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Authors: Last Term at Malory Towers

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'Good gracious!' she said, in an astounded voice. Look here - your hair-pins, Mam'zelle - in a cushion !or you!'

The sixth-formers couldn't believe their eyes. How could Mam'zelle's hair-pins appear miraculously up the chimney, when nobody had gone near the chimney to put them there? And what had made the hissing noise?

'Anyone got a torch?' said Alicia. 'Hallo - the hissing has stopped.'

So it had. The pellet was exhausted. The snake had fallen into the finest of fine powder. When Alicia switched on the torch and shone it up on the little chimney-shelf, there was absolutely nothing to be seen.

Mam'zelle was very angry. She raged and stormed. 'Ah, non, non, nonY she cried. 'It is not good of you, Alicia, this! Are you not the sixth form? C'est abominable] What behaviour! First you take all my hair-pins, then you put them in a cushion, then you hide them up the chimney, and you HEEEEESS!'

'We didn't hiss, Mam'zelle,' protested Darrell 'ft wasn't us hissing. And how could we do all that without you seeing us?'

But Mam'zelle evidently thought they were quite capable of doing such miraculous things, and was perfectly certain Alicia or someone had played her a most complicated trick. She snatched at the pin-cushion and threw it violently into the waste-paper basket.

'Abominable!' she raged. 'ABOMINABLE!'

The door opened in the middle of all this and in came Nora, looking as if she could hardly control herself. She was just in time to hear Mam'zelle's yells and see her fling the pin-cushion into the basket. She almost exploded with joy and delight. So the trick had worked!

'Oh, excuse me, Mam'zelle,' she said, politely, smiling at the excited French mistress, 'but have you got a book of Miss Parker's in your desk?'

Mam'zelle was a little soothed by the sight of one of her favourites. She patted her bun to see ii it was still there, plus its hair-pins, and tried to control herself. 'Wait now - I will see,' she said, and opened the desk. As June had carefully put a book of Miss Parker's there, in readiness, she had no difficulty in finding it.

And Nora, of course, had no difficulty in holding the magnet close to Mam'zelle's unfortunate bun! The sixth form saw what she was doing and gasped audibly. The cheek! Twice in one lesson! And had the hissing and the cushion been all part of the same trick? Alicia's mind began to work furiously. How had they done it, the clever little monkeys?

Nora had plenty of time to slip the little wetted pellet on the ledge that held the blackboard against the wall, and to place the tiny pin-cushion in front of it, well hidden behind the board. She managed to do this without being seen, as the lid of the desk hid her for a moment, when Mam'zelle opened it to look inside.

Nora took the book thankfully and fled, bursting into gulps and snorts of laughter as she staggered down the corridor. Miss Potts met her and regarded her with suspicion. Now what had Nora been up to?

Nora had hardly shut the door when a familiar sensation came over Mam'zelle's head - her hair was coming down. Her bun was uncoiling! In horror she put up her hand and wailed aloud.

'Here it is again - my pins are vanished and gone - my bun, he descends!'

The girls dissolved into laughter, Mam'zelle's face of horror was too comical for words. Suzanne laughed so much that she fell off her chair to the floor. Mam'zelle rose in wrath.

'You! Suzanne! Why do you laugh so? Is it you who Dave played this treek?'

'Non, Mam'zelle, nortl I laugh only because it is so :;iggy-hoo-leeE:EFARR!' almost wept Suzanne.

Mam'zelle was about to send Suzanne out o! the

room, when she stopped. The hissing had begun again! There ir was. 'Ssssssssssss-ssss!'

'This is too much/ said Mam'zelle, distracted, trying in vain to pin her bun up without any pins. 'It is that snake again. Alicia, look up the chimney.'

'It's not coming from the chimney this time/ said Alicia, puzzled. 'Listen, Mam'zelle. I'm sure it's not.'

They all listened. 'SSSSSSSSSSS!' went the noise merrily. The girls looked at one another. Really, the second-formers were jolly clever - but how dared they do all this? Darrell and Alicia grimly made up their minds to have quite a lot to say to Felicity and June after this.

'Ssss-SSSS-sss!'

'It's coming from behind you, Mam'zelle, I'm sure it is,' cried Moira, suddenly. Mam'zelle gave an anguished shriek and propelled herself forward so violently that she fell over the waste-paper basket. She quite thought a snake was coming at her from behind.

