mother and I are to have ten days in Paris, so that we can see Eileen and take her about. Won't it be absolutely ripping? I've never been abroad before, and I'm just living for it. We're to go and see all the sights. Eileen's looking forward to it as much as I am." "I'm going to stay with my cousins in Hampshire," said Dulcie. "They're mad on horses, so I shall get "Where are you going, Gerda?" asked Deirdre. "To London, to meet Mother," replied Gerda, with a light in her eyes such as the chums had not seen since she arrived. She offered no details of further plans, but evidently the prospect satisfied her. All three girls were counting the hours till their departure. There is a dour old proverb, however, which states that "there's many a slip 'twixt cup and lip", and for once its pessimistic philosophy was justified. On the very morning of the breaking-up day Deirdre, who had passed a funny, feverish night, woke up to find her face covered with a rash. Dulcie went for Miss Birks, who, after inspecting the invalid and finding on enquiry that both Dulcie and Gerda had slight sore throats, forbade the three to leave their bedroom until they had been seen by a medical man. Very much disconcerted, they took breakfast in bed. "It may be only nettle-rash," said Deirdre. "I had it once before when I'd eaten something that disagreed with me." "And I expect Gerda and I caught cold on the warren yesterday. No doubt it's nothing," said Dulcie, trying to thrust away the horrible apprehensions that oppressed her. When Dr. Jones arrived, however, and examined his patients he sounded the death-knell of their hopes. "The rash will probably be out to-morrow," he announced. "With care in the initial stages it should prove nothing serious, but for the present they are as well in bed." The three victims could hardly believe the calamity that had overtaken them. To stop in bed with measles when their boxes were packed and the last things ready to go into their hand-bags, and their trains arranged and their relations notified of the time of their arrival! "It's—it's rotten!" exclaimed Deirdre, turning her flushed face to the wall. "If it's German measles I believe it's your fault, Gerda!" declared Dulcie, weeping openly. "I didn't start them!" objected poor Gerda. "You've had them packed in your box, then!" snapped Dulcie, who was thoroughly cross and unreasonable. "Oh, won't it make a pretty hullaballoo in the school?" The sympathies of the moment might well be with Miss Birks. She had caused each of her remaining seventeen pupils to be examined by the doctor, and as all appeared free from symptoms was sending off seventeen telegrams to inform parents of the circumstances and ask if they wished their daughters to return home or to remain in quarantine. Without exception the replies were in favour of travelling, so the usual cabs and luggage carts drove up, and the girls, rejoicing In spite of strict injunctions to keep warm, Deirdre got out of bed and watched the departure from the window. "To think that I ought to have been sitting inside that bus, and my box ought to have been on that cart!" she lamented. "Oh, I could howl! Mother will have got our tickets for Paris. I wonder if she'll go without me? Oh, why didn't I powder my face and say nothing about it?" "You couldn't have hidden that rash! Besides, it's horribly dangerous to catch cold on the top of measles. Get back into bed, you silly! I'll tell Miss Birks if you don't! Do you want what the doctor called 'complications'? I think you're the biggest lunatic I know, standing in your night-dress by an open window!" Dulcie's remarks were sage if not complimentary, so Deirdre tore herself away from the tantalizing spectacle of the start below and dutifully returned to her pillow just in time to save herself from being found out of bed by Miss Birks, who, having said good-bye to the travellers, came upstairs to condole with the three invalids. "I can't think how we caught it!" sighed Dulcie. "At our performance of Coriolanus, I'm afraid," said Miss Birks. "Dr. Jones tells me that all the little Hargreaves are down with it. He was called in to attend them yesterday. Probably they were sickening for it and gave you the infection." "I trust not, indeed. I shan't feel easy till I have sent to the Castle to enquire about him. It certainly is the most unfortunate happening. But Deirdre may be glad she had not started for Paris. There is nothing so miserable or so disastrously expensive as to be laid up in a foreign hotel. The proprietor would have demanded large compensation for measles, even if he had allowed her to remain in the house. Probably she would have been removed to a fever hospital." "Not a pleasant way of seeing Paris!" said Deirdre, summoning up a smile. "You'll have a holiday there another time, I'm sure. And now you must all be brave girls and try to make the best of things. Fortunately, none of you seem likely to be really ill. We'll do what we can to amuse ourselves." Miss Birks spoke brightly, and her cheery manner hid her own disappointment, though she might justly have indulged in a grumble, for she had been obliged to cancel all her arrangements for a motor tour and stay to attend to her young patients. The responsibility of looking after them and the subsequent disinfecting which must be done would completely spoil her holiday. She was not a woman to think of herself, however, and she put her aspect of the case so entirely aside that the girls never even suspected that her regrets were equal, if not superior to their own. As the doctor had prophesied, both Dulcie and Gerda developed the rash on the following day. Fortunately, "The microbes have only fought a half-hearted battle, and they are retiring worsted," declared Miss Birks; "they're not as savage as scarlet-fever germs." "Quite tame ones," laughed Dulcie. "Germs 'made in Germany' aren't likely to be A1," said Deirdre, with a quip at Gerda. After a day or two in bed, Dr. Jones pronounced his patients convalescent, gave them permission to go downstairs, and held out the promise of a walk on the warren if they continued to improve. Their period of isolation was a fortnight, after which they were to be allowed to go home for the remaining week of the holidays. If it had not been for the thought of what they were missing, they might have congratulated themselves on having an extremely good time. Miss Birks was kindness