THE DAY SIBYL MARTIN RETURNED TO THE SCHOOL, excitement broke out—so much excitement that Cherry came down to the stair landing. Sibyl swept into the entrance hall, with the chauffeur carrying in her suitcases and hatboxes and a huge bouquet of early chrysanthemums.
“For Mrs. Harrison,” she said sweetly. “Peace offering. Jan! All you infants! Was I ever glad to get away from here! What a time I had at Sis’s wedding—my dress was gorgeous. I brought it to show you. Going to wear it for when—you know.”
“Did you catch the bride’s bouquet, Sib?”
“Were there a lot of showers and parties first?”
“I’ll bet you saw Freddie somewhere, too, didn’t you? Come on, admit it.”
Sibyl pouted and posed and smiled over her shoulder meaningfully at Lisette. A group of the younger girls were just coming in from classes in the other building and stood transfixed by this brilliant figure with the red gold hair.
“Nobody’d think you’re only sixteen, Sibyl,” Fran said. “Those chi-chi shoes! Those eyes! That hair!”
“I’d say she was sixteen,” Mrs. Harrison said, coming out into the hall. “Welcome back, Sibyl. Where did you get those mums? How fresh and lovely they are—and oh, those gorgeous shoes. Can you really walk in them?”
“Why, certainly.” Sibyl hobbled shakily on the extremely high heels.
“I remember it takes practice,” Mrs. Harrison observed with a twinkle. Some of the girls looked amused. Some of the crowd melted away. The rest trooped after Sibyl as if she were the Pied Piper. She was saying loudly, “I missed wearing my lapis lazuli bracelet, though—”
Lisette came up to Cherry on the stairs and said in a low voice: “She likes to torment me. How soon are you going to give her back her wretched bracelet? I’ll do it if you don’t want to bother.”
“No, I’ll do it, because I have something to say to her. Don’t look so cross, Lisette. Maybe Sibyl isn’t as horrid as you think. She’s young and foolish.”
“Aren’t we all? Including you, I’ll bet. I will not give that meanie the benefit of the doubt.”
And Lisette rushed off, her ivory face even paler than usual and her eyes burning like coals.
Cherry had no intention of prolonging Lisette’s discomfort. She left a note under Sibyl’s door requesting her to stop by the infirmary that same evening.
Sibyl took her time about coming in. Probably, Cherry thought as the evening wore on, she was holding court and recounting her triumphs to practically the assembled school. There was no doubt about it, Sibyl had a way of creating excitement. “Sibyl’s the kind of girl things happen to!” the other girls said enviously. “Only,” Cherry thought, “what sort of things?” She wished she could make Sibyl realize that although it might be exciting to jump off a roof, it would also mean risking a broken neck.
At nearly ten Sibyl came in. In the white infirmary, the bright colors of her dress and hair were intensified. She dropped into the nurse’s chair.
“I suppose I’ve missed a shot or pill or something, Miss Ames.” She put on her sweet guileless expression for this official contact.
Cherry said she only needed a little information to complete Sibyl’s records, and then chatted with her about what fun weddings are, and the Gilbert and Sullivan they had both missed, but the conversation dragged, so Cherry gave up and came to the point.
“I have something to show you, Sibyl.” The bracelet was in the pocket of her uniform.
“To show me?” Sibyl sounded bored.
“Yes. Here. Isn’t this yours?”
Sibyl started out of her chair. “Why, yes! Yes, of course it’s mine!” She reached for the bracelet but Cherry did not give it to her. “May I ask where you found it, Miss Ames? Or perhaps Lisette returned it to you.”
Cherry lost her temper. “Stop accusing innocent people! Lisette had nothing to do with your bracelet! But your friend Freddie did.”
“Wha-a-at?” She lifted her chin. “That’s the silliest thing I ever heard. Freddie is a dear friend of mine.” Sibyl turned haughty, hand outstretched. “I’ll trouble you for my bracelet, Miss Ames.”
Cherry handed it to her without comment. Sibyl looked the bracelet over and put it on. She glanced at Cherry, but the silence continued. Sibyl wriggled in discomfort.
