Hollyhock: A Spirit of Mischief

It was the final straw to Lady Leucha when Barbara and Dorothy Fraser declared boldly that they could not stand such a cruel fuss about nothing.

'If I were to tell our father, the Marquis, I really do not know what he 'd say,' remarked Lady Dorothy.

'Almost to break a girl's jaw just for a mere joke,' added Lady Barbara. 'Well, we intend to be friends with Hollyhock, whether you wish it or not, Leucha.'

So Lady Leucha felt herself to be the most desolate girl in the whole school, the one person who clung to her side being little Daisy Watson, whom she did not like and only put up with.

The next morning Hollyhock was as well as ever, and told her sisters that if Leuchy would make up with her, she was willing to extend the hand of forgiveness.

'You really are noble in your own funny way, Hollyhock,' said Jasmine. She repeated Hollyhock's words to Leucha, taking care to do so when a number of the girls were present. But Lady Leucha, whatever she was, was obstinate. On her father's side she was well-born; but her mother was a cross-grained lady, extremely ambitious and proud of nothing at all, and Lady Leucha took after her mother. She wondered if it was possible for her to get out of this odious school.

She turned her white face, with her small, pale eyes, and fixed them on Jasmine. 'I presume your silly sister wants an answer.'

'She 's not silly,' replied Jasmine; 'but she would like an answer.'

'Well, tell her from me that as far as the North Pole is from the South, so am I from her, and ever will be. There now, what do you think of that? I don't care who hears me. I 'm accustomed to ladies, not to common little Scotch girls who tell lies.'

Jasmine was too gentle, too firm, too really noble to make any response; but as she went out of the room she was followed by a crowd of girls, a few of whom turned round and hissed at Leucha. The hisses were very soft, but, at the same time, very distinct; and this was the final straw in the wretched girl's misery.

As to Hollyhock, she was, greatly owing to Leucha's conduct, now the ruling spirit in the school, not by any means as regards lessons, but as regards what schoolgirls treasure so much, popularity and good-fellowship. Even Barbara and Dorothy Fraser went boldly to her side, and congratulated her on her self-restraint, and even apologised for their cousin's unseemly conduct.

Hollyhock's fine eyes lit up with a great glow. 'I do not care,' she said. 'Poor lassie! I pity her; I do, truly!'

'You are a wonderful girl, Hollyhock,' said Dorothy; 'and may my sister and I join your circle to-night? And will you tell us some bogy tales?'

'I will that,' said Hollyhock.

'And here's a hand, my trusty frien's,And gie's a hand o' thine.'

She sang the words, and they were taken up immediately by every girl in the school, with the exception of Leucha and the miserable, depressed Daisy. But Hollyhock knew that she had her punishment to undergo. Was not her own mother a Cameron of the great race, and would she disgrace herself by crying out and making a fuss? 'The de'il is in me all the same,' she whispered under her breath; 'but he 'll not show his little horns until the Flower Girls are back at The Garden.'

She was a passionate little poet, and she now sang softly under her breath:

The height of my disdain shall beTo laugh at him, to blush for thee;To love thee still, but go no moreA-begging at a beggar's door.'

Then she burst forth in her really glorious voice with such fervour that every girl within reach heard her:

The meteor flag of EnglandShall yet terrific burn,Till danger's troubled night depart,And the star of peace return.Then, then, ye ocean-warriors!Our song and feast shall flowTo the fame of your name,When the storm has ceased to blow,When the fiery fight is heard no more,And the storm has ceased to blow!'

In spite of every effort, Hollyhock could not help putting a touch of her beloved Scots accent into the great and glorious words of Thomas Campbell.

'Hollyhock, you 'll promise not to do any mischief while we are away?' said Jasmine in her most coaxing voice when the hour for departure had arrived. She hated beyond words leaving her sister at this crisis.

'Ah, well,' replied Hollyhock, 'I'll make no promises. I 'll tell no stories, and if things happen, why, then, I am not to blame.'

'Oh, Holly darling, you frighten me!'

'Don't be frightened, Jasmine; I 'm learning to be such a good little girl.'

There was no help for it. The four Flower Girls departed, leaving the fifth, and the naughty one, behind.

