"I shall go on trying as long as we're at Haversleigh, on that I'm entirely resolved," she declared. "I don't mean to give up until we're actually on our way to the station on breaking-up day."

"And that's only three weeks off now," said Cicely.

The summer term at the Manor had proved so enjoyable that the girls were not nearly so enthusiastic as usual for the advent of the holidays. Most of them felt a keen regret at leaving the beautiful old place, and bewailed the fact that the alterations at Winterburn Lodge were reported to be progressing favourably, and that the drains there would be in perfect order long before they need return in September.

"Couldn't we have school here always instead of in London?" they suggested hopefully to Miss Russell.

"No," said the headmistress; "there are many considerations which would make it impossible. Mrs. Courtenay and Monica will want to live in their own home again, and Haversleigh is too inconvenient a place for a permanency. We have managed wonderfully well for a few months with only Mademoiselle, but we certainly miss Herr Hoffmann's and Monsieur Guizet's cla.s.ses, to say nothing of drawing and dancing lessons.

Visiting masters cannot arrange to come so far away from town. There are no proper educational advantages to be had in the depths of the country."

"We shall be sorry when it comes to good-bye," declared the girls.

"We must make the most of our remaining time here then," said Miss Russell, "and try to see all we can in the neighbourhood before we go."

The mistress's birthday, falling on the following Wednesday, offered a propitious opportunity for an excursion such as she suggested. The girls were accustomed to celebrate the occasion with some little festivity, and were delighted when it was arranged that they should visit the town of Appleford, about ten miles away.

"There is the Dripping Well to see, and a fine old church," said Miss Russell. "I am sure we shall be able to spend a very pleasant afternoon there. We must ask Monica to come with us."

There was some doubt at first as to whether Monica would be able to accept the invitation. She had missed her French lesson one day, and arrived at school late on the next, looking pale and upset. Mrs.

Courtenay had been very ill, so she explained. The doctor had been sent for, and had given an unfavourable report. Naturally extra care and attention were needful, and who could give these so well as her own daughter?

On the day of the picnic Monica turned up with rather an anxious face.

"I scarcely like to leave Mother," she said, "but she wants me so much to have this treat that she would not rest content until she had seen me put on my hat and start off. Fortunately Jenny is a good nurse, and will look after her nicely. Still, I always feel uneasy when I am long away from her."

The girls were to drive the whole distance to Appleford, and the prospect was so exhilarating that everyone was at the high-water mark of enjoyment. Even poor Monica caught the prevailing spirit, and for the moment, at least, began to forget her cares. There was just room to pack both teachers and pupils into the four wagonettes which arrived from the George Inn, but n.o.body seemed to mind crushing, and even Mademoiselle was in a good temper.

"I smile because I shall again see shops and streets," she declared.

"I believe Mademoiselle will be delighted to go back to Winterburn Lodge," said Marjorie Butler, who was in another wagonette, but overheard the remark.

"Yes, I think she's absolutely yearning for pavements and lamp-posts,"

said Cicely. "She'll weep with joy at the sight of a tramcar. She says it is terribly 'triste' here."

"Mademoiselle is French," observed Effie Hargreaves scornfully.

"What a very original remark! You didn't suppose we took her for a German?"

"Well, I mean she's a foreigner at any rate, so we can't expect her to like the country," replied Effie, with true British prejudice.

There were several small excitements on the journey. Beryl's hat was blown by a sudden puff of wind over a bridge, and was in great peril of descending into the river when it was rescued by the driver; the door of the second wagonette burst suddenly open, and nearly precipitated Irene Spencer into the road; while the whole cavalcade was brought to a standstill at a narrow turning by finding a broken-down motor-car blocking up the way.

Appleford proved to be a delightfully quaint old country town, with twisting streets and black-and-white houses.

"I'm afraid Mademoiselle will be very disappointed with the fashions.

She certainly won't find Paris modes here," laughed Marjorie Butler, looking at the one row of small shop windows that appeared to satisfy the wants of the population.

"I'm glad there's a confectioner's, anyhow," said Effie Hargreaves, who was burning to spend her pocket-money on chocolates.

