Meade L. T.
Hollyhock: A Spirit of Mischief

CHAPTER XV.
CREAM

The kitchen cat was a very gentle beastie, except in the matter of killing birds and mice. She had the usual fascination of her species where these small victims were concerned; and she enjoyed life in the way cats do, eating when hungry, and sleeping the rest of her days. She slept now with the greatest comfort under the silken eider-down quilt. She rejoiced in the welcome warmth and purred softly to herself, not even troubling to regard the saucer of cream until she had had her snooze. By-and-by she would attack her cream, being partial to that beverage; but for the present she would slumber on, a creature without care, without fear; a gentle, admirable kitchen cat. She brought up her families when they arrived with all a mother's rectitude and propriety, and when they were old enough to leave her, got rid of them as quickly as possible – which means that she took no further notice of them. She regarded them no longer as hers; they were cats, and she preferred them out of the way. At the present time she had just reared and got rid of a large family, and was in that luxurious state of bliss when the good things of life appealed to her. Her purring went on for some time, then ceased, being followed by deep slumber.

Meanwhile Hollyhock and her chosen companions were amusing themselves in various ways downstairs. Supper would be to the minute at a quarter to nine. Supper was a very simple meal, a stand-up affair, consisting in winter of hot bread-and-milk, in summer of cold milk and biscuits.

The Lady Leucha thought her supper a very poor affair, but she was too cold, after her vain attempts to light the fire in the Summer Parlour, to resist the steaming-hot, delicious milk. She took it standing up not far from Hollyhock. She resolved in her own mind to take no notice whatever of Hollyhock. Jacko was to the Lady Leucha as one who did not exist, but in her busy, vain little brain she was forming schemes for the undoing of this impertinent Scots lass.

Lady Leucha was not specially clever, but she was what might be called 'cute,' and although during her first week at school she had had no special desire to push herself forward in any way whatsoever, yet now that Hollyhock – or, rather, Jack – had come, she was fully determined to crush her, if not by guile, then by other means. She, a young lady of distinction, could not stand such impudence; she, the daughter of the Earl of Crossways, would not be bullied by a mere nobody like Jacko. But, unfortunately for herself, Leucha was not nearly so clever in forming plans for the destruction of her enemy as was the dark-eyed, flashing Hollyhock, who would dare and dare again until she showed by her ways and devices that she was invincible.

'Come, girls, it is time for you to take your supper and be off to bed,' said Miss Kent, who observed that Leucha was seated close to the fire in the great sitting-room, shivering not a little, and that Hollyhock, with glowing cheeks and sparkling eyes, had established herself at the far end of the large room, and was relating bogy tales with great rapidity to her ever-increasing host of adorers. One by one fresh girls crept up to join this group, and one by one, whatever their nationality, they were heartily welcomed by Hollyhock, who called out in her clear, sweet voice – for very clear and sweet it could be – 'Lassies, make room for the stranger. Be you English or Scots, my lady dear, you are welcome to join my circle.'

Thus the circle began to grow very large, and the hushed, dramatic voice of the narrator caused her listeners to hold their breath, until occasionally they burst into fits of hearty laughter. But the hour had come. The bowls of bread-and-milk smoked on the sideboard, and all the girls hurried to begin and finish their food. After supper they went to say good-night to Mrs Macintyre, who prayed God to bless them and give them all 'a good and peaceful night.' Then, accompanied by Miss Kent, whose office it was to see them to their rooms, they went upstairs.

Leucha had slightly recovered her spirits, but not absolutely. As a matter of fact, she was wild with jealousy. She had sat by the fire with Dorothy and Barbara Fraser and Daisy Watson, but all the other girls had gone over to the large circle, where the voice was so mysterious and the eyes of the speaker so bright. In their heart of hearts, the daughters of the Marquis of Killin were keenly anxious to leave their dull friend Leucha, and join the merry, excited group at the other end of the room. This, however, they dared not do, for their mother would not have wished them to desert Leucha.

