A Modern Tomboy | Page 5

She will play the dance
music. Oh, there are seven of us--one too many. Perhaps you will play
for us, Lucy?"
"But I don't know any dance music," said Lucy; "and then mother
would not like the rugs being disturbed. The room is arranged just as
father and mother wish it to be. I think perhaps"----
She colored painfully.
"We will do nothing without leave, of course," said Phyllis Flower. "I'll
just run and find Mrs. Merriman and ask her."
Before Lucy could prevent her, Phyllis had darted out of the room,

returning in a minute or two with the required permission.
"It's all right, girls," she said; "we can trip it on the light fantastic toe as
long as ever we please, and the rugs may go to Hong-kong for all Mrs.
Merriman cares."
Lucy colored with rage. Rosamund gave a quiet smile--a smile which
seemed to denote power. Phyllis's dancing eyes lit for a moment on
Lucy's face. Those eyes said in the most provoking manner, "I told you
so." And then some one went to the piano, and a minute or two later all
the girls, Lucy included, were dancing round and round the room in the
merry waltz.
Even Lucy enjoyed it when once it had begun, and the little performer
at the piano played well, and kept excellent time. And by-and-by Lucy
forgot herself, and could not help laughing when Rosamund seized her
round the waist and whirled her round and round, and taught her to
reverse, and instructed her in one or two other matters unknown to
Lucy up to the present.
The dance lasted for over an hour; and just in the midst of it, when
Lucy was really laughing in quite a heart-whole manner, she raised her
eyes and saw no less a person than Mr. Merriman himself standing in
the doorway. He was smiling, and his eyes were fixed on Rosamund's
face.
The moment Rosamund saw him she stopped at once, and said to Lucy,
"Is that your father, the great professor?"
"Yes," said Lucy.
"Please introduce him to me."
Lucy longed to say, "It will tire him; I can't do it." She longed to give
any sort of excuse, but none would come to her lips. She was forced to
take Rosamund up to Mr. Merriman.
"This is Rosamund Cunliffe," she said, "and she wants to know you,

father."
"I am very much pleased to see you, Miss Cunliffe," said Mr. Merriman;
and then Rosamund stood in the doorway and talked.
Lucy went back and tried to dance with another girl, and the dance
music still went on. But she could not help straining her ears and trying
to catch the subject of Rosamund's conversation. Why, she was
absolutely laughing, and the Professor, who was generally so grave and
quiet, was laughing also. What did it all mean?
"Father, aren't you tired?--Miss Cunliffe, you are tiring father," said
Lucy at last, running up to the door and trying to speak calmly.
"No, my dear," said her father. "On the contrary, I am intensely
interested.--You must tell me that story again, Miss Cunliffe. Would
you like to come and see my library?"
The two went off together, and Lucy felt almost as though she must
burst into tears. Phyllis's eyes again met her face, and she had to
restrain her feelings. The "I told you so" look was too maddening
almost for endurance.
Rosamund's love of power showed itself further in the arrangement of
her bedroom. She took down the dividing curtain between herself and
Jane Denton without asking any one's permission; and she slept in the
bed intended for Jane, and rearranged the drawers, putting them into
another part of the room; and complained about the wardrobe, saying
that she would like it put opposite the door instead of in its present
position. And whatever she wished was immediately done, and
whatever she said was said so politely that no one took offense. And
Lucy had to confess to herself that Phyllis was right, and that
Rosamund would be a power--the leading power--in the school.
Early the next day the two teachers arrived. Mademoiselle Omont was
very French in appearance, very dark, with sparkling black eyes and
neatly arranged soft dark hair. She had a truly Parisian accent, and a
pretty, graceful way about her. Miss Archer was a stolid-looking

woman of about five-and-thirty years of age. She had a long talk, on
her arrival, with Mrs. Merriman, and then she went to her room and
stayed there for some little time, so that it was not until tea-time that
the girls and the two resident governesses met.
Lucy looked with great approbation at Miss Archer when she took her
seat opposite the tea-tray.
"She will bring order into this chaos," thought the