Now it was as impossible for Hollyhock to keep out of mischief as it was for the kitchen cat at The Garden to refuse to drink cream, but Hollyhock meant at the same time to go warily to work. Some more fresh girls were coming on this special Saturday, which made it all the easier for her to carry out her little plan. The Fraser girls were now devoted to her, but her slave – the one who would do anything on earth for her – was Margaret Drummond.

Hollyhock arranged, therefore, that Margaret should be her accomplice on the present occasion. Her tales of bogies and ghosties – all of them with a slight soupçon of truth in them – had excited the wonder and fearful admiration of the schoolgirls, and when she suggested, as she did suggest, that 'poor little Leuchy might wipe the ghostie's hair for her,' there was a perfect chorus of delighted applause.

'But he won't come; he won't dare to come,' said Margaret Drummond.

'Meg, hist, dear; let's whisper. Keep it to yourself. There's no ghost; only they think, poor things, that there is, and that I dry his dripping locks. Well, I want you to impersonate the ghost to-night. I 'll dress you up, and you shall cross the path of Leuchy. Why, she'll turn deadly white when she sees you at it.'

'But, oh! I 'm frightened. I 'll get into trouble,' said Margaret.

'And you won't do that for me? I thought for sure you loved me.'

'I'd give my life for you,' said Margaret; 'but this is different.'

'It's easy to talk about giving the life, for that's not asked; but what I want is the love, and the proof of the love is that you shall dress as poor ghostie, and beg in a mighty mournful voice of Leuchy to dry your dripping hair. I have got an old cloak and a peaked hat that belonged to my grandmother's family, and I 'll alter your face a wee bit, and nobody'll recognise you like that. Now come, Meg, you won't refuse? I 'd do it myself, and do it well; only I might be discovered, but you wouldn't. Who'll think of Meg Drummond turning into the ghost? You must clasp your skeleton hands and say very mournfully, "Dry my locks, sweet maid of England!" That's all. She'll be sure to go out into the grounds, and the rest of us will be close by, ready to catch her up if she swoons; and she 'll never guess to her dying day but that she has seen a ghost.'

The plot was prepared with immense care. It was the most tremendously exciting thing that the girls had ever heard of, and even the Frasers were drawn in, more particularly as the worst it could possibly do was to give that naughty, proud Leucha a fright. They were very sick of their cousin, and very angry with her; and it was finally decided that the girl who was to come to her rescue in the moment of her terrible extremity was to be Hollyhock herself. The others were all to fly out of sight. Hollyhock was to desire ghostie to go, and was to support Leucha into the house. After that – well, no one quite knew what would come!

CHAPTER XVII.

THE GREAT CONSPIRACY

There was suppressed excitement in the school, that sort which cannot be described, but which most assuredly must be felt. Mrs Macintyre put it down to the advent of the fifteen girls who had just arrived from Edinburgh.

Leucha stirred herself and made a vain endeavour to become friends with them; but they were Scots to the backbone, and went over instantly in a body to Hollyhock's circle. This was so immense now that it actually comprised the entire school, except the poor miserable Daisy and the naughty Leucha, whose anger against Hollyhock, combined with a kind of undefined admiration, which she would not for the life of her admit, grew fiercer and stronger hour by hour. It was like a great flame burning in her breast. She would do for Hollyhock yet, but how and in what fashion?

Hollyhock, meanwhile, collected her forces round her. The days were getting very short. The nights were long and cold. Winter was on the English girls – a Scottish winter, which caused them to shiver, notwithstanding their comforts. Leucha was, however, far too proud to confess that she did not like the weather. She spoke of the school in tones of rapture to the new girls, who barely looked at her and scarcely listened. Then they wont, some of them silently, some of them with a rush, to Hollyhock.

Leucha forced herself to praise the place, and nudged Daisy to do likewise; but her praise was feigned, and the Scots girls did not pay this uninteresting Leucha much attention. The fact that she had now been a fortnight at the school did not affect them at all. The further fact that she was the daughter of the Earl of Crossways had not the least influence on them. They were jolly, merry, everyday sort of girls; there was nothing specially remarkable about them, but as they themselves said, 'Did not they belong to Old Scotia, and was not that fact sufficient for any lassie?' Hollyhock entertained them in her swift, bright way. She was not specially impressed by them, but they were Scots of the Scots, as she was herself.

So Leucha and the miserable Daisy spent their time alone, Leucha arguing and wrangling with Daisy, and saying to her once or twice, 'What earthly good are you, Daisy Watson? Can you not think of any plan by which to defeat that mischievous Scotch brat?'

