Read First Term at Malory Towers Online
Authors: Enid Blyton
But she would, of course—and very soon too!
AFTER supper, obeying Matron's command, all the first- formers went up to their dormitory. Darrell was delighted with the room. It was long, and had windows all down the length of it, which, to Darrell's joy, overlooked the sea. She stood there, hearing the faraway sound of waves on the beach, watching the slowly moving blue sea. What a lovely place this was!
“Buck up, Dreamy!” said Alicia's voice. “Matron will be along in two ticks.”
Darrell turned. She looked at the room. It had ten beds in it, each divided from the next by a white curtain which could be drawn or pulled back as the girls wished.
Each girl had a white bed with a coloured eiderdown. The eiderdowns were different colours and made a pretty show as Darrell looked down the row of beds. In each cubicle there was a cupboard to hang things, and a chest of drawers with a mirror on top. There were washbasins with hot and cold water at each end of the room.
The girls were busy unpacking their small bags. Darrell opened hers. She shook out her nightdress. She took her face-flannel, her toothbrush and paste. A clean towel hung ready for her on a rail at the side of her chest of drawers.
“It will be fun to sleep here, with all the others,” thought Darrell. “What fun we shall have talking at night. We could have dormy games too, I should think.”
All the first-formers were in the same dormy. Alicia was there, Darrell, Sally and Gwendoline. There were six other girls besides. They stared at the three new girls as they ran to and from the washbasins, washing, and cleaning their teeth.
One of the girls looked at her watch. “Get into bed, everyone!” she ordered. She was a tall, dark girl, quiet in her manner. Everyone but Gwendoline scrambled into bed. Gwendoline was still brushing out her fine golden hair. She was counting as she brushed it.
“Fifty-four, fifty-five, fifty-six
“Hey, you new girl—what's your name—get into bed!” ordered the tall dark girl again.
“I've got to brush my hair a hundred times each night,” protested Gwendoline. “Now I've forgotten what number I got to!”
“Shut up and get into bed, Gwendoline Mary,” said Alicia, who was next to Gwendoline. “Katherine is the head of our dormy. You've got to do what she says.”
“But I promised M-M-Mo . . .” began Gwendoline, tears welling up. “I promised Mother to b-b-b-brush my hair a hundred times each night!”
“You can add the number of brushings you leave out tonight on to tomorrow night,” came the head-girl's cool voice. “Get into bed, please.”
“Oh, just let me finish!” said Gwendoline and began frantically brushing again. “Fifty-seven, fifty…”
“Shall I spank her with my brush, Katherine?” said Alicia, sitting up. Gwendoline gave a squeal and leapt into bed. The girls laughed. They all knew that Alicia had no intention of spanking Gwendoline.
Gwendoline lay down, angry. She determined to make herself miserable and cry. She thought of her mother, and her faraway home, and she began to sniff.
“Do blow your nose, Gwendoline,” said Alicia, sleepily.
“Stop talking,” said Katherine. There was silence in the room. Sally Hope gave a little sigh. Darrell wondered if she was asleep. The curtains between her bed and Sally's were pulled back. No, Sally was not asleep. She lay with her eyes wide open. There were no tears in them, but her face looked sad.
“Perhaps she's homesick,” thought Darrell, and thought of her home too. But she was too sensible to be silly about it, and too excited to be at Malory Towers to miss her home. After all, she had badly wanted to come, and here she was— and she meant to be very happy and have a lot of fun.
Matron arrived. She took a look down the beds. One or two of the girls were already fast asleep, tired out. Matron walked down the long room, twitched an eiderdown into place, turned off a dripping tap, and pulled the curtains across the windows, for it was still very light outside.
“Good night,” she said, in a low voice. “And no talking, please!”
“Good night, Matron,” murmured those girls who were not yet asleep. Darrell peeped to see if Matron's nice smile was on her face. She caught sight of Darrell's peeping eyes and nodded, smiling. “Sleep well!” she said, and went out quietly.
