04 The Head Girl of the Chalet School (26 page)

Then came
Kaffee und Kuchen
, and after that tennis or cricket.
Abendessen
was at seven, and when it was over, they were free till bedtime. Work was considerably lightened too, so that the short preparation periods might he sufficient, and all practice had to be done before
Frustuck
, which was at a quarter to eight.

Under these circumstances Cornelia found that it was not going to be easy to get away. This upset her so badly that she became a perfect nuisance in lessons – fidgeting, not attending, and answering the mistresses with so much impertinence when called to order that it was scarcely surprising that she found herself in the black books of the entire staff. Finally, she came into violent collision with Miss Maynard, and was marched off to bed – the only punishment she appeared to mind – and there left to come to her senses. It would have been a good opportunity for slipping off if Matron had not been working in the room across the passage, and there could be no question of her climbing down from the balcony as Grizel had done on one occasion, and Joey and the little Crown Princess of Belsornia on another, for the Lower Fourth’s form-room was immediately beneath the dormitory, and they would have seen her. Since getting away was out of the question, the young lady proceeded to revenge herself for her punishment by getting the sponges of the seven other people who slept in the same dormitory, soaking them thoroughly, and placing them in the exact centres of their owners’ beds. Then she retired to her own, and lay looking again – for it was becoming a characteristic pose with her – as if butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth.

Her suspicions aroused by the silence in the Yellow dormitory – the last time Cornelia had been sent to bed she had sung all the songs she knew at the top of her voice – Matron came in to see if all was right. So far as she could judge, there was nothing wrong – except Cornelia’s expression.
That
was too good to be true!

Matron looked round the room sharply. Then her eye was caught by a spot of wet on Paula von Rothenfels’s counterpane. She made a dive, threw back the clothes, and displayed a nicely soaked bed. Five minutes later all the beds had been taken to pieces, and there were the wet sponges. They had been there for half an hour, so the beds were thoroughly damp.

Just at that moment the bell rang for Break, and Matron, popping her head out of the window, called to Margia Stevens to send Mademoiselle to her. “And at
once
!” she concluded. Then she turned back to where Cornelia was lying. “We’ll see what Mademoiselle has to say to this, miss! Of all the outrageous things to do! You deserve a good sound whipping!”

And this is exactly what Mademoiselle thought when she surveyed the beds.

A long lecture, the confiscation of her pocket-money for three weeks, gating to grounds, and five French fables to be learned and repeated to the irate Head of the school were among her punishment. But what she felt far more was Matron’s decree that she should take all the beds and the bedding, put everything outside in the garden to dry, and, when it was ready, remake all the beds. The mattresses were to be hung over the balcony; the clothes to be carried downstairs, and spread out on the playing-field. Finally, the mattresses were to be put into fresh covers, and Cornelia was to do it.

It took her all day, and Matron saw to it that she had nothing but dry bread and milk till it was done. What made this one of the sharpest parts of her punishment was the fact that Herr Marani came up from Innsbruck for a short visit, and brought with him a big basket of his wife’s cakes for them.

Sitting on the floor of the dormitory, stitching at one of the hated covers, Cornelia shed bitter tears as she heard the others making merry over the cakes which they had with their
Kaffee
out-of-doors, as they usually did when the day was hot. She heard the Robin’s exclamation of, “Me, I love Herr Marani!” followed by Maria’s, “Mamma has made these cakes even better than usual!” and she looked at the plate of dry bread and the big cup of milk which Luise had brought up for her with loathing.

Her first idea was to go on a hunger strike, and refuse to eat what they had given her, but Matron’s contemptuous “Well, it won’t hurt you to fast for once!” put an end to
that
. With tears dripping saltily down her face, she swallowed the hated meal, and then turned again to her task. She would have rebelled against it if she had dared, but she knew that if she did Matron would keep her word, which was that she should have no play at all till it was done, and that she should also do the other beds which would be changed at the week-end. So she kept on, and by seven o’clock she had put in the last stitch, and that part of her punishment was over.

Miss Durrant came for her then, and made her wash her face and hands, brush her hair, and come for a walk along the lake-side. “You have had no exercise today,” she said quietly, “and that will not do. Get your hat; the sun is still hot.”