“I didn’t mean to sound rude just now, Miss Cherry. I was certain as anything I had left it on my dressing table, but I did wear it on that date. I guess you meant Freddie found my bracelet in his car, didn’t you? It must have come unclasped and fallen on the car floor.” Sibyl arched her wrist, making the pendant stones swing back and forth. “So Freddie returned the bracelet through you. That was cute of him.”
“I’m afraid it wasn’t that way.” No use mincing words. “I found your bracelet for sale in an antique jewelry shop in Riverton. A young man had brought it in a few days after your date. He told the shopkeeper it would help pay for his next date at the Golden Door Inn.”
Sibyl was so stunned that her mouth fell open. She was unable to say a single word. Cherry felt sorry for her.
“Oh, Sibyl, don’t you see? That’s how your gallant Freddie can afford to take you to swank restaurants—by selling your bracelet.”
“He isn’t a bad character, though,” Sibyl defended him. “Even if he—”
“He’s weak at least, and that’s bad enough. I want you to promise that you won’t date Freddie secretly again,” Cherry urged.
Sibyl’s lips trembled. She took a deep breath. “Pooh! I had some more gorgeous dates with Freddie just last week, and I don’t care what you think or about silly school rules, either. And I’m going to go right on dating him. Now don’t be angry, Miss Cherry. At least I’m not lying to you.”
“Doesn’t the fact that Freddie found and then sold your bracelet indicate—”
Sibyl jumped to her feet. “Freddie wouldn’t do such a thing! Someone else found it. The garage man found it, probably, and he sold it.”
Cherry sighed and stood up, too. Since she could do nothing with Sibyl, she decided to approach Freddie himself. If that didn’t accomplish anything, she would report the matter to Mrs. Harrison.
“Well, maybe Freddie is every bit as gallant as you say. I’d be glad to be proved wrong. Will I see you both at high tea this Friday?” The school was holding open house for visitors from six to nine. “Auntie Collier promises we’ll have mountains of turkey sandwiches.”
“I suppose Freddie and I will have to put in an appearance. I could wear my black. Freddie is cute, Miss Cherry. When you meet him, you’ll know he wouldn’t do such a thing as sell my bracelet. I—I—Maybe I ought to tell everybody I found it in the closet or something. So the girls will know Lisette didn’t take it.”
“That’s a nice idea.”
They parted better friends, yet Cherry felt uneasy. She had been unable to win Sibyl’s complete trust. Perhaps she would have better luck with Freddie.
Lisette was immensely relieved that the bracelet affair was settled. She declared to Cherry, though, that she would never like lapis lazuli as long as she lived.
“Now can’t we talk about something interesting? Are the things safe in the drawer?”
The doll, the key, and the journal were in the drawer, but unfortunately they had to remain there. Work on the search was held up. The infirmary was a busy place, for the first week of October brought three head colds, two cases of hay fever, and one violent case of homesickness. As for Lisette, she was cramming for the first of the monthly quizzes, coming soon.
By Friday, everybody felt fine again and the tea came as a reward after a vigorous week. Open fires, lighted candles, and fragrant bouquets of late garden flowers—Lisette mourned such prodigal cutting—decorated the downstairs rooms which were all thrown open for the guests. Quite a few mothers, fathers, and brothers had arrived—they would stay overnight in the village and be here Saturday, too. Also present were a group of boys from the neighboring “brother” school. Most of the boys were shy and stayed together, but a few floated around with nonchalant ease. One of these young sophisticates was Freddie Barnes.
He was attractive looking, Cherry admitted to herself, and about as spoiled as Sibyl. Sibyl, in her grown-up black dress and pearls, looked a sleek twenty years old. She shadowed Freddie, who was busy charming people right and left.
Cherry lost sight of them when dancing started in the dining room. The tables were gone, the floor was waxed to mirror shininess, and a three-piece dance orchestra from St. Louis struck up a tantalizing beat. Cherry wished Dr. Alan could have come. She danced with three girls’ brothers, with Mr. North and Mr. Phelps, and felt like somebody’s maiden aunt, aged ninety. Turkey sandwiches consoled her, and still more comforting was the sight of Lisette enjoying herself in the happy laughter of a young group.
Then Cherry saw Freddie and Sibyl slip out to the side porch. She saw them whispering and she was worried. Presently Sibyl came back into the house wearing a secretive expression. That meant Freddie might be alone or easily pried loose from the other boys of his school. Cherry saw her chance to talk with him and hurried down the side porch after him.
