Читать книгу The Naughtiest Girl in the School - Enid blyton - Страница 7

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Elizabeth pushed open the door and went into the big drawing-room. It was a lovely room, with a few beautiful pictures on the walls, and glowing cushions on the chairs and the couches. The two mistresses were sitting on chairs near the window. They looked up as Elizabeth came in.

“Well, Elizabeth! We are very glad to see you at Whyteleafe School,” said Miss Belle. She was young and pretty, but Miss Best was older, and, except when she smiled, she had rather a stern face.

“Sit down, Elizabeth,” said Miss Best, smiling her lovely smile. “I hope you have made a few friends already.”

“No, I haven’t,” said Elizabeth. She sat down on a chair. Miss Best looked at her in surprise, when she answered so shortly.

“Well, I expect you will soon make plenty,” said the headmistress. “I hope you will be very happy with us, Elizabeth.”

“I shan’t be,” said Elizabeth in a rude voice.

“What a funny little girl!” said Miss Belle, and she laughed. “Cheer up, dear—you’ll soon find things are very jolly here, and I am sure you will do your best to work hard, and make us proud of you.”

“I’m not going to,” said Elizabeth, going red. “I’m going to be as bad and naughty and horrid as I can possibly be, so there! I don’t want to go to school. I hate Whyteleafe School! I’ll be so bad that you’ll send me home next week!”

The mistresses both threw back their heads and laughed and laughed.

The little girl glared at the two mistresses as she said all this, expecting them to jump up in anger. Instead they both threw back their heads and laughed and laughed!

“Oh, Elizabeth, what an extraordinary child you are!” said Miss Belle, wiping away the tears of laughter that had come into her eyes. “You look such a good, pretty little girl too—no one would think you wanted to be so bad and naughty and horrid!”

“I don’t care how you punish me,” said Elizabeth, tears coming into her own eyes—but tears of anger, not of laughter. “You can do all you like—I just shan’t care!”

“We never punish anyone, Elizabeth,” said Miss Best, suddenly looking stern again. “Didn’t you know that?”

“No, I didn’t,” said Elizabeth in astonishment. “What do you do when people are naughty, then?”

“Oh, we leave any naughty person to the rest of the children to deal with,” said Miss Best. “Every week the school holds a meeting, you know, and the children themselves decide what is to be done with boys and girls who don’t behave themselves. It won’t bother us if you are naughty—but you may perhaps find that you make the children angry.”

“That seems funny to me,” said Elizabeth. “I thought it was always the teachers that did the punishing.”

“Not at Whyteleafe School,” said Miss Belle. “Well, Elizabeth, my dear, perhaps you’d go now and tell the next child to come in, will you? Maybe one day Whyteleafe School will be proud of you, even though you are quite sure it won’t!”

Elizabeth went out without another word. She couldn’t help liking the two headmistresses, though she didn’t want to at all. She wished she had been ruder to them. What a funny school this was!

She spoke to Helen outside the door. “You’re to go in now,” she said. “The Beauty and the Beast are waiting for you!”

“Oh, you naughty girl!” said Helen, with a giggle. “Miss Belle and Miss Best—the Beauty and the Beast! That’s rather clever of you to think of that, Elizabeth!”

Elizabeth had meant it to be very rude. She did not know enough of other children to know that they always loved nicknames for their masters and mistresses. She was surprised that Helen thought her clever—and secretly she was pleased.

But she stuck her nose in the air and marched off. She wasn’t going to be pleased with anything or anybody at Whyteleafe School!

She wandered round by herself until the supper-bell went at seven o’clock. She felt hungry and went into the dining-hall. The children were once more opening their tins of cakes, and a lively chatter was going on. It all looked very jolly.

There were big mugs on the table and big jugs of steaming hot cocoa here and there. There were piles of bread again, butter, cheese, and dishes of stewed fruit. The children sat down and helped themselves.

Nobody took any notice of Elizabeth at all, till suddenly Helen remembered what she had called Miss Belle and Miss Best. With a giggle she repeated it to her neighbour, and soon there was laughter all round the table.

“The Beauty and the Beast,” went the whisper, and chuckles echoed round. Elizabeth heard the whispers and went red. Nora O’Sullivan laughed loudly.