"And a place for picture postcards," added Nora Proctor; "I can see a whole tray full of them standing outside that door."

The arrival of four wagonettes containing so many schoolgirls evidently caused quite an excitement in the usually quiet street. Heads were popped out of windows, shopkeepers came to their doors, and people began to collect at corners and stare.

"Almost as if we were a wild-beast show!" said Cicely.

"I believe they hope we're going to march in procession round the market square and sing, or play as a band," declared Nora Proctor.

"Come along, girls! I am afraid we are attracting too much attention,"

said Miss Russell. "Let us set off for the Dripping Well as fast as we can. You must make any purchases you want when we return; I cannot let you wait now."

Effie Hargreaves had already dived into the toffee shop, and issued with several paper packages in her hand; so she went on her way rejoicing that she had seized the opportunity while there was yet time.

Fortunately for the others, she was of a generous disposition, and ready to share her sweets.

"We'll pay you back when we get some of our own," said Marjorie Butler, blissfully sucking a caramel.

The Dripping Well was situated in a wood, about a mile from the town, and was, as the guide-book described it, "a most curious natural phenomenon". The water trickled slowly over a large rock, and was so charged with lime that it left a thin deposit over everything it touched. Articles hung up there, after a short time bore the appearance of having been turned to stone. All kinds of objects were suspended from the rock, in the process of being encrusted by the lime--top hats, boots, stockings, gloves, loaves of bread, and even bunches of flowers.

"It looks just as if the Gorgon had stared at them and petrified them with a glance," said Nora.

"I wonder, if we were hung up, should we turn solid too?" said Lindsay.

The caretaker of the well had many specimens to show them which he had polished, and was anxious to sell. There was quite a large collection in his cottage. The girls, after hastily conferring together, bought a stone bouquet as a birthday present for Miss Russell, an offering which she declared should grace the school museum when they returned to Winterburn Lodge.

"I thought she'd have put it in the drawing-room," said Beryl Austen, rather disappointed.

"Well, of course it is more of a curiosity than an ornament," said Mildred Roper. "It wouldn't have looked very beautiful decorating the mantel-piece, I'm afraid--not nearly so nice as a real bunch of flowers."

Close to the well was a cave in the cliff which a hermit had once used for his cell--a very picturesque spot to have chosen for his meditations, so the girls decided.

"But horribly damp; the poor man must have been racked with rheumatism,"

said Miss Frazer, who was of a practical mind.

"Perhaps, like Friar Tuck, he didn't often use it, and preferred to hunt venison in the woods," suggested Kathleen Crawford.

"No, he was a really devout hermit, who told his beads, and lived on bread and water," said Monica. "He dug his own grave in the rock about a hundred yards from here. You can see it still, though his bones have long ago been taken away for relics."

"I wonder if they petrified them first in the well," said Nora Proctor, "and how much they sold them for? There are more than two hundred bones in the human body, so a hermit ought to have been worth a good deal when he was properly divided."

"You naughty, irreverent girl!" said Monica.

Tea had been prepared at the old-fashioned inn in the market square.

Afterwards they went to look through the church, where there were some fine examples of Gothic carving, and several beautiful stained-gla.s.s windows. One in particular, which Monica pointed out, was in memory of a member of the Courtenay family. There was a chained Bible, besides a black-letter Prayer Book, a pair of tongs for turning dogs out of church, and several other curiosities shown by the old verger; so time pa.s.sed rapidly, and everyone was quite surprised when Miss Russell looked at her watch, and announced that they must be returning home.

"Will someone fetch Monica? I believe she is in the churchyard with the Rector's wife," she said.

Lindsay and Cicely volunteered to go, and found their friend under a big yew tree, engaged in talking to a lady who was evidently making enquiries about Mrs. Courtenay. Not liking to intrude and interrupt the conversation, they stood waiting until they should be noticed.

"The doctor was over yesterday," Monica was saying, with a choke in her voice. "He told me our only chance is to send to London for Sir William Garrett. And how can we? His fee is a hundred guineas."