Читать книгу Fifth Formers at St. Clare's - Enid blyton - Страница 6

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The little first formers came and went at the bidding of the fifth. They ran errands, they made toast for tea and they chattered about their affairs to any one who would listen.

Mirabel was always kindest to those who were good at games. She encouraged them to practise well at catching and running for lacrosse, she made up the teams for the school, and coached them well in her spare time. The younger girls thought she was wonderful.

“You know, that little Molly Williams is awfully good,” said Mirabel to Gladys, when she was making up the teams one day. “I’ve a good mind to let her play in the third team, Gladys. And Jane Teal is good too, if she would practise running a bit more. She could be quite fast.”

“Little Antoinette is just as bad as Claudine,” said Gladys. “I can’t get her to practise at all, or to take any interest in games. Claudine doesn’t back us up there, either. She is always telling Antoinette good excuses to make.”

“I’m tired of Claudine and her silly ways,” said Mirabel, impatiently. “She’s cunning. She’ll get herself expelled one day!”

“Oh, no—she isn’t as bad as that,” said Gladys, quite shocked. “She’s just different from us that’s all. She’s better than she was.”

“I should hope so, after all these terms at St. Clare’s,” said Mirabel, writing the list of girls for the third team. “Well—I’ve put Molly Williams down—she’ll be thrilled.”

“It’s a pity Angela and Alison order the young ones about so much,” said Gladys. “They have always got one or other of them in their study, doing something for them. Angela even got Jane Teal in to do some mending for her, and that’s not allowed.”

“I’ll speak to Jane about it,” said Mirabel, in her direct way. “I’ll tell her she’s not supposed to do Angela’s mending, and she must use that time to get out on the practice field.”

“Well—wouldn’t it be better to tell Angela that, not Jane?” said Gladys. “It would come better from Angela, if she told Jane to stop doing her mending, than it would from you.”

“I’ll deal with Jane myself,” said Mirabel, very much the sports captain, rather over-bearing and arrogant that morning.

“Jane’s fond of Angela,” said Gladys, as Mirabel went out of the room. Mirabel snorted.

“She looks up to me no end,” she said. “I’m pretty certain she’ll do what I want, and not what Angela says. You really can leave these things to me, Gladys.”

Mirabel found Jane Teal and called to her. “Hie Jane! Come here a minute!”

The fourteen-year-old Jane, small, slight and quick, went to Mirabel, her face flushing. She wondered if Mirabel was going to tell her she was to play in the third team with Molly. What a thrill that would be!

“Jane,” said Mirabel, in her direct way, “I want you to do a bit more practising in the field the next few weeks. You’ll be good if you really do practise. You ought to have been out this week. I hear you’ve been doing Angela’s mending instead, and you know you don’t need to do that.”

“I like to,” said Jane, flushing again. “I’m good at sewing and Angela isn’t. I like doing things for her.”

“Well, you give that up and pay more attention to games,” said Mirabel. “I’m in charge of games and I want the good players doing their best.”

“I will do my best,” said Jane, proud to hear the great Mirabel say that she was one of the good players. “But I did promise Angela to do all her mending this term—at least I offered to, Mirabel.”

“Well, you must tell her you can’t,” said Mirabel, who quite failed to see that anything mattered except what she wanted herself.

“But—she’ll be very cross and upset—and I do like doing things for her,” said Jane, half-frightened, but obstinate. “I—I think she’s beautiful, Mirabel. Don’t you?”

“I don’t see what that’s got to do with it,” said Mirabel, impatiently. “Anyway, I’m your sports captain and you’ve got to do as you’re told. If you don’t, I shan’t let you play in even the fourth team, let alone the third.”

Mirabel’s tone was sharp. She turned on her heel and went off. Jane looked after her, and tears smarted in her eyes. She admired Mirabel so much—and she did like Angela so much too. Angela had such a lovely smile and she said such nice things. The other girl she shared her study with was nice too—Alison.

Jane went to find her friend, Sally. She told her all that Mirabel had said and Sally listened.

“Well,” said Sally, “you’ll have to do what Mirabel tells you if you want to play in the third team and have some good matches. Why don’t you go to Angela and tell her what Mirabel has said? You know quite well that if she is as sweet and kind as you say she is, she’ll say at once that of course you mustn’t do her mending any more.”

“Oh—that’s a good idea,” said Jane, looking happier. “I couldn’t bear to upset Angela, Sally. I do really think she’s wonderful. I should be miserable if she was angry with me.”

“Tell her when you go and make toast for her tea today,” said Sally. So that afternoon, rather tremblingly, Jane began to tell Angela what Mirabel had said.

“Angela,” she began, putting a piece of bread on to the toasting-fork, “Angela, I’ve brought your mending back. I’ve done everything, even that stocking that had a ladder all the way down the back of the leg.”

“Thanks, Jane,” said Angela and gave Jane a smile that thrilled her.

