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Off to School Again

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The last week of the summer holidays flew by, and the twins, Pat and Isabel O’Sullivan, seemed to be in a rush of buying clothes, fitting them on, looking out lacrosse sticks, finding lacrosse boots, and hunting for all kinds of things that seemed to have completely disappeared.

“Where is my knitting-bag?” said Pat, turning a whole drawer-full of things upside down. “I know I brought it home at the end of last term.”

“I can only find one of my lacrosse boots,” wailed Isabel. “Mummy, have you seen the other?”

“Yes, it came back from the bootmaker’s yesterday,” said Mrs. O’Sullivan. “Where did you put it?”

“Packing to go to school is always much more muddling than packing to come back home,” said Pat. “I say, Isabel—won’t it be fun to be in the second form this term?”

“Who is your form-teacher there?” asked their mother, unpacking half Pat’s things and packing them all over again.

“Miss Jenks,” said Pat. “I’ll be sorry to leave Miss Roberts and the first form, in some ways. We did have fun there.”

“I bet we’ll have some fun in Miss Jenks’s class too,” said Isabel. “I don’t think she’s quite so strict as Miss Roberts.”

“Don’t you believe it!” said Isabel, trying to cram a tin of toffees into a corner. “She may not have Miss Roberts’s sarcastic tongue—but she’s all there! Don’t you remember how she used to deal with Tessie when Tessie used to try on her pretend-sneezes?”

“Yes—sent her to Matron for a large dose of awful medicine, supposed to stop a cold!” giggled Pat. “All the same, I bet we’ll get away with quite a lot of things in Miss Jenks’s form.”

“I hope you mean to work,” said Mrs. O’Sullivan, putting in the top tray of Isabel’s trunk. “I was quite pleased with last term’s report. Don’t let me have a bad one as soon as you go up into another form, will you?”

“We’ll work all right, Mummy,” said Pat. “I can tell you, the teachers at St. Clare’s aren’t easy-going where work is concerned. They keep our noses to the grindstone! Mam’zelle’s the worst. She really seems to think we ought to learn to talk French better than we speak English!”

“No wonder your French accent is so much improved, then,” said Mrs. O’Sullivan, with a laugh. “Now Pat—let me see if I can possibly shut your trunk. You’d better sit on it whilst I try to shut the clasps.”

The trunk wouldn’t shut. Mrs. O’Sullivan opened it again and looked inside. “You can’t take all those books,” she said, firmly.

“Mummy, I must,” said Pat. “And I simply must take those games too—we love jigsaws in the winter term.”

“Well, Pat, all I can say is, you’d better take books, games, toffees, biscuits and knitting things, and leave behind your clothes,” said the twins’ mother. “Now—be sensible—take out three books and we can shut the trunk.”

Pat took out three books, and, when Mrs. O’Sullivan was not looking, put them hurriedly into Isabel’s trunk. Her own trunk now shut down fairly easily, and was locked. Then Mrs. O’Sullivan went to Isabel’s.

“This won’t shut, either,” she said. “Gracious, the things you girls take back with you to boarding-school nowadays! When I ...”

“When you were a girl you only took a small case, and that held everything!” chanted the twins, who had heard these remarks before. “Mummy, we’ll both sit on Isabel’s trunk, shall we?”

Mrs. O’Sullivan opened the trunk and firmly removed three books from the top layer. She looked at them in surprise. “I seem to have seen these before!” she said. The twins giggled. They sat on the trunk and it shut with a groan.

“And now to pack your hand-bag with night-things in,” said Mrs. O’Sullivan, looking at the school-list to make sure nothing had been forgotten. “That won’t take long.”

Night-gowns, tooth-brushes, face-flannels and sponges went into small bags. Then the twins were ready. They were both dressed neatly in their school winter uniforms of grey, with blue blouses and scarlet ties. They put on grey coats and grey felt hats with the school ribbon round, and looked at each other.

“Two good little St. Clare girls,” said Pat, looking demure.

“Not so very good,” said her mother, with a smile. “Now—there is the car at the door, ready to take us to the station. Have we really got everything? You must write and tell me if you want anything else.”

“Oh, we’re sure to want lots of things!” said Pat. “You’re a darling, the way you send us things. It’s fun to be going back to St. Clare’s. I’m awfully glad you sent us there, Mummy.”

“And how you hated going at first!” said Mrs. O’Sullivan, remembering the fuss the twins had made, because they had wanted to go to another, much more expensive school.

“Yes—we made up our minds to be so awful that the school wouldn’t keep us,” said Pat. “And we were awful too—but we couldn’t keep it up. St. Clare’s was too much for us—we just had to be decent in the end!”