In the hazy evening light he turned as Cherry called: “Mr. Barnes!”
He had no idea who the saucy-looking girl in red was, with her sparkling coloring and dark curls. Freddie Barnes awarded her a knock-em-dead smile. His expression flattened out when Cherry explained she was the school nurse and wanted his advice about their friend Sibyl.
“You want my advice?” Freddie said warily. “What’s the angle?”
“No angle. Sibyl is asking for trouble. The headmistress doesn’t know yet. I’m the only one who knows about her secret dates with you.”
“Don’t blame me.” Freddie jingled the change in his pocket. “I don’t force Sib to go out with me, you know. She loves every minute of it.”
“It would be better for her if you’d stop inviting her.”
“Say, look! I show Sib a slick time. How many girls in this school d’you think ever get their noses inside the Golden Door Inn?”
“And how many couldn’t care less? It wasn’t nice of you to get money for your expenses by selling her bracelet.”
Freddie laughed. “What of it? It’s a good joke. Sib isn’t mad, so why should you or anybody care?”
“Because you’re imposing on her, and she’s a pupil here, and we care about what happens to her.”
“You mean, you’re asking me to obey the rules of a girls’ school because old Sib’s just another schoolgirl, hey? Maybe I’d better find a girl a little older. Now if you’ll excuse me, some of the fellows are waiting for me.”
“Better think over what you’re doing. I’d so much rather not go to the headmistress about this.”
“I won’t promise you a thing,” Freddie said sulkily. He stalked off to a parked jeep.
Well, she had tried. Whether Freddie had really paid any heed to what she had said was a big question. She only wished Sibyl would get some sense and acquire a better taste in boys.
When examination day arrived, Nancy Davenport turned up in the infirmary, sick, just as Mrs. Harrison had predicted she would and generally did. Too sick to take examinations, Nancy moaned.
To Cherry’s trained eyes the girl was not faking sickness; she was sick. Cherry had seldom seen a more wretched specimen. Nancy sagged and ran a slight temperature; her hair hung limp and dull. She complained of headache and being sick at her stomach. Cherry put her into an infirmary bed and did not say one word about the tests.
“Miss Cherry, did you ever feel like you’d swallowed two dozen spoiled eggs and then stood on your head? That’s how I feel.”
Cherry remembered nausea is also a symptom of appendicitis.
“Well, your complexion has a delicate green tinge. I’ve telephoned Dr. Alan to come over and admire it.”
Nancy tried to brighten but merely hiccuped.
“He’s so nice, I don’t want him to see me when I’m the color of pea soup. Ugh, why did I mention that? How soon will he be here?”
Dr. Alan arrived as the bell rang to announce the second class hour, and the second quiz. These were only fifteen-minute quizzes, both the doctor and nurse knew, just monthly brushups, and no reason for Nancy to go into one of her declines.
“If we weren’t on dry land,” Dr. Alan declared, after checking Nancy over with Cherry’s assistance, “I’d say you were seasick. Seriously, my diagnosis is an attack of worry, and a probably self-induced upset stomach.”
“That’s a horrid, unfair diagnosis,” Nancy protested. “I wish you felt as awful as I do.”
“No, thanks!” Dr. Alan said. “Don’t try to fool a doctor and nurse. Isn’t it a coincidence that last term, and now this term, you managed to get sick at exam time?”
“Honestly, I don’t do it deliberately. It’s just that, with exams coming, I get so scared I’m sick.”
“And then you escape taking your exams, and Mrs. Harrison isn’t very strict about makeup exams.”
Dr. Alan looked across the top of their bedraggled patient’s head to Cherry. “Miss Cherry, as the nurse in this case you will administer bismuth paste, and a diet of plain boiled rice. We’ll cure this girl.”
He did not say of what. Alan wrote out his instructions and strode out before Cherry had a chance to gesture that in her humble opinion he was judging Nancy pretty severely. She hurried after him in the hall, but he grinned, waved, and ran down the staircase two steps at a time.
