04 The Head Girl of the Chalet School (9 page)

“It isn’t here,” said Gertrud at length, when the most consistent search had proved that, wherever the missing book was, it wasn’t in the room. She spoke in low tones out of consideration for the other two, and they never heard her.

“Where on earth can it be?” said Grizel, a puzzled frown on her face. “I’m
sure
I put it into my locker, because I remember I had finished all my harmony for Herr Anserl, and I put it there to be ready for Monday. If I bring it up here, I nearly always forget to take it to my lesson, and nothing makes him madder than to wait while I go and fetch it. As they were ghastly exercises, all on suspended ninths, I thought it would be as well not to make him more furious than I could help. I wasn’t too sure of any of them. I
know
I put it there with my music; and now it’s gone!”

“Perhaps it has fallen out and been put into lost property,” suggested Gertrud.

“It might. I’ll go and see. Who has the key? Whose week is it?”

“Deira’s,” said Gertrud, after a glance at the neatly written list on the notice board.

Grizel turned to Deira. “I beg your pardon, Deira,” she said, “but may I have the key to lost property?”

“It’s hanging up beside the board there,” mumbled Deira, not looking up from her book.

Grizel, thinking that Deira was still angry over yesterday, took no notice of her manner, but got the key and went off. Gertrud did, however, and remained where she was, looking at the Irish girl with a frown. Grizel came back in five minutes’ time, empty-handed, and hung up the key on its nail. “No; it wasn’t there,” she said. “I can’t imagine where it can have got to.”

“What are you looking for?” asked Vanna, who had roused out of her letter by this time, and was taking an interest in proceedings.

“My harmony book. You haven’t seen it, by any chance?”

“No; not since you had it on Friday,” said Vanna. “But harmony, Grizel?”

“It’s the book I want. There’s an old letter in it – that’s all.”

At this Deira started and went white.

Gertrud noticed it. “Deira, have you seen Grizel’s book?” she asked.

Deira faced her and remained silent. She hardly dared tell the truth, and she could not lie over the matter.

Grizel’s attention was now attracted to her. “Deira! Do you know where it is?” she asked sharply.

“Not now,” said Deira, almost inaudibly.

“Not now? What on earth d’you mean?” demanded Grizel impatiently.

Her impatience had one good effect. It made Deira speak up. “I meant what I said. I haven’t the least idea where it is at this moment. On the ash-heap, I should think.”

“The ash-heap? What on earth are you talking about?” Grizel had gone paler, and her eyes were beginning to look steely.

“Well, isn’t that where the ashes are thrown?” Deira spoke defiantly, but inwardly she was feeling anything but defiant.

“Ashes? D’you mean you’ve burnt it?” Grizel was white now, and her lips were set in a thin straight line.

She looked suddenly older, and Deira felt frightened at this result of her own temper. However, she wasn’t going to let Grizel Cochrane know it, so she shrugged her shoulders.

“If you know, why ask?”

“You’ve
burnt
it?” repeated Grizel, as if she could scarcely believe her ears.

“Yes, I’ve burnt it! I vowed I’d make you pay for your sarcasm yesterday, and I have! It’s fine and early you’ll have to be getting up tomorrow, if you want to get that harmony done again before your lesson, Grizel Cochrane!”

“Deira! But how
could
you?” cried Gertrud. “It was a wicked thing to do! And you have burnt Grizel’s letter too! Her letter that she cherished!”

“Oh, dry up!” said Grizel impatiently. “What does it matter about the letter now it’s gone? As for the book, Deira O’Hagan, what right had you to bum school property to satisfy your silly temper? Of all the childish things to do, I must say that strikes me as
the
most childish I’ve ever heard of! The Robin wouldn’t do a mad thing like that! Oh, I sha’n't tell!” with unutterable scorn in her voice. “You needn’t be afraid of
that
-”

“I’m not afraid!” retorted Deira. “If it comes to that, I’ll tell myself!”

“Yes; I can see you!” Grizel was realising her loss, and her hot temper boiled up. “Dash off to Mademoiselle’s room now, and tell her that you lost your temper, and did a thoroughly childish, spiteful thing like that just to work it off! I can see you!”

“I will! Do you suppose I care for you, Grizel Cochrane?” raged Deira.