Gwendoline was the only one who tried to keep awake. What had Mother said to her? “You'll feel dreadful tonight, I know, darling, but be brave, won't you?”
So Gwendoline was determined to lie awake and feel dreadful. But her eyes wouldn't keep open! They shut and soon Gwendoline was as fast asleep as the others. And at home her mother was dabbing her eyes, and saying, “Poor little Gwen! I shouldn't have sent her away from me! I feel she's awake and crying her heart out!”
But Gwendoline was giving little contented snores, dreaming happily of how she would queen it over the girls here, be top of her form, and best at all games.
A loud bell awoke all the girls the next morning. At first Darrell couldn't imagine where she was. Then she heard Alicia's voice. “Get up, lazy-bones! You've got to make your bed before breakfast!”
Darrell leapt out of bed. The sun poured into the room, for Katherine had drawn the curtains back. A loud chattering began. Girls hopped across the room to the washbasins. Darrell dressed quickly, proud to put on her brown tunic with its brown-orange belt, just like all the other girls wore. She brushed her hair back and put in two slides to keep it tidy. Gwendoline left her hair loose over her shoulders.
“You can't have it like that,” said Alicia. “Not in
school
, Gwendoline!”
“I've always had it like this,” said Gwendoline, an obstinate look coming over her pretty, silly little face.
“Well, it looks awful,” said Alicia.
“It does not!” said Gwendoline. “You only say that because your hair is short and coarse.”
Alicia winked at Katherine, who was coming up. “Better let dear Gwendoline show off her long, fine-as-silk hair, don't you think so?” she said, in a bland voice. “Miss Potts might be delighted to see it like that.”
“My governess, Miss Winter, always liked it like this,” said Gwendoline, looking pleased.
“Oh—haven't you been to a school before? Have you just had a governess?” asked Alicia. “That explains a lot.”
“What does it explain?” asked Gwendoline, haughtily.
“Never mind. You'll find out,” said Alicia. “Ready, Darrell? That's the breakfast gong. Tuck your sheet in well. That's right. Gwendoline, fold up your nighty. Look at Sally—there's a new girl for you! Everything done to time, nobody's got to chivvy her round!”
Sally gave a little smile. She hardly said a word. She did not seem in the least shy, but she was so quiet and self- possessed that Darrell could hardly believe she was a new girl. She always seemed to know exactly what to do.
They all went down to the dinning-hall. The long tables were ready, and girls were already seating themselves, greeting their housemistress politely. Matron was there too, and a third grown-up, whom Darrell had not seen before.
“That's Mam'zelle Dupont,” whispered Alicia. “We've got two French mistresses at Malory Towers. One's fat and jolly and the other's thin and sour. We've got the fat and jolly one this term. They've both got simply awful tempers, so I hope you're pretty good at French.”
“Well, no, I'm not really,” said Darrell, wishing she was.
“Mam'zelle Dupont hates Mam'zelle Rougier and Mam'zelle Rougier hates Mam'zelle Dupont,” went on Alicia. “You should see the fur fly sometimes. Matron has to be sent for to calm them down when they get too bad!”
Darrell's eyes opened wide. Katherine, across the table, laughed. “Don't believe all that Alicia says,” she said. “Her tongue runs away with her sometimes. Nobody has ever seen our two Mam'zelles fly at each other's throats yet.”
“Ah, but they will one day—and I hope I'll be there to see it,” said Alicia.
Mam'zelle Dupont was short, fat and round. She wore her hair in a little bun on top. Her eyes, black and beady, were never still. She wore a black frock that fitted her perfectly, and well-fitting black shoes on her tiny feet.
She was shortsighted but she would not wear glasses. She had instead a pair of long-handled glasses, called lorgnettes, which she wore dangling on a long black ribbon. These she used when she wanted to see anything at close quarters, holding them to her eyes with her hand.
Alicia, who was a good mimic, could keep her class in fits of laughter, blinking like poor Mam'zelle, and holding imaginary glasses up to her nose. But she was just as much in awe of Mam'zelle Dupont as anyone else, and did not rouse her hot temper if she could help it.
