Second Form at Malory Towers (10 page)

“Ah! Mam'zelle Rougier, she saw them instead, and she has gone blue in the face, and she has taken Belinda and poor Sally to Miss Grayling!” cried Mam'zelle. “Ah, this bad-tempered woman! She cannot see a joke. I, I myself will go to see Miss Grayling. I will tell her one, two, three things about Mam'zelle Rougier! Ah-h-h!”

And off went Mam'zelle Dupont, scuttling along on her high heels like a harassed rabbit. The girls looked at one another. What an afternoon!

Mam'zelle did not meet Belinda and Sally, for they went different ways. Just at the moment that she knocked at Miss Grayling's door, Sally and Belinda walked into the classroom, looking rather gloomy. They reported what had happened.

“So you did split on me after all.” said Alicia in disgust.

“We didn't even mention your name,” said Belinda, “So you needn't be afraid. Alicia.”

“I'm not afraid!” said Alicia. But she was. She hadn't been in Miss Grayling's good books lately and she knew it. She didn't want to be hauled over the coals for this now. But she didn't like the girls' scornful glances.

“Mam'zelle Dupont's gone off to join the merry family now.” said Darrell. “I wonder what is happening.”

Mam'zelle Dupont had swept into the Head's drawing room, startling both Miss Grayling and Mam'zelle Rougier. Miss Grayling was just getting an account of the quarrel between the two French mistresses from a rather shamefaced Mam'zelle Rougier, when the other Mam'zelle swept in.

She saw the book of drawings at once and picked them up. She examined them. “Ah,
là là
! This Belinda is a genius! Ha ha! - look at me here. Miss Grayling—did you ever see such a plump rabbit as I look? And oh, Mam'zelle Rougier, what are you doing with that dagger? It is marvellous, wonderful I But see here! I am to be poisoned!”

Mam'zelle Dupont went off into peals of laughter. She wiped the tears from her eyes. “You do not think it is funny?” she said in astonishment to the other mistresses. “But look—look—here I am to be shot with this gun. As if my good friend Mam'zelle Rougier would do such a thing to me! Ah, we quarrel sometimes, she and I. but it matters nothing! We are two Frenchwomen together,
n'est ce pas
, Mam'zelle Rougier, and we have much to put up with from these bad English girls!”

Mam'zelle Rougier began to look a little less frigid. Miss Grayling looked at one or two of the pictures and allowed herself to smile. “This one is really very funny, Mam'zelle Dupont,” she said “And this one, too. Of course, the whole thing is most disrespectful, and I want you both to say what punishment we must give the class—and especially, of course, Belinda.”

There was a silence. “I feel,” began Mam'zelle Rougier, at last, “I feel. Miss Grayling, that perhaps Mam'zelle Dupont and I are a little to blame for an this- our stupid quarrel, you know - naturally it intrigues the girls - and
...
”

“Ah, yes, you are right!” cried Mam'zelle Dupont, fervently. “You are quite, quite right, my friend. It is we who are to blame. Miss Grayling—we demand no punishment for the bad, bad girls! We will forgive them.”

Mam'zelle Rougier looked a little taken aback. Why should Mam'zelle Dupont forgive them? They hadn't drawn her unkindly! But Mam'zelle Dupont was rushing on in her headlong way.

“These pictures, they are more funny than bad! It is a tease, a joke, is it not? We do not mind! It was our stupid quarrel that started it. But now, now we are friends, are we not, Mam'zelle Rougier?”

Mam'zelle Rougier could not say no to that. Swept away in spite of herself, she nodded. Mam'zelle Dupont gave her two sudden and exuberant kisses, one on each cheek. Miss Grayling was much amused.

“That Belinda!” said Mam'zelle Dupont, looking at the drawings again. “Ah, what a clever child. One day, maybe, Miss Grayling, we shall be proud of these drawings! When Belinda is famous, Mam'zelle Rougier and I. we shall look together with pride on these pictures, and we shall say, “Ah, the little Belinda did these for us when she was in our class!”“

Mam'zelle Rougier said nothing to this. She was feeling that she had been made to do all kinds of things she hadn't meant to do. But she couldn't go back on what she bad said now. That was certain.