'Well, I'm glad this day is over,' exclaimed that young lady, as she reached her bedroom. 'I shall be glad to get between the sheets and forget that horrid, noisy Jack.'

'Ah, will you just?' thought Hollyhock, who overheard the word as she turned into her own snug apartment. Her heart was beating hard and fast. She was waiting for the dénouement.

Lady Barbara and Lady Dorothy Fraser bade Leucha good-night, and went much farther along the corridor.

Leucha entered her room and turned on the light. The moment she did this she began to sniff. What queer noise was this in the room? Was there a clock anywhere, and had it gone wrong? She looked around her and sniffed again.

Hollyhock, prepared for all events, kept her door a little ajar, and wee Jean, being slightly, very slightly, disturbed by the noise in the room and the light which penetrated faintly under her eider-down quilt, purred in a louder and more satisfied manner than ever. She thought she might rise a trifle and begin to lap her cream.

'What can be the matter?' said Lady Leucha. This sharp and angry tone slightly startled the kitchen cat, who raised herself slowly, making a great heave as she did so of her own body and of the eiderdown. The cream was close to her. The cream was sweet and luscious; the cream would suit her to perfection.

Lap, lap, lap, went her little tongue. In a fury – a blind fury – Leucha rushed to her bed, tore aside the eider-down, and tried to catch the wicked cat in order to fling her out of the window; but Hollyhock stood in the room.

'Don't,' she said. 'Poor beastie! I put her there for fun – for a bit of a lark. I'll take her now. Don't you touch my cat, or I 'll be at you. I 'm sorry she has spilt the cream, but it hasn't had time to get through to the blankets. – Here, come along, my pretty dear; come, my angel Jean; you shall sleep along with your own mistress. – See, Leuchy, the cream hasn't had time to get to the blankets, and it hasn't touched the eider-down. I'll just whip off this white covering. Now you see for yourself that you mustn't meddle with me. Best not. I 'm all fire, I am; I 'm all glow, I am; I 'm all spirit, I am. There 's no harm done, but would you like to hold the little cat while I remove the sheet? Then you 'll be as tidy as possible, and you 'd best get to bed, Leuchy. I 'll undress you after I have settled my cat. Here, hold the small thing for a minute while I straighten things up.'

But Leucha, who at first was speechless with horror, now raised her voice to a mighty roar of indignation.

'How dare you? How dare you? You wicked, ugly little girl! I can't abide the sight of you! And to put a cat in my bed – a cat and cream, forsooth! You don't get out of this scrape so easily as you think, Miss Jack. I 'm going down this minute to speak to Mrs Macintyre.'

'All right,' said Holly. 'I think you might do worse. I was willing to be friends with you, but you wouldn't have it, so now I 'm t' other way round, and I 'm thinking that I 'll carry most of the lassies with me. But go, Leuchy. I meant to vex you, and I 'm not denying it. I would have been different, but your haughty spirit forbade it; so now I 'm your chosen enemy, and you 'll have to fight me along with those in the school who like me better than you.'

But Leucha's fury had risen to its height. She dashed up to Hollyhock and gave her a resounding smack on her right cheek. Hollyhock was holding the cat, who, in the struggle, gave Leucha a savage scratch on the hand, that lily-white hand of which she was so proud. It was a great scratch going right across the back of the hand. In a moment Leucha had fled from the room to seek Mrs Macintyre. Hollyhock flew into her own chamber, put wee Jean carefully and tenderly into the basket in which she had brought her from The Garden, stroked her for a minute to cause her to purr again, cut a hole or two in the lid of the basket to give the poor beast air, and then shoved cat and basket under her bed.

Instantly she returned to Leucha's room, took off the injured white covering, shoved it into the soiled clothes-basket, turned down the sheets, made the room look perfectly nice and tidy, removed the saucer, which she carried into her own room and hid, also under the bed.

She then sat and waited for events. They were not long in coming. Leucha's anger was something prodigious. She forgot all about the really frightful smack she had given Hollyhock on her rosy cheek. She thought of nothing but her own indignities – the indignities committed against an earl's daughter by a common Scots girl.

