Читать книгу First Term at Malory Towers - Enid blyton - Страница 6

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All the school met each morning for prayers. The girls stood together in their classes—first-formers of North Tower, South, East, and West Tower, all together, and so on.

Darrell took a nervous look at her class. What a big one it seemed! About twenty-five or thirty girls, surely. Miss Potts, her house-mistress, was also the first-form mistress. There was Mam’zelle Dupont, singing lustily, and the teacher beside her must be the other French mistress. But how different! She was skinny, tall and bony. Her hair too was done up in a little bun, but at the back instead of on top. Darrell thought she looked bad-tempered.

Alicia told her which the other mistresses were. “That’s the history mistress, Miss Carton over there—see her—the one with the high collar and pince-nez glasses on her nose. She’s frightfully clever, and awfully sarcastic if you don’t like history. And that’s the art mistress, Miss Linnie—she’s awfully nice. Very easy-going.”

Darrell hoped she would have a lot to do with Miss Linnie, if she was easy-going. She looked nice. She was young and had red hair done in little curls.

“That’s the music-master—Mr. Young—see him? He’s always either in a very good temper or a very bad one. We always try and find out which, when he takes us for music or singing.”

The matrons of the four houses were at Prayers too. Darrell saw her own Matron, looking a little stern, as she always did when she was thinking hard of what she was doing. Alicia began whispering again.

“And that’s ...”

Miss Potts’s eye swung round to her, and Alicia immediately stopped whispering and studied her hymn-book. Miss Potts did not look kindly on people who whispered at any time, least of all in Prayers.

Prayers over, the girls filed off to their various classrooms. These ran all along the west side of Malory Towers, and soon that building was filled with the sound of hurrying feet, laughter and chattering. There was no rule about silence in the corridors in the part of the building where the classrooms were.

The first-formers filed into their own classroom, a room with a lovely view over the sea. It was a big room, with the mistress’s desk at one end, and cupboards at the other. Desks and chairs were arranged in orderly rows.

“Bags I one by the window!” said a fat girl and plumped herself down there.

“Bags I one too,” said Gwendoline. But the fat girl stared in surprise.

“You’re new aren’t you? Well, you can’t choose your own seat, then. New girls have to take the desks left over when the old girls have chosen the ones they want.”

Gwendoline went red. She tossed her golden hair back over her shoulders and looked sulky.

She stood close by the desk she had chosen, not quite daring to take it, but too obstinate to leave it. A small wiry girl pushed her away.

“Bags I this desk! Hallo, Rita! Did you have nice hols.? Awful to be back with old Potty, isn’t it?”

Darrell stood and waited till she saw that all the girls except herself, Sally and Gwendoline and one or two others, had desks. Then she slipped into one beside Alicia, glad of her good luck. Alicia was exchanging news with a girl on the other side of her. She seemed to be very friendly indeed with her.

She turned to Darrell. “Darrell, this is my friend, Betty Hill. We always sit next to each other. But Betty is in West House, worse luck.”

Darrell smiled at Betty, who was a lively-looking girl, with wicked brown eyes and hair that fell over her forehead. She liked Betty but she was sorry to hear that Alicia had a friend already. She had rather hoped that Alicia would be her friend. She didn’t particularly want either Sally or Gwendoline.

“Sh!” said the girl at the door. “Here comes Potty!”

There was silence at once. The girls stood up, and looked straight before them as they heard the quick, light steps of their form-mistress coming down the corridor outside. She swept into the room, nodded to the girls and said, “You can sit!”

They sat down and waited in silence. Miss Potts took out her list of names and checked them all, tracking down a few more new girls in the other houses. Then she turned to the expectant faces before her.

“Well!” she said, “the summer term is always the best of the lot, with swimming and tennis, picnics and rambles. But please don’t make the mistake of thinking that the summer term is nothing but a picnic. It isn’t. It’s good hard work too. Some of you are taking exams. next term. Well, work hard this term, and you’ll find the exams. easy next term. But slack this term, and I promise you I shall hear some groans and grumbles next term!”

She paused. Then she looked hard at two or three girls. “Last term there were one or two girls who seemed to like to be bottom every week,” she said. “Leave that place to the new girls, please, and go up a few places! I never expect much of new girls their first term—but I shall expect quite a lot of you.”

