Boarding schools -- England -- Juvenile fiction; Girls -- England -- Juvenile fiction; Schools -- Juvenile fiction
Very solemnly the girls turned to march in their separate forms from the
hall; but as IV B filed through the door there was a sudden outcry, a
hustling, a rush of other girls, and an excited, aghast crowd.
"It's here! It's here, Miss Bowes!" shouted Doris Deane. "Rona Mitchell
had it! It fell from her blouse pocket when she pulled out her
handkerchief."
"It's Rona!"
"We saw it fall!"
"She had it all the time!"
"Oh, the sneak!"
"Silence!" thundered Miss Bowes, ringing her bell.
In the midst of the sudden hush the Principal walked down the hall and
took the pendant from Doris's hand.
"What have you to say for yourself, Rona Mitchell?"
Rona was standing staring as if a ghost had suddenly risen up and
confronted her. Her vermilion colour had faded, and left her face deadly
white.
"Rona, do you hear me?"
Rona shivered slightly, glanced desperately at Miss Bowes, then cast her
eyes on the floor. She did not attempt to reply.
"I give you one more chance, Rona."
"Oh, Rona," interrupted Ulyth, who was weeping hot tears of dismay,
"remember the Camp-fire! For the sake of the school, Rona!"
She drew back, choking with emotion, as Miss Bowes waved her aside.
Rona gazed for a moment full at Ulyth--a long, long, searching gaze, as
if she would read Ulyth's very soul in her eyes. Then the colour flooded
back, a full tide of crimson, over brow and neck.
"Yes--for the sake of the school!" she repeated unsteadily, and,
bursting into tears, hid her burning face in her hands.
Miss Teddington hastily dismissed the other girls, and, coming to the
assistance of her partner, asked many questions. It was absolutely
useless, for Rona would not answer a single word.
"Go to your bedroom," said the irate Principal at last. "This matter
cannot be allowed to pass. If you had owned up at once nothing would
have been said, but such duplicity and obstinacy are unpardonable. Until
you make a full confession you must not mix with the rest of the school.
We should be sorry to have to send you back to New Zealand, but girls
with no sense of honour cannot remain at The Woodlands."
Still sobbing hysterically, Rona was policed upstairs by Miss Teddington
and locked into her bedroom. An hour or two of solitude might bring her
to her senses, thought the mistress, and break the stubborn spirit which
seemed at present to possess her. A wide experience of girls had proved
that solitary confinement soon quelled insubordination, and by
dinner-time the culprit would probably volunteer some explanation.
Both Principals were greatly upset by the occurrence. Hitherto the
little world at The Woodlands had jogged on without any more desperate
happenings than the breaking of silence rules or the omission of
practising. Never in all its annals had they been obliged to deal with a
case of such serious import.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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