Cherry went back to the infirmary and gave her patient a glass of warm salt water. This was a simple method to empty Nancy’s stomach. Nancy obligingly threw up, then said she felt worse. “You’ll feel better now,” Cherry promised, and lowered the blinds, placed a screen partly around Nancy’s bed for privacy, and urged her to sleep. When the girl dozed, Cherry called in Mrs. Snyder, the housekeeper, to sit there a few minutes. Cherry went downstairs to the kitchen.
“Good, morning, Auntie Collier. Could you tell me something I need to know, please? Has Nancy Davenport been eating anything beside her regular meals, that you know of?”
“That child! Is she sick to her stomach? It’s small wonder. Now, mind you, Miss Cherry, 1 didn’t give her all those biscuits. She begs and coaxes ’em from me, at all hours, till I break down and let her have ’em, just to get the child out from underfoot.”
The biscuits, it developed, were leftover and hard.
Auntie Collier reported that Nancy had behaved in this manner about once a month last year.
“She craved biscuits a few days before exams?” Cherry asked.
“Yes’m, I think so. I tell her not to eat them, I tell her to let me soak ’em in water and toss ’em on the grass for the birds. But that Nancy, she spreads peanut butter all over ’em and—”
“And I can guess the rest. Thanks, Mrs. Collier.”
Cherry made a stop at Nancy’s room for her bathrobe. Her roommate, shy little Mary Gray, was in there, cleaning up for luncheon.
“How are you, Miss Cherry? I spilled paint all over my shoes in arts and crafts this morning, so I—” Mary gulped in embarrassment and held out the shoes.
“Pink and green dappled shoes. Hmm, you might start a new style. Can you find Nancy’s bathrobe for me?”
Mary went to one of the two closets, giving the nurse a look half guilty, half puzzled. “I knew Nancy wasn’t feeling right but—ah—Nothing.”
“Are you trying to tell me something?” There was a loyal silence. “Can you tell me what Nancy has been gorging herself with?” Mary blushed. “Well, can you give me Nancy’s bathrobe?”
Mary opened the closet and out tumbled several candy-bar boxes, mostly empty. A peanut- marshmallow-caramel-chocolate-coated conglomeration appeared to be Nancy’s favorite. Its name was Wow and Cherry remarked it should be Ow.
“She bought ’em wholesale,” Mary said sadly.
“When?”
“Well, maybe I shouldn’t tell you this—it’s one of those intimate things between roommates. Well, Nancy got the candy bars a week ago. She said she’d eat them while we crammed for the tests, because she needed extra strength.”
“Do you mean to say that she consumed four boxes? Singlehanded? What about you, Mary?”
“I stick to hard candy,” Mary said conservatively.
Cherry took the bathrobe and returned to her patient. Nancy had made herself ill, if not consciously, then accidentally on purpose. Anybody with a grain of sense would know that even anyone with a cast iron stomach could not digest four dozen Wows plus leftover biscuits.
Was it, though, a matter for punishment? The gorging looked on the surface like a deliberate plan. Yet it was a known medical fact that some people, when worried or frustrated, stuffed themselves with food. The real question here, Cherry thought, was why did Nancy take this elaborate route to dodge her exams. She was an average bright girl, and her roommate testified that Nancy had been studying. Why were exams such a crisis for her? Other girls had stage fright before exams, but not to this extreme.
The day wore on. The only visitors to the infirmary were Mrs. Harrison and two sufferers with postquiz headaches. Cherry concentrated on Nancy. To allow her digestive system a rest, Cherry gave Nancy for lunch and supper only the plain boiled rice which Dr. Alan had prescribed. She did not let her have water, either, but gave cracked ice to relieve her thirst.
By evening, after a back rub, Nancy felt much better. Cherry judged she was well enough to talk.
“How could you be such a goop?” Cherry asked, point-blank. If she said foolish Nancy might be on guard, but the word goop was comfortably vague and friendly.
“Was I a goop? Yes, I was. I don’t know why.”
“Well, think why.”
“Because I was so hungry. I felt worn to a frazzle when I was getting ready for exams.”
Cherry did not doubt that. “But why so tired at the mere prospect of exams? If you were tired after exams, that would be more understandable. Nancy, tell me something. What would happen to you if you failed the exams?”
Nancy groaned. “Don’t mention such a horrible subject. It’s all too likely.”
