Scott's close attention to his duties was most annoying. There really appeared to be something in Cicely's theory of criminals haunting a particular spot. He seemed never absent from the kitchen-garden, at any rate when they were in its vicinity. They could hear him mowing the lawn during lesson hours, but when recreation arrived, and they ran out hopefully to reconnoitre, he would be weeding the strawberries, or gathering peas within a few feet of his cherished hotbeds.

"There's only one way for it," said Lindsay. "We shall have to make a plot. You must hide near the kitchen-garden, and I'll do something to take him off; then, while he's gone, you must rush to the frames and open them."

"That would be grand! What will you do?

"I shall have to think it over. I know! We'll wait till this evening, when he's watering the cuc.u.mbers. I'll stand on the pipe of the hose; that will stop the water, and he'll go to see what's the matter."

"Capital!" agreed Cicely.

It took a little scheming to arrange their plan satisfactorily. They were much afraid lest Scott should do his watering earlier than usual, and greatly relieved when they ran out after preparation to find him only just beginning to uncoil his hose. He used a small tank on wheels, which he generally left on the gravel walk outside the kitchen-garden, bringing the indiarubber tubing through the hedge.

To the girls' extreme annoyance, Marjorie Butler spied them, and, coming up, insisted upon reading aloud to them a letter she had received that morning from a sailor cousin. Would she never go away? It was too tiresome of her to confide in them at such an inappropriate time.

"Don't let us keep you, if you want to play tennis," begged Lindsay, with cold politeness.

"Oh, I don't mind at all, thank you! I thought you'd be interested to hear about Cousin Cyril," replied Marjorie.

Lindsay wished sincerely that Cousin Cyril had been at the bottom of the sea, instead of sailing over it and writing long descriptions of its charms. The precious moments were pa.s.sing by. She could hear the gentle swish of the water as Scott applied the hose; if they were not quick, he would have finished, and the opportunity would be gone.

"I believe Miss Russell is coming out to play croquet to-night," she ventured desperately.

"Is she? Oh! she promised I might be on her side next time. I wonder if she's there yet? I must go and see at once."

"Thank goodness!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Lindsay, as their cla.s.smate's blue-linen dress disappeared along the avenue. "Now, I'm going to put this heavy stone on the hose pipe, just where it goes through the hedge. Then we'll both creep through that hole into the kitchen-garden."

Without wasting another minute, Lindsay hastily did as she had said, concealing the stone among the long gra.s.s, after which both girls crawled through the hedge into the midst of a bed of Jerusalem artichokes. As they had expected, their plot answered admirably. Scott gave a grunt of vexation, and looked at his hose. His water supply had undoubtedly failed him. He stumped away, grumbling, to examine the tank.

"I don't believe he'll ever look amongst the gra.s.s. He'll think something's wrong with the tap," chuckled Lindsay.

The moment Scott had vanished through the gate, they dashed (regardless of the artichokes!) in the direction of the frames. Lindsay slid her hands rapidly in a search under the large, vine-like leaves; and Cicely, armed with a trowel, began to dig furiously. All in vain! Though they prodded the soil with sticks they could not feel anything particularly solid underneath, and there was no time to make very deep excavations.

"He's coming back!" panted Lindsay. "Smooth the earth over in that corner, and place that leaf to hide it. Quick, or he'll catch us! Don't go through the artichokes; we must run the other way!"

CHAPTER XV

Hide-and-Seek

The July days literally flew, and the term was drawing rapidly to a close. Miss Russell seemed determined to make the very most of the last weeks at the Manor, and arranged something fresh for nearly every afternoon. On one day there was a cricket match, on another a putting contest, and on a third a tennis tournament, all of which caused much excitement in the small world of the school.

Both Lindsay and Cicely were fond of games, and anxious to win their share of distinction, so by mutual consent they decided to relax their watch on Scott until after the athletic sports. These were always considered a great event, and this year were to be on a larger scale than usual.

"It's so splendid to be able to have them in these lovely grounds," said Mildred Roper. "There never seemed half enough room on the lawn at Winterburn Lodge."

