“If I were left a widow,” she wrote, “I should get the children into orphanages, or persuade rich friends to adopt them. Then I would spend the three hundred pounds in buying new clothes and staying at the best hotels, and try to get married again to somebody who could provide for me better.”
Among the flights of fancy in which the Fifth Form were forced to indulge were a railway collision, a fire, a bicycle accident, an escape of gas, the swallowing of poison, the bursting of the kitchen boiler, a case of choking, and an infectious epidemic. On the whole they rather enjoyed the fun of airing their views, and when asked to propose fresh topics had suggested such startling catastrophes as “A German Invasion,” “A Revolution,” “A Volcanic Eruption,” “A Famine,” and “A Zeppelin Raid.”
Rejecting the first four, Miss Gibbs had chosen the last for discussion, and for fully ten minutes the Form, in imagination, dwelt in an atmosphere of explosives. They clutched their few valuables that were within reach, donned dressing-gowns and bedroom slippers, each seized a blanket, and all descended to the cellars with the utmost dispatch of which they were capable, while bombs came crashing through the roof, and the walls of the house tottered to ruin.
“I shall never dare to go to sleep again!” shivered Fauvette, appalled at the mental picture presented to her.
“Are the Zepps likely to come, Miss Gibbs?” enquired Ardiune.
“Not so likely at this time of year as in winter. 70 Still, of course, one never can tell,” replied the mistress, anxious to justify the usefulness of her emergency lessons. “It is wise to know what to do. We ought all to adopt the Boy Scouts’ motto—‘Be Prepared’.”
“And suppose we ever do hear dreadful noises in the middle of the night?” said Raymonde, gazing with solemn, awestruck eyes at the teacher.
“Then you must make for the cellar without delay,” replied Miss Gibbs emphatically.
If she could have seen Raymonde’s expression, as that young lady turned her head for a moment towards Aveline, she would have been surprised. The serious apprehension had changed to dancing mischief. Even so well-seasoned a mistress as Miss Gibbs, however, cannot be aware of every sub-current in her Form. Human nature has its limits.
Raymonde left the class-room chuckling to herself, and at the earliest convenient moment summoned a committee of the Mystic Seven.