04 The Head Girl of the Chalet School (3 page)

At once “the Stuffer,” as naughty Jo christened her, bounced up and pulled the window up again. “I shall complain to the company!” she thundered.

The noise woke the Robin, who began to cry, partly from fright, partly because her head was aching from the unaccustomed close atmosphere in which she had been sleeping, and a big hairy professor from next door came to request that they would hush the child and cease their conversations and
Kaffeeklatschen
, as he and his comrades wished to sleep.

In a few words Jo explained the situation – Miss Maynard was too busy hushing the wailing Robin. The professor heard her to the end; then he made his way into their compartment, banged down the window to its fullest extent, with various objurgations about “women fools” who lived in an oven-like atmosphere, and retired to his own place, leaving the two ladies gasping and breathless, Miss Maynard on the verge of wild laughter, and Jo – Grizel slept through all this! – staring with round black eyes.

“Joey, do you know who that was?” asked Miss Maynard, when finally she had recovered her self-control.

“Not an earthly,” replied Jo. “He hasn’t much opinion of women, has he?”

“He was like Fazere Christmas,” observed the Robin, now calmed and happy.

“It was Professor Christian von der Witt of Wien,” said Miss Maynard. “He is a fresh-air fiend – sleeps in his garden all the year round, I believe. Now, Robin, I am going to tuck you in again, and you must go off to sleep like a good
Madchen
.”

“Yes,” responded the Robin drowsily; “it is so nice – now – the air – is – com-ing-”

She dropped off with the last word, and Miss Maynard left her after a final tucking in of the big rug that was wrapped round her. She went back to her own seat after making sure that the soundly sleeping Grizel was warm enough, and settled Joey. Then she turned to the other two. “I regret that I must ask you to leave this other window alone,” she said. “If you will roll your rugs round you as the girls and I do, I am sure you will find that you are quite warm enough.”

“Maria,” who seemed to be a peaceable enough soul if left to herself, promptly got up, and proceeded to make a woolly cocoon of herself with two rugs. “The Stuffer” snorted, and pulled up her rugs to her chin.

Then silence settled down over them all, and Miss Maynard presently fell asleep.

She was awakened two hours later by the most extraordinary grunting. She opened her eyes and found that

“the Stuffer” was struggling with the window once more. Her efforts were vain, for when Professor von der Witt had banged that window down, he had done it with such force that it required more than the strength of an elderly lady to loosen it and pull it up again. The young mistress had realised this, which was why she had left it alone. Otherwise, she would have preferred it not to be quite so far open.

Her movement as she sat up made “the Stuffer” realise that she was caught, and she turned round, saying with what dignity she could, “I am trying to close this window a little. It is very cold indeed, and I am sure the little girl – she cast a glance at the Robin’s lovely little face, flushed with sleep- “should not be lying in such a draught.”

She looked cold enough, for her long nose-end was pinched and blue, and her teeth were inclined to chatter. Miss Maynard suddenly felt remorseful for the struggle which had ended in the window’s being stuck like this. She got up cautiously so as not to wake Jo, and went up to the poor lady. “I’m afraid we can do nothing with the window,” she said in carefully lowered tones. “The Professor banged it down so hard that it will take a man’s strength to pull it up again. But I have some hot coffee in a thermos. If you will let me give you some and roll you up in your rugs as I rolled up the children, I think you will soon find yourself warm again.”

“The Stuffer” gave in. She agreed to let Miss Maynard tuck her into her rugs and doctor her with hot coffee which had a tiny drop of brandy in it to warm her through, and at length dropped off to sleep, comfortable, as she had not been before on the journey.

At four o’clock the collector came for their tickets, but after that there were no more interruptions till at a quarter to five an attendant came along announcing that they were nearly into Basle, and would arrive there in ten minutes’ time. Moving as quietly as she could, Miss Maynard woke up Joey and Grizel, and bade them get ready to leave the train. The Robin she left. It would he better if they could get her to the pension where they were going without waking her at all. The elder girls quickly and deftly put their things together, rolling up rugs, and strapping them with a neatness and precision which told of experience in journeys.

“Maria” and her friend woke up, and watched them curiously.