'I know of nothing,' replied Daisy. 'How can two English girls fight against sixty and more? It isn't to be done, Leucha dear.'

'It shall be done; it must be done!' retorted Leucha.

'Well, I can't see my way,' replied Daisy. 'The best plan of all would be for you to sink your silly pride, Leucha, and to join the others.'

'And have her queen it over me,' said Leucha.

'Well, I don't see how you can help it,' answered Daisy. 'She does queen it over you, for it isn't only the Scots girls who turn to her, but the English and the French. I don't see for myself what possible hope you have. Never yet since the world was made could two overcome sixty-eight. And, for that matter,' continued Daisy, 'I 'm feeling so dull that although I am fond of you, Leucha, I really am strongly tempted to join that merry group, who are always singing and laughing and making the hours go by on wings. It is very dull indeed for me to have no one but you to talk to, and you grumbling all the time.'

'Oh, I saw it would come to this,' said Leucha, rising in her rage. 'My last friend – my very last! I 'll write to mother and get her to remove me from this school.'

'Oh, I won't desert you, Leucha; only I do wish you were a little more cheerful, and that we might join the others in their sport. You made such a fuss just on the day Hollyhock came' —

'Don't mention her name; she makes me shudder!'

'Well, I needn't; but you made such a fuss about securing the Summer Parlour, and having a fire there, and concocting plans, and having a lot of the girls with you – a great deal more than half the school; but you never go near the Summer Parlour, and after to-night you won't have any further right to it. Do come out, Leucha dear, and make another effort to build up the fire. If the girls see us with a glowing fire, a good many of them will come in for certain sure. I have been asking the servants on the quiet how the thing is done, and it really seems to be quite easy. You collect faggots, which I know I can get for you, and small bits of coal; and I tell you what – whisper, Leucha – I have been saving up a few candle-ends, and they are grand for making a fire burn. Let's come along and try.'

'No lady ought to know how to light a fire,' said Lady Leucha.

'Oh, nonsense,' replied Daisy. 'It is a very good thing to learn; and, anyhow, you needn't spoil your dainty fingers if I undertake the job. Nothing will collect the girls round us – the English girls, I mean – like seeing us seated by the glowing fire.'

'Well, anything is better than this,' said Leucha. 'And if you have really collected the candle-ends and the faggots and the morsels of coal, why, perhaps we 'll succeed.'

'Yes, yes, of course we'll succeed,' said Daisy. 'What in the world is there to hinder us? We have got our wits, I presume; and when we sit in the Summer Parlour with a great blazing fire lighting up the place, I shouldn't be a scrap surprised if Mary Barton, Agnes Featherstonhaugh, and others joined us.'

'I wouldn't have those Frasers now if they went on their bended knees,' remarked Leucha; 'but if you will light the fire, Daisy, I don't mind sitting by and watching you. I really, as the daughter of the Earl of Crossways, cannot undertake so dirty a task.'

'All right,' replied Daisy, 'if you do think so – and I'm quite as good as you, remember – I 'll do my best. I 'll just run along now to the Summer Parlour and see that the materials for lighting the fire are there, Then I 'll come back and fetch you.'

'Yes,' replied Leucha; 'I may as well see you at the job. You are certain sure to fail, but conceit will have its way.'

'Dear, dear,' thought Daisy Watson, 'what a very unpleasant girl Leucha is becoming! I 'd leave her this blessed minute and go over to Hollyhock, only perhaps Lady Crossways might be angry. Leucha gets more like her mother each day – a kind of sneering look about her face, which really gives her a most disagreeable expression. But friendship is friendship, and I won't forsake her if I can help it.'

So Daisy flew to the Summer Parlour, which was just perceptible in the twilight. No place could look more cold and comfortless; but Daisy was so madly anxious to do something that she set about her task with a will. She had secretly purloined some faggots, bits of coal, and candle-ends; but she had quite forgotten to ascertain whether the faggots were dry or not; and she was equally ignorant of the fact that as a rule even dry faggots require a small supply of paper to enable them to 'catch' and attack the nice little black lumps of coal, which, with the aid of the candle-ends, might yield a glowing, gleaming, beautiful fire. She had made friends with one of the servants, and had therefore an idea how to lay her fire. She had also secured a candle, one solitary whole candle, which she placed in a brass candlestick.

