# The Leader of the Lower School/Chapter 19
### CHAPTER XIX The United Guild Festival

Mr. Gordon had been most seriously concerned at the news of Gipsy's unauthorized flight, and considering the part which his daughter Meg had played in helping her to escape, he held himself to be morally responsible for the consequences of so foolish a step, and had started at once for Liverpool in search of the truant. Until very late at night he had used all efforts to trace her, but without success; then as soon as possible in the morning, acting on the knowledge of Gipsy's plans which Meg had supplied, he had telephoned to every steamship company in the city that ran vessels to South Africa, giving a description of the girl, and asking, if she called at the office, that she might be detained until he could arrive and claim her. By a fortunate chance he rang up the Tower Line at the very time when Gipsy had presented herself to enquire for work, so, jumping into a taxicab, he had driven immediately from his hotel to their offices.
On the whole, Gipsy was so relieved to see a friend who was prepared to take charge of her that she submitted quite peaceably to be escorted back to Greyfield. The clerk's hilarity at her application for a stewardess-ship, and his assurance that such posts ​were only given to middle-aged women, had upset her calculations, and remembering her forlorn condition of the previous night, she was glad not to risk a repetition of such a painful experience. Mr. Gordon had at first intended to take her home with him to The Gables, but on telephoning to his wife on his arrival at Greyfield station, he learnt about the missing letter which had been discovered in Daisy Scatcherd's coat pocket, and decided it would be better for her to go straight to Briarcroft.
The prospect of a letter from her father was a magnet more than sufficient to draw Gipsy back to school. All fear of Miss Poppleton's wrath faded away in the excitement of this wonderful news.
"And to think that if I'd gone to South Africa I should have missed it!" she exclaimed.
Miss Poppleton received the prodigal with wonderful graciousness, and Miss Edith wept over her, upbraided her, and kissed her all at once.
"Gipsy, darling! How could you be so naughty? You might have known we were your best friends. I never slept all night for worrying about you; and I'm sure Miss Poppleton didn't either. To think that you should have run away from us! And your letter was there all the time, if we'd only known! It's locked up safely in my desk, all ready for you."
"Give it me now, please!" pleaded Gipsy.
Although Gipsy's return to Briarcroft had been a very desirable conclusion to the episode of her running away, there were several matters left which remained in a far from satisfactory condition. In the first place, though her father's letter had relieved all anxiety about ​her school fees and general expenses, and removed her from her former most unpleasant position, it did not give any clue to his present whereabouts. Beyond the brief information that he was going to the sources of a tributary of the Zambesi, she knew nothing. There was no address given to which she might write, or any definite date fixed for his return to civilization. The London bankers, with whom Miss Poppleton at once communicated, had no further knowledge. He seemed to have disappeared into the unexplored wilds of Central Africa, and to have left no trace. In view of the dangers to which a pioneering party, such as he had joined, would be exposed from wild beasts, hostile natives, lack of food and water, or the hardships of travelling in the interior of the continent, there was cause for considerable uneasiness on his behalf. It seemed high time that some news was received of the expedition. It was now seven months from the date of Mr. Latimer's letter, and he had apparently expected to return in three or four.
Poor Gipsy conjured up all kinds of fears for her father's safety. She imagined him ill in some inaccessible spot, without medical aid, or taken prisoner by a native chief, or—more terrible still—that he had succumbed to the dangers and difficulties of the journey. She carried his letter about as her greatest treasure, and kissed it a dozen times a day; but she felt that, while appreciating its possession, she found it a very unsatisfactory substitute for the fuller details she coveted of his present welfare.
