CHAPTER XII

The Secret Society

School re-opened on January 18, and Sylvia found herself driving up to the well-known door with very different feelings from those she had experienced on her first arrival there. On the whole she was quite pleased to be back again, to meet all her friends, and compare notes about the holidays. There was one change in the third class which, however it might affect others, seemed to Sylvia a decided improvement. Hazel Prestbury had left. An aunt residing in Paris had offered to take her for a time to give her the opportunity of special study in French and music, and her parents had arranged for her to go at once, sending Brenda, a younger sister, to Heathercliffe House in her place. Brenda was a very different child from Hazel, and had soon sworn eternal friendship with Connie Camden, so that at last Sylvia felt she had her dear Linda absolutely and entirely to herself.

"I don't know how it is," said Nina one chilly February evening when the members of the third class were gathered round the high fireguard in the playroom, "there never seems half so much fun going on in the spring term. In the autumn we have Hallowe'en and the fifth of November and the Christmas party, and in the summer there are picnics and the shore, and the sports, and the prize-giving; but unless Miss Kaye takes us a long walk there isn't anything to look forward to now until Easter."

"And that's eleven whole weeks off," groaned Connie. "I wish it had come early this year."

"It wouldn't make any difference if it did," said Marian; "Miss Kaye keeps to the term. We should only have to spend Easter at school, and go home as usual in the middle of April."

"That would be horrid. Why should she?"

"Because it would make too long a summer term, and because she likes our holidays to be the same as those of the boys' schools."

"I hadn't thought of that. Of course it would be no fun to go home if Percy and Frank and Bertie and Godfrey weren't there. Still, I wish terms were a little shorter, or that something nice would happen." And Connie ruffled up her hair with both hands as an expression of her discontent.

"Couldn't we do something just amongst ourselves?" said Sylvia. "Not the whole school, but our class."

"There isn't anything new," said Brenda, "unless someone can invent a fresh game. We're getting tired of table croquet."

"I don't mean exactly a game. Suppose we were each to write a story, and then have a meeting to read them all out."

"Start a kind of magazine?" said Marian. "That's a good idea. We could put our tales together into an old exercise book, and perhaps paste pictures in for illustrations, and make up puzzles and competitions for the end."

"Oh yes, that would be lovely!" cried the others. "Like _Little Folks or The Girl's Realm_."

"But look here," said Linda. "The second class mustn't hear a word about it. They'd only make dreadful fun of us, and it will be ever so much nicer if we keep it a secret."

"Let us form a secret society, then," suggested Sylvia. "We'll pinch each others' little fingers, and vow we won't tell a soul in the school."

"How horridly inquisitive they'll be!" said Nina.

"All the more fun. We'll let them know that we're doing something, enough to make them wildly curious, but they shan't have a hint of what it is, and they'll imagine the most ridiculous things, and then we can just laugh at them and say they're quite wrong."

The girls agreed cordially with Sylvia's scheme, and the society was formed on the spot. There was a good deal of discussion as to a suitable name. Linda thought of "The Heathercliffe Magaziners", but Nina said that was tame, and that, moreover, "Magaziners" was not to be found in the dictionary of the English language. Connie considered "The 'Wouldn't you like to know?' Club" might be appropriate, but nobody approved of her title. At last Marian, who was fond of long, grand-sounding names, suggested "The Secret Society of Literary Undertakings", which was carried unanimously by the others. Marian was elected President and Sylvia Secretary, and the latter at once devoted a new notebook to writing the names of the members and the rules of the association.

"We must have rules," said Marian, "even if we don't always quite keep them. You'll have to hide the book away most carefully, Sylvia, for fear any of the second class get hold of it."

It took a long time to think of sufficiently strict and binding regulations, but at length they decided upon the following:--

1. This Society is to be called "The Secret Society of Literary Undertakings", and it can be known for short as the S.S.L.U.

2. Each member pledges herself that she will never tell a word of what goes on in it.

3. Any member who tells anything will never be spoken to again by the rest of the class.

4. There is to be a weekly magazine.

5. Every member must write something for it.

6. Even if a member says she cannot write anything, she will have to try.

7. If she does not try, she will be expelled from the society.

8. The meetings are to be held in the playroom after the fourth class has gone to bed.

9. Any member who is expelled will have to stay outside in the passage during the meetings.

10. All members are requested to write as clearly as they can.

11. The Secretary is to arrange the magazine.

12. The President is to read it out at the weekly meeting.

As Nina had prophesied, the S.S.L.U. aroused a good deal of curiosity among the second class, which, while it affected to look down upon the third, was nevertheless rather interested in what was going on there. Being permitted to know the initials, though not the full name, the elder girls promptly added a G, and christened the members "The Slugs", a title which stuck to them long after the society was abandoned. It was most difficult to preserve the secret from the little ones, who shared the playroom, but by instituting a series of private signs and signals they managed to keep up the mystery and obtain a great amount of enjoyment out of the matter. Brenda Prestbury covered herself with glory by recalling the deaf-and-dumb alphabet, the various letters of which she had learnt at home, and now taught to the others, who were soon able to talk on their fingers, a rather slow method of conversation, but delightful when they felt that nobody but a member could understand. Unfortunately they carried their accomplishment somewhat too far one day. Connie, seated at her drawing board in the studio, began signalling an interesting remark to Linda, who was at the opposite side of the table, and Linda was in the middle of her reply when Mr. Dawson, the visiting master, suddenly cleared his throat.

"I think I ought to tell you, young ladies," he said nervously, "that I am very well acquainted with the deaf-and-dumb alphabet, having taught the subject for several years at an institution for deaf-mutes."

Connie went extremely red, as well she might, for she had asked Linda where Mr. Dawson got the flower in his buttonhole, and if Miss Coleman had given it to him? The girls never ventured after that to try talking in the drawing class, though they did a little surreptitiously during dancing.

The first grand meeting of the society was felt to be an occasion of great importance. The playroom door was carefully shut, after ascertaining that no one was in the passage, and Brenda even peeped under the table and behind the window curtains to make quite sure that none of the second class were concealed there. At last, considering themselves secure, the magazine was produced by the Secretary, and handed to the President, who, according to the rules, was to read it aloud from beginning to end. It was written on sheets of paper torn from exercise books, stitched together inside an old arithmetic cover, the back of which had been adorned with scraps and transfers and S.S.L.U. printed on a school label and gummed in the middle. The idea of illustrations had to be abandoned, because nobody had any magazines which they would spare to be cut up, neither did anybody's talent rise to the pitch of original drawings; but on the whole that did not much matter.

"It's stories we want, not pictures," said Marian, settling herself on the seat of honour with a piece of toffee handy, in case her throat grew troublesome through her arduous duties.

"The first on the list," she began, "is--

THE KNIGHT'S VENGEANCE A Story in Two Parts

By Nina Millicent Forster Author of 'The Baron's Secret'; 'The Mystery of the Castle'; &c. &c.