“It’s a jolly good nickname!” she said. “Belle means Beauty, and Best is very like Beast—and certainly Miss Belle is lovely, and Miss Best isn’t! That was pretty smart of you, Elizabeth.”

Elizabeth smiled! She really couldn’t help it. She didn’t want to—she wanted to be as horrid as possible—but it was really very pleasant to have everyone laughing at her joke.

“It’s queer, though,” she thought. “I meant to be horrid and rude, and the others just think it’s funny. I guess Miss Belle and Miss Best wouldn’t think it was funny, though!”

Nobody offered Elizabeth any of their goodies, and she did not like to offer hers, for she felt sure everyone would say no. The meal went on until half-past seven, and then after grace was said the children all got up and went to the playroom.

“When’s your bedtime?” said Nora to Elizabeth. “I expect it’s eight o’clock. You’d better see. The times are on the notice-board over there. My bedtime is at half-past eight, and when I come to bed I expect all the rest of you to be safe in bed.”

“I don’t want to go to bed at eight o’clock,” said Elizabeth indignantly. “I go to bed much later than that at home.”

“Well, you shouldn’t, then,” said Nora. “No wonder you’re such a crosspatch! My mother says that late hours make children stupid, bad-tempered, and slow.”

Elizabeth went to see the times for going to bed. Hers was, as Nora had said, at eight o’clock. Well, she wouldn’t go! She’d be naughty!

So she slipped out into the garden and went to where she had seen two or three big swings. She got on to a swing and began to push herself to and fro. It was lovely there in the evening sunshine. Elizabeth quite forgot that she was at school, and she sang a little song to herself.

A boy came into the place where the swings were, and stared at Elizabeth. “What are you doing here?” he said. “I bet it’s your bedtime!”

“Mind your own business!” said Elizabeth at once.

“Well, what about you going off to bed, and minding yours!” said the boy. “I’m a monitor, and it’s my job to see that people do what they’re told!”

“I don’t know what a monitor is, and I don’t care,” said Elizabeth rudely.

“Well, let me tell you what a monitor is,” said the boy, who was just about Elizabeth’s size. “It’s somebody put in charge of other silly kids at Whyteleafe, to see they don’t get too silly! If you don’t behave yourself I shall have to report you at the Meeting! Then you’ll be punished.”

Elizabeth swung her foot and kicked the boy.

“Pooh!” said Elizabeth, and she swung herself very hard indeed, put out her foot and kicked the boy so vigorously that he fell right over. Elizabeth squealed with laughter—but not for long! The boy jumped up, ran to the swing and shook Elizabeth off. He caught hold of her dark curls and pulled them so hard that the little girl yelled with pain.

The boy grinned at her and said, “Serve you right! You be careful how you treat me next time, or I’ll pull your nose as well as your hair! Now—are you going in or not?”

Elizabeth ran away from him and went indoors. She looked at the clock—quarter-past eight! Perhaps she would have time to go to bed before that horrid Nora came up at half-past.

So she ran up the stairs and went to Bedroom Number 6. Ruth, Joan, Belinda, and Helen were already there half undressed. Their curtains were pulled around their cubicles, but they were talking hard all the same. Elizabeth slipped into her own cubicle.

“You’re late, Elizabeth,” said Ruth. “You’ll get into trouble if you’re caught by a monitor.”

“I have been,” said Elizabeth. “But I didn’t care! I was on the swing and I put out my foot and kicked him over!”

“Well, you’re very silly,” said Ruth. “You will get into trouble at the Meeting if you don’t look out. And that’s not pleasant.”

“I don’t care for any silly Meeting,” said Elizabeth, jumping into bed. She remembered that Nora had put her three photographs into the locked box, and she jumped out again. She went to the box and tried to open it—but it was still locked. Nora came in at that moment and saw Elizabeth there.

“Hallo, kid,” she said. “Do you want your things back? Well, apologise and you can have them.”

But Elizabeth was not going to say she was sorry. She made a rude face at Nora, and flung herself into bed.

“Well, you are a sweet child, aren’t you!” said Nora mockingly. “I hope you get out at the right side of your bed to-morrow!”

Then there was a creak as Nora sat on her bed to take off her stockings. A clock struck half-past eight downstairs. “No more talking now,” said Nora. “Sleep tight, all of you!”