“Do come on,” said Isabel. “We shall miss the train! I’m going to meet all the girls in London, and see them again, aren’t you, Pat? I do like the journey down to St. Clare’s.”

They were off at last. They had to travel to London, and go to the station where the St. Clare train started. The whole train was reserved for the St. Clare girls, for it was a big school.

There was a terrific noise on the platform, where scores of girls were waiting for the train. Their mothers were there to bid them good-bye, and teachers moved about, trying to collect the girls together. Porters shoved luggage into the van, and every one was excited.

“Bobby! Oh, there’s Bobby!” yelled Pat, as soon as they arrived on the crowded platform. “And Janet too. Hie, Bobby, hie, Janet!”

“Hallo, twins!” cried Bobby. Her merry eyes crinkled up as she smiled.

“It’s good to see your turn-up nose again,” said Pat, slipping her arm through Bobby’s. “Hallo, Janet! Got any more tricks from that brother of yours?”

“Wait and see,” grinned Janet. A mistress came up at that moment and overheard the remarks.

“Ah—did I hear the word tricks, Janet?” she said. “Well, just remember you’re in my form this term, and there are really Terrible Punishments for tricks like yours!”

“Yes, Miss Jenks,” grinned Janet. “I’ll remember. Are all the others here yet?”

“All but Doris,” said Miss Jenks. “Ah, there she is. Now we must get into the train. The guard is looking rather worried, I see.”

“Carlotta! Get into our carriage!” yelled Bobby, seeing the dark-eyed, dark-haired girl running down the platform. “What sort of hols. did you have? Did you go back to the circus?”

Carlotta was a source of great attraction and admiration to the girls, for she had once been a circus-girl, and her understanding and handling of horses was marvellous. Now she had to settle down at St. Clare’s, and learn many things she had never heard of. She had found her first term difficult, but at the end of it she was firm friends with most of her form, and the mistresses were pleased with her. She ran up to the twins and Bobby, her vivid little face glowing with pleasure.

“Hallo!” she said. “I’ll get into your carriage. Oh, look—there’s your cousin Alison. She looks rather miserable.”

“I feel miserable,” said Alison O’Sullivan, coming up, looking very woe-begone. “I shall miss my friend Sadie dreadfully this term.”

Sadie had been an American girl with no ideas in her head at all beyond clothes and the cinema. She had had a very bad influence on Alison, but, as she was not coming back that term, it was to be hoped that the feather-headed Alison would pull herself together a little, and try to do better. She was a pretty little thing who easily burst into tears. Her cousins welcomed her warmly.

“Hallo, Alison! Don’t fret about Sadie. You’ll soon find other friends.”

They all got into the carriage. Doris arrived, panting. Hilary Wentworth, who had been head of the first form, flung herself down in a corner seat. She was very much wondering if she would be head of the second form. She was a trustworthy and responsible girl who liked being head.

“Hallo, everybody,” she said. “Nice to see you all again. Well, Carlotta—been riding in the Ring, I suppose! Lucky kid!”

“You know I don’t belong to a circus any more,” said Carlotta. “I went to spend my holidays with my father and my grandmother. My father seems to like me quite a lot—but my grandmother found a lot of fault with my manners. She says I must pay more attention to them this term even than to my lessons! You must all help me!”

“Oh, no!” said Pat, with a laugh. “We don’t want you any different from what you are, my dear, hot-tempered, entirely natural, perfectly honest little Carlotta! We get more fun out of you than out of anyone. We don’t want you changed one little bit! Any more than we want Bobby changed. We shall expect some marvellous tricks from you this term, Bobby.”

“Right,” said Bobby. “But I tell you here and now, I’m going to work too!”

“Miss Jenks will see to that,” said Hilary. “Remember we shall no longer be in the bottom form. We’ve got to work for exams. and pass them!”

“We’re off!” said Pat, leaning out of the window. “Good-bye, Mummy! We’ll write on Sunday!”

The train steamed slowly out of the station. The girls drew in their heads. All the carriages were full of chatterers, talking about the wonderful hols. they had had, the places they had been to, and what sort of term it would be.

“Any new girls?” said Isabel. “I haven’t seen one.”

“I think there’s only one,” said Bobby. “We saw a miserable-looking creature standing a little way up the platform—I don’t know whether she’ll be second form or first form. Not second, I hope—she looked such a misery!”

“Alison’s doing her hair again already,” said Pat. “Alison! Put your comb away. Girls, I think we’ll have to make it a rule that Alison doesn’t do her hair more than fifty times a day!”

Every one laughed. It was good to be back, good to be all together once more. The winter term was going to be fun!

The Second Form at St. Clare's

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