“Do you live in this place – Basle?” asked “the Stuffer.”

“Oh, no,” said Joey, seeing that Miss Maynard was busy with the cases; “we live at Briesau am Tiernsee, but we are breaking the journey here to see Basle. We’ve been home with Maynie for the hols.,” she added lucidly. “School begins in ten days’ time.”

“Are you at school at – at this place with the outlandish name, then?” asked the lady.

Joey nodded. “Yes; but my sister lives across the lake at Sonnalpe, and the Robin’s father lives there too.”

At this point the train slackened speed, and ran into the deserted station, where only the flaring lights and a few sleepy-eyed porters spoke of the life that thronged it through the day. Miss Maynard leaned out of the window, and summoned one to come and get their things, while she herself picked up the Robin, who slept on serenely through it all, and Joey and Grizel took their rugs.

As they were leaving the compartment “the Stuffer” plucked at Jo’s arm and thrust: a card on her. “This is my card,” she said. “I should like to hear about your school. Will you write to this address and tell me about it? And, my dear, please tell that nice young lady who showed me how to arrange my rugs and gave me the coffee that I have been warm ever since.”

“Of course,” said Joey, “you can get coffee here, I know. Shall I ask one of the porters to fetch you some –and some sandwiches? They are
topping
!”

“Thank you. I shall be obliged,” was the reply.

Jo had to go then, but she did not forget her promise, and presently the two ladies were drinking hot coffee and eating delicious rolls sliced down and filled with meat, and feeling that travelling by night was not so had after all.

As for the other four, they were whisked to their pension, where a drowsy night-porter let them in, and they were shown up to their rooms, where they all went straight to bed, and slept till noon.

JOEY was the first to wake. She swept up her lashes and sat up in bed, wide awake in a moment. Then she looked across to where Grizel lay, still fast asleep in the bed in the corner. She looked very pretty as she lay there, her cheeks rose-flushed with sleep, and her long brown curls scattered over the pillow. But aesthetic sights were not in Miss Bettany’s mind at the moment. Moving quietly, she lifted her pillow, stood up in bed to get a surer aim, and then hurled it well on to Grizel’s face.

That young lady sat up with a muffled howl, wildly clearing curls and sleep-mists out of her eyes while the pillow fell to the floor. “Joey Bettany! You little brute! And I was having such a gorgeous dream!”

“Time you were beyond dreams, my dear!” retorted Joey, curling herself up on the bed, and hauling the
plumeau
round her shoulders. “It’s midday! Nearly time for
Mittagessen
! Get up, you lazy object!”

“Lazy object yourself!” said Grizel indignantly. “You’ve only just wakened yourself! I know you, Jo Bettany! And if you hurl any more things at me I’ll yell the house down!”

“Funk – cry-baby – cowardy, cowardy custard!” jeered Joey.

“I’m not! But I’m not going to have you chucking things round the room like that. I say! there’s someone coming – chamber-maid or something! Cave!”

Joey made a wild dive, and when the round-checked Gretchen came in bearing rolls and honey and coffee on a tray for the two, she found them both lying very properly in bed, though, to be sure, the younger fraulein did not seem to have any pillow, and the other one had two!

When she had gone, Joey sat up, and demanded her pillow back again.

“No fear! ” retorted Grizel. “You chucked it at me most brutally, so now you may do without! It’s no good coming and scrapping for it, for you’ll only upset the coffee if you do, and then there’ll be a row! Stop it, Joey! You’ll have the tray all over the bed if you go on like this!”

“Give me my pillow, then!” retorted Jo, hauling away at it with such goodwill that she finally succeeded in getting it out from under Grizel’s shoulders, nearly upsetting the tray and its contents as she did so. With a cry of triumph she darted back to her own bed and
Fruhstuck
.

“Pig!” said Grizel indignantly. “You are a little horror, Joey!”

“Hurry up and get on,” was the only answer Joey vouchsafed as she devoured her rolls and honey, and drank the bowl of milky coffee which she appreciated far more than the tea she had in England.

Seeing nothing else to do, Grizel did as Joey suggested, and presently they were dressed in their pretty frocks, so that when Miss Maynard came, as she imagined, to waken them, they were standing at the window, looking out at the quiet street below, ready dressed. They turned as she entered.