“But—I don’t believe I’ll be able to do it much more,” went on Jane.

“Why ever not?” demanded Angela. “You promised you would. I hate people who back out of things when they have promised to do them.”

“Well, you see—Mirabel spoke to me about it today,” said Jane, rather desperately. “She said—she said—”

“Oh, I can guess what she said,” said Angela sneeringly. “She said you were a wonderful player—and you must practise more—and you mustn’t do odd jobs for that horrid Angela. And you meekly said you wouldn’t. Little turn-coat.”

“Oh Angela, don’t talk like that,” said poor Jane. “It’s not fair. Of course Mirabel didn’t speak against you. But I have to do what she says, don’t I? She’s sports captain.”

“I don’t see why any one has to do what dear, hearty, loud-voiced Mirabel says!” said Angela. “I don’t see why because she’s mad on something she should expect every one else to be mad on it too. This passion for games, games, games! I agree with Claudine that it’s silly.”

“Oh but Angela,” said Jane, shocked, “games are lovely. And they make you get the team-spirit too, and play for your side instead of yourself—and—”

“Don’t preach at me,” said Angela, angrily. “You’re only a half-baked first former. I don’t care what you do, anyway. Go and practise running and catching morning, noon, and night if you want to. I shall certainly not allow you to do anything for me in future. I don’t like turn-coats. Leave that toast and go and find Violet Hill and send her to me. She can do my jobs instead of you.”

Jane was horrified at this outburst. She had given her heart to the beautiful, radiant Angela, and now it was treated as rubbish! Angela didn’t want her any more. She would have that silly Violet Hill, who adored Angela from afar and would do anything for a smile from her.

Jane gave a sob and rushed out of the room. In a few minutes Violet Hill came in, thrilled to be sent for. Angela gave her orders in a lazy voice, amused to see how the little first former almost trembled with excitement as she tidied up the room, and hung on Angela’s lightest word.

Alison came in after a while and looked surprised to see Violet there instead of Jane. “Where’s our devoted Jane?” she asked.

Angela told her in a few words what had happened. Violet Hill listened eagerly. She was glad that Jane was in disgrace. She would show Angela how much nicer she, Violet, was!

When Violet went out Alison spoke rather shortly to Angela. “You shouldn’t have said all that in front of Violet. You know how keen Jane was on you—she’ll have a fit if she knows all this will be passed round her form.”

“Serves her right,” said Angela, viciously.

“Angela, you make these kids awfully silly,” said Alison, after a pause. “I don’t really think you treat them properly. You oughtn’t to let them think you’re so wonderful. I bet poor Jane is crying her eyes out. You know Miss Theobald dislikes that kind of thing.”

Angela went pale with rage. She always hated being found fault with. She glared at Alison and tried to think of something really cutting. She found what she wanted at last.

“Really, Alison,” she said, in her lightest, most jeering voice, “really, Alison—who are you to talk of thinking people wonderful! You’re a perfect ninny over that wonderful Miss Willcox of yours, aren’t you? Why, you’re even trying to copy that deep voice of hers. It just makes me laugh.”

Alison was deeply hurt. When she was fond of any one she could not bear to hear a single word said against them.

“Miss Willcox is an absolutely sincere person,” she said, with dignity. “That’s why I like her. You’ve no interest in English literature, or anything at all really, except yourself, Angela—so you can’t understand my admiring any one with such an interesting character as Miss Willcox.”

“Tosh,” said Angela, rudely.

The two girls said no more to each other that evening. Angela fumed in silence and Alison wrote a long and as she fondly hoped, intelligent essay for Miss Willcox. It was not a very happy evening.

Angela had her knife into Mirabel after that. She did not dare to go and tackle Mirabel openly about Jane, because she was afraid of Mirabel’s rudeness. Mirabel was tasting power for the first time as sports captain, and she was rather arrogant and blunt in her speech. Also she was very thick-skinned and Angela despaired of being able to say anything that would hurt her.

So she had to content herself with looking at her sneeringly, and saying mocking things behind her back. But as sneering glances and words were typical of Angela when she was upset about something, no one took much notice, Mirabel least of all.

Angela made things up with Alison, not so much because she wanted to, but because she simply had to have some one to talk to and air her views to. Also, Alison genuinely admired her looks and her clothes, and it was always pleasant to bask in admiration of that sort.

Alison was not foolish with Angela as she had been when she first came. She no longer spoilt her and praised her and agreed with everything. But she could not hide her real admiration of the lovely girl with her shining golden hair, and brilliant blue eyes.

She was glad to make up the quarrel with Angela, for she wanted to talk about Miss Willcox—how wonderful she was in class, what beautiful poetry she wrote, how well she recited in that soulful voice of hers.

So, in return for admiration, Angela listened, rather bored, to all that Alison wanted to say. They were friends again—but it would not take much to turn them into enemies once more!