To all appearance everything was now ready. She felt certain that her fire could not fail, and went back in high spirits to Leucha.

'Come,' she said, 'come. I 'm ready to set fire to the pile.'

A good many girls saw these two go out. They had wrapped themselves up in warm cloaks, which were quite suited to the frosty weather.

Leucha shivered as she walked in the direction of the Summer Parlour. The new girls were now busily engaged at a private and luxurious tea with Mrs Macintyre, which was the invariable tribute paid to each new pupil. They were, therefore, out of the way.

'The hour strikes,' said Hollyhock. 'Come along, Meg.'

Meg shrank and shivered. 'Oh, but, Holly, I'd much rather not.'

'It is too late to change now, dear Meg. You must just think of the ghost, and the ghost only. Come at once to the ghostie's hut, and I 'll dress you up. – Lassies, the rest of you had best keep out of sight, although you are welcome to linger in the shrubbery to see the fun. But now listen. When I give the words, "Go, ghostie! Run, ghostie, run! I cannot dry your wet hair this night, for I have a lassie lying in a swoon across my arms," then you must scatter, scatter with all the speed you have in you, or the sport will be spoiled.'

So, while Leucha and Daisy were struggling in vain with the fire in the Summer Parlour, which flared up occasionally with a woeful gleam, and then expired, and while Leucha felt crosser and crosser each moment, and the night fell over the land, in the ghost's hut Margaret Drummond was being dressed up to impersonate the hapless youth who had suffered death by drowning on the night before his wedding.

Hollyhock was in the wildest excitement as she arranged Margaret Drummond for her part. Margaret was fortunately extremely tall and thin. Her hands were made to represent those of a skeleton by means of a quantity of white chalk and black charcoal. Her face was likewise covered with this ghastly mixture. She was then wrapped from head to foot in an old Cameron cloak, which Hollyhock had secured from The Garden during the week. On her head she wore an old-fashioned peaked hat and a wig with long, dripping locks. Her own hair had been tied tightly out of sight.

'You are wonderful,' sighed Hollyhock. 'There isn't a boy in the land that could beat you. Now, then, stay where you are until I come to fetch you. Then, when I say, "Fly, ghostie! away, ghostie!" you can go back to the hut and take off the disguise which turns you into so fearsome an object. I have brought a jug of hot water, and here is a basin, and you can wash your face and hands. Leuchy will certainly not recognise you. And now I must be off, for the conspiracy – the best of all – has begun.'

Hollyhock, beside herself with mirth, had, however, not forgotten to give the poor ghostie an old-fashioned lantern, which she was to hold in such a position as to show off her skeleton hands and ghastly face. This was left lighted in the hut. There was little time to lose, for soon the girls would be expected to return to the house for their excellent Saturday supper, a special treat which was given to all those girls who could not go home.

Hollyhock rushed up to the Summer Parlour. The night was clear and cold, but there was not a breath of wind blowing. All in vain the two girls were bending over the fire, which refused to catch. Heaps of girls were peeping in and watching the efforts of the two who were trying to light the fire.

'I never did such dirty work in my life before,' said Lady Leucha. 'Come back to the house, Daisy. I shall be sick if I sit and shiver here any longer.'

'There 's one more bit of candle,' replied Daisy. 'Perhaps that will do the job. I never heard of a fire being so difficult to set glowing.'

'And I never heard of a girl being so vain and silly,' remarked Leucha.

Hollyhock whispered to her companions, who immediately dispersed into different parts of the grounds. The night was perfect for her purpose. She felt half-mad with delight. She was only sorry for Daisy, who meant no harm, but was in leading-strings to that proud Lady Leucha. Leucha deserved her fate richly. Daisy did not.

Hollyhock whispered certain directions to her followers to try to get Daisy out of the way. This they promised, feeling quite sure that they could easily manage it.

Just as Daisy's last morsel of candle expired a voice sounded from afar: 'Daisy Watson, you are wanted in the house. Go in as fast as you can!'

Two or three girls boldly entered the Summer Parlour, clasped Daisy by both arms, and dragged her toward the house. Leucha was now alone. She was wild with rage at this final desertion.