Her second trouble was the fact that she was still supposed to be guilty of that surreptitious outing in ​the evening, and to have flatly told falsehoods to screen herself. Gipsy had many faults, but she was strictly truthful, and this imputation against her honour rankled sorely. Miss Poppleton had not pressed the matter, probably thinking it a secondary consideration to her greater crime of running away. In her relief at receiving a handsome cheque from Mr. Latimer's bankers, the Principal had decided to forgive Gipsy's past indiscretions, and to start afresh on a different basis. By a little rearrangement she managed to find room for Gipsy again in her old dormitory, and the manifold odd duties which had been assigned to her were entirely removed. Once back in her favourite No. 3, with a new set of summer clothes and an ample supply of pocket-money, Gipsy felt reinstated in her former position in school. With the utmost satisfaction she paid up her arrears of subscriptions to the Guild, and put straight several other little matters where she felt she owed a moral if not an actual debt.
"There's only one thing that makes me savage," she declared one evening to some of her own set who were assembled in the Juniors' room, "and that is that Poppie still believes I told those awful fibs about not going out that wet evening. On my honour I spoke the truth. Somebody else must have gone out in my waterproof."
"What does it matter, now it's all over?" asked Leonora. "Poppie's forgiven you."
"Why, it matters a great deal. I don't want to be forgiven for what I've never done. And I don't care to possess a reputation for telling fibs. Whoever went ​out in my cloak ought to own up, and if she doesn't, she's a mean, detestable, contemptible sneak!"
"Shielding herself at your expense!" added Hetty indignantly.
Leonora turned as crimson as the woolwork she was stitching.
"I never thought of it in that way! It really never struck me!" she gasped. "I'm sure I've no wish to shield myself at anybody's expense. Why, if you want to know, it was I who went out in your waterproof and galoshes."
Leonora's announcement made the sensation it deserved.
"You! You!" cried the amazed girls.
"But why did you go?"
"How could you do such a thing?"
"Why didn't you tell?"
"I went for a very simple reason," replied Leonora coolly. "You know how fond I am of sweets, and what an abominably mean rule there is here about our not buying them. Well, I just couldn't stand doing without my chocolates, so I used to dodge out whenever I dared to that little shop in Mansfield Road, and buy some. On that particular wet evening I was in a fearful hurry to go before I began practising, so I rushed to the hall cupboard and seized on the first waterproof and hat and galoshes that came to hand. I didn't know they were Gipsy's."
"And yet you let her bear the blame!" exclaimed Dilys heatedly.
"I thought, as she hadn't really done it, she'd very soon clear herself. She could have 'proved an alibi' ​directly, if the thing had been properly gone into. There were heaps of girls who could have witnessed for her. Even though she did crawl under the table and go out of the room, the times didn't fit in, as Poppie would have found directly, if she'd troubled to ask."
"That's true. Poppie was utterly prejudiced; she asked a few hasty questions, never noticed whether the stories agreed, and jumped to a conclusion," said Hetty.
"Then, when Gipsy came back, Poppie dropped the matter entirely," continued Leonora. "I thought she knew she'd made a mistake. I didn't see any use in getting myself into trouble if I could help it, so I held my tongue."
"And disgustingly mean of you, too!" exploded Lennie.
"You're the most extraordinary girl, Leonora! I never saw anybody like you!" commented Dilys.
"You'll tell Poppie now, won't you?" urged Hetty.
Leonora shrugged her shoulders.
"Of course I shall. She can do what she likes. I don't mind if she expels me! I'm sick of Briarcroft and its strict rules. I'd rather try another school, where they'd allow one to buy more sweets. I never much wanted to come here. I think I'll go and explain to Poppie now; she'll be in the study. If she expels me, I could just go home in time for next Thursday. Mother's giving a big garden party, and having some Russian dancers down from London. They're to give a performance on a platform on the lawn. I'm simply wild to see them!"
​As Leonora walked calmly from the room, the girls broke into a universal "Well!" of astonished comment.
"She didn't even tell you she was sorry, Gipsy!" remarked Lennie.
"Never mind! As long as she sets me right with Poppie I don't care," returned Gipsy.
"She seems to want to be expelled," said Dilys.
"Poppie's pet won't be expelled, no fear!" laughed Hetty. "Catch Poppie parting with her millionairess! She's much too good an advertisement for the school."
"I think Poppie'll have somewhat to say on the subject, though!" remarked Dilys.
