CHAPTER V

LIVELINESS IN BLUE DORM

Tea was over--a tea which seemed a babel to Joey's unaccustomed ears, although Cousin Greta would probably have laughed at the term "unaccustomed," considering the noise that the five Grahams could make among themselves.

But Cousin Greta would never have guessed what a great school could do at the first meal, with discipline relaxed and everybody trying to tell special friends how they had spent the holidays.

Joey sat under the wing of a very young mistress, who wore a great bunch of violets in her belt, and was addressed as "Miss Lambton." She saw to it that Joey had plenty of bread and jam and cake, and addressed two or three good-natured questions to her; but it wasn't in the nature of things that the new girl shouldn't feel rather out of it, when all near neighbours wanted to tell Miss Lambton where they had been and what they had done, and she had to interrupt her adorers in order to speak to Joey. Gabrielle had been swamped directly they came into the huge refectory by two vehement people, with a tiny silver shield fastened to their djibbahs, who assured her vociferously that she had promised to sit between them for the first tea last term.

However, she remembered the new girl directly tea was over, and made her way to Joey's side, when the girls rose from table.

"Will you come to your dorm now?"

"I've got to go and say something to the Professor in Lab," Joey said doubtfully, not being at all sure that when she reached Blue Dorm she wouldn't be expected to stay there interviewing Matron, or something of that kind.

"Oh, come on, Gabrielle, if the new kid doesn't _want_ to be shown her dormitory, don't fag over her," urged two or three impatient voices; but Gabrielle stood her ground.

"I quite forgot. Ingrid Latimer--she's Senior Prefect--of course, you don't know her yet--sent me a message for you. She said the Lab was all right, and she had seen Monsieur Trouville. I don't know what it means, but perhaps you do."

"Yes, I know," Joey answered shortly. It had been kind of the Senior Prefect to face the furious Professor for her, and Gabrielle seemed kind and friendly, too; but you couldn't tell about these girls. They despised her because of Calgarloch school, and she never knew when they would have set her on about something else. She didn't feel inclined to be effusive.

Gabrielle shook off her admirers and conducted Joey up many stairs and along many passages in silence. Only when she had opened the door of a large, light, airy room, with blue-washed walls and blue quilts to the four beds and blue curtains to the windows, did she find her voice again.

"This is Blue Dorm, Jocelyn. I'm sure you'll like it. Isn't it a topping view? Look how well you can see the Fossdyke Wash--and that's the Walpole Fen, all down on the right--it's reclaimed, you know--and do you see that tower?"

"Yes; I saw it coming along. What is it?" asked Joey, coming a little more out of her shell.

Gabrielle sunk her voice to an impressive whisper. "It's haunted--it is really, Jocelyn. Of course Miss Conyngham and the sensible people would say nonsense; but we've heard awfully queer sounds sometimes, and once I saw some blue light with my own eyes, when Doron Westerby--another four had this dorm last term--had toothache in the night, and called me. You know a man was murdered there; ages back, it was. His enemy tied him up in an underground room of the tower, and then blew out a bit of the sea-wall at one of the great autumn tides."

Joey gasped. "How beastly. Are his mouldering bones there now?"

"I think they're cleared up," Gabrielle said regretfully. "You look for the light, Jocelyn--you'll have a topping chance. I wonder which bed you'll have--three have windows, you see; it's only in that fourth one by the door you can't see anything, and I don't think it's fixed yet who sleeps there."

As if in answer to her words, there was a stampede outside, and the three other owners of Blue Dorm rushed headlong in. Each carried something in her hand--a book, a comb, a handkerchief. With one consent they rushed upon the three window beds, and hurling the article upon it, shouted breathlessly, "Bags I this!"

Gabrielle got rather red. She walked up to Syb and spoke in a low voice. Joey caught the words "a new girl" and "playing up." But whatever her appeal might be, it hadn't much effect. Joey marched over to the bed by the door.

"This is mine, then," she said.

Matron came in a minute later, in her usual hurry, demanding keys and everyone's attention instantly. Gabrielle was dispatched to the big basement room downstairs to help in the unpacking and putting away of her things; and Joey found she was expected to do the same, after Matron had shown her exactly where and how her things should go, and explained that there was a dormitory inspection, inside and out, of drawers and cupboards every Saturday of term.

