The Third Class at Miss Kaye's: A School Story

by Angela Brazil

There was only one flaw in Sylvia's happiness. Mercy, who was now seventeen, was to leave Heathercliffe House to be mistress of Dale Side. Both Miss Kaye and Dr. Severn thought her right place was with her father, and that her schooldays might fitly come to a close.

"I couldn't part from her again," said the doctor, "not even to send her to so short a distance as Aberglyn. We've still to learn to know each other, and the more we're in each other's company the better. I can arrange for visiting masters to give her lessons in painting and music, but she's such a tall girl, I feel she's almost a woman, and will soon begin to take care of me, instead of allowing me to take care of her."

To Sylvia, Mercy's absence would leave a great blank, but she was consoled when Dr. Severn promised that she should be their first visitor, and that he would ask her mother to allow her to spend part of the August holidays with them at Craigwen, where Linda and her brothers would be able to join them constantly for walks and excursions. There was little more of the summer term left for anyone at Heathercliffe House. The few remaining weeks passed quickly by, and brought the annual garden party and prize giving, with which Miss Kaye always celebrated the breaking up. It was the great occasion of the school year, and many of the girls' parents came over to Aberglyn on purpose to be present. The day fortunately proved fine, and all the thirty-four pupils found themselves in such effervescent spirits that the mistresses had a hard task to keep their attention during the morning classes.

"Connie Camden, sit up straight and place your feet together," said Miss Arkwright. "I cannot allow you to have your arm round Brenda's waist, even if it is the last day. Linda, put that lozenge in your pocket; if I see it again, I will take it from you. Marian, tie your hair ribbon. Gwennie, you have lost your place three times; I'm astonished at you! Sylvia, don't fidget; I told you not to touch Nina's ruler. Nina, shut your pencil box at once. Now, Jessie, begin again, and parse more carefully; antelope is not an abstract noun."

It was certainly difficult to recall the rules of grammar when the girls remembered that this was actually the very last lesson, and that for seven whole weeks their books would be lying idle, the schoolrooms would be deserted, the blackboard and maps put away, and they themselves would be enjoying the country or seaside in company with their respective families. Even Marian answered at random, and poor Miss Arkwright was getting into despair, when fortunately for all the bell rang, and they were at liberty to disperse. There was still enough discipline left to cause the class to walk decorously through the door, but once outside in the passage they danced about like a little crew of savages, and, tearing downstairs, ran into the garden to work off their excitement, leaving their teacher standing with a sigh of relief at her open desk to put the last marks to their now finished exercise books.

"We're going to Whitby for the holidays," said Connie. "We've taken a furnished house, and our cousins are coming to stay next door. There are eight of them and eleven of us, so shan't we just have a jolly time? Hurrah!"

"We're off to Scotland," said Nina. "And Mother's promised I may take all the coach rides that the others do. I haven't had a cold now since Easter."

"Don't boast," cried Brenda, "or you'll be sure to catch one this afternoon, and Miss Kaye'll put you to bed, and say you aren't well enough to travel to-morrow."

"She shan't!" declared Nina indignantly. "I wouldn't stay there. I'd get up and go home if I were coughing and sneezing till I couldn't see out of my eyes."

"Then they'll roll you up in a blanket," said Connie, who loved to tease, "with a shawl tied over your head, and carry you down to a cab as they did with Rosie when she began with chicken pox and was sent to the fever hospital. You'll have to travel in the luggage van, because everybody'll think you're infectious, and won't have you in their carriage. The doctor'll go with you, and keep taking your temperature and feeling your pulse, and telling you to put out your tongue, and listening at your bronchial tube all the time. He won't be able to hear much, though, because of the rattling of the train. Perhaps he'll take it for the rattling of your breath, and think you're very bad! It'll be a most exciting journey for you."