Читать книгу Claudine at St. Clare's - Enid blyton - Страница 3

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Pat and Isabel O’Sullivan walked into the fourth form-room at St. Clare’s, and looked round.

“Fourth form,” said Pat. “Golly, we’re getting on, aren’t we, Isabel!”

“Yes—fourth form seems a long way from the first form,” said Isabel. “I say—do you remember when we were in the first form—ages ago? We were called the Stuck-up Twins then, because we hated St. Clare’s, and didn’t want to belong to it.”

The twins thought back to the days when they had been first-formers. They remembered how they had settled down at St. Clare’s, their first dislike of it turning to pride and admiration, and now here they were, fourth-formers at the beginning of the summer term!

“Don’t the first-formers seem babies now?” said Pat. “We thought we were quite big when we first came, but when I see the first-formers now they seem very young to me! I shall enjoy being in the fourth form, won’t you, Isabel?”

“I shall,” said Isabel. “I hope we shall stay on at St. Clare’s until we are in the top form—and I hope our friends do too.”

“Well, some of them have left already,” said Pat. “Pam isn’t coming back, nor is Sheila. Lucy Oriell has gone too—to an Art School. She was going to stay on here, but she’s too brilliant at her art, and she’s won a scholarship to the best art school in the country.”

“Good for Lucy!” said Isabel. “We shall miss her though. I wonder if there are any new girls this term?”

“Sure to be,” said Pat. She looked round the big form-room. “I say, this is a fine room, isn’t it?—the nicest classroom we’ve had so far. There’s a wonderful view out of the window.”

So there was. The twins could see miles of beautiful country. It was country they knew well now, and loved very much. Down below, in the school grounds, were the tennis-courts, the games fields, and the big swimming-pool. The girls could see the school gardens too, and the big kitchen garden full of fresh vegetables.

“Bags I sit by the window,” said Pat. “Hallo, there’s Bobby, and Janet!”

Roberta and Janet walked into the classroom, grinning. Bobby’s freckled face had a very boyish look, and she was very like a boy in her ways, full of fun and tricks.

“Hallo!” she said. “Come to look at our new home? Nice room, isn’t it?”

“What’s our new form-mistress like?” said Pat. “Miss Ellis—she’s supposed to be quite nice, isn’t she?”

“Oh yes—very calm and unruffled and dignified,” said Bobby. “She’ll be all right.”

“Got any new tricks to play, Janet?” asked Isabel. Janet always had a stock of tricks each term, most of them from her school-boy brother, who seemed to be a real scamp. Janet grinned.

“Wait and see,” she said. “Anyway, I suppose I’d better go carefully now I’m a fourth-former. Can’t rag about so much when you get high up the school. And I’m going to work for my matric. exam. too, so I guess I won’t have much time for tricks.”

“I guess you will, all the same,” said Pat. “Any new girls, do you know?”

“Two or three,” said Bobby. “Hallo, Hilary! Had good hols.?”

Hilary Wentworth came into the room, dark and smiling. She had been at St. Clare’s even longer than the twins.

“Hallo!” she said. “Yes, I had fine hols. I rode every day, and I played tennis on our hard court every day too. I say, who’s the angel?”

“What do you mean?” asked the twins and Bobby.

“Oh, haven’t you seen her?” said Hilary. “She’s just arrived, complete with posh new trunk, three tennis rackets, and a handbag, with gold initials on. What do you bet your Cousin Alison will think she’s one of the world’s seven wonders? She’s got pale golden hair, bobbed like angels in pictures, and a pointed face like a pixie, and a voice like a princess.”

“Golly! Where is she?” said the others, with interest. “Will she be in our form?”

“She’s down in the hall,” said Hilary. “She arrived in the biggest car I’ve ever seen, with a crest on the panels, and two chauffeurs.”

“Let’s go and see her,” said Pat. So the five of them went into the corridor, and hung over the stair banisters to see the newcomer.

She was still there—and it was quite true, she did look a bit like an angel, if an angel could be imagined dressed in school uniform, carrying three beautiful tennis rackets!

“She’s lovely, isn’t she?” said Bobby, who not being at all lovely herself, always admired beauty in others. “Yes—I bet Alison will follow her round like a dog. Alison isn’t happy unless she’s thinking some one is just too wonderful for words!”

Alison came up at that moment. She was the twins’ cousin, a pretty, feather-headed little thing, with not many brains. “Hallo!” she said. “Did I hear you talking about me?”

“Yes,” said Hilary. “We were just saying that you’d be sure to like that school-girl angel down there. Did you ever see anything like her?”

Alison leaned over the banisters—and, just as the others had guessed, she immediately lost her heart to the new girl.