Alicia shot out of her seat and went to Mam'zelle's desk, while Darrell and Sally helped Mam'zelle up. 'It's somewhere here,' muttered Alicia, hunting. 'What can it be that hisses like that?'

She tracked the noise to the ledge that held the blackboard. Cautiously she put her hand behind - and drew out another little cushion full of pins! The sixth form gaped again! Mam'zelle sank down on a chair and moaned.

'There are my pins once more,' she said. 'But who took them from my bun, who put them in that cushion? There is some invisible person in the room. Ahhhhhhh!'

There was nothing to be seen behind the blackboard at all. Once more the snake had dissolved into fine powder, and the hissing had stopped. The girls began to laugh helplessly again. Moira hissed just behind Mam'zelle and poor Mam'zelle leaped up as if she had been shot. Suzanne promptly fell off her chair again

with laughing.

The door opened and everyone jumped. Miss Potts walked in. 'Is everything all right?' she enquired, puzzled at the scene that met her eyes. 'Such peculiar noises came from here as I passed.'

Suzanne got up from the floor. The others stopped laughing. Alicia put the pin-cushion down on the desk. Mam'zelle sat down once more, trying to put up her hair.

'You don't mean to say you've lost your hair-pins again, Mam'zelle!' said Miss Potts. 'Your hair's all down.'

Mam'zelle found her voice. She poured out an excited tirade about snakes filling the corners of the room and hissing at her, about cushions appearing full of pins, about hair-pins vanishing from her hair, and then returned to the snakes once more, and began all over again.

'You come with me, Mam'zelle,' said Miss Potts soothingly. 'I'll come back and deal with this. Come along. You shall put your hair up again and you'll feel better.'

T go to have it cut off/ said Mam'zelle. '1 go now, Miss Potts. This very instant. 1 tell you, Miss Potts . . .'

But what else she told Miss Potts the sixth-formers didn't know. They sank down on their chairs and laughed again. Those wicked second-formers! Even Alicia had to admit that they had done a very, very clever job!

If

A iUck lor Given

Nobody ticked off the second-formers after all. The sixth agreed that they had had such a wonderful laugh that afternoon that it wasn't really fair to row them. 'It was just what I needed, after that nightmare week of exams,' said Darrell. 'Poor Mam'zelle. She's recovered now, but those wicked little second-formers hiss whenever they walk behind her - and she runs like a hare.'

'They're worse than we ever were,' said Alicia. 'And I shouldn't have thought that was possible!'

Now the term began to slide by very quickly indeed. Darrell could hardly catch at the days as they went by. Matches were played and won. Swimming tournaments were held - and won! Moria, Sally and Darrell played brilliantly and swam well - but the star was June, of course. She was in the second teams for swimming and tennis, the youngest that had ever played in them or swum.

Amanda, still hobbling about, was very proud of June. 'You see! I picked her out, and I told you she was the most promising girl in the school!' she said, exultantly, to the sixth-formers. 'She'll pay for watching and training, that child. She's marvellous!'

Sally and Darrell looked across at one another. What a different Amanda this was now. It had been decided that as she couldn't possibly be allowed to train for any games or sports for at least a year, she should stay on at Malory Towers. And now that Amanda could no longer centre her attention on her own skill and prowess she was centring it on June, and other promising youngsters. Already she had made a great difference to the standard of games among them.

'] shall be able to keep an eye on June, and on one or two others,' went on Amanda, happily. 'I'm sorry you're all leaving, though. It'll be strange without you. Won't you be sorry to go?'

'Gwen's the only one who will be glad to leave Malory Towers,' said Darrell. 'None of the others will - even though we've got college to go to - and Belinda's going to a school of art, and Irene to the Guildhall.'

'And Bill and I to our riding school,' said Clarissa, and Moira . . .'

'Oh dear,' said Darrell, interrupting. 'Let's not talk about next term yet. Let's have our last week or two still thinking we're coming back next term. We've had a lot of tips and downs this term - now let's enjoy ourselves.'

They all did - except for one girl. That was Gwen. A black afternoon came for her, one she never forgot. It came right out of the blue, when she least expected it.

Matron came to find her in the common-room. Gwen,' she said, in rather a grave voice, 'will you go to Miss Grayling's room? There is someone there to see you.'

Gwen was startled. Who would come and see her so near the end of term? She went down at once. She was amazed to see Miss Winter, her old governess, sitting timidly on a chair opposite Miss Grayling.

