The Manor School

by L. T. Meade

"She's in great trouble, poor thing!" said Maud; "but I think she is frightening herself unnecessarily. What do you say, Mary?"

"I say this," answered Mary somewhat defiantly—"that, as we went into the thing, we ought to carry it through; and I am sure Janet Bouverie will agree with me. You have always been our head, Sukey, and on the whole we have put up with you, but what I say is this—don't blow both hot and cold. You asked the girls, and even if there is a spice of danger—and surely the greatest part of the fun is in that very fact—we ought to stick to our words."

"I won't—I won't!" screamed Susan. "Oh, you drive me mad!"

"Leave us, Mary," said Maud; "I will manage her."

Mary, with a look of contempt on her face, left the room.

Maud now knelt by Susan and did her best to comfort her. She did not find her task at all an easy one. Susan, who was thoroughly selfish, had been frightened out of her habitual self-control. There is no greater coward than the bully, and Maud could not help wondering why she had ever made a friend of this girl, as she knelt by her side, patted her hands, brushed back her hair, and did all she could to soothe her.

By and by the great gong sounded for evening prayers, and Susan, wiping away her tears and doing her best to recover her composure, followed Maud into the central hall. It was only occasionally, on Sundays and on special festivals, that the beautiful little chapel, which had been used in the olden time when Penwerne Manor was a priory, was lighted and warmed for Divine services; but on Sundays it was a perfect picture to see the girls and their mistresses in the lovely little place. Miss Peacock always attended private chapel at the Manor, and many of the girls preferred it to any other church in the neighborhood.

Now, as usual, the great hall was used, and as usual the girls assembled. The electric light fell on their bright heads and graceful young figures. Miss Peacock mounted the little dais and read the evening lesson, prayed the evening prayer, and looked around her. Just for an instant her eyes rested upon Susan. Her tear-stained face and wretched appearance rather pleased the head-mistress than otherwise. The same thought that filled her mind occupied the minds of many of the girls present. Star felt inclined to pity Susan. Louisa Twining said to herself:

"Whatever the poor thing has done—and I'm sure I don't like her—she has plenty of heart."

And then the voice of the head-mistress rose in the stillness. After reading a brief lesson she knelt to pray. There was generally a hymn sung by all the girls, but on this occasion it was left out. Miss Peacock prayed the evening collect, then pausing, she said a few words in a solemn voice. These words startled each girl who listened to them. They were to the effect that God in His mercy might bless the means used for the recovery of dear Christian Mitford, who was lying dangerously ill.