Both Dilys and Hetty proved right. Leonora was not expelled, but Miss Poppleton gave her a severe lecture on the error of her ways, and a warning against any further transgression of Briarcroft rules. She returned to the Juniors' room in a very chastened frame of mind.
"Poppie was as hard as nails," she volunteered. "She won't let me go home on Thursday to the garden party, so I shan't see the Russian dancers. Isn't it a shame?"
"Well, in my opinion it about serves you right, Leonora Parker," retorted Dilys. "You've looked at the affair all along entirely from your own point of view. I don't believe you'd have told now if you hadn't wanted to go home. You've not begged Gipsy's pardon yet."
"Oh, never mind!" said Gipsy magnanimously. "What do I care, now it's all serene with Poppie? I've proved I don't tell fibs, anyhow. I like people to know I'm straight and square and above-board, ​and since that's put right, I vote we drop the subject."
"I shall have the picnic next week, even if I don't see the Russian dancers," murmured Leonora.
The suggestion of a united picnic for the whole of the Lower School, which had been unanimously carried at the Guild meeting, had been approved by Miss Poppleton, and the date fixed for a day early in July. As it was the first outing in connection with the United Guild, the girls were anxious to celebrate the occasion with as much observance as possible. It had been decided to visit a castle about six miles away, and it was thought that the ruins would provide a picturesque setting for something in the nature of a grand ceremony.
"Like the Freemasons, you know," said Gipsy, "or any of those old 'worshipful companies' that meet and have big dinners and enjoy themselves."
"What do the Freemasons do?" enquired Lennie. "I thought their meetings were dead secrets."
"So they are; but sometimes they have processions through the streets, and carry banners. We might have a banner, and wear badges."
The idea of a banner appealed to the girls, who set to work with the greatest enthusiasm to make one. It was designed by Fiona Campbell, and carried out by a committee of six, chosen for their skill in needlework. It had a cream-coloured ground, on which was a bold pattern, in appliqué, of pink briar roses with green leaves, meant as a delicate compliment to Briarcroft. In the centre, in large green letters, was the motto chosen by the Guild: "United we Stand". ​It was decided at a special meeting that every member must wear a briar rose for a badge, and as real wild roses seemed too perishable to be of much use, an extra committee undertook to construct a sufficient quantity of artificial ones out of crinkled paper. Officers were to wear pale pink sashes, tied over the right shoulder and under the left arm, and a wreath of pink roses round their hats. The form of ceremony for the occasion was entrusted to Gipsy's fertile brain, for nobody else felt equal to inventing it. These preparations naturally absorbed all the energies of the Lower School. Many willing hands set to work to make paper flowers, copying a very pretty specimen of a briar rose twisted by the drawing mistress out of pink crinkled paper, with a most natural-looking green leaf, and secured with fine wire.
Gipsy, who wished the affair to be a great day in the annals of the Juniors, kept adding fresh items to her ceremonial programme till she made a list that filled her with satisfaction. There was nothing she loved so dearly as inventing entertainments, and this festival gave her just the opportunity for which she longed. As organizing secretary she was allowed full powers of administration, so she picked out her performers, called rehearsals, and arranged every detail with scrupulous care and attention.
The school picnic had generally been held on Saturdays, but thinking the castle would be more free from visitors on a Friday, Miss Poppleton had granted a special half-holiday for the purpose. Most fortunately the day turned out to be fine, and by two o'clock seventy-four excited Juniors were waiting for the ​arrival of the wagonettes that were to convey them to the ruins. Each Form was accompanied by its own mistress, and Miss Poppleton and Miss Edith completed the party. Every girl wore her briar rose badge, and the officers their sashes and wreaths. The banner was carried rolled up, but ready to be unfurled when the ceremonies should begin. Riggside Tower, the old ruined keep that was the goal of their excursion, had a romantic history of its own, and had been the scene of many an exciting struggle in border warfare. The guidebook related the legends of illustrious prisoners, fierce hand-to-hand combats, doughty champions, secret passages, underground dungeons, thrilling escapes, and other episodes of the past that added greatly to the attraction of the ancient building.
