Читать книгу Upper Fourth at Malory Towers - Enid blyton - Страница 6

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Going to bed on the first night was always fun, especially in the summer term, because then the windows were wide open, daylight was still bright, and the view was glorious.

It was lovely to be with so many girls again too, to discuss the holidays, and to wonder what the term would bring forth.

“School Cert. to be taken this term,” groaned Daphne. “How simply horrible. I’ve been coached for it all the hols, but I don’t feel I know much even now.”

“Miss Williams will keep our noses to the grindstone this term,” said Alicia, dolefully.

“Well, you don’t need to mind,” said Bill. She had spoken very little so far, and the others had left her alone. They knew she got, not homesick, but “horse-sick” as she called it, the first night or two back at school. She was passionately attached to all the horses owned by her parents and her seven brothers, and missed them terribly at first.

Alicia looked at her. “Why don’t I need to mind?” she said. “I mind just as much as you do!”

“Well, I mean you don’t really need to work, Alicia,” said Bill. “You seem to learn things without bothering. I’ve been coached in the hols, too, and it was an awful nuisance just when I was wanting to ride with my brothers. I jolly well had to work, though. I bet you weren’t coached in the hols.”

“Mavis, are you going in for School Cert.?” asked Darrell. Mavis had been very ill the year before, and had lost her voice. It had been a magnificent voice, but her illness had ruined it. She had always said she was going to be an opera singer, but nobody ever heard her mention it now. In fact, most of the girls had even forgotten that Mavis had had a wonderful voice.

“I’m going in all right,” said Mavis. “But I shan’t get through! I feel like a jelly when I think of it. By the way—did you know my voice is getting right again?”

There was a pause whilst the girls remembered Mavis’s lost voice. “Gosh! Is it really?” said Sally. “Good for you, Mavis! Fancy being able to sing again.”

“I mayn’t sing much,” said Mavis. “But I shall know this term, I expect, if my voice will ever be worth training again.”

“Good luck to you, Mavis,” said Darrell. She remembered that when Mavis had had her wonderful voice they had all thought the girl was a Voice and nothing else at all—just a little nobody without an ounce of character. But now Mavis had plenty of character, and it was quite difficult to remember her Voice.

“I wonder if she’ll go back to being a Voice and nothing else,” thought Darrell. “No—I don’t think she will. She deserves to get her voice back again. She’s never complained about it, or pitied herself.”

“I say!” said Mary-Lou’s voice, “who’s this bed for, at my end of the room? There are nobody’s things here.”

The girls counted themselves and then the beds. “Yes—that bed’s over,” said Darrell. “Well, it wouldn’t have been put up if it hadn’t been going to be used. There must be another new girl coming.”

“We’ll ask tomorrow,” said Alicia, yawning. “How are you getting on, twins? All right?”

The two new girls answered politely. “Fine, thank you.” They had washed, cleaned their teeth, brushed their hair, and were already in bed. Darrell had been amused to see that Connie had looked after Ruth as if she had been a younger sister, turning down her bed for her, and even brushing her hair!

She looked at them as they lay in bed, their faces turned sleepily towards her. Connie’s face was plump and round, and her thick hair was quite straight. She had a bold look about her—“sort of pushful” thought Darrell. The other twin, Ruth, had a small heart-shaped face, and her hair, corn-coloured as Connie’s, was wavy.

“Good night,” said Darrell, and grinned. They grinned back. Darrell thought she was going to like them. She wished they had been absolutely alike though—that would have been fun! But they were really very unalike indeed.

One by one the girls got yawning into bed and snuggled down. Most of them threw their eiderdowns off, because the May night was warm. Gwendoline kept hers on. She always liked heaps of coverings, and nobody had ever persuaded her to go without her quilt in the summer.

Miss Potts looked in. Some of the girls were already asleep. “No more talking,” said Miss Potts, softly. A few grunts were made in reply. Nobody wanted to talk now.

Darrell wondered suddenly if Felicity was all right. She hoped she wasn’t homesick. She wouldn’t have time to be if June was in the next bed, talking away! What an unpleasant child! thought Darrell. And the cheek she had! It was past believing.

When the bell rang for getting up the next morning, there was a chorus of groans and moans. Nobody stirred out of bed.

“Well—we must get up!” said Darrell at last. “Come on, everybody! Gracious, look at Gwendoline—still fast asleep!”

Darrell winked at Sally. Gwendoline was not fast asleep, but she meant to have a few more minutes’ snooze.

“She’ll be late,” said Sally. “Can’t let her get into trouble her very first morning. Better squeeze a cold sponge over her, Darrell!”

“DON’T YOU DARE TO SQUEEZE THAT SPONGE OVER ME!”

