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OFF TO WHYTELEAFE SCHOOL AGAIN

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Arabella and Elizabeth did not mix well at all. There was nothing that Elizabeth liked about Arabella, and it seemed that Elizabeth was everything that Arabella most despised and hated.

Unfortunately Mother liked Arabella—and certainly the little girl had most beautiful manners. She always stood up when Mrs. Allen came into the room, she opened and shut the door for her, and fetched and carried for her in a very kind and polite manner.

The politer Arabella was, the noisier Elizabeth became. And then Mrs. Allen began to say things that made Elizabeth cross.

“If only you had as nice manners as Arabella, dear! I do wish you would come into a room more quietly! And I wish you would wait till I have finished speaking before you interrupt....”

All this made Elizabeth rather sulky. Arabella saw it, and in her smooth, polite way, she enjoyed making the differences between her and Elizabeth show up very clearly.

A week went by. Everyone in the house by this time liked Arabella, even Mrs. Jenks, the rather fierce cook.

“She only likes you because you suck up to her,” said Elizabeth, when Arabella came up from the kitchen to say that Mrs. Jenks was making her very favourite cake for her that afternoon.

“I don’t suck up to her,” said Arabella in her usual polite tones. “And I do wish, Elizabeth, that you wouldn’t use such unladylike words. Suck up! I think it’s a very ugly saying.”

“Oh, shut up,” said Elizabeth rudely.

Arabella sighed. “I wish I wasn’t going to Whyteleafe. If you’re the sort of girl they have there, I’m not going to like it at all.”

Elizabeth sat up. “Look here, Arabella,” she said. “I’m just going to tell you a bit about my school, then you’ll know exactly what you’re in for. You won’t like it—and the school won’t like you. So it’s only fair to prepare you a bit, so that you don’t feel too awful when you get there.”

“All right. Tell me,” said Arabella, looking rather scared.

“Well, what I’m going to tell you would please most children,” said Elizabeth. “It’s all so sensible and fair and kind. But I dare say a Miss High-and-Mighty like you will think it’s all dreadful.”

“Don’t call me that,” said Arabella crossly.

“Well, listen! At Whyteleafe we have a head-boy and a head-girl. They are called William and Rita, and they are fine,” said Elizabeth. “Then there are twelve monitors.”

“Whatever are they?” asked Arabella, wrinkling up her nose as if monitors had a nasty smell.

“They are boys and girls chosen by the whole school as leaders,” said Elizabeth. “They are chosen because we trust them, and know them to be kind and just and wise. They see that we keep the rules, they keep the rules themselves, and they help Rita and William to decide what punishments and rewards the children must have at each Weekly Meeting.”

“What’s the Weekly Meeting?” asked Arabella, her blue eyes round with surprise.

“It’s a kind of School Parliament,” said Elizabeth, enjoying telling Arabella all these things. “At each meeting we put into the money-box any money we have had that week—that’s the rule....”

“What! Put our own money into a school money-box!” said Arabella, in horror. “I have a lot of money. I shan’t do that! What a mad idea.”

“It seems mad at first if you’re not used to it,” said Elizabeth, remembering how she had hated the idea two terms ago. “But actually it’s a very good idea. You see, Arabella, it doesn’t do for one or two of us to have pounds and pounds to spend at school—and the rest of us only a few shillings. That’s not fair.”

“I think it’s quite fair,” said Arabella, knowing that she would be one of the few very rich ones.

“Well, it isn’t,” said Elizabeth. “What we do is—we all put our money in, and then we are each given two shillings out of the box, to spend as we like. So we all have the same.”

“Only two shillings!” said Arabella, looking quite horrified.

“Well, if you badly want some more, you have to tell the head-boy and girl, and they will decide whether you can have it or not,” said Elizabeth.

“What else do you do at the Meeting?” asked Arabella. “I think it all sounds dreadful. Don’t the headmistresses have a say in anything?”

“Only if we ask them,” said Elizabeth. “You see, they like us to make our own rules, plan our own punishments, and give our own rewards. For instance, Arabella, suppose you were too high-and-mighty for anything, well, we would try to cure you by——”

“You won’t try to cure me of anything,” said Arabella in a very stiff tone. “You’re the one that ought to be cured of a lot of things. I wonder the monitors haven’t tried to cure you before now. Perhaps they will this term.”