“
Gruss Gott
,” said Joey, with the charming Tyrolean greeting which she loved so. “Oh, Maynie! just look at those darling dogs!”

Miss Maynard laughed as she crossed the room, and looked out of the window at the sight she had expected to see – a low-wheeled cart with big milk-can slung across it, and drawn by two big dogs, who were padding sedately along as if they knew how important was their charge. The whole equipage was guarded by a small boy of about ten, who bore a long whip, which he cracked continually to encourage his steeds, not that they took any notice of either it or him. Still, it looked well, and it pleased his heart.

“Jo! You baby!” laughed Miss Maynard. “You must have seen the same thing dozens of times before this!

They do it in practically every European country! I’m sure you saw it when you were in Munich!”

“Yes; I know,” agreed Joey. “But those are such
dear
dogs – nearly as nice as my Rufus!”

“They aren’t the same breed,” said Grizel critically. “Rufus is a St. Bernard, and I don’t know what you would call those!”

“Just plain dog, I should think,” said Miss Maynard as she turned from the window. “Well, I came to call you two; but as you are ready, I will go back to Robin.
Mittagessen
is at one, but I didn’t think we should want any so soon after
Fruhstuck
. What do you say to going out now? We can get
Kaffee
at a
patisserie
, and you can make up for it at our evening meal. Do you agree?”

“Oh, rather!” cried Jo. “Where are we going first? I want to see that history museum you told us about. Can we go there?”

“If you like. I believe the Robin is longing for the Zoo. What would you like, Grizel?”

“I’d like to look at the shops and the town,” said Grizel.

“Well, we can’t do everything,” said Miss Maynard, with a little inward smile for the difference between the two girls shown in their replies to her question. “We might look at the shops and do a little shopping, and also see the Barfusser Kirche today, if you like. Then tomorrow we must give the Robin her turn, and go to the Zoo. In the afternoon I should like to see the museum in the Augustiner-gasse – that’s where the picture gallery is, Grizel, so I think you would enjoy it. Then on Thursday we might explore round the town, and see if we can see some of the old university buildings. Basle is one of the oldest university towns in Europe, you know, and any number of famous men came here during the Renaissance. What do you think of that programme? Does it meet with your approval?”

“Yes, rather,” said Joey emphatically.

But Grizel shook her head. “I do so want to go to Schaffhausen and see the Falls. Couldn’t we possibly?”

“No, Grizel,” said Miss Maynard. “I’ve already said we can’t. Please put Schaffhausen right out of your head. In any case, this not the weather to go and see waterfalls. I have told you I will take you in the summer; please let that be sufficient.”

Grizel was obliged to subside, but she was not satisfied, and Joey knew it.

“What in earth makes you so mad on the Rhine Falls, Grizel?” she asked curiously when Miss Maynard had gone off to help the Robin to dress. “You are an ass to fuss like this. Maynie won’t go, and you ought to know it by this time. She always means what she says.”

But Grizel was a determined young lady, and when she took an idea into her head it required a good deal of dislodging. She had by no means put Schaffhausen out of her thoughts, and so Joey was to find later on.

Now, she merely requested the younger girl not to bother, and began to get into her hat and coat.

It was a cold day, colder that that day when they had been in Portsmouth, but it was a dry, bracing cold, and as they were warmly wrapped up, they looked forward to their walk. At Briesau it had to be very bad weather for the girls to be kept indoors. Of course, when they had the terrific rainstorms that sometimes came, or when the snow was whirling in a blizzard, they could not go out. But otherwise, they took walks in all weathers, So Joey and Grizel put on stout boots, and tied big scarves across their chests, and turned up the fur collars on their coats, and when they had wriggled into their warm woollen mitts, made fingerless like baby gloves, felt ready for anything. Miss Maynard and the Robin, similarly attired, met them at their door, and they all trooped downstairs, laughing and chattering.

The first thing to do was to get to the shops, for Grizel was anxious to see them, and to buy some ribbons to send to “Cooky” in her far-away Devonshire home. Cooky had always been a great ally of hers, and Grizel remembered many a kindness the big sonsy woman had shown her, and always did her best to repay.