When, however, Mrs. Gurley had given the signal, and the fifty-five had pushed back their chairs and set them to the table again with the same racket as before, Laura’s position was a painful one. Everybody pushed, and talked, and laughed, in a hurry to leave the hall, and no one took any notice of her except to stare. After some indecision, she followed the rest through a door. Here she found herself on a verandah facing the grounds of the school. There was a long bench, on which several people were sitting: she took a modest seat at one end. Two of the younger governesses looked at her and laughed, and made a remark. She saw her roommate, Lilith Gordon, arm in arm with a couple of companions. The winker of the tea-table turned out to be a girl of her own age, but of a broader make; she had fat legs, which were encased in thickly-ribbed black stockings. As she passed the bench she left the friend she was with, to come up to Laura and dig her in the ribs.
“Didn’t she like her bread and butter, poor little thing?” she said. Laura shrank from the dig, which was rough; but she could not help smiling shyly at the girl, who looked good-natured. If only she had stayed and talked to her! But she was off and away, her arm round a comrade’s neck.
Besides herself, there was now only an elderly governess left, who was reading. She, Laura, in her solitude, was conspicuous to every eye. But at this juncture up came two rather rollicking older girls, one of whom was fair, with a red complexion. As soon as their loud voices had driven the governess away, the smaller of the two, who had a pronounced squint, turned to Laura.
“Hullo, you kid,” she said, “what’s your name?”
Laura artlessly replied. She was dumbfounded by the storm of merriment that followed. Maria Morell, the fat girl, went purple, and had to be thumped on the back by her friend.
“Oh, my!” she gasped, when she had got her breath. “Oh, my … hold me, someone, or I shall split! Oh, golly! Laura … Tweedle … Rambotham—Laura … Tweedle … Rambotham! …” her voice tailed off again. “Gosh! Was there ever such a name?”
She laughed till she could laugh no more, rocking backwards and forwards and from side to side; while her companion proceeded to make further inquiries.
“Where do you come from?” the squint demanded of Laura, in a businesslike way.
Laura named the township, quaveringly. “What’s your father?”
“He’s dead,” answered the child.
“Well, but I suppose he was alive once wasn’t he, duffer? What was he before he was dead?”
“A barrister.”
“What did he die of?”
“Consumption.”
“How many servants do you keep?”
“One.”
“How much have you got a year?”
“I don’t know.”
“How old are you?”
“Twelve and a quarter.”
“Who made your dress?”
“Mother.”
“Oh, I say, hang it, that’s enough. Stop teasing the kid,” said Maria Morell, when the laughter caused by the last admission had died away. But the squint spied a friend, ran to her, and there was a great deal of whispering and sniggering. Presently the pair came sauntering up and sat down; and after some artificial humming and hawing the newcomer began to talk, in a loud and fussy manner, about certain acquaintances of hers called Tweedledum and Tweedledee. Both the fat girl and the squint “split” with laughter. Laura sat with her hands locked one inside the other; there was no escape for her, for she did not know where to go. But when the third girl put the regulation question: “What’s your name and what’s your father?” she turned on her, with the courage of despair.
“What’s yours?” she retorted hotly, at the same time not at all sure how the big girl might revenge herself. To her relief, the others burst out laughing at their friend’s bafflement.
“That’s one for you, Kate Horner,” said Maria with a chuckle. “Not bad for the kid. Come on, Kid, will you have a walk round the garden?”
“Oh yes, please,” said Laura, reddening with pleasure; and there she was, arm in arm with her fat saviour, promenading the grounds like any other of the fifty-five.
She assumed, as well as she could, an air of feeling at her ease even in the presence of the cold and curious looks that met her. The fat girl was protective, and Laura felt too grateful to her to take it amiss that every now and then she threw back her head and laughed anew, at the remembrance of Laura’s patronymics; or that she still exchanged jokes about them with the other couple, when they met.
But by this time half an hour had slipped away, and the girls were fast disappearing. Maria Morell loitered till the last minute, then said, she, too, must be off to “stew.” Every one was hastening across the verandah laden with books, and disappearing down a corridor. Left alone, Laura made her way back to the dining-hall. Here some of the very young boarders were preparing their lessons, watched over by a junior governess. Laura lingered for a little, to see if no order were forthcoming, then diffidently approached the table and asked the governess if she would please tell her what to do.
“I’m sure I don’t know,” answered that lady, disinclined for responsibility. “You’d better ask Miss Chapman. Here, Maggie, show her where the study is.”
Laura followed the little girl over the verandah and down the corridor. At the end, the child pointed to a door, and on opening this Laura found herself in a very large brightly lighted