"I hear Miss Russell is going to give quite a party," volunteered Nora Proctor. "She's invited the Rector and Mrs. Cross and all the people who have called on her at Haversleigh, so we shall have plenty of spectators."

"I wish Mrs. Courtenay could come," exclaimed Cicely.

"I wish indeed she could. I'm afraid she must be worse to-day, as Monica was not at the history cla.s.s," said Mildred.

All the girls were busy "getting into good form", as they expressed it.

The elder ones worked untiringly at tennis, while the younger ones practised running with a zeal worthy of candidates for a Marathon race.

"Miss Russell says there'll be several handicaps, but she won't tell us what they are," remarked Beryl Austen.

"Well, it's much more fun if you don't know beforehand," returned Effie Hargreaves. "They wouldn't be handicaps if we could do them too easily."

"I found a piece of four-leaved clover yesterday," observed Cicely, "so I ought to be lucky. I showed it to Mademoiselle, and she was quite envious. 'Vous aurez la chance!'" she said.

"How jolly! Have you kept it?"

"Rather! I've left it to press between two pieces of blotting-paper, under a pile of books. I'm going to have it put in a locket when I go home."

"I don't believe in luck," declared Nora. "I'm sure all the four-leaved clovers in the world wouldn't make Marjorie Butler win a race. She's out of breath before she's run ten yards."

"Is Monica going to take part?" asked Beryl.

"I don't know. She said she had put her name down provisionally. If she does, I expect she'll astonish us all. She can jump most beautifully--she's as light as a feather."

The afternoon of the sports was brilliantly fine. By half-past two the guests had a.s.sembled on the big lawn. They looked quite a small crowd.

The school had aroused interest in the neighbourhood, and people had come from several miles' distance in response to Miss Russell's cards of invitation. Irene Spencer was the only girl who could boast of having any relations present, her uncle, aunt, and several cousins having driven over from Linforth Vicarage. The visitors were evidently prepared to enjoy everything.

"It is not often we have an opportunity in the country of witnessing Olympic games. I am looking forward to seeing so many young Atalantas run races. Where are the wreaths of laurel and parsley that are to grace the occasion?" said Mr. Cross, the genial rector, who was fond of a joke, and at home among schoolgirls.

"There aren't any," laughed Cicely. "Miss Russell uses the laurel leaves to flavour the custards, and the parsley to garnish the hams."

"I'm astonished at her putting such cla.s.sic plants to such ign.o.ble purposes. She has asked me to distribute the prizes, and I thought I should be expected to place green chaplets upon the brows of the victors. It's too bad, when I had composed a speech on purpose. You suggest I should make up another? Not so easy, my dears. I shall come to some of you for a.s.sistance. I wonder if Miss Frazer would be equal to the occasion?"

"I'm sure she couldn't think of anything funny," declared Cicely.

"Then I shall have to trust to what I can say on the spur of the moment.

If you notice I'm breaking down, please begin to clap, and then everybody will suppose I have finished. Here comes Miss Russell. I believe she wants me to act umpire too. Greatness is being thrust upon me. I hope I shan't disgrace my high position."

In spite of the Rector's mock protestations, he seemed very capable of managing the sports, and reviewed the rows of waiting girls with the eye of a general.

"It takes me back to my own schooldays," he said. "I used to think then I would much rather win the long jump than be made Archbishop of Canterbury; and I considered the captain of our cricket club a far bigger fellow than the Prime Minister. Where's Monica? Isn't she joining in to-day's doings?"

Monica arrived at the last moment, just when everybody had given her up, and took her place quietly among the members of the first form.

"I was afraid I couldn't come at all," she explained; "but Mother is asleep now, so I can leave her for an hour, at any rate. I have told Jenny to send for me if she wakes."

The first item on the programme was a tennis contest, limited to the elder girls. It was a hard-fought battle, as the compet.i.tors were evenly balanced, and it ended in a victory for Mildred Roper and Kathleen Crawford. Monica played well, but she had not been able to spend so much time at practice as the others, and she missed several b.a.l.l.s.

"It was very stupid of me," she apologized. "I never seem to grow accustomed to Mildred's fast serves."