“I didn’t either,” responded Jo.
CHAPTER II
MIDNIGHT
‟WAKE up, Nita!”
Nita Anderson grunted and buried her dark head yet deeper in the pillow.
“The bell hasn’t gone yet,” she murmured. “Do go away and stop playing the goat!”
“Well, if I do, you’ll get no supper,” said the caller, not ceasing to be energetic. “Why, no self-respecting person goes to sleep at all before a supper, and here you are, snoring like a hog!”
“I don’t snore!” said Nita indignantly. She cast a wrathful glance at her accuser.
“Thought that would fetch you!” said that damsel gaily. “But you can’t be certain, and now you’ll never know! Hurry up, or all the éclairs will be gone before you get there.” She capered off, and Nita, with a huge yawn, jumped out of bed and sought for her kimono.
There were about a dozen girls in the room to which she found her way presently. As a rule, midnight suppers were conducted in muffled tones, the only illumination a candle-end, and enjoyment was heightened by the knowledge that at any moment the dread form of a too-inquisitive governess, or even of Miss Dampier herself, might appear. It lent zest to the flavour of even a shop-made sausage-roll when you knew that you might not, as Ellen Webster put it dramatically, “be spared to finish it.” But to-night was different, by time-honoured custom. It was just at the end of term, for one thing: for another, it was match night, and every one knew that on match night Miss Dampier and the staff made a practice of sleeping with such soundness that no untoward noises, such as the popping of ginger-beer or lemonade bottles, or the clatter of strange crockery hastily assembled as goblets, could shake their dreams. Supper arrived almost openly on such nights, in proud hampers from home, or tempting-looking parcels from the big shops in Melbourne: not smuggled in in greasy paper bags, the contents of which were apt to become flattened and crumby long before they were eaten. And, in addition to sleeping soundly, no governess thought of alluding, next morning, to heavy eyes or lessons half-prepared. Miss Dampier always inculcated tact in her staff, especially in the last days of term.
There were four beds in the dormitory that Nita entered. One, smoothed over and spread with newspapers, served as supper-table, while on a chest of drawers were ranged the drinks: coffee, that had once been iced, and was now faintly lukewarm—the night was a hot one in December—raspberry vinegar, and a collection of “soft drinks” in bottles. Each girl was supposed to bring her own tooth-glass; but there had been a more surreptitious supper two nights before, at which several of these useful articles had been broken, so that to-night there were deficiencies which had to be filled by such substitutes as the cups of thermos flasks. As may be imagined, a thermos cup is sadly insufficient as a vessel for fizzy drinks; and bitter was the lot of those who depended on them.