“She looks like a princess from a fairy-tale,” said Alison. “I’ll go down and ask her if she wants to be shown round a bit.”

Alison sped downstairs. The others grinned at one another. “Alison has lost her heart already,” said Pat. “Poor old Alison—the wonderful friends she’s made and lost! Do you remember Sadie, the American girl, and how Alison was for ever saying, ‘Well, Sadie says so and so’, and we made a song about it and sang it? Wasn’t Alison cross?”

“Yes, and when she was in the second form she thought the drama mistress was simply wonderful, and when she was in the third form she lost her heart to the head-girl and made herself a perfect nuisance to her,” said Janet. “Really, the times Alison has lost her heart to people, and they never think anything of her for it.”

“Funny old feather-head,” said Pat. “Look at her taking the angel’s arm and going off with her, all over her already!”

“There’s another new girl down there too,” said Bobby. “She looks rather forlorn. Well, I do think Alison might take her round as well. Hie, Alison!”

But Alison had disappeared with the golden-haired angel. The twins went down the stairs and spoke to the other new girl.

“Hallo! You’re new, aren’t you? You’d better come and see Matron. We’ll take you.”

“What’s your name?” said Pat, looking at the new girl, who was trying not to show that she felt new and lost.

“Pauline Bingham-Jones,” said the new girl in rather an affected voice. “Yes, I’d be glad if you’d tell me what to do.”

“Well, Matron is usually here to see to all the new girls,” said Hilary, a little puzzled. “I wonder where she is?”

“I haven’t seen her at all,” said Pat. “She wasn’t here when we came, either.”

“Funny,” said Isabel. “Let’s go to her room and find her. We’ve got to see her, anyway.”

They went to Matron’s room, taking Pauline with them. They banged on the door. They liked Matron, though they were very much in awe of her. She had been at St. Clare’s for years and years, and some of the girls’ mothers, who had also been at St. Clare’s, had known her too.

A voice called out. “Come in!”

“That’s not Matron’s voice,” said Pat, puzzled. She opened the door and went in, the others following. A woman in Matron’s uniform sat sewing by the window. It wasn’t the Matron they knew so well. The girls stared at her in surprise.

“Oh,” said Pat. “We were looking for Matron.”

“I am Matron this term,” said the new Matron. “Your old Matron fell ill during the holidays, so I have come to take her place. I am sure we shall all get on very well together.”

The girls stared at her. They didn’t feel so sure about that. Their old Matron was fat and round and jolly, with a strong and comforting kind of face. This Matron was thin and sour-looking. She had very thin lips that met together in a straight line. She smiled at the girls, but her smile stayed at her mouth and did not reach her eyes.

“We came to find you,” said Bobby. “Usually Matron meets the new girls. This is one of them. She has to give you her list of clothes and towels and things.”

“I know that, thank you,” said Matron, biting off the thread she was using. “Send all the new girls to me, will you? How many have arrived?”

The girls didn’t know. They thought it was Matron’s business to find out, not theirs. They thought of their old Matron, bustling about looking after the newcomers, making them welcome, taking them to their form-mistresses, or finding girls to take care of them.

“Well—this is Pauline Bingham-Jones,” said Pat, at last. “There’s another new girl somewhere. We saw her. Our Cousin Alison seems to be looking after her.”

The girls disappeared from the room, leaving Pauline to the new Matron. They looked at one another and screwed up their noses. “Don’t like her,” said Isabel. “Looks like a bottle of vinegar!”

The others laughed. “I hope our old Matron will come back,” said Bobby. “St. Clare’s will seem funny without her. I wonder where Alison has gone with the angel.”

Alison appeared at that moment, looking flushed and radiant. It was quite plain that she had made a friend already. With her was the “angel”.

“Oh,” said Alison, “Pat, Isabel, Bobby, Hilary—this is the Honourable Angela Favorleigh.”

The Honourable Angela bent her head a little as if she was bowing to her subjects. Bobby grinned.

“I had a doll called Angela once,” she said. “She was a bit like you! Well—I hope you’ll like St. Clare’s. Alison, take her to Matron.”

“Where is Matron?” said Alison. “I’ve been looking for her.”

“There’s a new Matron this term,” said Bobby. “You won’t like her.”

The Honourable Angela Favorleigh didn’t like Bobby. She gazed at her as if she was something that smelt rather nasty. She turned to Alison and spoke in a pretty, high little voice.

“Well—let’s go to Matron. I want to take my things off.”

They went off together. Hilary laughed. “Well, we shall all know where Alison will be most of this term,” she said, “In the Honourable’s pocket!”