Cornelia did as she was told in sulky silence, but, as Miss Durrant had no idea of talking to her, her silence fell rather flat. She was out for an hour; then she was brought back, and sent to bed in the sick-room, which was the only one of the rooms to be without a balcony, so there was no possible escape from it, for it opened into Matron’s room, and that lady was popularly reported to sleep with one ear open.

Joey came back on the next day, and was promptly assailed by several people all wanting to know how

“Madame” was; what the baby was like; and when they were going to see them both. She was willing to chatter now, but shr still had that curiously older air. “Madge is splendid,” she said, “and the baby’s a dear!

He’s got the duckiest little hands and feet you ever saw, and heaps of soft, black hair.”

“What are they going to call him?” asked Grizel

“David, after my father,” said Jo. “And James too, of course.”

“David James Russell,” said Simone, trying it over to see how it sounded. “I think it is veree nice, Joey.”

“Oh, so do I!” put in Evadne eagerly. “What will they call him for short?”

“David, of course. Madge objects to Dave, which was what Dr. Maynard suggested. All the same,” added the baby’s aunt with a chuckle, “I bet he’ll be Davy before very long!”

“But that is a pretty name too,” said the Robin, who had been listening with all her might. “Joey, when are Grizel and I to see him? I do so want to see a very
little
baby!”

“The week after next,” said Jo. “You and Grizel are to go up for the weekend, and I’m coming on the Sunday.”

“But why not for the whole time with us?” objected Grizel.

“Madge says it wouldn’t be fair. I’ve just had a week with her, and she thinks U ought not to have any more than just a day till half-term now.”

“That’s like Madame,” said Mary. “She is the very fairest person I’ve ever met, I think.”

“We’ve some new for you – guess what?” chimed in Margia.

“Yes; make her guess!” laughed Rosalie. “Come along, Jo.”

Jo thought hard, screwing up her mouth and frowning deeply the while. “Someone else is engaged,” she hazarded.

“No! Not that! And who is there, anyway?”

“Well, Bette might.”

“At seventeen and a half? Talk sense, Joey?”

“There’s Bernhilda.”

“No; Bernhilda is not betrothed
yet
!” said Frieda, nodding her head as if she could tell secrets if only she would.

Jo was on her in a flash. “Do you mean she’s going to? Who to?”

But Frieda only shook her head, and refused to state, in spite of all their eager entreaties.

“Well, they’ve put the trains on early, as it’s such glorious weather.”

“I don’t think much of your guessing capacities!” said Grizel scornfully. “The trains
were
put on on Monday, but it won’t make a lot of difference to us just now.”

“Someone’s coming to see us then?”

“Ah, now you’re getting at it. Yes; guess who.”

“Elisaveta?” asked Jo excitedly, her mind going to this dear friend of hers.

“Elisaveta may be coming, but no one has told us of it,” said Marie von Eschanau. “No; it’s Wanda and Friedel.”

“Marie! You little horror!” cried Rosalie. “You shouldn’t have told!”

“Oh well, I was going to say them next,” said Jo easily. “How topping! When are they coming, Marie?”

“On Friday, Tante Sofie is coming with them, and Wanda is to stay here, but Friedel is to go to the Kron Prinz Karl. They are coming for three days while Tante Sofie visits her cousins in Innsbruck, and then they will go back with her.”

“Gorgeous! It will be nice to have Wanda again! Perhaps Gisela and Bernhilda could come too, and Bette as well! Then it would he almost like old times again! What do you think, Grizel?”

“Let’s go and ask Mademoiselle. It’s a splendid idea, Jo! If only Juliet could come, we should be all here at once, for Stephanie would come too. And as so many of us are leaving this term, I don’t suppose we’ll get another opportunity to be all together again.”

They trooped off to the flower garden, where the staff were taking their ease in deck-chairs, and Jo proffered her request.

“I am glad you like the idea,” said Mademoiselle, smiling as she looked at their eager faces. “I have already written to our dear girls, and they are all coming, so Friday, Saturday, and Sunday we will make a little fete.”

Jo swung off her hat, and waved it above her head. “Three cheers of Mademoiselle!” she cried. “Come along, all of you!”