“New girls must go to see the Head Mistress after breakfast,” announced Miss Potts. “There are three in the first form, two in the second form, and one in the fourth. You can all go together. Join us in the assembly room for Prayers later. Pamela, will you take the new girls to the Head, please?”
Pamela, head-girl of North Tower House, rose. The new girls stood up, Darrell among them. They followed Pamela. She took them out of the door that let into the Court, and then in through another door set in the building that ran between East and North Tower. The Head Mistress's rooms were there, and so was the San. or sanatorium, where any sick girl went.
They came to a door painted a deep cream colour. Pamela knocked. A low voice said “Come in!”
Pamela opened the door. “I've brought the new girls to you, Miss Grayling,” she said.
“Thank you, Pamela,” said the low voice again, and Darrell saw a grey-haired woman sitting at a desk, writing. She had a calm, unwrinkled face, eyes that were startlingly blue, and a very firm mouth. Darrell felt frightened of this calm, low- voiced Head Mistress, and hoped she would never have to be sent to her for misbehaviour!
The new girls stood in a row before the Head, and Miss Grayling looked at them all closely. Darrell felt herself going red, she couldn't imagine why. Her knees felt a bit wobbly too. She hoped Miss Grayling wouldn't ask her any questions, for she was sure she wouldn't be able to say a word!
Miss Grayling asked them their names, and spoke a few words to each girl. Then she addressed them all solemnly.
“One day you will leave school and go out into the world as young women. You should take with you eager minds, kind hearts, and a will to help. You should take with you a good understanding of many things, and a willingness to accept responsibility and show yourselves as women to be loved and trusted. All these things you will be able to learn at Malory Towers—if you
will
. I do not count as our successes those who have won scholarships and passed exams, though these are good things to do. I count as our successes those who learn to be good-hearted and kind, sensible and trustable, good, sound women the world can lean on. Our failures are those who do not learn these things in the years they are here.”
These words were spoken so gravely and solemnly that Darrell hardly breathed. She immediately longed to be one of Malory Towers' successes.
“It is easy for some of you to learn these things, and hard for others. But easy or hard, they must be learnt if you are to be happy, after you leave here, and if you are to bring happiness to others.”
There was a pause. Then Miss Grayling spoke again, in a lighter tone. “You will all get a tremendous lot out of your time at Malory Towers. See that you give a lot back!”
“Oh!” said Darrell, surprised and pleased, quite forgetting that she had thought she wouldn't be able to speak a word, 'that's
exactly
what my father said to me when he said goodbye, Miss Grayling!”
“Did he?” said Miss Grayling, looking with smiling eyes at the eager little girl. “Well, as you have parents who think in that way, I imagine you will be one of the lucky ones, and will find that the things I have been speaking of will be easy to learn. Perhaps one day Malory Towers will be proud of you.”
A few more words and the girls were told to go. Very much impressed they walked out of the room. Not even Gwendoline said a word. Whatever they might do, in the years to come at Malory Towers, each girl wanted, at that moment, to do her best. Whether or not that wish would last, depended on the girl.
Then they went to the Assembly Hall for Prayers, found their places, and waited for Miss Grayling to come to the platform.
Soon the words of a hymn sounded in the big hall. The first day of term had begun. Darrell sang with all her might, happy and excited. What a lot she would have to tell her mother when she wrote!
ALL the school met each morning for prayers. The girls stood together in their classes—first-formers of North Tower, South, East, and West tower, all together, and so on.
Darrell took a nervous look at her class. What a big one it seemed! About twenty-five or thirty girls, surely. Miss Potts, her housemistress, was also the first-form mistress. There was Mam'zelle Dupont, singing lustily, and the teacher beside her must be the other French mistress. But how different! She was skinny, tall and bony. Her hair too was done up in a little bun, but at the back instead of on top. Darrell thought she looked bad-tempered.