'Why - Miss Winter!' said Gwen, astonished. Miss Winter got up and kissed her.

'Oh, Gwen,' she said, 'oh, Gwen!' and immediately burst into tears. Gwen looked at her in alarm.

Miss Grayling spoke. 'Gwen. Miss Winter brings bad news, I'm afraid. She . . .'

'Gwen, it's your father!' said Miss Winter, dabbing her eyes. 'He's been taken dreadfully ill. He's gone to hospital. Oh, Gwen, your mother told me this morning,

that he won't live!'

Gwen felt as it somebody had take;] her heart right out of her body. She sat down blindly on a chair and stared at Miss Winter.

'Have you - have you come to fetch me to see him?' she said, with an effort. 'Shall 1 be - in time?'

'Oh, you can't see him,' wept Miss Winter. 'He is much, much too ill. He wouldn't know you. I've come to fetch you home to your mother. She's in such a state, Gwen. I can't do anything with her, not a thing! Can you pack and come right away?'

This was a terrible shock to Gwen - her father ill - her mother desperate - and she herself to leave in a hurry. Then another thought came to her and she groaned.

This would mean no school in Switzerland. In a moment her whole future loomed up before her, not bright and shining with happiness in a delightful new school, but black and full of endless, wearisome jobs for a hysterical mother, full of comfortings for a complaining woman - and with no steady, kindly father in the backgrou nd.

When she thought of her father Gwen covered her eyes in shame and remorse. 'I never even said good-bye!' she cried out loudly, startling Miss Winter and Miss Grayling. 'I never - even - said - good-bye! And I didn't write when I knew he was ill. Now it's too late.'

Too late! What dreadful words. Too late to say she was sorry, too late to be loving, too late to be good and kind.

'1 said cruel things, I hurt him - oh, Miss Winter, why didn't you stop trie?' cried Gwen, her face white and her eyes tearless. Tears had always been so easy to Gwen - but now they wouldn't come. Miss Winter looked back at her, not daring to remind Gwen how she had pleaded with her to show a little kindness and not to force her own way so much.

'Gwen, dear - I'm very sorry about this,' said Miss Grayling's kind voice. I think you should go and pack now, because Miss Winter wants to catch the next train back. Your mother needs you and you must go. Gwen - vou haven't always been all you should be. Now is your chance to show that there is something more in you than we guess.'

Gwen stumbled out of the room. Miss Winter followed to help her to pack. Miss Grayling sat and thought. Somehow punishment always caught up with people, if they had deserved it, just as happiness sooner or later caught up with people who had earned it. You sowed your own seeds and reaped the fruit you had sowed. If only every girl could learn that, thought Miss Grayling, there wouldn't be nearly so much unhappiness in the world!

Darrell came into the dormy as Gwen was packing. She was crying now, her tears almost blinding her.

'Gwen - what's the matter?' said Darrell.

'Oh, Darrell - my father's terribly ill - he's not going to live,' wept Gwen. 'Oh, Darrell, please forget all the horrible, horrible things I've said this term. If only he'd live and f had the chance to make up to him for the beast I've been, I'd do everything he wanted - take the dullest, miserablest job in the world, and give up everything else. But it's too late!'

Darrell was shocked beyond words. She put her arm round Gwen, not knowing what to say. Miss Winter spoke timidly. 'We really must catch that train, Gwen dear. Is this all you have to pack?'

'I'll pack her trunk and see it's sent on,' said Darrell, glad to be able to offer to do something. 'Just take a few things, Gwen. in your nightcase.'

She went with Gwen to the front door, miserable for her. What a dreadful way to leave Malory Towers! Poor Gwen! All her fine hopes and dreams blown away like smoke. And those awful words - too late! How dreadlul Gwen must feel when she remembered her unkindness. Miss Grayling saw her off too, and shut the door quietly after the car had gone down the drive.

'Don't be too miserable about it,' she said to Darrell. 'It may be the making of Gwen. Don't let it spoil your last week or two, Darrell dear!'

Darrell gave the surprised Miss Grayling a sudden hug, and then wondered how in the world she dared to do such a thing! She went to tell the news to the others.

It cast a gloom on everyone, of course, though many thought secretly that Gwen deserved it. Gwen had no real friends and never had had. She had grumbled and groaned and wept and boasted her way through her years at Malory Towers, and left only unpleasant memories behind. But Sally, Darrell, Mary-Lou and one or two others tried to think kindly of her because of her great trouble.

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