They cheered with a vim which made outsiders look towards the long fence that shut them out from public view and inquire of each other what was happening at the school. Then, seeing that the staff probably wanted their free time to themselves, Grizel herded the noisy group away, and they went discussing the unexpected holiday in all its aspects. “It won’t be quite like old times, though,” said Grizel with a sigh to Jo, when they were alone a little later on. “Madame will not be with us.”

Jo followed the direction of her gaze towards the Sonnalpe, and nodded. “No; but you can tell her all about it when you go up for the week-end.”

Grizel looked at her curiously. “Jo! Don’t you mind our going without you?”

Jo shook her head sturdily. “Of course I don’t. I’ve had a week with her – or five days, anyway. Of course, I haven’t seen much of her; but I’ve been there, anyway. And I shall see lots of her later on!”

“And I sha’n't,” sighed Grizel. “I’m dreading Florence, Joey. I feel as if I should never come back, once I get there!”

“That’s rot,” said Jo. “Of course you will! You might as well say that when I go to Belsornia to be with Elisaveta I shall never come back! But I jolly well shall! I’ll always come in the hols. -and so must you!”

“It’s different for you, Jo. You’re sisters; I’m only a friend!”

Jo’s black eyes grew soft. “You’ve been a good friend, Grizel. We’ll want you, and you must come. Think of all we’ve done together.”

Grizel turned away once more, and looked up at the beautiful mountain on the other side of the lake.

“We’ve been in some tight places, you and I,” pursued Jo. “That makes us more than just ordinary friends, Griselda, my lamb.”

“I’m glad you look on it like that, Jo. Oh, I’ll come if I can! I don’t often yarn, but you know how much I owe Madame and the Chalet School! It’s been home to me these last four years.”

“It can he home to you still,” said Jo. “There’s Evadne on the yell for us! What does she want now?”

Evadne came racing over the grass to them, shrieking their names as she came. “Gri-zel – Joey! Come on and play tennis! Rosalie’s bagged the end court, and we’re waiting!”

The two ran, glad on the whole for this interruption. Neither of them was in the habit of discussing her feelings, and both felt a little awkward about it, now that it was over. A fast set of tennis was just the thing they wanted.

It was also the thing they got. Rosalie was a steady player, and Evadne was brilliant on occasion, with a service which could be untakeable at times. Grizel was promising to he more than average, and Jo played a good average game, with odd flashes of inspiration and an uncanny gift for placing her balls, which made her a difficult opponent when she used it, as she did this evening. The set finished, leaving Rosalie and Evadne as the victors with a score of nine-seven to their credit. Every point had been hotly contested, and the winners had only just got their two games, and that was all.

“We’re jolly good, aren’t we?” said Jo most immodestly, as they walked together to the games-shed to put away the balls. “That last service of yours was a brute, Evvy! I couldn’t do a thing with it!”

“No one ever called you conceited, did they?” teased Rosalie. “Upon my word, Jo, to hear you, anyone would think you were Butty Nuthall, Suzanne, and Helen Wills all rolled into one!”

Jo laughed. “I didn’t mean it
quite
like that! But you must own that we aren’t bad for school-girls, anyhow!”

“You’d be a good deal better if you’d only think what you were doing all the time instead of only occasionally,” Grizel told her severely. “You can play decently when you try, but half the time you simply make wild swipes at the ball, and send it into the net or out of the court.”

Jo did not look very much disturbed at this stricture, but she said as they hung the balls-net up, “Well, anyhow, you are awfully good, and Rosalie’s as steady as old Time! We ought to have a very decent four this term!”

Then the bell rang for
Abendessen
, and they went in to struggle for a place at the Splasheries, and make themselves tidy.

ON THE FRIDAY Wanda von Eschenau and her betrothed arrived at three o’clock in the afternoon.

Gisela, Bernhilda, and Bette had come up in the morning, and Stephanie from Lauterbach had walked to school in time for prayers. There were lessons for half the morning, then all work was at an end. A message had been sent down to Herr Anserl to say that the girls would not be having music lessons that afternoon, and Grizel, at any rate, had heaved a deep sigh of relief. “Thank goodness! I’ve scarcely looked at my Bach, and what I know about those Scriabin preludes would go into a nutshell! I must get up early and have a go at them tomorrow, for he’ll expect them to be almost perfect by Tuesday. Still that’s five days off!”