“Well, perhaps you would go back to your classes now,” suggested Miss Grayling. “And you win tell the girls, and set their minds at rest? Belinda must apologize, of course. But I think you'll find she will do that without any prompting.”

The two Mam'zelles departed arm-in-arm. The girls they met stared at them in surprise, for everyone knew that the two had been bitter enemies for the last week or so. They went up to the second form, who stood in silence, glad to see Mam'zelle looking so cheerful, and the other Mam'zelle not quite so sour as usual.

Mam'zelle Dupont set their minds at rest. “You have been bad girls. Very bad girls. Belinda, you let your pencil run away with you. I am shocked!”

She didn't look shocked. Her beady black eyes twinkled. Belinda stood up.

“I want to apologize,” she said, rather shakily, 'to both of you.”

Mam'zelle Rougier didn't see any necessity for Belinda to apologize to Mam'zelle Dupont, but she didn't say so. She accepted the apology as graciously as she could.

“And now for punishment,” said Mam'zelle Dupont, in a stern voice, but still with twinkling eyes, “for punishment you will pay better attention to your French lessons than you have ever done before. You will learn well, you will translate marvellously, you will be my best pupils. Is that not so?”

“Oh, yes, Mam'zelle,” promised the girls fervently, and, for the time being at any rate, even Gwendoline and Daphne meant it! Mam'zelle Rougier went. Mam'zelle Dupont took over for the five remaining minutes of the lesson.

“Please.” said Darrell, at the end, “Mam'zelle, will you tell us who is to take the chief parts in the French plays we're doing? It's so muddling not knowing. Perhaps you and Mam'zelle Rougier have settled it now.”

“We have not,” said Mam'zelle Dupont, “but I, I am generous today. I will let the poor Mam'zelle Rougier have her way, to make up to her for the shock you have given her this morning. I will not take Daphne for the chief parts. You, Darrell, and Sally, shall have them. That will please Mam'zelle Rougier and put her into such a good mood that she will smile on you all!”

Daphne was not too pleased about this. She looked at Mam'zelle, rather hurt. All the same, it was a good thing, she thought, because how she was EVER going to learn all that French talk in the play she really didn't know? Perhaps it would be just as well if she didn't have the chief parts, after all. She would look hurt, but be very sweet and generous about it!

So, looking rather stricken, she spoke to Mam'zelle. “It's just as you like, Mam'zelle. I had been looking forward to swotting up my parts for you—but I hope I'm generous enough to give them up to others without a fuss!”

The kind girl!” said Mam'zelle, beaming. “I will make it up to you. Daphne. You shall come to me and we will read together a French book I loved when I was a girl Ah, that will be a treat for both of us!”

The class wanted to laugh when they saw Daphne's horrified face. Read a French book with Mam'zelle! How dreadful. She would have to get out of that somehow.

The affair of the drawings had three results. Alicia was sulky, because she felt she bad come out very badly in the matter, and she knew that Sally and Darrell and some of the others didn't think very much of her because of it The two Mam'zelles were firm friends now, instead of enemies. And Daphne was now given a very minor part indeed in the plays, where she would not appear as someone beautiful, but only as an old man in a hood. She was very much disgusted.

“Especially as I've written and told my people all about my fine parts,” she complained. It's a shame.”

“Yes, it is,” said Gwendoline. “Never mind, Daphne—you won't have to do all that swotting now!”

Jean came up with a box at that moment She jingled it under their noses. “Have you got your games sub, you two? We're collecting it today. Five bob each.”

“Here's mine,” said Gwendoline, getting out her purse.

“Yours, please. Daphne,” said Jean. Daphne took out her purse. “Blow!” she said. “I thought I had ten shillings, but there's only a sixpence. Oh, yes—I had to buy a birthday present for my governess last week. Gwen, lend me the money till I get some from home, will you?”

“She lent you two bob last week,” said Jean, jingling the box again. “I bet you didn't pay her back! And you borrowed sixpence off me for church collection, let me tell you. Why don't you keep a little book showing your debts?”

“What do little sums like that matter?” said Daphne, annoyed. “I'll be getting pounds and pounds on my birthday soon. Anyway, I can pay back this week. My uncle is sending me thirty shillings.”