“Likely? Then you expect to fail?”
“Well, I—not exactly—although—”
“You’re so afraid of failing that you’d rather not risk taking exams?” Cherry persisted. “Is that it?”
Evidently she had touched a tender spot. Nancy twisted the ends of her hair around one finger, and gazed at the ceiling.
“Now listen to me, Nancy,” Cherry said sympathetically. “Almost everybody is scared of something, whether it’s mice or lightning or exams. Sometimes there’s sufficient reason for being afraid—sometimes there isn’t. It helps to figure out what would result if, just if, you happened to fail the exams.”
Cherry waited. Nancy lay thinking. Her face clouded.
“My parents would be furious with me. They’d be so terribly disappointed. They’re always saying, ‘We want to be proud of our daughter.’ And what brilliant students they both were in college! And you know how the girls here laugh about anyone who can’t make the grade. They’d act as if I was a feeble minded dodo.”
“Discouraging,” Cherry admitted, “but look here! Have you ever actually failed an exam?”
Nancy made an effort to remember. “No, I don’t think I ever failed one. But that doesn’t prove I won’t.”
“What were your average marks last year?”
“Between eighty and eighty five.”
“Why, that’s very good! Especially for a goop, so called. Do you do good work in class when there are no quizzes to unnerve you?” The girl nodded. “Nancy, it looks to me as if your fear of exams is unnecessary, exaggerated out of all proportion to the facts. You’ve blown up a fantasy as one blows up a balloon. Let’s stick a pin in it.”
Cherry’s idea (depending on the headmistress’s approval) was that Nancy was to take all exams, and, if she failed, no one but the instructor and Nancy would know. Then the other girls could not tease her, and her parents could not be disappointed or furious.
Nancy was uneasy about trying this system. She looked almost sick again when Cherry insisted she start with taking the quizzes missed today.
“And if you should fail,” Cherry said gently, “we can ask Mrs. Harrison not to schedule makeup exams until you’ve had a period of study.”
“Miss Cherry, maybe you’re going to be my ruination, as Auntie Collier says about the biscuits. But I certainly do thank you for opening my eyes, or at least trying to. I think I see a tiny bit of what you mean already.”
Next day Nancy was cured. Next day, too, Mrs. Harrison agreed with her usual kindness to the plan Cherry suggested. A couple of days later Cherry heard that Nancy had taken makeups on all the missed quizzes. The instructors probably had her papers graded by now. Cherry did not ask how Nancy made out. Then she saw Nancy bouncing around in the corridor, handing out her remaining candy bars to the other girls and shouting, “Get ’em while they’re hot! Dee-licious! Step right up!” Cherry grinned and helped herself.
She knew even before Nancy told her that the girl had passed with flying colors.
A little after nine on Sunday evening, Sibyl Martin limped into the infirmary. Cherry was powdering her nose for her first date with Dr. Alan Wilcox. She was so annoyed and disappointed by this interruption that she had to remind herself a nurse is always on call in an emergency. Sibyl’s twisted, swollen ankle was an emergency, all right. The fact that Sibyl was all dressed up in hat, coat, and gloves puzzled Cherry.
“Never mind, Mrs. Snyder. Thanks, anyway,” Cherry said. The housekeeper was all settled to pinch hit for her for two hours. “I’m not going out, after all.”
Left alone with Sibyl, Cherry questioned her on how she sprained her ankle. Sibyl kept insisting she had fallen in her room.
In ten minutes Dr. Alan arrived. Cherry asked him to examine Sibyl’s ankle and murmured how sorry she was about not keeping their date.
“You’re not half as sorry as I am!” Alan said as Cherry walked out to the hall with him.
“Miss Cherry!” Sibyl called. “It’s killing me!”
“Do you know what I’d like to prescribe for that spoiled infant?”
“Dr. Alan, we’ll have the ice cream cones yet. That’s a promise.”
“A good spanking is what I’d recommend for her. I don’t believe her account of how she twisted her ankle.”
Neither did Cherry but she intended to find out. As Alan went down the stairs, she returned to the infirmary. Cherry cautioned herself not to “take out” her disappointment on the patient. Sibyl had not ruined her evening on purpose.
“Where were you going in all your finery?” Cherry asked. “After the curfew bell, too!”