Wrapping her cloak round her, she prepared to step out of the Parlour. The Scots, the English, and the French girls all hid behind trees. Hollyhock was near, but not too near. Leucha wrapped her cloak tightly round her. It was cold! She would be glad to get in out of the bitter air. She made up her mind to write that very night to her mother to remove her at any cost from this horrible school; but although she made up her mind, she knew quite well that the said mother would pay no attention to her. Was it not the aim of her life to have her only girl educated in the Palace of the Kings? And she was the last person to be influenced by mere girlish sadness and loneliness.

All these thoughts flashed through Leucha's mind as she stepped into the still, frosty night. She went a few yards; then she stood motionless, transfixed, turned for the time being into stone. What – what was this horror coming to meet her? A tall figure with skeleton hands and face, wearing a very mournful expression in the eyes – a figure that walked slowly, solemnly, such as she had certainly never seen before. She felt herself alone and a long way from home, for the Summer Parlour was quite a distance from the house. The figure held a lantern in its skeleton hands, which was so cleverly arranged that it lit up the worn features and revealed the dripping locks.

'Dry my hair, my wet hair!' cried the ghost in a deep sepulchral voice. 'Kind English maid, be so kind as to dry my hair!'

Leucha gave vent to an irrepressible shriek of horror. She had always hitherto laughed at the bare idea of the ghost; but now most truly she believed it. The ghost – the ghost in very truth – was there. He was facing her; he stood before her; he stood in her very path. How mournful, how horrible, was his voice! How more than fearful was his appearance! Her blood ran cold; her hair seemed to stand upright on her head. Indescribable was her horror.

'Go, ghostie!' suddenly cried a familiar voice, 'You have no right to torment an English maid. I 'll come out presently and dry your locks; but be off with you now, be off! Get away, or I'll never dry your dripping locks again!'

The ghost gave a hollow moan. There was the sound of many feet running in different directions, and Leucha would certainly have fainted had not Hollyhock put her firm young arm round her.

Oh, how she hated Hollyhock! And yet how she loved her at that moment! The warm feeling of human flesh and blood was delicious. Lady Leucha clung to Hollyhock and laid her head on her shoulder.

'Come, girlie; come,' said Hollyhock in her most seductive tones. 'My Lord Alasdair had no right to ask you to dry his locks. Lean on me, lassie; lean on me. You did get an awful shock.'

'Oh, oh,' sobbed Leucha, 'then I did see a ghost!'

'You saw what you saw. Come along home now. I 'll see to you.'

'You are – Hollyhock,' said Leucha.

'Yes; and whyever not?'

'Then there is a ghost, and you are going to dry his hair! How can you – how can you?'

'Poor ghost! I must do my little bit to comfort him,' said Hollyhock. 'Eh, but you are a real brave lass, that you are, Leuchy, my pet. Now lean on me, and I 'll bring you in to the cosy house, and the warm fire, and the good supper. There's no malice in Hollyhock. She's only a bit wild. Oh, but won't I give it to that ghost; he had no right to ask those services of an English girl!'

Firmer and firmer did Hollyhock support her trembling companion, and the girl who hated her, but who clung to her so tightly at that moment, entered the house with Hollyhock's arms about her.

There were a number of girls in the great hall – the most magnificent hall in the country.

'Poor thing!' said Hollyhock, 'the ghostie walks this night, and I must run to dry his wet locks; but get something hot for Leuchy to drink, and comfort her all you can, lassies. A Scots ghost – my word! he had no right to beg for the services of a maid from England. I of Caledonia will go out and dry his wet locks!'

CHAPTER XVIII.

LEUCHA'S TERROR

While Leucha was undergoing her heavy punishment, and while the supposed ghostie was walking in the grounds of the Palace of the Kings, a very different group had assembled at the dear old Garden. Mrs Constable's school, her Annex, was filling fast with the bonniest boys that England and Scotland could produce.

Mr Lennox kept a holiday for the great occasion, and on Saturday night there were high jinks at The Garden. The only one of that happy party who felt, in spite of herself, a little anxious, a little nervous, was Jasmine, for she could not help being concerned about the defiant expression in the bright eyes of Hollyhock. She thought of Holly notwithstanding all the fun and the merriment, but the delight of talking again to her dear brother-cousin Jasper dispelled her fears. She had little time for serious thought. This was surely a right good day, and she was soon enjoying it as fully as the rest. Of course, Mrs Constable brought her strange laddies with her, as well as her own dear boys, and many and gay were the songs they sang and the games they played. Two of the songs they sang were the following, from the beloved lips of Robert Burns: