01 The School at the Chalet (23 page)

That idiot of a Gisela!’

The joke in question required careful preparation, and Grizel was rather doubtful as to whether she could get the materials she required. Fortune, however, favoured her. On the landing near the big dormitory stood an old armoire in which Mademoiselle kept such simple medicines as they were likely to need. As a rule it was kept locked, but Amy had fallen down and bumped her head, so Mademoiselle went to fetch some cold cream for the lump. She left the cupboard open, and Grizel, passing at the time, saw her chance-and took it.

After tea that day she vanished, and none of them could find her.

‘Never mind,’ said Joey, who had quite recovered her usual spirits. ‘She’s only sulking over this morning’s row-silly ass! Come on to cricket! She’ll turn up when she feels like it. Bags me first innings, everyone!’

They settled down to their cricket practice, and no one noticed that she never came near them till the bell called them all in to supper. Then she was already at the table, in a clean frock, looking almost aggressively tidy.

The fun started next morning when Mademoiselle came to give B division their German lessons. Both Grizel and Jo came for this. Jo’s German was fluent enough, but her written composition was weak, so Madge had ordained that she must attend the lessons of B division as well as those of A. Happy-go-lucky Jo accepted her lot quite calmly, and rejoiced in the fact that, at any rate, she was missing hated geometry, and might have been much worse off.

The first half of the lesson was devoted to the correction of a previous composition; then Mademoiselle turned to the blackboard.

‘We will now do some oral composition,’ she said in German. ‘ I will write the title on the board, and then we will all make sentences. We will, to-day, talk of the mountains. Margia, give me the German for “the mountains.” ‘

‘
Gebirge
,’ said Margia promptly.

‘The article?’ said Mademoiselle, waiting, chalk in hand.

‘Oh-”die,” I think,’ said Margia, somewhat doubtfully this time.

Mademoiselle beamed approval on her, and turned to write it up. In vain she struggled with the chalk. Not one mark could she make.

‘I do not understand,’ she said, lapsing into her own language in the stress of the moment.

‘P’r'aps the chalk is wet,’ suggested Joey. ‘ If it is, it doesn’t write, I know.’

‘Perhaps that is the reason,’ agreed Mademoiselle, looking at the chalk dubiously. ‘ Margia, my child, go to the stationery cupboard and fetch me a fresh piece, if you please. There is no more in the desk.’

Margia darted away, and presently returned with a new stick. But for all the impression it made, she might just as well never have fetched it.

‘But this is an extraordinary occurrence,’ Mademoiselle was beginning, when the door opened and the headmistress entered, white with anger.

At the sight of her, sundry people hastily searched their memories for past sins, but most of them could recall nothing that would make Miss Bettany look like that. Mademoiselle was too full of the unusual behaviour of the chalk to notice anything wrong.

‘Madame,’ she began eagerly, ‘ the chalk will not write!’

‘I know,’ said her Head in low tones. She advanced to the board and drew her hand down it in one sweep.

Then she looked at her palm. ‘ As I thought,’ she said. ‘ Which of you has vaselined all the blackboards?’

There was a deathly silence, broken suddenly by Amy Stevens.

‘Please, it wasn’t me!’ she wailed, bursting into tears. ‘And-and I’ve 1-lost my hanky!’

No one took any notice of her. Everyone was staring with fascinated eyes at the headmistress, whom they seemed to be seeing for the first time. Miss Bettany suddenly struck the desk with her hand. Everyone jumped.

‘Who did it?’ she demanded. ‘Is there a coward in the school?’

On the word, Grizel sprang to her feet, head up, eyes blazing defiance.

‘I did it!’ she said, as insolently as she dared. ‘I–’

‘Hush!’ There was that in the one word which checked the rush of speech to her lips. ‘You say you did it, Grizel Cochrane?’

‘Yes.’

‘Go to your room,’ said Miss Bettany quietly, ‘and wait there till I come to you. I am ashamed to think a girl I had counted as a Senior should cause so much trouble by her childishness and impertinence. Go at once!’

Grizel went.

Chapter 21.

Plans

Judgment had gone forth. Grizel was to be left severely alone by the rest of the school. No one was to speak to her, and she was to speak to nobody. She was to sit by herself in classes, and her meals would be brought to her in the schoolroom. When the others were at games, she was to go for a walk with whichever member of the staff could take her. This was to last for two days, and it was the severest punishment that had ever been given at the Châlet School.

In vain did Joey plead that the fault was largely hers, since it was she who had suggested that it would be a pity to let the term go by without some practical jokes. In vain did Mademoiselle, who was fond of the troublesome child, appeal against the sentence. Not even could Gisela, speaking for the school, avail anything. Miss Bettany had made up her mind that punished Grizel was going to be, and nothing would save her.

In the interview she had had with the girl, Grizel had proved herself defiant in the extreme. She possessed a temper which, once aroused, took some time to cool off. She had hated having to apologise to Gisela the day before, and the two affairs together had roused all the worst in her. Finally, Miss Bettany had given up trying to make her see reason, had named her punishment, and left her to herself, hoping that a little solitude would bring her to her senses.

By this time the boards had been cleaned and school was in full swing; but there was an atmosphere entirely strange to it. The girls worked with a will on most occasions, but to-day nobody attempted to dream, much less play. They were all far too subdued by events to do anything but work.

‘Oh dear!’ sighed Joey in the dinner-hour, when they were all wandering about doing nothing in particular.

‘I wish I’d never heard of the word ” joke “!’

‘Is Madame very angry?’ asked Gisela, slipping an arm through hers.

‘She’s rather mad,’ acknowledged Joey. ‘I think Grizel cheeked her.’

She threw a wistful glance at the window of the little room where Grizel was, presumably, confined. Then, turning to the elder girl, she went on: ‘Grizel’s got such a beast of a temper. When she gets her monkey up, she doesn’t much care what she does.’

‘”Gets her monkey up”?’ repeated Gisela with a puzzled frown. ‘ I do not understand.’

‘Sorry! That’s slang, I’m ‘fraid,’ apologised Joey. ‘Loses her temper, you know.’

‘Your English slang is sometimes so incomprehensible,’ complained the Head Girl.

‘Yes, I s’pose it is. But it’s jolly expressive. Hullo! Here’s the postman! He is late to-day. Grüss’ Gott, Herr Sneider!’

The postman returned her greeting amiably, handed her the letters, and departed.

‘One from Dick-that’s my brother-for Madame,’ commented Joey, ‘two for Maynie, and one for Margia and Amy. None for me. What a swizz!’

‘There is the bell for
Mittagessen
,” said Gisela. ‘Come! Let us go in!’

They went in, Joey leaving the Tyrolean in order to take the letters to her sister. Madge was standing by the window, her lips set and her eyes thoughtful.

‘Hullo,’ she said, when she saw her small sister, ‘what is it? Oh, letters!’

‘Letter from Dick,’ said Joey, ‘and it’s
Mittagessen
now!’

Madge’s face relaxed as she took the letters. ‘All right. You can come here after, and we’ll read it together.

Take the others to their owners, will you?’

Mittagessen
seemed never-ending to Joey. She bolted her own food, and when Simone accepted a second helping of
Pflaumekuchen
, cast a look of deep reproach at her.

However, everything comes to an end sooner or later, and at last they all rose, and grace was said. To Madge, two minutes later, appeared a flushed and excited Joey, who could scarcely be induced to sit down.

‘Then you can wait till tea-time,’ remarked her sister conclusively.

The recalcitrant subsided at that on to a little stool by her sister’s side, and, planting her elbows on that young lady’s knee, proclaimed herself ready.

‘Buck up and get on! Do!’ she urged. ‘I’m dying to hear what Dick says.’

Madge laughed. ‘ Here goes, then! ‘ she said, as she smoothed out the thin foreign paper.

‘Dear Kids,’ Dick had written,- ‘Thanks awfully for your last letters, though it took me all my time to read Joey’s. What on earth she wrote with I suppose she knows! Some of the words looked as though a good-sized black beetle had fallen into the inkpot and then staggered about on the paper. They don’t seem to teach the young to write nowadays.’

‘Cheek!’ interjected Joey swiftly. ‘He needn’t talk; his own fist’s bad enough for anything!’

‘I’m glad the school’s going so well; but, my dear kid, have nothing to do with Carrick. He’s an awfully bad hat. They do say that he was practically kicked out of here-had made the place too hot to hold him. But it’s only gossip so far, and there may be no foundation for it. All the same, a chap from the Hills told me that they’d sent that unfortunate kid of theirs to some school up there, and then tried to clear out and leave her on the Head’s hands. Luckily, the old lady contrived to track them, and they were obliged to stump up what they owed and take the girl with them. One’s awfully sorry for her. She seems to have a rotten time from all I can gather. Mrs C. has a vile temper, they say, and he isn’t much better. It’s an awful life for a girl to go dragging about like that! If Carrick wants you to have Juliet-isn’t that her name?-as a boarder, don’t you do it! I wish to goodness you had someone more reliable to look after you than Mlle La Pâttre. I know she’s a jolly good sort, but women are so helpless! They ought to have a man to look after them.