She found Mrs Macintyre in her study. The good lady looked up in amazement when the girl burst in.

'My dear Leucha, whatever is the matter? Why are you not in bed?'

'In bed, Mrs Macintyre! Is it likely that I should be in bed when a nasty, mean Scotch girl puts a horrid, common cat into it, and also a great saucer of cream, which the cat spilt, injuring my favourite edition of the works of Charles Dickens, which was given me by my father on my last birthday? Will you kindly, Mrs Macintyre, expel that girl in the morning?'

'Oh, my dear, I suppose you are alluding to Hollyhock?'

'I 'm not; I 'm alluding to ugly Jack Lennox, beneath me in station, beneath me in manners, beneath me in everything!'

'Well, as to that,' said Mrs Macintyre, 'I'm sorry you are annoyed, Leucha, but another girl would take the matter as a good joke, and win the friendship of Hollyhock by overlooking the whole affair.'

'I'm not that sort. I'm the daughter of the Earl of Crossways, and she – she is nothing but a mischievous cad. She 'll ruin your school, of course, Mrs Macintyre.'

'I don't think so, my dear. I'm delighted to have her. As she has annoyed you, and you wish it, I must punish her, of course; but whatever I do, I shall destroy neither her beauty nor her high rank.'

'Her high rank, forsooth! What next?'

'Yes; her father is the Honourable George Lennox, whose wife was a Cameron, a near relative of the Duke of Ardshiel. I don't think there is much difference between you in blood, Leucha, except the other way round. We think a great deal indeed of the Duke in our region.'

Leucha felt slightly stunned and more angry than ever. She knew well, too well, that the Earl of Crossways was only the second earl of his house, and that she had better not talk quite so loudly about her grand lineage.

'Do you wish me to punish Hollyhock?' said Mrs Macintyre, fixing her grave, gentle eyes on the angry girl's face.

'Yes, of course I do – of course I do. Look at my hand!'

'Oh, the poor cat has scratched it. I 'm sorry. I shall send Miss Kent to you presently with a little cold cream to rub on it. You had better keep it bandaged to-night, and it will be quite well to-morrow. You must have frightened the cat or she would not have treated you like that.'

Leucha said nothing. She did not mention the fact that she had smacked the cat's mistress.

'I wish that young person, whatever her rank, to be punished,' she said.

'Very well, my dear Leucha, come with me at once. I have now got to hear her side of the story.'

'But surely you believe me?'

'In a school like this, Leucha, I like to hear both sides. Whatever happens among my girls, I must be impartial. Now come, for it is getting late, and I myself must retire.'

They went first of all into Leucha's room, which looked perfectly snug and comfortable, all trace of the cat having been removed.

'I see nothing wrong here,' said Mrs Macintyre.

'She is too cute; she has hidden everything,' said Leucha.

'Well, we 'll go to her room. Her room is next to yours. I thought, being contrasts, you would be such friends.'

Leucha shrugged her shoulders contemptuously, then waited with a furiously beating heart while Mrs Macintyre knocked at Holly's door.

'May I come in, my dear child?' she said gently.

'Yes.' Hollyhock flew to the door and flung it open. 'Yes, please do, dear Mrs Macintyre. I know I am a bold, bad girl. – Come in, Leuchy; I don't mind you a bit.'

'But how swollen your cheek is, my child!' said the head-mistress.

'Oh, that's less than nothing. Poor little Jean is sleeping under my bed, and if we talk too loud we may disturb her. I did it for mischief. I 'm not going to deny it. I wanted to be friends with Leuchy, but she would not have it; so then the soul of mischief got into me, and I ran home to The Garden and fetched the cat, and put her into Leuchy's bed. Oh! I know it was wrong of me. I 'm a bad Scots lassie. But I love you, and I love the school, if only Leuchy there would be friendly.'

'Which I have no intention of being,' said Leucha. 'You see for yourself, Mrs Macintyre, she denies nothing. She ran away without leave to fetch that odious cat and put it in my bed.'

'How did her cheek get so swollen?' said Mrs Macintyre.