“Please don’t scold me, Miss Cherry. I’ve had all I can stand for one evening.” Her face puckered as if she were about to cry. “Some people are plain cruel!”
Cherry made no reply except to say she thought Sibyl would be better off in her own room tonight than in an infirmary bed. “I’ll help you to your room. You can rest your weight on my shoulder, and hobble.”
They managed it, with plaintive grunts from Sibyl. Several girls along the hall opened their doors a crack, to peek. Cherry opened Sibyl’s door, reached in, and turned on the lights. She saw a “rope,” improvised of sheets knotted together. One end of it was tied to the bedframe and the other end hung out the open window.
“Sibyl Martin! What did you think you were doing?” Cherry exclaimed. “Eloping?”
“Ssh! Do you want the entire school to know?” Sibyl sank down on the bed.
Cherry had heard a commotion in Mrs. Harrison’s office the evening of the tea—sounds of arguing, and then Sibyl’s raised voice. So Mrs. Harrison must have placed Sibyl under strict surveillance and Sibyl’s response was to use a sheet ladder to keep a date with someone.
“Was it Freddie?” From the way Sibyl hesitated, Cherry knew it was Freddie and no one else. Cherry looked out the window into the brightly moonlit garden. She saw no sign of Freddie, only a squashed rose bush. Sibyl must have landed in that.
“He was supposed to meet me—with the jeep. We made the date the other afternoon at the school tea,” Sibyl started to cry noisily. “And now he didn’t—he never even—Oh, Miss Cherry, how can a man be so cruel? Freddie never showed up!”
Cherry held her hand sympathetically. Sibyl wailed: “We were going to be married and all I got was a sprained ankle!”
Apparently—Cherry did some rapid thinking—her words of warning to Freddie, after the tea, had borne results. Perhaps she had not persuaded Freddie of his foolishness; probably she had only made him see Sibyl as a sixteen-year-old schoolgirl, not a sophisticate. But that was enough, as far as results went for the moment. But if they actually had been considering elopement—marriage—they might still go through with it.
“Sibyl,” Cherry started gently, “I’m not going to scold you. You’ve had a bitter experience, this evening. Imagine how many more bitter experiences Freddie would treat you to—if this is the way he behaves at the very beginning!”
Sibyl sniffled and clenched her jaw in a stubborn way. Cherry tried another approach.
“Even if Freddie were the young prince you take him for, don’t you think elopement is a rather cheap way to do things? It would be hard on your parents, too. Here they just gave your older sister a beautiful wedding, while you sneak out of school via a bed sheet—”
“That’s enough,” Sibyl interrupted sharply. She blew her nose. “It is cheap. I never thought of it in that light.”
“How old is Freddie?”
Sibyl said that he was nearly eighteen.
“You’re both too young to get married,” Cherry observed. “There probably will be someone in your future you’ll like better.”
“I can’t believe it, Miss Cherry. I’m mad about Freddie.”
“Being mad about Freddie isn’t enough to base a marriage on. If you marry the wrong person, you can ruin the rest of your life, or at least have an awful, wretched time. I don’t think Freddie is worth sacrificing your happiness for, or your parents’. Do you?”
Sibyl sat thinking, chewing a corner of her handkerchief. She burst out, “Freddie never even let me know he wasn’t coming!”
“Boys who leave girls waiting at the church, so to speak, don’t generally bother to notify them.”
Sibyl was incensed. “Freddie didn’t drop me! He probably was unavoidably delayed. I wouldn’t be a bit surprised if he showed up yet! He was only an hour late when I gave up waiting and dragged myself upstairs to the infirmary.”
“Oh, Sibyl, Sibyl! The boys’ school is only five or six miles away and he has a car. At least he could have telephoned.”
Sibyl turned a suspicious stare on Cherry.
“Did you just happen to tell him to keep away from me? Or did prissy old Harrison? No one in this stuffy school is going to run my life for me!”
“For heaven’s sake, Sibyl, come to your senses,” Cherry said wearily, and went out.
Mrs. Harrison would learn the whole story now, if only because of Sibyl’s limp. Cherry went down to report to the headmistress, an unpleasant business. A school nurse had to treat a great deal more than upset stomachs and sprained ankles!