This remark, made regularly about twenty times every term, always had the desired effect. Gwendoline opened her eyes indignantly, and sat up. “Don’t you dare to squeeze that sponge over me,” she began angrily. “This beastly getting up early! Why, at home ...”

“Why, at home ‘We don’t get up till eight o’clock,’ ” chanted some of the girls, and laughed. They knew Gwendoline Mary’s complaints by heart now.

“Did your old governess make her darling’s bed for her?” asked Alicia. “Did she tie her bib on her in the morning? Did she feed her sweet Gwendoline Mary out of a silver spoon?”

Gwendoline had had to put up with Alicia’s malicious teasing for many terms now, but she had never got used to it. The easy tears came to her eyes, and she turned her head away.

“Shut up, Alicia,” said Darrell. “Don’t start on her too soon!”

Alicia nudged Sally, and nodded towards the twins. Connie was making Ruth’s bed for her!

“I can do that,” protested Ruth, but Connie pushed her aside. “I’ve time, Ruth. You’re slow at things like this. I always did it for you at our other school, and I can go on doing it here.” She looked round at the others, and saw them watching her.

“Any objection?” she asked, rather belligerently.

“Dear me no,” said Alicia in her smooth voice. “You can do mine for me, as well, if you like! I’m slow at things like that, too!”

Connie didn’t think this remark was worth answering. She went on making Ruth’s bed. Ruth was standing by, looking rather helpless.

“What school did you come from?” asked Darrell, speaking to Ruth. But before the girl could answer, Connie had replied.

“We went to Abbey School, in Yorkshire. It was nice—but not as nice as this one’s going to be!”

That pleased the fourth-formers. “Did you play hockey or lacrosse at your other school?” asked Sally, addressing her question to Ruth.

“Hockey,” said Connie, answering again. “I liked hockey—but I wanted to play lacrosse, too.”

“Will you like lacrosse, do you think?” asked Sally, addressing her question once more to Ruth, wondering if she had a tongue.

And once again Connie answered: “Oh, Ruth always likes what I like! She’ll love lacrosse!”

Sally was just about to ask if Ruth ever said a word for herself, when the breakfast-bell rang. The girls hastily looked round the dormy to see if any clothes had been left about, and Alicia hurriedly pulled her quilt straight. Gwendoline was last as usual, moaning about a lost hair-grip. But then Gwen always had a moan! Nobody took much notice of that!

Darrell looked anxiously for Felicity as the girls filed into the big dining-room, all the North Tower girls together. South Tower girls fed in the South Tower, East in the East and so on. Each tower was like a separate boarding-house, with its own common-rooms, dining-rooms and dormies. The classrooms were in the long buildings that joined tower to tower, and so were such special rooms as the lab., the art-room and the sewing-room. The magnificent gym was there, too.

Felicity came in, looking neat and tidy. Miss Potts, seeing her come in, thought how very like she was to Darrell four years ago, when she also had come timidly into the dining-room for her first breakfast.

In front of Felicity was June, looking as if she was at least a third-termer, instead of a new girl on her first morning. She looked about chirpily, nodded at Alicia, who did her best not to see, grinned at Darrell, who stared stonily back, and spoke amiably to Mam’zelle Dupont, who was at the head of the first-form table. The second form were also there, and Darrell and Alicia had the satisfaction of seeing two second-formers push June roughly back when she attempted to sit somewhere near the head of the table.

But nothing daunted June. She merely sat down somewhere else, and said something to Felicity, who grinned uneasily. “Something cheeky, I bet,” thought Darrell to herself. “Well, her form will put her in her place pretty soon—and she’ll come up against the second form, too. There are some tough kids in the second—they won’t stand much nonsense from a pest like June!”

Felicity smiled at Darrell, who smiled back warmly, forgetting for the moment that Felicity had probably gone to see the swimming-pool before breakfast without her. She hoped her little sister would do well in the class tests that day and prove that she was up to standard.

Sally suddenly remembered the empty bed in her dormy, and she spoke to Miss Potts.

“Miss Potts! There’s an extra bed in our dormy. Do you know whose it is? We’re all back.”

“Oh, yes,” said Miss Potts. “Let me see—there’s one more new girl coming today—what’s her name now—Clarissa something—yes, Clarissa Carter. That reminds me—there’s a letter for her already. Here it is, Sally—put it up on her dressing-table for her, will you?”

Gwendoline took the letter to pass it down the table. She glanced at it, and then looked again. The letter was addressed to “The Honourable Clarissa Carter”.

“The Honourable Clarissa Carter!” thought Gwendoline, delighted. “If only she’d be my friend! I’ll look after her when she comes. I’ll do all I can!”

Gwendoline was a little snob, always hanging round those who were rich, beautiful or gifted. Alicia grinned as she saw the girl’s face. “Gwendoline’s going all out for the Honourable Clarissa,” she thought. “Now we shall see some fun!”