'Ah, well, we won't talk of that,' said Hollyhock. 'Girls that dare must also endure. I 'm sorry Leuchy was so vexed and wouldn't make it up.'

'You are going to punish her, Mrs Macintyre,' said Leucha, 'are you not?'

'Yes, Leucha; but I 'm going to punish you too. – Hollyhock, my darling, you did wrong, and this your first day at school, too. The punishment I am going to give you I 'm afraid you will feel. You may take the kitchen cat back yourself to The Garden in the morning. You had better start early, so as to be here again in time for breakfast, and then you can tell your father that you will not return with your sisters to The Garden on Saturday. I am sorry, my love; but order must be maintained in the school. As to Leucha here, the story of the cat will, I am sure, be known all over the school immediately; and Leucha, when she shows her wounded hand, will have to explain how she got it – by slapping you so violently on the cheek, thus rousing the temper of the faithful cat. I shall insist on her publicly telling what I know she did. Now, both girls, take your punishments like gentlewomen and don't make a fuss. Good-night, good-night! I 'll send Miss Kent to put a lotion on your cheek, Hollyhock, and to bind up your hand, Leucha. Good-night! After prayers to-morrow the story of the cat will be told, with, alas! Leucha's sad lack of forgiveness.'

CHAPTER XVI.
THE GIRL WITH THE WAYWARD HEART

Hollyhock was a child who, with all her wildness, her insubordination, her many faults, bore no malice. She did not know the meaning of malice. The open look on her bonnie face alone proclaimed this fact. She was really sorry for Leucha, and did not give her own swollen cheek a serious thought. Of course it pained her, for Leucha had very hard, bony little hands, and she struck, in her fury, with great violence. But Hollyhock, as she termed it, would be but a poor thing if she couldn't bear a scrap of pain. Nothing would induce her to grumble, and although she bitterly regretted the punishment which lay before her of not going home on Saturday, she would take it, as she expressed it, 'like a woman of sense.'

Accordingly she got up early on the following morning, released poor Jean, and carried her back to The Garden. There she put her into the astonished arms of the old housekeeper, who said, 'Whatever ails ye, lassie; and where did you find the cat?'

'Here she is, and don't ask me any questions about her. Here she is, safe and sound. She has been feeding on the richest cream, and if you put her cosy by the fire, she 'll sleep off the effects. Is my Daddy Dumps in, Mrs Duncan?'

'Yes, my lassie; he 's at his breakfast.'

'Well, I'm glad of that,' said Hollyhock. 'I have got to speak to him for a minute, but I won't keep him long.'

'Richt ye are, my dear; but whatever swelled your bonnie cheek like that?'

'Well,' said Hollyhock, 'it wasn't me, and it wasn't the cat; so don't ask questions, for they won't be answered. I can't stop here. I must go at once to Daddy Dumps. I have been a bad, wicked girl, and my swollen cheek has been sent to me as a punishment.'

'Whoever dare' – began the old retainer, who in her heart of hearts adored Hollyhock as the most precious of all the Garden Flowers. But Hollyhock had left her.

The cat was already asleep in her basket by the fire. George Lennox was enjoying his excellent breakfast, and was busily planning out his day. Lord Ian's work was remarkably heavy, and he missed his dear Flowers. He was startled, therefore, when Hollyhock dashed into the room.

'Daddy Dumps,' she exclaimed, 'do not be frightened now, and don't pass remarks on my swollen cheek. It was sent me as a punishment, and I 'm not going to say to any one how I got it; but I 've come here, my own Dumpy Dad, to tell you, darling, that your Hollyhock will not return on Saturday with the four other Flower Girls. It's right, and I 'm content. Good-bye, daddy; good-bye. I 'm struggling at that school, and in a fight you often get a scar. When didn't the Camerons get a scar, and weren't they proud of it, the bonnie men?'

Before Mr Lennox could utter a word Hollyhock had rushed out of the room, scarcely daring to speak any further or even to kiss her father, for, with all her bravery, tears were very near her black eyes.

