04 The Head Girl of the Chalet School (10 page)

She went off, and three minutes later Joey appeared and hugged her sister tempestuously. “Madge! It’s just like old times seeing you here! It was rotten of the bell to ring just when we saw you coming! Just like the thing, though! How long are you going to stay?”

“Three days,” replied her sister. “Jem has had to go off to Vienna again, so I said I’d rather come here till he comes back. They are full of a new cure for tuberculosis there, and they asked him to attend a meeting of specialists to discuss this thing. I don’t know what it is, but it’s likely to prove important, and they think it may mean that they can stamp out the disease. I’m sure I hope they will.”

Jo nodded wisely. “You see a good deal of it up there, don’t you, even though you are out of the village? I know it always makes me feel a pig to he so well when I see those poor things up there so jolly brave and plucky!”

Madge smiled at the dear, quaint face with its troubled look and said, “You mustn’t think about it Joey.

Remember that many of those who come are more or less cured, anyway. And many who have to live there are pretty well. Now, tell me your news.”

“Except for this idiotic fuss with Deira and Grizel, I don’t think there
is
any,” replied Jo, rumpling up her hair with her hand.

“Fuss with Deira and Grizel?
What
fuss?” demanded her sister sharply.

“Oh, it isn’t Grizel’s fault,” declared Joey. “I think she’s been jolly decent about it all. Only, Deira went mad, and burnt her harmony, and her grannie’s last letter with it!”

“
What
? This is the first I’ve heard of this! Sit down, and tell me what it all means!” commanded Madge.

“I can’t tell you much more. Deira had a row of sorts with Grizel – don’t know what about, though, but I think it has something to do with the prees. You know what Deira is. She lost her temper, and tried to pay Grizel out by burning her her things.
I
think it was an utterly mad thing to do!” stated Miss Bettany, curled up on the sofa by her sister. “She doesn’t seem to care, either. Grizel has been jolly nice about it, and I know she was upset about the letter. No one can do anything with Deira, and she mopes about all day by herself. None of us want to talk to her, though we’re polite, of course! We couldn’t be anything else here!

Austrians
do
insist on their twopence-halfpenny worth of manners! Deira won’t say she’s sorry, and it’s been jolly unpleasant!”

Madge Russell turned matters over in her own mind. She felt glad, on the whole, that she had decided against accompanying her husband to Vienna. During the three days she would be at the school surely she could clear up this trouble. She wondered what had happened to bring about such a state of affairs. Not unnaturally, she felt inclined to blame Grizel herself in the first instance. That young lady had no reputation for making allowances for anyone, and she possessed a sarcastic tongue. It seemed almost certain that she had brought this trouble on herself.

Joey, watching her sister’s face, guessed what was passing through her mind, and tried to put matters as straight as she could. “Madge, I don’t think this is Grizel’s fault. In fact, the other prees. practically say it isn’t, though they won’t tell
us
what’s happened. Grizel has been awfully upset about it all, and she’s done her best to straighten it up – honour bright, she has. Only, Deira doesn’t seem to want it straightened.”

Madge frowned. “Are you sure of this, Joey?”

“Positive certain,” declared Joey. “Honour, Madge. Grizel’s been trying to be a decent head-girl, and she’s been doing everything she can to keep things running just as they did before. She does lots of odd duty, and is jolly nice to the babes-”

“Joey,” interrupted Mrs. Russell, “haven’t you another adverb you can use? Everything’s ‘jolly’ with you just now. I don’t object to the word, but it gets monotonous when you never use anything else.”

“Well,
very
nice, then,” amended Joey. “She’s not been nearly so sarkey this term, either. Do believe that it isn’t her fault, Madge.”

“Do you think I’m condemning her unheard?” asked her sister dryly. “You’ve never called me unfair before, Joey.”

Joey crimsoned. “No; but I think – things – make you feel that – that – that -”

“That – what?” demanded Mrs. Russell, as the orator came to a distressed halt.

“Well, that it is more likely to be her fault than Deira’s.”

Madge Russell looked at her sister again. Then she nodded. “You’re right, Joey – though I didn’t think it of myself. And it is unfair!”

“I didn’t say so!”

“Not exactly. But you
meant
it, didn’t you?”

Jo fidgeted. Then she looked up. “Yes; I think I did. I can’t bear you to be wrong in anything?”

“I’m often wrong, Joey-baba,” sighed her sister, an arm round the slender shoulders. “I certainly was there!

Listen! Here comes the Robin!” Joey wriggled away, and stood up as the Robin came racing into the room and flung herself on “Tante Marguerite” with cries of joy. “Tante Guito! How lovely to have you again!

School isn’t so nice without you!”

Mrs. Russell kissed the rosy face upturned to hers, and ruffled the short curls as she said, “You have me in the holidays,
Bubchen
.”

“That’s not the same,” said the Robin sagely. “We want you all the time – Joey an’ me!”

“And I want you! Are you being a very good girl, sweetheart?”

“I was second – but
second
in my form last week,” said the Robin impressively. “And I have no order marks all this term!”

“Papa will be pleased to hear that. He sent his love to you, my pet, and when Uncle Jem comes home again he will come down for a week-end at the Post, and you and Joey are to stay with him.”

The Robin squeezed her hands together in her joy. “But that will be
jolly
!” she said emphatically.

“Topping!” Jo added her comment. “Will it be next week-end, Madge?”

“Yes, I think so. And I am here for three days this time, Robin; and I am going to ask Mademoiselle if I may take my classes again. She tells me that Miss Annersley has a bad cold, so we will send her to the sickroom, and give her a rest while I am here.”

The Robin hugged her again as the only possible means of expressing her joy, and the bell rang for
Mittagessen
just when everyone was nicely tousled, for Joey had joined in the hug. They made a frantic rush for the “splasheries” on that, and the two children had to run off to join the others, while Mrs. Russell followed more soberly to the staff-room, where she was greeted with acclamations as the staff filed out to go to the
Speisesaal
.

“You will take your own seat, Madame?” said Mademoiselle, who was already in her old place, leaving the head of the staff table to the younger woman. Mrs. Russell nodded, and went there. Then she said grace, and they all sat down.

It was like old times to sit there, looking down the room at the long tables with the fresh girl-faces turning to her; and yet there were differences. Gisela, Bernhilda, Juliet, Wanda, and Bette were no longer there.

Grizel Cochrane sat in the head-girl’s seat, dispensing the soup to the little ones, and Joey was no longer a child. Others had grown up, too, and there were new faces among the little ones. Even the Robin was losing her baby chubbiness, and shooting up into a slim little girl, though she still wore her pretty pinafores.

Particularly, Mrs. Russell noticed Grizel and Deira. The former looked grave and preoccupied, and the latter was plainly miserable. She merely played with her food, and made no attempt to join in the merry chattering in which even Frolich Amundsen, a new little Norwegian, was managing to take part, though it was French day, and till she came to the school she had never heard a word of French.

Mademoiselle’s eyes followed the girl’s, and she looked very serious, though she said nothing. When the meal was over, however, she caught Deira outside, and brought her back to insist on her eating some of the soup which Luise had kept warm. “You must eat, Deira,” she said firmly. “You will make yourself ill if you do not, and that I cannot permit. Please take it, or I shall treat you as if you were an infant like Robin Humphries, and feed you myself.”

Deira took it then, but with a very ill-used air. She escaped as soon as she could, and went off to her own quarters, feeling that the whole world was against her.

Madge Russell had gone up to the prefects’ room, meanwhile, and was having a chat with her girls. They were all delighted to see her, and rejoiced loudly when she told them that she was going to teach during her visit.

“Oh, Madame! But that will be so nice!” cried Luigia. “It will be as it was before the summer!”

“I am so glad,” said Rosalie. “We do miss you, Madame.”

“What books shall we need?” asked Mary Burnett. “It’s literature for us first lesson this afternoon?”

A shout of laughter rose at this; even Grizel joining in.

“But how like Mary!” chuckled Gertrud. “You are in haste to begin, my dear.”

“Well, it’s better not to waste any time,” said Mary in her matter-of-fact way.

“Shall it be Shakespeare?” asked Vanna. “It is so long since we had a Shakespeare lesson with you, Madame.”

“Yes; if you like,” said Madge. “What are you doing this term?”

“
The Tempest
,” said Rosalie. “We’re just finishing the first act.”

“Very well, then. Bring your
Tempests
, and we’ll go on.”

Grizel produced hers from the shelf, and the others made haste to find theirs. While they were busy, the head-girl turned to the ex-Head of the school. “Madame, may I speak to you after school? I do want a talk.”

Mrs. Russell looked at her thoughtfully. “Yes, Grizel. Come to my study and have
Kaffee
with me, will you? I shall be alone.”

“Thank you,” murmured Grizel. “It is good of you, Madame. I do want a talk with you.”

Madge looked at her anxiously. The girl was paler than usual, and there were shadows under her eyes. She had been taking this thing hardly.

“I am sure you are working well in all ways this term, Grizel,” said Mrs. Russell gently. “I can see that for myself.”

The colour touched Grizel’s face, but she said nothing more, and the return of the others waving their books put an end to the conversation for the time. Lessons began almost immediately, and in the joy of being at the beloved work of teaching once more, Madge forgot most of the news she had received, and the girls forgot their feud with Deira, who awakened to a little more life under the influence of the old Head.

From the Sixth, which numbered six girls only, Mrs. Russell went on to the Fourth, which was the largest form in the school, and there she received a rapturous welcome, and felt herself back in the old days indeed, for not one of her girls was missing, save the little Crown Princess of Belsornia. The afternoon finished up in the First, where the babies, as the older girls called them, were having “At the Back of the North Wind”

read to them, with explanations where they were needed. This lasted only twenty minutes, and then the last school-bell rang, and the few day-girls went off to get ready for their walk to the various chalets round the lake where they lived. Mrs. Russell retired to her old bedroom, which was still hers, and changed her frock, and brushed out her pretty curly hair before she twisted it up into its usual knot at the back of her head.

Then she went down to the study, where she was waylaid by Jo, who wanted to know if she and the Robin might come to
Kaffee
.

Madge shook her head. “I’m sorry, Joey, but Grizel is coming, and I want to see her alone.”

Joey’s face fell grievously. “Oh, Madge! We do so want to be with you!”

“I shall go over to put the Robin to bed,” said her sister quietly. “You may come to my room early tomorrow morning. At least, you may come after six,” she added hastily.

Jo was given to waking up early, and her interpretation of the time might be earlier than her sister liked.

“Righto, then,” said Jo reluctantly. “But it’s rotten luck all the same!”

“Can’t help that,” said Madge austerely. “Grizel needs me more than you do just now.”

“I wish Deira had been in – her beloved Ireland before she’d behaved like this!” said Jo. “I think she’s an ass!”

“I can’t help that. And your English, my child, is in sad need of reform.”

Jo grinned. “I think you’d better come back, Madge. We can’t get on without you.”

“Very kind of you, but I have to think of Jem, remember.”

“You would spend the hols. with him,” suggested Joey.

Madge shook her head laughingly. “I’m afraid he would scarcely be contented with that. And I shouldn’t like it either! Now you must run away. Grizel will be here in a minute, and
Kaffee
will be ready for you sooner than that. Run along, baby! You shall have your innings tomorrow morning.”

Joey went off, fairly contented with this promise, and her sister went into the study and sat down. Grizel put in an appearance three minutes later, and then Luise arrived with
Kaffee und Kuchen
, and they were left alone.

Grizel started the ball. She took her coffee from the Head, accepted a cake, and then said nervously, “Have you heard of what has happened, Madame?”

“Do you mean between you and Deira? Yes; Jo told me.”

A little silence followed. Then the girl set down her coffee and turned to the Head. “Madame, on my honour as a Guide, I
have
tried!”

Madge looked her full in the face, but the grey eyes never dropped beneath hers, so she said, “Give me your version of the story, Grizel. I want to know everyone’s side before I say anything.”

Grizel told her story, and told it very fairly. She admitted that Deira had “made her wild,” and she had been sarcastic about it. “But I never meant to make her as mad as this,” she concluded. “I’m awfully sorry, Madame.”

Madge looked at her thoughtfully. “You don’t realise what a bitter tongue you have when you are roused, Grizel,” she said. “I am not excusing Deira’s action. It was a piece of most unpleasant revenge, and thoroughly childish into the bargain. But what I want you to realise is that you are by no means blameless. I shall not say any more. I think you have suffered over this, and there is no need for anything else. That is all.