Joey ran upstairs with armfuls of clothes, and downstairs to get more for a long time after that; but at last everything was put away, and Matron, weary and a trifle dishevelled, made a tour of inspection before going to see the babies into bed.

The four in Blue Dorm were left to arrange their photographs and private belongings before changing into their white frocks for supper. Joey got to work on her shelf and combined chest of drawers and dressing-table silently and unsociably. The others had a great deal to say to each other, and took no notice of her for some little time. Then Sybil, who had finished, came strolling up to the corner by the door, and cast a glance over Joey's photographs.

"I say, what an awfully good-looking boy," she said, picking up the photo of Gavin, taken for Mums out of the tip Uncle Staff sent him when he won the scholarship. "Who's he--your brother?"

The devil entered into Joey. "No; that's the flesher's boy in Calgarloch, a great pal of mine," she stated easily, arranging Mums side by side with Father in uniform.

Syb stared. Joey went on. "The kid in socks is the gravedigger's youngest--he's called Bingo; and these two, Ronnie and Kirsty, belong to the odd-and-end shop at Crumach."

With which appalling size in thumpers, Joey turned her back upon the girls, and went on arranging her photographs. Syb left her in a hurry; the others whispered together. Joey finished her corner, and got out her evening frock.

"Having us on?" asked Noreen, with a doubtful note of appreciation.

Joey slipped her frock over her head. "Find out," she suggested.

That made a pause, and everybody put on their evening dresses in silence. Barbara broke it while hair was being brushed.

"I suppose Gabrielle told you that this dorm tubs at night," she observed unwillingly. "You had better not be late coming up, because the water gets cold so quickly."

"But of course you'd bath last because of being new," Syb joined in, rather truculently.

Joey made no answer; she was considering. "Where is the bathroom?" she asked.

"Right opposite. Blue Dorm uses No. 8," Barbara vouchsafed.

"Thank you," Joey answered, with extraordinary meekness, a meekness that was almost overdone. These horrid swanky girls had forced her to accept the worst corner of the room, but it was certainly nearest the door, and Joey was quite clear in her own mind which of the Blue Dorm occupants was going to have first tub to-night.

They went down to supper after that; the three together, and Joey behind. There was a very nice supper laid in the huge refectory; but Joey was home-sick for the little sitting-room at Calgarloch and the brandered herrings and the brown bread, and Robina, the lass, bringing in the pudding, and joining freely in the conversation if she felt inclined.

Joey sat between two rather big girls, and they only spoke once to her to ask her name and age, and then talked hockey across her for the rest of the meal. Not that Joey cared; she assured herself that she didn't want to be friends with these girls.

There was dancing after supper in the Queen's Hall, but Joey looked on. Dancing wasn't taught at Calgarloch, and she refused decidedly when Gabrielle came and asked for a valse. And then at nine there were prayers, and the whole of the Upper School, with Remove II. A and B of the Lower, filed past Miss Conyngham and said good-night. The Juniors had been swept off a good deal earlier.

Joey was really glad when bedtime came. She was longing to get a bit of her own back. Noreen and Co. had taken her in, and made an utter fool of her over the tidying of the Lab and the putting on of the Head Girl's boots; but Joey wasn't going to sit down meekly under the treatment. She managed to plant herself just in front of Sybil, Barbara, and Noreen in the long procession; and before she went downstairs she had put out her towel, sponges, etc., where she could snatch them easily. The procession moved on; and she moved with it.

She could hear Miss Conyngham's clear, mellow voice, "Good-night, Jacynth. Good-night, Mary. Good-night, Doron--oh, what about that tooth? Has it given you more trouble?"

Block number one. Joey heard Syb's grumble behind. "Bother Doron's toothache--the water will be cold."

Doron's toothache was much better, thank you; yes, the stuff had done it a lot of good; she wouldn't want any more, she thought. "Thank you, Miss Conyngham."

Doron Westerby moved on; so did the procession.

"Good-night, Sylvia. Good-night, Trixie. Good-night, Cecily. Good-night, Kathleen--any more news from home, dear?"

Block number two. Joey wondered if Syb's exaggerated groan would be heard by Miss Conyngham; they were so near her now.

Yes, Kathleen had heard from home, and Frankie was better. His temperature had gone down three degrees, thank you, Miss Conyngham.