Some of the girls had been there before, but to others it was a fresh spot, and all looked with interest as the wagonettes turned a particular corner of the road where the first glimpse of the castle could be seen. It was a grey, turreted fortress, with half of its west wall battered down by Cromwell's cannon, and the rest in a crumbling state, chiefly held together by the great masses of ivy that clung round the worn stones. In former days it must have been grim and bare enough, but kindly Nature had thrown her mantle of greenery around it, and softened its rugged outlines. Wallflowers and scarlet valerian and the pretty trailing ivy-leaved toadflax were growing in every nook and cranny where they could find root-hold; a thick grove of trees clothed the base of the south front; and the courtyard was a strip of verdant sward thickly covered with daisies. Gipsy took a ​survey of the old keep with the greatest complacency. No place could possibly have provided a better background for the pageant she had arranged. The courtyard made a natural theatre, and the stones lying about would provide seats for the audience. Happily there were very few visitors that day, so they had the castle almost to themselves, and could go through their programme without interfering with the convenience of other people. It was decided to begin the ceremonies at once, so that they would be over in good time before tea.
The banner, which had been rolled on two school pointers, was unfurled and borne aloft by Lennie Chapman and Meg Gordon, and very fine it looked with its design of wild roses and its motto in the centre. The members of the Guild, walking two and two, fell into line, and, preceded by the banner bearers and the chief officers, marched round the courtyard.
Barbara Kendrick had been constituted crier, and, ringing a small handbell, shouted the opening announcement in true mediaeval fashion:
"Oyez! Oyez! Oyez! Be it known to one and all that this worshipful companie is the Briarcroft United Juniors' Guild."
As the girls marched they chanted a ditty, the words of which had been composed by Gipsy for the event, though the music was out of one of the school song books:
"We've met to-day to celebrate A very great occasion, We wish to show by this display Our Guild's inauguration.
"For be it known to one and all, This blissful companie Doth now unite all former Guilds, So many as there be.
"Athletics, Music, Drama, Arts, We do include them all In the United Juniors' Guild We form at Briarcroft Hall.
"Each member's pledged to do her best To aid the common weal, And to the tenets of the Guild Aye to be stanch and leal.
"Then wave the banner, flaunt the badge, And Crier, ring the bell! Good luck to our United Guild! Long may it prosper well!"
Miss Poppleton, Miss Edith, and the mistresses, who composed the audience, applauded heartily at the end of the marching song.
It had made a good introduction for the Guild, and an opening for the proceedings which were to follow. Gipsy's programme had been drawn up somewhat on the lines of a May Day masque; she herself called it "The Festival of the Briar Rose". It consisted of a number of songs and dances, appropriate to the occasion, which she had collected from the repertoire of the Lower School. Each Form took its own turn. The little girls of the First performed a charming flower dance, the Second sang a madrigal in praise of summer and the Lower Third a May Day glee, the Upper Third executed a lively Tarantella, the Lower Fourth took Sir Roger de Coverley, the Upper Fourth ​chanted an Elizabethan Ode to the Spring, while at the end the whole Guild joined in a morris dance.
Besides wearing their badges, the girls had brought with them some garlands and a number of bunches of flowers, to be used in the dances, so that the whole affair, seen against the background of the ancient tower, had a most romantic and picturesque effect. A few parties of visitors, who were looking over the castle, stopped to watch the performance, and appeared greatly to enjoy it. To Miss Poppleton and the teachers the various items were of course well known, as they had been often rendered at school; but thus combined, in such suitable surroundings, they made quite a pretty pageant. Gipsy was in her element, marshalling, conducting, directing, and acting leader, while all the time taking her own part in the singing and dancing. As the members ranged themselves at the end, and wound up the programme with "God Save the King", she felt a thrill of delighted gratification. The Guild, which had begun under her auspices, and which she had so carefully fostered, seemed a well-established institution of the Lower School, likely to continue and flourish among the Juniors for many years to come. If she had done nothing else during her three terms at Briarcroft, it was a satisfaction to feel that she had accomplished this much. Perhaps some such thought struck her companions.