A few girls went red. Miss Potts went on talking. “I don’t really think I’ve any brainless girls this term,” she said, “though I don’t know much about the new girls, of course. If you are brainless and near the bottom, we shan’t blame you, of course—but if you’ve got good brains and are down at the bottom, I shall have a lot to say. And you know what that means, don’t you?”

“Yes,” answered most of the girls, fervently. Miss Potts smiled, and her keen face lit up for a moment. “Well, now, after all those threats, let’s get on. Here’s a list of things each girl must have. If anyone lacks any of them, she must go to Katherine, head-girl of the form, and get them from her at the end of the lesson. I will give ten minutes for that.”

Soon a lesson was in full swing. It was maths., and Miss Potts was giving a quick test-paper to see what standard the new girls were up to, and whether the whole form could work together or not. Darrell found the paper quite easy, but Gwendoline groaned and grunted terribly, her golden hair all over the desk.

“What’s the matter, Gwendoline?” inquired Miss Potts, unsympathetically.

“Well, my governess, Miss Winter, never showed me how to do sums like this,” wailed Gwendoline. “She put them down quite differently.”

“You’ll have to learn my way now,” said Miss Potts. “And Gwendoline—why haven’t you done your hair this morning?”

“I did,” said Gwendoline, raising her big pale blue eyes. “I brushed it well. I gave it forty ...”

“All right, I don’t want details,” said Miss Potts. “You can’t come to class with it like that. Plait it after Break.”

“Plait it!” mourned poor Gwendoline, whilst the rest of the class began to giggle. “But I’ve never ...”

“That’s enough,” said Miss Potts. “If you can’t plait it and keep it tidy, perhaps your mother could have it cut short next holidays.”

Gwendoline looked so horrified that it was all Darrell could do to keep from laughing out loud.

“I told you so!” whispered Alicia, as soon as Miss Potts turned to write something on the blackboard. Gwendoline glared angrily at her and made a face. As if Mother would dream of cutting off her beautiful fine sheet of hair. And now to think she’d got to plait it. Why, she didn’t even know how to plait! Gwendoline was so lost in sulky thought that she hardly answered any of the maths. questions.

The morning went on. Break came and the girls rushed out to play where they liked. Some went for a quick game on one of the many tennis-courts. Some went for a ramble in the grounds. Others lay about in the Court, talking. Darrell would have liked to go with Alicia, but she was with Betty, and Darrell felt sure they wouldn’t want a third person. She looked at the other new girls. Two of them, whom she didn’t know, had made friends already. Another girl, who had a cousin in the same form, went off with her. Gwendoline was not to be seen. Perhaps she had gone to plait her hair!

Sally Hope was sitting on the grass alone, no expression at all on her closed-up face. Darrell went over to her. “What do you think of Malory Towers?” she said. “I think it’s fine.”

Sally looked up primly. “It’s not bad,” she said.

“Were you sorry to leave your other school?” asked Darrell. “I wanted to come to Malory, of course, but I hated leaving all my friends. Didn’t you hate leaving all your friends too?”

“I don’t think I had any, really,” said Sally, considering. Darrell thought that was queer. It was hard to get anything out of Sally. She was polite and answered questions, but she didn’t ask any in return.

“Well, I hope I don’t have to make her my friend!” thought Darrell, at last. “Gracious, here’s Gwendoline! Does she think she’s plaited her hair? It’s all undone already!”

“Is my hair all right?” said Gwendoline, in a plaintive voice. “I’ve tried and tried to plait it. It was beastly of Miss Potts not to let me wear it as I’ve always worn it. I don’t like her.”

“Let me plait it for you,” said Darrell, jumping up. “It doesn’t look to me as if you know how to plait, Gwendoline!”

She plaited the golden hair deftly and quickly into long braids and tied the ends with bits of narrow ribbon.

“There!” she said, swinging Gwendoline round to look at her. “You look much nicer!”

Gwendoline scowled, and forgot to thank Darrell for her help. Actually, she did look much nicer now. “How spoilt she is!” thought Darrell. “Well, little as I want Sally for a friend, I want Gwendoline even less. I should want to slap her for all her silly airs and graces!”

The bell went, and scores of girls raced in to their classrooms. Darrell raced too. She knew where her classroom was. She knew the names of a lot of her form. She would soon be quite at home at Malory Towers!