Kathleen was disposed of. "Good-night, Thelma. Good-night, Winifred. Good-night--oh, it's you, Jocelyn? Settled your things comfortably into the Blue Dormitory?"

"Yes, thank you, Miss Conyngham."

"That's right. Sleep well. Good-night, Jocelyn."

The procession moved on. Joey was out of the Queen's Hall and on the stairs. Up them three steps at a time--the long legs at which Calgarloch stared amazed were certainly of use now. Behind her she heard Syb and Barbara disputing whose turn it was to have first bath. As the turn had to be remembered across the width of the holidays that was a difficult matter to decide. Joey chuckled inwardly; they really needn't worry themselves to remember. She plunged at the door of Blue Dorm and grabbed her things, including pyjamas and dressing-gown. Too late; the other three saw what she meant to do.

"Here, you are last for the bathroom," Syb shouted.

Joey dived across the passage and flung herself and her belongings into Bathroom 8. "I don't think!" she said succinctly, as she slammed the bolt home.

Joey enjoyed her bath. She took as much hot water as she wanted, and didn't come out, whatever the bangings and objurgations outside the door, till she had been in the bath as long as she wished. Then at last she emerged, to face a furious trio waiting for her in Blue Dorm.

Joey plumped down her armful of belongings on her bed. "I should hurry," she advised politely. "The tap was beginning to run cooler before I left."

Syb bolted to the bathroom; the other two turned their backs studiously upon the aggressor, and talked ostentatiously to one another. Joey curled up on her bed, did her hair in three bangs, and then wrote up her diary for the first day at Redlands.

"Redlands is a hole, and the girls are pigs. I hate them all, except p'r'aps Gabrielle. They think it a fair disgrace to have been at a council school, and say beastly things. I wish I was seventeen this minute, and coming away: I'll never get a bit of paper big enough to cross off all the hateful horrid days I've got to stay here. I have settled never to say a single word to any of these hateful horrid swanky girls, except, p'r'aps Gabrielle, as long as I live."

The letter to Mums, which was also written while the other three bathed in tepid water with much bitterness of spirit, expressed a rather different view.

"It's frightfully pretty here," Joey wrote, "and the Wash lies on the edge of what you see--all glittering--and the river is mixed up with it, and the Deeps are like another sea, only green grass. The College is awfully nice, and some of it is very ancient and historical. I'll tell you the history bits when I've mugged them up. I'm in Blue Dorm, and that's the nicest Dorm. I have the bed nearest the door, and that's frightfully handy for getting first bath. My room-companions are Sybil, Barbara, and Noreen O'Hara. They were very interested in my photographs. I'm going to have a topping time here, I can see, and I should think I'm in the liveliest dorm that ever was.--Your loving

"JOEY."

"P.S.--You might write soon; I'm frightfully happy here, still you might write."

A bell rang just as Joey had finished her letter, and a stentorian voice in the passage cried, "Silence for prayers."

Noreen O'Hara rushed from the bathroom, after a tub lasting a short two minutes, and hurled herself upon her knees among her sponges and bath-towel. A minute later a Prefect looked in, and withdrew noiselessly.

There was absolute quiet for some seven or eight minutes, and then a little murmur arose again.

Joey had dropped her writing-things and said her prayers like the rest. She wondered if she ought to feel ashamed of her behaviour with the bath; the sad thing was that she didn't, particularly. And if she said she was sorry now, the furious three would think she was afraid of what they might do to her. Joey decided to stick it out, but have a shorter and a cooler bath to-morrow.

Another bell rang. Noreen and Syb were already in bed; Barbara jumped up at the bell, and Joey more slowly followed her example. The Prefect looked in again.

"All in bed--that's right." She turned to put out the light. "Good-night."

"Good-night, Ingrid," said the injured three in a burst. "Good-night," said Joey pointedly by herself when the others had finished.

Ingrid Latimer looked in her direction. "Why, it's the new kid."

She came across to Joey's bed. "Got my message, young 'un?"

"Yes, thanks awfully."

"That's all right. He won't think any more of it. You come to me, if anybody tries on that sort of game again. You'll always find some fat-headed idiots in Coll who think it funny. Good-night."

"Good-night, and thanks no end."

Ingrid turned the light out. Blue Dorm was left in outward peace. It was outward only!