“Girls! What does this mean?” Miss Maynard had come into the room after vainly rapping for admittance, since everyone was too much interested in what was going on to heed anything else.

At the mistress’s words Gertrud looked distressed, and Vanna frightened. Grizel uttered a scornful laugh and turned away. Deira, stung to utter fury by that laugh, sprang forward. “I have been after telling Grizel Cochrane what I think of her, Miss Maynard,” she exploded, becoming more and more Irish as she went on.

“‘Tis not meself would be afraid of her, for all the haughty airs of her. And, since actions spake louder than words, I been telling her ’tis I have burnt her harmony book!”

“You’ve –
what
?” exclaimed Miss Maynard, startled out of her usual self-possession by this remarkable statement.

“I’ve burnt her harmony book,” repeated Deira, still too angry to care what happened.

“
Deira
! Have you taken leave of your senses?”

Deira treated this as if it had never been uttered and swept on, “‘Tis not meself’ll be submitting to the tyranny of her, be she fifty times head-girl here, and so I’ve shown her! She may he English – the curse of Cromwell on thim all!” (this last with a sudden hazy remembrance of her old nurse) – “but I’m Irish, and there’s niver a one of us fears the tyrant-”

But by this time Miss Maynard had recovered herself, and she interrupted what promised to be a long harangue on the wrongs of Ireland. “Deira, leave the room at once- at once! Go to your dormitory, and don’t leave it till I give you permission!”

Deira glared at her, but Miss Maynard was to be obeyed, and the look the excited girl received from the mistress helped to cool her down considerably. She turned and left the room without another word. Miss Maynard waited till she had gone, and then attended to Grizel. “Grizel, will you kindly explain to me the meaning of this
disgraceful
scene? What has happened between you, and Deira?”

Grizel shook her head. Tell tales she would not; also, she was too angry to speak.

Seeing how matters stood, Miss Maynard turned to Gertrud. “Gertrud, you seem to have kept your head.

Will you please tell me what all this is about – and at once?”

“Grizel and Deira had quarrelled,” said Gertrud, after a moment’s pause. “Deira has burnt Grizel’s harmony.”

“Is this really true? She really has done such a childish thing?”

“Yes, Madame, she says she has.” Poor Gertrud felt miserable over the whole thing.

Miss Maynard stood in silence for a moment. “Why has she done this, Grizel?”

“Deira didn’t like all the arrangements yesterday,” mumbled Grizel at last, when she had kept the mistress waiting as long as she dared. “I made her angry, and this is to pay me out, I suppose.”

“How did you make her angry?”

“I – said things.”

Miss Maynard forbore to question further. She sent Grizel off downstairs to the others, and managed to get a more detailed account from Vanna and Gertrud. She got more than she had bargained for; for Vanna, thoroughly frightened, told about the precious letter that must have gone, too, and this helped to explain Grizel’s attitude. When the young mistress had finally got everything there was to get she told the girls to go back to their pursuits, and went off to Mademoiselle to report to her the latest occurrence in the school.

“And now, what are we to do?” she asked when she had finished.

Poor Mademoiselle put her hand to her head. “I cannot think. I only wish our dear Marguerite had never left us and got married. How to deal with this extraordinary happening I do not know. Deira must be punished, of course, but I fear that will do little good. It will not make her really repentant for what she has done, nor will it return the letter. As for what Herr Anserl will say when he hears about the harmony, I shudder to think!”

“He’ll roar, I suppose,” agreed Miss Maynard, meaning it in its most unpleasant sense. “He always is noisy over things like that. But Grizel certainly can’t get all that work done over again in time. As for Deira, I think she must have gone mad! Of all idiotic things to do, that strikes me as the most idiotic!”

“Doubtless, my dear Mollie,” replied Mademoiselle dryly; “but that will not help us in dealing with the matter. Here comes Marie with the coffee. We had better try to forget it for the time being, and take our rest while we can. As for Deira, she had better stay by herself. Will you go and ask Matron to put her in the sickroom for the rest of today. She will be better left alone, I think, till she has had time to realise what she has done.
Entrez
, Marie!”

“HERE’S MADAME, AT LAST!” The cry came from Grizel, who had been anxiously watching the mountain path along which their head-mistress must come to reach the school. Things were uncomfortable, and had been since that memorable Sunday when Deira had revenged herself by burning the head-girl’s harmony. Deira had been allowed to join the rest of the school the next day, but she kept by herself, obviously miserable, and speaking to no one.

