A Popular Schoolgirl Angela Brazil (best novels for beginners TXT) đ
- Author: Angela Brazil
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Ingred, remembering, now the ordeal was over, that she was nervous, melted from the platform, and left him to receive the laurels. He did a characteristic but very kind act, looked round for his pupil, and then, perceiving that she had beaten a retreat, sat down to the piano himself, and, unasked, gave an encore for her. A solo from Dr. Linton was an unexpected treat, especially as he was in the mood for music, and played with a sort of rapture that carried his listeners into an ethereal world of delicate sounds. Ingred, hidden behind a protecting barrier of schoolfellows, could see all the sylphs dancing and the fairy pipers piping as the crisp notes came tripping from his practised fingers. At the end she came back as from a dream, to realize that she was not in elf-land, but in the College Lecture Hall, and that she was sitting on a form next to Miss Strong, who held on her knee a little red-coated, brown-haired boy with Dr. Lintonâs unmistakable dark eyes.
In that instant, as the music ceased, Ingred received quite a sudden and new impression of Miss Strong; there was a tender look on the mistressâs face, as she held her arm around the child, and she whispered something to him that made the dark eyes dance. He slipped from her lap, and hand in hand they went together towards the toy-stall. It was quite a pretty little scene, one of those tiny glimpses into other peopleâs lives that we catch occasionally when the veil of their reserve is for a moment held aside. Ingred looked after them meditatively.
âShouldnât have thought the Snark capable of it,â she ruminated. âPerhaps she likes boys better than girls. Some people do.â
The toy stall, though half depleted of its contents, was still the center of attraction. Lispeth and Althea were displaying what were left of its windmills and whirligigs to friends who bought with an eye to Christmas presents. Miss Strong, reckless in the matter of expense, purchased the chef-dâĆuvre of the whole collectionâ âa wonderful contrivance consisting of two cardboard towers and a courtyard, across which, by means of a tape wound round bobbins, and turned by a handle, walked a miniature procession of wooden soldiers. Little Kenneth Linton received it with open arms.
âBetter let me wrap it up in paper,â urged Lispeth. âSomebody said just now that itâs beginning to snow, and you donât want to have it spoilt before you get it home, do you?â
âN-no,â said Kenneth, relinquishing it doubtfully.
âYouâre a lucky boy,â continued Lispeth, as she made up the parcel. âIsnât that a Teddy Bear in your pocket? And a ball too? There, I believe Iâve used up all the string! What a nuisance! Can anybody get me any from anywhere?â
âIâll find you some in half a jiff,â said Dorrie Barnes, whisking off immediately.
Since the formation of the Junior Rainbow League, Dorrie had taken a liking to Lispeth which amounted to absolute infatuation. She followed her like a pink-faced shadow, and was always at her elbow, sometimes at convenient and sometimes at embarrassing moments. She fled now, like a messenger from Olympus, with the fixed determination of procuring string for her goddess from somewhere. It was not an easy task, for string was a scarce commodity; what there was of it had mostly been already used, and what was left was jealously guarded by its proprietresses, who refused to part with it, even on the plea that it was for the head prefect. Dorrie, however, was a young person of spirit and resource, and she did not mean to be done. One of the trestles that supported the secondary exhibits of toys had rather come to grief, and had been patched up temporarily with stout twine. Her sharp eyes had noted this fact, so, going down on her hands and knees, she managed to creep unobserved under the table, cut the twine with her penknife, and unwound it. She was just congratulating herself upon the success of her achievement when the unexpected happened, or, rather, what might have been expected by anyone with an ounce of forethought. The damaged trestle, no longer held together, promptly gave way, and the table collapsed, burying a squealing Dorrie amid a shower of toys. She was pulled out, agitated but uninjured, and the scattered exhibits were carried to another table. In the confusion of their transit she managed to secrete the piece of twine, the loss of which had been the cause of the whole upset, and presented it quite innocently to Lispeth, who, not knowing that she was receiving stolen goods, thanked her and tied the parcel. Ingred, who had watched the whole comedy, laughed, but did not give away the secret.
âThat childâs an imp!â she said to Quenrede. âBut sheâs a very accomplished imp. Iâll tell you the joke afterwards, not now! Lispeth little knows where her string comes from, and sheâs wrapping up that parcel so placidly! Isnât the Snark looking quite pretty this afternoon? Never saw her with such a color! Well, if youâre ready, Queenie, weâll go over to the hostel and get my things. We can just catch the four oâclock train, if weâre quick. Wait half a sec, though! There goes Dr. Linton with Kenneth. I donât want to
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