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

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One sunny summer afternoon four girls sat on the grass by a tennis-court, drinking lemonade. Their rackets lay beside them, and the six white balls were scattered over the court.

Two of the girls were twins. Isabel and Patricia O’Sullivan were so alike that only a few people could tell which was Pat and which was Isabel. Both girls had dark brown wavy hair, deep blue eyes and a merry smile, and the Irish lilt in their voices was very pleasant to hear.

The twins were staying for two weeks with friends of theirs, Mary and Frances Waters. The four girls were talking, and Pat was frowning as she spoke. She took up her racket and banged it hard on the grass.

“It’s just too bad that Mummy won’t let us go to the same school as you, now that we have all left Redroofs School together. We’ve been friends so long—and now we’ve got to go to a different school, and we shan’t see each other for ages.”

“It’s a pity that Redroofs only takes girls up to fourteen,” said Isabel. “We could have stayed on together and it would have been fun. I loved being head-girl with Pat the last year—and it was fun being tennis-captain, and Pat being hockey-captain. Now we’ve got to go to another school that doesn’t sound a bit nice—and begin at the bottom! We’ll be the young ones of the school instead of head-girls.”

“I do wish you were coming to Ringmere School with us!” said Frances. “It’s such a nice exclusive school, our mother says. You know—only girls of rich parents, very well-bred, go there, and you make such nice friends. We have a bedroom to ourselves and our own study, and we have to wear evening dress at night, and they say the food is wonderful!”

“And we are going to St. Clare’s, where anybody can go, and the dormitories take six or eight girls and aren’t nearly as nicely furnished as the maids’ bedrooms are at home!” said Pat in a disgusted voice.

“I can’t imagine why Mummy made up her mind to send us there instead of to Ringmere,” said Isabel. “I wonder if she has quite decided. We’re going home tomorrow and we’ll both do our very very best to make her say we can go to Ringmere, Mary and Frances! We’ll ring you up in the evening and tell you.”

“We’ll jump for joy if you have good news,” said Mary. “After all, when you’ve been head-girls at a marvellous school like Redroofs, and had your own lovely bedroom and the best study with the best view, and a hundred girls looking up to you, it’s awful to have to start again in a school you don’t want to go to a bit!”

“Well, do your best to make your parents change their minds,” said Frances. “Come on—let’s have another set before tea!”

They all jumped up and tossed for partners. Isabel was a splendid player, and had won the tennis championship at Redroofs. She was really rather proud of her game. Pat was nearly as good, but much preferred hockey.

“They don’t play hockey at St. Clare’s, they play lacrosse,” said Pat, dismally. “Silly game, lacrosse—playing with nets on sticks, and catching a ball all the time instead of hitting it! That’s another thing I’ll tell Mummy—that I don’t want to play lacrosse after being hockey-captain.”

The twins thought hard of all the reasons they would put before their parents when they got home the next day. They talked about it as they went home in the train.

“I’ll say this, and you say that,” said Pat. “After all, we ought to know the kind of school that would be best for us—and St. Clare’s does sound too fierce for words!”

So the next evening the girls began to air their thoughts about schools. Pat began, and, as was her way, she attacked at once.

“Mummy and Daddy!” she said. “Isabel and I have been thinking a lot about what school we’re to go to next, and, please, we don’t want to go to St. Clare’s. Every one says it’s an awful school.”

Their mother laughed, and their father put down his paper in surprise.

“Don’t be silly, Pat,” said Mrs. O’Sullivan. “It’s a splendid school.”

“Have you quite decided about it?” asked Isabel.

“Not absolutely,” said her mother. “But Daddy and I both think it will be the best school for you now. We do think that Redroofs spoilt you a bit, you know—it’s a very expensive and luxurious school, and nowadays we have to learn to live much more simply. St. Clare’s is really a very sensible sort of school, and I know the Head and like her.”

Pat groaned. “A sensible school! How I do hate sensible things—they’re always horrid and ugly and stupid and uncomfortable! Oh, Mummy—do let us go to Ringmere School with Mary and Frances.”

“Certainly not!” said Mrs. O’Sullivan at once. “It’s a very snobbish school, and I’m not going to have you two girls coming home and turning up your noses at everything and everybody.”

“We wouldn’t,” said Isabel, frowning at Pat to make her stop arguing for a while. Pat lost her temper very easily, and that didn’t do when their father was there. “Mummy dear—be a pet—just let’s try at Ringmere for a term or two, and then, if you think we’re turning into snobs, you can take us away. But you might let us try. They play hockey there, and we do so like that. We’d hate to have to learn a new game, just when we’ve got so good at hockey.”

Mr. O’Sullivan rapped with his pipe on the table. “My dear Isabel, it will be good for you to start at the beginning again, and learn something new! I’ve thought the last year that both you girls have become very conceited, and thought far too much of yourselves. If you have to learn new things, and find you’re not so wonderful as you thought you were, it will be very good for you both!”

The twins went red. They were angry and hurt and almost ready to cry. Mrs. O’Sullivan felt sorry for them.

“Daddy doesn’t mean to be unkind,” she said. “But he is quite right, my dears. You’ve had a wonderful time at Redroofs, had things all your own way, been head-girls and captains, and really lived in luxury. Now you must show us what kind of stuff you are made of when you have to start as youngsters of fourteen and a half in a school where the top classes are eighteen years old!”

Pat looked sulky. Isabel’s chin shook as she answered.

“We shan’t be happy, and we shan’t try to be!” she said.

“Very well. Be unhappy!” said their father, sternly. “If that’s the sort of silly attitude you’ve learnt at Redroofs, I’m sorry we let you stay there so long. I wanted to take you away two years ago, but you begged so hard to stay, that I didn’t. Now say no more about it. I shall write to St. Clare’s myself tonight and enter you for next term. If you want to make me proud of you, you will cheer up and make up your minds to be good and hardworking and happy at your next school.”

Their father lighted his pipe and began to read his paper again. Their mother took up her sewing. There was no more to be said. The twins left the room together and went into the garden. They found their own secret place behind the thick old yew-hedge and flung themselves down on the ground. The evening sun threw its slanting golden rays around them, and they blinked in its brightness. Tears shone in Isabel’s eyes.

“I never thought Mummy and Daddy would be so hard,” she said. “Never!”

“After all, we ought to have some say in the matter,” said Pat, furiously. She took a stick and dug it hard into the ground. “I wish we could run away!”

“Don’t be silly,” said Isabel. “You know we can’t. Anyway, it’s cowardly to run away. We’ll have to go to St Clare’s. But how I shall hate it.”

“We’ll both hate it,” said Pat “And what’s more, I’m jolly well going to turn up my nose at everything there! I’m not going to let them think we’re babies of fourteen, just come from some silly prep school. I’ll soon let them know that we were head-girls, and tennis- and hockey-captains. How horrid Of Daddy to say we are conceited! We’re not a bit. We can’t help knowing that we’re good at nearly everything, besides being pretty and quite amusing.”

“It does sound a bit conceited when you talk like that,” said Isabel. “We’d better not say too much when we get to St. Clare’s.”

“I’m going to say all I like, and you must back me up,” said Pat. “People are going to know who we are, and what we can do! All the mistresses are going to sit up and take notice of us too. The O’Sullivan twins are going to be somebodies! And don’t you forget it, Isabel.”

Isabel nodded her dark head with its black waves of hair. “I won’t forget it,” she said. “I’ll back you up. My word, St. Clare’s will get a few surprises next term!”