“I’ve been chosen to be a monitor,” said Elizabeth proudly. “I shall be one of the twelve jurymen, sitting up on the platform. If a complaint is made about you by anyone, I shall have power to judge it and say what ought to be done with you.”

Arabella went very red. “The very idea of a tomboy like you judging me!” she said. “You don’t know how to walk properly, you don’t know your manners, and you laugh much too loudly.”

“Oh, be quiet,” said Elizabeth. “I’m not prim and proper like you. I don’t suck up to every grown-up I meet. I don’t pretend, and put on airs and graces and try to look like a silly, beautifully dressed doll who says ‘Ma-ma’ when you pull a string!”

“Elizabeth Allen, if I were like you, I’d throw something at your head for saying that!” said Arabella, standing up in a rage.

“Well, throw it, then,” said Elizabeth. “Anything would be better than being such a good-little-girl, Mummy’s-precious-darling!”

Arabella went out of the room, and so far forgot her manners as to slam the door, a thing she had never done in her life before. Elizabeth grinned. Then she looked thoughtful.

“Now,” she said to herself, “you be careful, Elizabeth Allen. You’re very good at making enemies, but you know quite well that leads to nothing but rows and unhappiness. Arabella’s an idiot—a conceited, silly, empty-headed doll—you let Whyteleafe deal with her, and don’t try to cure her all at once by yourself. Try to be friends and help her.”

So Elizabeth tried to forget how much she disliked vain little Arabella and her doll-like clothes and manners, and treated her in as friendly a manner as she could. But she was very glad indeed when the day came for her to return to school. It was dreadful to have no other companion but Arabella. At Whyteleafe she would have dozens of others round her, all talking and laughing. She need never speak to Arabella unless she wanted to.

“She’s older than I am, and perhaps she will be in a higher form,” she thought, as she put on her school uniform with delight. It was a nice uniform. The coat was dark blue with a yellow edge to the collar and cuffs. The hat was also dark blue, and had a yellow band. On her legs Elizabeth wore long brown stockings, and brown lace shoes on her feet.

“How I hate these dark school clothes,” said Arabella in disgust. “What a dreadful uniform! Now at Grey Towers, the school I wanted to go to, the girls are allowed to wear anything that suits them.”

“How silly,” said Elizabeth. She looked at Arabella. The girl seemed different now that she was in the ordinary school uniform, and not in her expensive, well-cut clothes. She looked more like a schoolgirl and less like a pink-faced doll.

“I like you better in your uniform,” said Elizabeth. “You look more real, somehow.”

“Elizabeth, you do say extraordinary things,” said Arabella in surprise. “I’m as real as you are.”

“I don’t think you are,” said Elizabeth, looking hard at Arabella. “You’re all hidden away behind airs and graces, and good manners and sweet speeches, and I don’t know if there is a real You at all!”

“I think you’re silly,” said Arabella.

“Girls! Are you ready!” called Mrs. Allen. “The car is at the door.”

They went downstairs, carrying their small night-bags. Each girl had to take a small bag with the things in it that she would need for the first night, such as a nightdress, tooth-brush and so on, for their big trunks were not unpacked till the next day.

They carried lacrosse and hockey-sticks, though Arabella had said she hoped she wouldn’t have to play either game. She hated games.

They caught the train up to London, and at the big station there they met the girls and boys returning to their school. Miss Ranger, Elizabeth’s form-mistress, was there, and she welcomed Elizabeth.

“This is Arabella Buckley,” said Elizabeth. All the boys and girls round turned to look at Arabella. How new and spick and span she looked! Not a hair out of place, no wrinkles in her brown stockings, no smut on her cheek!

“Hallo, Elizabeth!” cried Joan, and put her arm through her friend’s.

“Hallo, Elizabeth! Hallo, Elizabeth!”


One by one Elizabeth’s friends came up, smiling, delighted to see her.

One by one all her friends came up, smiling, delighted to see the girl who had once been the naughtiest in the school. Harry clapped her on the back and so did Robert. John asked her if she had done any gardening. Kathleen came up, rosy-cheeked and dimpled. Richard waved to her as he carried a violin-case to the train.

“Oh, it’s lovely to be back with them all again,” thought Elizabeth. “And this term—this term I’m to be a monitor! And won’t I be a success! I’ll make that stuck-up Arabella look up to me all right!”

“Get in the train quickly!” called Miss Ranger. “Say good-bye, and get in.”

The guard blew his whistle. The train puffed out. They were off to Whyteleafe once more.

The Naughtiest Girl is a Monitor

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