itself, and allowed every indulgence possible. They were kept well supplied with books, in cheap editions which could be burnt afterwards, and had licence to pursue any hobby which admitted of disinfection. Dr. Jones brought good reports of the Hargreaves children, who were now convalescent. Ronnie had most fortunately not caught any germs, and was away with Mrs. Trevellyan in Herefordshire. Of the seventeen girls who had returned home, Irene Jordan only had developed a slight rash, so that on the whole the school had escaped better than might have been expected. Gerda was the worst off in this respect, for Deirdre and Dulcie, though ready to accommodate each other, did not show her too much consideration, and would often ruthlessly disregard her palpable hints. They kept very much together, and though not openly rude, made her feel most decidedly that she was de trop. She never complained, nor offered the least reproach; her manner throughout was exactly the same as it had been since her first arrival, gentle, reserved, and uncommunicative. Sometimes the chums, out of sheer naughtiness, tried to pick a quarrel with her, but she never lost her self-control, and either kept entire silence, or replied so quietly to their gibes that they were rather ashamed of themselves. To Miss Birks Gerda did not open her heart any more than All three girls made excellent progress, and Dr. Jones very soon gave permission first for a gentle walk round the garden at midday, then for a longer time out-of-doors. "We've been making invalids of them, though they're not invalids at all," he said jokingly. "They're nothing but three humbugs! Look at their rosy cheeks! And I hear reports of such excessive consumption of chicken broth, and jelly, and other delicacies, I shall have to diet them on porridge and potatoes. I think Miss Birks is too good to you, young ladies. When I was at school I wasn't pampered like this, I assure you, whatever infectious complaints I managed to catch. They used to dose us with Turkey rhubarb, no matter what our ailment; it was a kind of specific against all diseases, and nasty enough to frighten any microbe away." "May we go home next week?" pleaded Deirdre. "Girls who catch German measles don't deserve to go home. But I know Miss Birks wants to get rid of you, so I won't be too severe. Yes, I think I may That evening three very jubilant girls sat in the small schoolroom scribbling their good news. "This day week we shall be at home," rejoiced Deidre. "Oh, goody! I am so glad! I can hardly write sense. I hope Mother'll understand it. She's accustomed to my ragtime letters, though." "Miss Birks is sending post cards about the trains," volunteered Gerda. "A good thing, too, for I never remember to put the time. Shall I read you what I've said, Deirdre?
"It's a good thing Miss Birks is sending a post card, you silly child," remarked Deirdre crushingly. "You've never told your mother which day you're coming, to say nothing of mentioning a time." "You're as big a baby as Baba," returned Deirdre. "No, I can't and won't and shan't go with you. You must pluck up your courage for once. Dear me there's nothing to be afraid of, you scared mouse." Thus duly squashed by her own chum, Dulcie made no further plea; she only banged the door in reply, and they could hear her footsteps stumping slowly and heavily upstairs. In a few moments, however, she descended with a much swifter motion, and, looking pale and frightened, burst into the schoolroom. Both Deirdre and Gerda rose to the rescue, and—three strong—the girls ventured to investigate. With a few pardonable tremors they drew aside the curtains that concealed the door of the mysterious room. There was nothing to be seen or heard, however. The iron bars had not been tampered with, and all was dead silence within. "Your nerves are jumpy at present, and you'd imagine anything," decided Deirdre. Instinctively the girls clung together, for from inside the door certainly came the sound of rapping, not very loud, but quite unmistakable. "Who's there?" quavered Deirdre valiantly. But there was no reply. "If you want help, speak," she continued. The three held their breath and listened. Dead silence—that was all, nor was the rapping repeated. "I've heard it before," whispered Gerda. "When?" "Several times. Once just after I came, and again in the middle of the term, and about three weeks ago. It's always the same. A few taps, and then it stops." "Did any of the other girls hear it?" "I didn't ask them." "It's spooky to a degree. What can it be?" "Oh, do you think there's anybody inside?" whimpered Dulcie. "Why didn't he answer, if there was?" "He might be deaf and dumb. Oh, perhaps that's the secret of the room. Is some poor creature shut up there? Oh, it's too horrible!" "Don't get hysterical!" said Deirdre. "Mrs. Trevellyan wouldn't go shutting up deaf and dumb people! It is very mysterious, though." "Shall we tell Miss Birks?" suggested Dulcie. "No, certainly not. She's always fearfully down on us if we get up any scares about the barred room. "Do you ever hear any other noises?" asked Gerda. "No, only what might reasonably be rats or mice." "Has anyone any notion what's inside?" "Not the very slightest. I don't believe even Miss Birks knows." "Well, look here," said Dulcie. "I shall never dare to go down this passage alone again. One of you will simply have to come with me." "I don't think we'll very much care to go alone ourselves," returned Deirdre. "You called me a scared mouse!" Dulcie's tone was injured, as if the epithet still rankled. "Well, we're three scared mice, and it's a case of 'see how they run!'" laughed Deirdre, getting back her self-possession. "We'll go up and down in threesomes for the future." "You promise? You'll never make me pass here by myself again?" "Faithfully, on my honour! We'll act police, and protect you against a dozen possible spooks. Do stop squeezing my arm, you've made it quite sore!" "I don't know how it is, Deirdre, you never take things seriously. I can't see anything to laugh about myself. The whole thing's queer, and uncanny, and mysterious, and I hate mysteries. Why can't Mrs. Trevellyan have the bars taken down and let us look into the room?" "Ah! Ask me a harder." quoted Gerda, who was learning "The Raven". "You're both determined to make fun of it, and it isn't a laughing matter," complained Dulcie. "I haven't got my stamps yet. Come along!" |