‘I’m awfully glad to hear that the piccaninny is going strong and getting fat. Austria seems to suit her. That cinema stunt was rather cheek, I thought. I’m thankful it got no further. I certainly don’t want my sisters stuck up in every cinema for any idiot to see!

‘There’s precious little news to tell you. We are busy with some experiments at present. The Gobbler (Dick’s superior) has some wild notion of growing European fruit-trees here, so we’re mucking about in a fair-sized clearing growing good old plum and apple. This, of course, is in addition to our ordinary work. I blessed him the other day, I can tell you. He had us pruning and planting the whole day, and the mercury doing the high jump for all it was worth.

‘The rains are going well, and there’s a chorus of frogs outside my bungalow at the moment. This is beastly weather. The one consolation is, that anyhow the snakes are lying pretty low. My bearer caught a whacker the other night-a king cobra-so he’s introduced a mongoose to the household in case the mate is anywhere round. We’ve called the little lad “Binjamin,” after “Stalky’s” Binjamin. Remember? Well, there’s nothing more to tell you, and I’m dead tired, and just going to turn in when I’ve finished this screel.

Remember what I say, and leave Carrick alone. Salaams.-Dick.’

There was a little silence when Madge had finished. Then Joey broke it.

‘Dick’s too late,’ she said. ‘We’ve been and gone and done it! Poor Juliet!’

‘Poor Juliet indeed!’ sighed Madge. ‘Oh, Joey Bettany, you’ve a lot to be thankful for, let me tell you!’

‘I know,’ said Joey soberly.’ You’re a sport to me, Madge! And Dick’s another!’

‘We’re all you’ve got,’ said Madge briefly.

‘Some people haven’t as much,’ replied Joey, leaning her head against her sister. ‘Look at Juliet! And then Grizel hasn’t anyone much. You can’t say her father’s up to much, can you? Poor old Grizel!’

Madge slipped an arm round her little sister. ‘You’re right there, old lady. But Grizel must come into line with the rest of you. You’re up to monkey tricks as well, I know, but you haven’t been impertinent too. I know you think I’m being a perfect beast to her, but she can’t be left to go on like that, can she?’

Joey acknowledged the truth of this. ‘No; I see your point. But, Madge, old thing, I do think she’s sorry by this time! Can’t you go and see?’

Madge shook her head. ‘No, Joey! She won’t be sorry yet. Now it’s time for prep., and you must toddle off. Come along early to-morrow morning and we’ll have a palaver. It’s only a fortnight to the holidays now, and then we’ll have a good time together.’ She gave her sister a little squeeze and then sent her off to her preparation.

Left to herself, she faced the Grizel problem once more. She knew that it would take a lot to make that young lady say she was sorry, and yet she had determined that apologise Grizel must and should. The point was, how was she to be brought to it? She recognised the truth of Joey’s statement that Grizel hadn’t

‘anyone much.’ In some ways she was more to be pitied than Juliet. From all accounts, the latter had been accustomed to little different treatment from what she had received; but Grizel for five years of her life had been the spoilt darling of her grandmother, the next few years had been a hard discipline for a wilful, petted child; and apparently too much freedom from such discipline had gone to Grizel’s head. Nothing else could explain her present defiance.

‘Oh dear!’ thought Miss Bettany. ‘Running a school isn’t the easiest thing in the world-especially when there are two such girls as Grizel and Juliet in it! I wish I knew what to do!’

Later in the day she went to see Grizel again, but found her stonily silent and absolutely unrepentant. The interview did no good, and she left the girl with a hopeless feeling that something was all wrong here. Grizel herself was still too miserably angry to care what happened.

‘I hate her-I hate them all!’ she thought to herself. ‘I’d run away if I’d anywhere to run to! Oh, I wish I was dead, I do!’

She leant her forehead against the edge of the window-frame, staring miserably out at the dark pinewoods and the slopes of the Bärenbad Alpe. Presently she shifted her position, so that she could look up the long valley towards the Mondscheinspitze, with the Bärenkopf in the distance, and, towering over all, the Tiernjoch, with its sinister shadows. Even on a summer’s day, when the other peaks gleamed white in the glory of the afternoon sun, it looked dark and lowering. Her mind went back to the stories Herr Mensch had told them about it. How, one winter, sixty years ago, there had been a fearful avalanche down its slopes, which had partly buried a little hamlet that stood at the foot of it, and how, when spring had brought the thaw and the snow had melted, the houses were so buried in rocks and earth that it had been well-nigh impossible to dig them out. There were other gruesome stories, too, of travellers who had been caught in the treacherous mist on its slopes and had never been seen again-or else had been found, a little heap of broken bones, at the bottom of the ravine which made one of its chief dangers. As she stood looking dreamily into the distance, she heard footsteps under the window, and then Wanda’s precise English.