"Well, if we each have a protégée, with what we're going to do ourselves, that will make at least twelve principal contributors. I dare say we'll soon fill the one table we're to be allowed for special exhibits," said Freda. "It won't do to crowd things up too much; better have a fair amount of space, so as to show them up well."
"I rather believe twelve is the limit allowed for table exhibits," said Ivy, consulting a note-book. "Yes, that is what we arranged at the General Committee."
"Good! Then we'll soon fix that up."
As the room where the united exhibition was to be held had only limited accommodation, and the Alliance was conducted on lines of strictest fairness and equality, a certain number of feet of wall space and one table were apportioned to each school, so they were obliged to confine the number of their exhibits within specified bounds. The conditions applied equally to all, so there was no particular hardship; it was merely a question of elimination, and making the very wisest choice among the many and varied crafts from which they had to select. Freda considered that anything out of the common, and original, would probably attract the judge's attention, and also that a diversity of objects would be likely to form the most interesting table. She herself was very busy making a beautiful set of illustrations to Hans Andersen's "Goose Girl". She spared no trouble, printing the text of the story in an exquisitely neat hand, so that the little book should be perfect, and completing it with a most artistic cover. Quite early in the term she had fired her friend Natalie Masters with an enthusiasm for illustrating. Natalie could not draw well, but she was decidedly clever with the camera, and she resolved to make a series of photographic views depicting scenes from "The Babes in the Wood". She prepared for her work by arranging costumes for her two little sisters, who were to represent the babes, and for two brothers whom she induced to act as either father, wicked uncle, or ruffians, as the case might be.
The Masters possessed a country cottage in a very beautiful neighbourhood, and the whole family went there for the half-term holiday, so that Natalie was able to get backgrounds for her photographs which she could not have obtained in Kirkton. She posed her models partly in the lovely autumn woods, partly in an old castle, and, for the more domestic scenes, in an ancient farmhouse that was provided with antique furniture, and therefore made an excellent fourteenth-century setting for her figures. The results were mostly very good; allowing for a few failures, where she had miscalculated the exposures, or the light had been insufficient, she got a sufficient number of negatives to be able to select a dozen as satisfactory, and with the aid of a little retouching made a series of beautifully soft sepia prints. These were mounted, three together, on long brown cards, and had a most harmonious and artistic effect. Her models had been excellent, the little sister who was dressed as the boy looking particularly charming in the wood scene, where the two babes were standing among the tall bracken, reaching up to gather the blackberries growing overhead. The last scene of all was a triumph, for by the bait of some tempting crumbs laid upon the leaves, Natalie had been able to take a snapshot of a pair of robins that ventured within a few feet of the two little figures lying clasped in each other's arms under a bramble bush. She felt that in this photograph she had almost rivalled the achievements of Mr. Kearton or Mr. Seton-Thompson, and that she might some day turn her attention to producing a volume of "Wild Nature in the Camera", or some equally ambitious project.
Ivy Linthwaite and her protégée Cissie Milne were concentrating their energies on wood-carving. Ivy had had a course of lessons the previous winter, and had grown sufficiently accustomed to her tools to be able to undertake quite an elaborate piece of work with deep undercutting; but Cissie, who was a beginner under Ivy's tuition, contented herself with doing a lightly-chipped picture-frame.
Nina Campion was busy with a beautiful set of flower paintings in water-colours. Some were done at school under Miss Whitlock's superintendence and some at home, but to both she gave equal care and her very best endeavours.
Rhoda Somerville, when questioned by Nina as to her capacity for making a model as an exhibit, was at first rather dismayed by the project, but on thinking it over she began to see her way more clearly, and consented to undertake the task. She decided that she would try to construct a miniature edition of Castleford Church. She had the whole outline of it in her mind's eye, as well as possessing photographs which would help if her memory failed. She set about it very systematically. First, she begged an old drawing-board from the studio to act as stand. Then out of stiff cardboard she fashioned the model church, cutting out spaces for the windows and covering them with coloured gelatine paper to represent stained glass. When roof, tower, and walls were all neatly fixed together, she put a thin coating of glue over all, and dusted it well with sand, which made a really excellent imitation of the yellowish stone of which Castleford was built. With the aid of a paint-brush she made the traceries round the windows and some attempt at gargoyles on the tower, and reproduced the dark oak of the heavy door, studded with iron nails. The churchyard next claimed her attention. She mixed a quantity of plaster of Paris, and put it down all round the church, which cemented the model firmly to the board that she had used for a stand, and also gave the effect of uneven ground. She smoothed down the path, and while the plaster was still wet, stuck in little pieces of sanded cardboard for grave-stones, and small twigs of yew to represent the ancient gnarled trees that surrounded the chancel. A coat of green paint, applied to the cement when dry, was supplemented by some beautiful moss, which her mother sent her from the woods at home, and which gave a finishing touch to the whole. The little model was really extremely pretty when all was completed, and such an exact copy in miniature of Castleford Church that Mildred declared she could almost imagine that she heard the organ inside it.
The progress of Rhoda's work had been a subject of intense interest to many of the girls, who had watched it stage by stage from its first rough commencement, and they were agreed that it would be one of the most uncommon exhibits on their special table, if not in the whole of the show.
Mildred, who felt responsible for Rhoda at St. Cyprian's, was glad to find that her friend could make so important a contribution to the Alliance. She realized that any success in the exhibition would be a great point in Rhoda's favour, and likely largely to increase her popularity in the school. Rhoda herself had taken keen pleasure in her construction, independently of its value as an exhibit. Her deft hands enjoyed making things, and her thoughts had all the time been centred at Castleford. She was too happy at St. Cyprian's to be home-sick; nevertheless she missed the Vicarage, and anything which reminded her of it was a doubly-welcome pastime.