Hollyhock: A Spirit of Mischief

by L. T. Meade

'No; I 'll tell no more,' said Agnes. 'Holly wouldn't wish it. But, oh, to think of that noble girl being spoken of like that! Oh, the cruel, cruel, angry girl! My heart bleeds for our darling!'

'She 'll not get the prize,' said a Scots girl. 'Think you now that Ardshiel would give a prize to one who abuses his kinswoman?'

'She has put her foot in it by so doing,' said another.

'We'd best let her alone, Agnes; and you keep your confession to yourself. You had no right to read the paper,' said Meg Drummond in her solemn voice.

'I had not,' replied Agnes; 'but seeing that you were so troubled by a bit of a lark on account of your poor soul, Meg, I thought I 'd follow suit.'

'Well,' said Meg, who came out a good deal when Hollyhock was absent, 'my mother tells me my immortal soul is safe now. I can pray again, and I 'm happy; but yours is a different case altogether, Agnes. Anyhow, you have done the deed, and one of the lockets will never go to Earl Crossways' daughter.'

The girls talked together for a little longer, all of them rejoicing in the thought that Leucha had now no possible chance of a locket. She was so thoroughly disliked in the school that they positively rejoiced in this certainty, and forgave Agnes her mean trick of looking at the essay.

But Hollyhock, up in her room, having bluntly refused to listen to any of the words of the naughty girl who had read a part of the essay, was nevertheless wild with rage, and could not possibly rest. That sense of forgiveness which she had felt when seated with her companions round the ingle-nook had now absolutely vanished. She would not demean herself by listening to words which were not meant for her to hear; but for the time being at least her little heart was sore, very sore, with anger. 'Oh Leuchy, whyever are you so spiteful, and why does my head split, and why does my heart ache for love of one who could be so cruel to me? Did I not repent over and over and over again? She has done for herself; but when I go into the danger zone, I go into it now in very truth. Perhaps when poor Hollyhock is no longer flitting about the place you 'll think more kindly of me, Leuchy. I was willing for your sake to make a final effort to be good, but the wish has died. I 'm a bad lass, and you 'll describe me as I am, when the essay on the kitchen cat is read aloud. Oh Leuchy, I would not be so mean!'

All night long Hollyhock tossed from side to side on her restless couch, thinking and planning how she would perform that feat which would stamp her as the bravest lassie in the school.

There was one action which she could perform, one action which was so full of danger that no other girl in the school would attempt it. It was, in short, the following. On the night when she entered the danger zone, she would enter it on her own Arab horse, Lightning Speed. She could easily get this brilliant little animal over to the Palace of the Kings by the aid of Magsie, who was more devoted to her than ever. She would ride her horse, Lightning Speed, in the dead of night, with the moon shining brightly, up a certain gorge which led to the source of one of the streams that kept the great lake supplied with water.