"Hip, hip, hip, hooray for the Guild!" shouted Hetty Hancock. "And hip, hip, hip, hooray for the Festival! And hip, hip, hip, hooray, girls, for our secretary, Gipsy Latimer! She arranged it all, and she deserves a hearty vote of thanks."
​As the vigorous cheers rang out, Gipsy stood with flushed cheeks and shining eyes. It was sweet to have her schoolgirl triumph, and to feel that her efforts on behalf of her fellow Juniors had met with so much appreciation.
When the applause died away and the girls broke up, a stranger, who from behind a portion of the ruins had been an eager witness of the proceedings, stepped up to Miss Poppleton.
"I should like to add my congratulations," he remarked. "Perhaps you don't remember me? If I may have one word with the little secretary of your Guild, she will tell you who I am."
But at that moment Gipsy caught sight of him, and with one wild cry of "Father!" flung herself into his arms.
How Mr. Latimer had arrived upon the scene at such an extremely opportune moment demands a word of explanation, so we will narrate his story as he told it to Gipsy afterwards. In the previous November, after landing at Cape Town, he had joined a pioneering expedition, and gone far into the interior to prospect for minerals. The little party had experienced many hardships, perils, and privations, but had been very successful in its discoveries, finding a rich vein of gold that promised a handsome return when worked. Once back at Cape Town, Mr. Latimer had taken the first vessel to England, landing there with the mails. Finding that he could reach Briarcroft as soon as a letter, he had decided to go straight there in person, instead of writing to Gipsy to tell her of his coming. On his arrival at the school, he had learnt that his ​daughter, with a number of her companions, had started for a picnic at Riggside Tower; so, keeping the taxicab in which he had driven from Greyfield station, he had followed at once to the castle. Finding the Guild celebrations in progress, he had not interrupted the programme, but, concealing himself in an angle where he could see without being seen, he had remained an interested spectator of the pageant, waiting till the affair was over before he made his presence known.
Gipsy's rapture at this reunion was enough to compensate her for all the trouble she had endured during her father's absence. "You won't go away, Dad, and leave me again?" she pleaded.
"No, sweetheart! Fortunately I have business in connection with these newly discovered mines that will keep me in England for a year or two. You can continue at Briarcroft, where by all appearance you seem to be much appreciated, and we can spend all your holidays together. No more gadding about the world just at present. Will that suit you, little woman?"
"Splendiferously!" answered Gipsy, with a sigh of ecstasy.
There is very little more to be told. For Gipsy the sequel was a time of intense thankfulness and utter content. Two matters, however, which disturbed her, she brought to her father's notice, and he at once settled them to their common satisfaction.
He paid a visit to the secondhand shop of Mr. Daniel Lucas in Greyfield, and bought back her watch and chain; and though he was obliged to pay four ​pounds to regain what she had parted with for ten shillings, he was glad to get possession on any terms of what was to him a treasure to be valued for old time's sake. He further hunted out the little confectioner at Waterloo who had sheltered his daughter in her hour of need, and gave her not only his heartfelt thanks, but a more substantial token of his appreciation. Gipsy, you may be sure, lost no time in introducing him to her friends the Gordons, for whose share in fetching her back from Liverpool Mr. Latimer considered he owed a debt of gratitude. It was arranged that the two families should spend a summer holiday together in Switzerland—an event to which Donald, Meg, and Gipsy, with their thoughts on the joys of mountaineering, looked forward with the keenest anticipation.
"I've only one regret," confessed Gipsy on the breaking-up day. "If I'm moved up next term into the Fifth, I shan't be Lower School any more, and it will mean goodbye to the United Guild."
But as none of us can remain stationary, and all growings are outgrowings, I think we may safely predict that Gipsy, who won her way as leader of the Juniors, will have an equally successful career among the Seniors, and that her name will be handed down in the annals of Briarcroft institutions as that of one who upheld the common weal, and whose record was an asset to the school.