“What to do, I know not,” said Mademoiselle, speaking to a conclave of Miss Maynard, Miss Durrant, who was the junior mistress, and Miss Wilson, who taught general subjects.

“We had better send for Madame, I think,” said Miss Wilson thoughtfully.

Miss Maynard shook her head. “I don’t think we ought to bother her, if we can help it. The Sonnalpe is a good way away for a tramp in this weather” – it was snowing heavily, and threatening to become a blizzard before long- “the paths won’t be safe. Also, I do think we ought to settle our own difficulties, if we can.”

“What I cannot comprehend is Deira’s behaviour,” said Mademoiselle plaintively. “She has a temper, but it is strange that she should cling to a grievance like this. I have not known it happen before.”

“It’s the Spanish blood in her coming out,” said Miss Maynard easily.

Luckily for them all, Mrs. Russell sent a message by Eigen, the boy who helped with the rough work at Die Blumen, her chalet beyond the Sonnalpe, to say that she was coming down to see Joey, so the matter had been shelved for the time being. Deira found herself left severely alone by the others, and Grizel, anxious to do her best to prove to “Madame” that she had been justified in her forgiveness by being an excellent head-girl, had worried from morning till night about the trouble in the school. She had done what she could to set matters right. She spoke to the Irish girl as nicely as if she had done nothing – which further enraged Deira, who was under the impression that Grizel’s attitude meant that she didn’t care – and fulfilled all her duties as carefully as she could. Joey even accused her of becoming old-maidish, but Grizel was too much taken up with her own concerns to trouble about what an impertinent young person of fifteen said.

When at length the day Mrs. Russell had fixed for her coming arrived, Grizel spent all her spare time at the window, watching. Joey and the Robin joined her half-way through break, and the three of them were in the prefects’ room, staring up the valley, when the head-girl’s joyful exclamation told them that their expected visitor was coming. Joey promptly tumbled off her perch on the back of a chair, and made for the door, an example closely followed by the Robin. Grizel waited by herself. Slowly, very slowly, she was beginning to see things from other people’s point of view, and she knew that the three would prefer to have their first meeting in privacy.

As it happened, they were all doomed to disappointment, for the bell rang just then, and all three had to go to classes. The Robin heaved a sigh, and trotted off to her own quarters at Le Petit Chalet, the junior house.

Joey turned aside from the passage, and went to her form-room, where she proceeded to display the most remarkable ignorance of the doings of Louis the Ninth and his Crusaders; and Grizel went down to the Sixth, and tried to forget her troubles in German literature and “Wilhelm Meister.”

Meantime the person so eagerly looked for came up to the gate, which had been built into the high log fence which cut off the school from the rest of the peninsula, opened it, and went quietly up the snowy path to the house, where she was welcomed by Mademoiselle, who drew her into the little room still known as

“Madame’s study,” and rang the bell for Luise, the little maid, to bring Kaffee und Brodchen. Luise, whose sister Marie had been at the chalet prior to Mrs. Russell’s wedding, and had now gone to the Sonnalpe to be with her there, trotted off, all beams, and while she fulfilled her commands the two ladies discussed the weather, which had now cleared, and Dr. Jem’s work.

“Oh, but it’s good to be back, Elise!” sighed Mrs. Russell, leaning back in her chair and looking round the familiar room with tender eyes. “I am as happy as can be at the Sonnalpe, but I do miss my girls at times.”

“But you are happy
, ma Mie
?” queried Mademoiselle. “You would not be without
Monsieur le Docteur
?”

Madge shook her head. “Oh, no! But the Chalet School is part of me still. You don’t know how much I sometimes wish I could be in both places at once! If only Jem could have built his sanatorium down here it would have been ideal. But the Sonnalpe is better for his work, and – and I wouldn’t really change, even to be Madge Bettany of the Chalet School again.”

Luise entered at this moment with the little meal, and the two joined in it and more school gossip till the bell rang for the end of morning school. Then Mademoiselle rose, “You will excuse that I run away,
ma
petite
. There are one or two little things to which I must attend before
Mittagessen
. I will send Jo to you.”