She reached the big school in time for breakfast, where her swollen cheek caused her adorers to look at her with amazed distress and compassion, and Leucha and Daisy Watson to chuckle inwardly, whereas the Fraser girls were as sorry for Hollyhock as they could be.

Prayers followed breakfast; and then Leucha, by Mrs Macintyre's command, had to discharge her painful task. She loathed the thing unspeakably; but Mrs Macintyre had no idea of letting her off.

'Come, Leucha,' she said, 'you have got something to say to your companions. You are wearing a rag on your hand. Take it off.'

'It hurts,' said Leucha, meaning her hand, for she clung to the rag as a sort of flag of protection.

'Take the rag off, and we 'll see for ourselves how much it hurts,' said Mrs Macintyre.

The girls and teachers all stood wondering by. The only one who felt sorry was Hollyhock. The rag was removed, and Mrs Macintyre, gazing keenly at the scratch, said in a disdainful voice, 'I never heard such a fuss about nothing at all. Now, then, you will have the goodness to tell the school in as few words as possible how you got that scratch on your hand, and how Hollyhock got her poor face so swollen.'

'It was the cat,' muttered Leucha.

'The cat! What cat?' echoed from end to end of the long room.

'Leucha, hold your head up and tell your story. If you don't tell it at once, without any more shirking, I shall have you locked up for the day in your room.'

So Leucha, dreading this beyond anything – for a day in her room at the present moment might mean anything – was forced to tell the story of the previous night's adventure. She did tell it with all the venom of which she was capable. She told it with her pale-blue eyes gleaming spitefully. She was forced to go to the very bottom of the affair.

'It was a silly trick, girls,' said Mrs Macintyre when the tale had come to an end, 'and Hollyhock suffered, because the daughter of the Earl of Crossways very nearly broke her jaw. Well, I 'm here to do my duty. Leucha has had to explain. Another girl would have taken what occurred simply as a joke and made nothing of it; but I grieve to say that such is not Leucha Villiers's way; and as Hollyhock did do wrong, and as Leucha particularly wishes it, I am forced to punish her by not allowing her to go home on Saturday. It seems a pity; but justice is justice, and Hollyhock is the first to think that herself.'

'I am,' replied Hollyhock.

'That's a dear child; and now you will try not to get into further mischief.'

But to this speech of kind Mrs Macintyre's Hollyhock made no answer, for mischief was the breath of life to her, and to live without it was practically to live without air, without food, without consolation. She looked round the large and wondering school, and observed that all eyes, with the exception of one pair, were fixed on her with great compassion.

'Hollyhock,' said Mrs Macintyre, 'is your cheek very painful?'

'It hurts a bit,' said Hollyhock.

'Then I think I must ask Dr Maguire to call round and look at it.'

'Oh, don't, Mrs Macintyre! I deserved it – I did, truly.'

But Mrs Macintyre had her way, and although she set the other girls to their tasks, she provided Hollyhock with an amusing book, and placed her near a great fire until Dr Maguire arrived and examined the much-swollen cheek.

'Why, you have got a nasty blow, Miss Hollyhock,' he said. 'Did you strike yourself against a tree, or something of that sort?'

'No; 'tis nothing,' replied Hollyhock.

'Well, however it happened is your secret; but I can only say that your jaw was very nearly broken. It isn't broken, however, and I 'll get a soothing liniment, which you are to keep on constantly during the day. I suppose I mustn't inquire how this occurred?'

'Best not,' said Mrs Macintyre; 'only get the dear child well.'

'I won't be long over that job, with one like Miss Hollyhock.'

So Hollyhock was petted very much all day; excused, by the doctor's express orders, from all lessons; and sat cosily by the fire, enjoying her new and very exciting story. By evening, however, the swelling had gone down a great deal, and her mischievous spirit awoke again. The girls, even the daughters of the Marquis of Killin, were positively furious with Leucha, and more than ever took the part of the brilliant, fascinating child, who had already won their hearts.

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 be
To laugh at him, to blush for thee;
To love thee still, but go no more
A-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 England
Shall 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 flow
To 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!