“Well, I'll, I'll lend you five bob till then,” said Gwendoline, and put a ten-shilling note into the box. Jean turned to Darrell and collected her money. She went to Ellen and jingled the box under her nose.

“Five bob, please. Ellen.”

“Don't do that under my nose!” said Ellen, jumping. “What is it you want? Five shillings? Well, I haven't got it on me just now. I'll give it to you later.”

“You said that last time,” said Jean, who was a most persistent person when it came to collecting money. “Go on—get it, Ellen, and then the collection will be finished.”

I'm working,” said Ellen, annoyed. “Take the thing away. I'll give you the five shillings soon.”

Jean went off, also annoyed. Daphne spoke in a low voice to Gwendoline. “I bet she hasn't got the five bob to give! She won a scholarship here, but I don't believe her people can really afford to keep her at a school like this!”

Ellen didn't quite hear what was said but she knew it was something nasty, by Daphne's sneering tone. She flung down her book. “Can't
anybody
work in this place!” she said. “Stop your whispering. Daphne, and take that smile off your silly face!”

“Really!” said Daphne, as Ellen walked out of the room and banged the door. “What awful manners that girl's got! What's the matter with her?”

Nobody knew. Nobody guessed that Ellen was getting more and more worried about her work. She knew that the end of term tests were coming along, and she wanted to come out well in them. She must! So she was working hard every minute, and she had begun to feel at last that she would be able to face the tests and do well.

But that evening she did not feel very well. Her throat hurt her. Her eyes hurt her, especially when she moved them about. She coughed.

Surely she wasn't going to be ill! That would put her terribly behind in her work. It would never do. So Ellen dosed herself with cough lozenges, and gargled secretly in the bathroom, hoping that Matron would not notice anything wrong.

Her eyes were too bright that evening. Her usually pale cheeks were red. She coughed in prep. Miss Potts, who was taking prep, looked at her.

“Do you feel all right, Ellen?” she asked.

“Oh, quite all right, Miss Potts,” said Ellen, untruthfully, and bent her head over her book. She coughed again.

I don't like that cough,” said Miss Potts. I think perhaps you had better go to...”

“Oh, Miss Potts, it's only a tickle in my throat,” said Ellen, desperately. “Perhaps I'd better get a drink of water.”

“Well go then,” said Miss Potts, still not quite satisfied. So Ellen went She leaned her hot head against the cool wall of the cloakroom and wished miserably that she had someone she could confide in. But her snappiness and irritability had put everyone against her—even Jean. Jean had tried to be nice—and Ellen hadn't even bothered to go and get the games subscription for her.

“I don't know what's come over me lately,” thought the girl. “I used not to be like this, surely. I had plenty of friends at my other school I wish I'd never left there. I wish I'd never won a scholarship!”

She must go back. Her throat still hurt her and she slipped a lozenge into her mouth. Then she went back to the classroom, trying to walk firmly, though her legs felt rather wobbly.

She had a high temperature and should have been tucked up in bed. But she wasn't going to give in. She must do her work. She mustn't get behind. She must do well in the tests, whatever happened.

She tried to learn some French poetry, but it buzzed round and round in her head. She began to cough again.

“Oh, shut up,” said Alicia, in a whisper. “You're putting it on to get Potty's sympathy.”

That was so like Alicia! She didn't like people who coughed or sniffed or groaned. She had no sympathy to spare for those who needed it. She was a healthy, strong, clever girl, who had never been ill in her life, and she scorned stupid people, or those who were delicate and ailing, or in trouble. She was hard, and it didn't seem as if she was getting any kinder. Darrell often wondered how she could so badly have wanted Alicia to be her friend when she had first come to Malory Towers!

Ellen looked at Alicia with dislike. I can't help it,” she said, “I'm not putting it on.” She sneezed and Alicia gave an exclamation of disgust. “Don't! Go to bed if you're as bad as all that!” “Silence!” said Miss Potts, annoyed. Alicia said no more. Ellen sighed and tried to concentrate on her book again. But she couldn't. She was glad when the bell went and she could get up and go out into the cooler air. She was hot and yet she shivered. Oh, blow, she certainly was in for a cold. Perhaps it would be better tomorrow.