Third Year at Malory Towers (16 page)

“Miss Hibbert, had I better go and see what has happened to Zerelda?” asked Gwen, timidly. “Miss Hibbert, she really did think she had a gift for acting, you know. Aren't you going to let her be in the play at all?”

“I may give her a very small part—where she can't throw herself about,” said Miss Hibbert. “But certainly not a good part. It must be obvious even to you, Gwendoline, that Zerelda hasn't the faintest idea of acting, and never will have. Go and find her and tell her to come here to me. I want to talk to her. The class is now dismissed.”

The third-formers went out quietly. Poor Zerelda! What would she do now?

“Put a bold face on it, I expect,” said Alicia. “Just as she did when she was sent down to the third form. She won't care! She'll go on in just the same way, thinking the world of herself, and very little of anyone else!”

Zerelda was found by Gwen in the cloakroom. She had washed her face quite clean and tied back her hair. But she had been too scared to go back to the art-room.

“Zerelda, Miss Hibbert wants you,” said Gwen. “I'm sorry about that row. It's a shame.”

“
Can't
I act, Gwen?” said Zerelda, her lip quivering suddenly. Gwendoline hesitated.

“Well—you weren't very good really,” she said. “You— you just seemed to be terribly funny. You might make a very good
comedian
, Zerelda.”

Zerelda said nothing but went off to the art-room. Even Gwen thought she couldn't act! In fact, she was so bad that she became ridiculous. Zerelda was shocked and dismayed. She dreaded hearing what Miss Hibbert had to say.

But Miss Hibbert was unexpectedly kind, “I hear that it is your ambition to be a great actress, Zerelda,” she said. “Well, my dear, it is given to very few of us to be that. You haven't the gift—and you haven't another thing that all really fine actresses need.”

“What?” whispered Zerelda.

“Well, Zerelda, in order to be able to put yourself properly into some other character, you have to forget yourself entirely--forget your looks, your ambitions, your pride in acting, everything! And it takes a strong and understanding character to do that, someone without conceit or weakness of any sort--the finer the character of the actor, the better he can play any part. You are thinking of yourself too much. You were not Juliet being acted by Zerelda this afternoon—you were Zerelda all the time—and not a very nice Zerelda either!”

“Shan't I ever be any good at acting?” asked Zerelda, miserably.

“I don't think so,” said Miss Hibbert, gently. “I can always tell at once those who have any gift for it. You have let your foolish worship and admiration of the film stars blind you, Zerelda. Why not try to be your own self for a while? Stop all this posturing and pretending. Be like the others, a schoolgirl sent here to learn lessons and play games!”

“It's the only thing left for me to be,” said Zerelda, and a tear ran down her cheek.

“It's a very, very nice thing to be,” said Miss Hibbert. “You try it and see! I wouldn't have been so hard on you if I'd known you had set your heart on being an actress. I thought you were just being ridiculous.”

Zerelda left the art-room, hardly knowing what to think. She had made herself ridiculous. She never, never wanted to act again! All she wanted to do was to sink into being a nobody, hoping that none of the others would notice her and tease her about that afternoon.

She joined the others at tea, slipping into her place unnoticed by the girls. Miss Potts looked at her and saw that she had been crying. “Funny thing!” thought Miss Potts, “it's the first time I've noticed it, but Zerelda is getting to look much more like the others now—a proper little schoolgirl. Perhaps Malory Towers is beginning to have an effect after all!”

ONE or two days slipped by. Mavis was still very ill and could not be seen, but it was known now that she was mending. Everyone was relieved. The girls sent in flowers and books, and Zerelda sent her a complicated American jigsaw.

Bill had quite recovered from her midnight adventure and so had Darrell. Miss Peters was delighted with the change in Bill's work. It was still uneven but she knew that Bill was paying great attention and really trying hard. Zerelda, too, was working even better, and had actually asked Mam'zelle for extra coaching!

Zerelda had sorted things out in her mind. She had definitely given up the idea of becoming a film-actress. She didn't even want to
look
like one! She wanted to look as like the others as possible, and to make them forget how ridiculous she had been. She began to copy them in every way she could.

“Isn't Zerelda queer?” said Belinda to Irene. “When she first came here she gave herself such airs and graces, and looked down on the whole lot of us—now she tries to copy us in everything—the way we speak, the way we do this and that—and seems to think we're just “wunnerful!”“

“She's much nicer,” said Irene, trying out the rhythm of a tune on the table in front of her. “Tum-tum-ti-tum. Yes, that's how it goes. I like Zerelda now, really I do.”

“Look—Gwendoline's scowling again!” said Belinda, in a whisper, “I can get that scowl this time. Isn't it a beauty!”

Gwen suddenly became aware of Belinda's intent glances. She straightened her face at once. “If you've drawn me, I'll tear up the paper!” she said.

“Oh,
Gwen
—scowl half a minute more and I'll get it!” begged Belinda. But Gwen walked out of the room, putting the scowl on outside the door because she felt so annoyed with Belinda and her impish pencil.

“About that trick,” said Alicia, suddenly to Darrell. “Shall we play it on Friday? Mam'zelle was murmuring this morning something about a test then.”

“Oh
yes
. Let's!” said Darrell, thrilled. She saw Sally nearby, her face glum. “Sally! Do say you agree. It really will be funny—and quite harmless.”

“I've said already I'm not going to have anything to do with the trick,” said Sally. “I think it's a silly trick, and might be dangerous. I can't see how anyone can sneeze and sneeze without feeling exhausted. Do it if you like—but just remember that I don't agree!”

“Spoil-sport,” said Alicia, in a low voice to Darrell. Darrell sighed. She couldn't back out of the trick now just to please Sally—but she did hate it when Sally wouldn't be friends. Never mind—Betty would be coming back this week. On Friday perhaps! Then Alicia wouldn't bother about her any more. Betty had been away for more than six weeks now— it was past half-term—but she had been sent away to the seaside, after her whooping cough was over, because she had had it so badly. Good gracious—there were only three or four weeks to the end of the term! How the time had flown. It was March now, and the early daffodils were blowing in the courtyard.

Alicia and Darrell made their plans. “We'll put the little pellet, soaked in salt water, on the little ledge behind Mam'zelle,” said Alicia. “Let's see—who's on duty to get the room ready on Friday? Oh, I do believe it's you, isn't it, Darrell? That will be easy then. You can put the pellet there yourself.”

“Yes, I will.” agreed Darrell, beginning to giggle at the thought of Mam'zelle's surprise when she kept sneezing.

All the third-formers knew about the joke. Only Sally disapproved. Jean didn't think there was any harm in it at all, so she didn't draw back either. Everyone was thrilled at the thought of Friday.

It came at last. Darrell slipped into the form room with the little pellet and a sponge soaked in salt water. She set the pellet on the ledge and squeezed a few drops of water from the sponge over it. That was apparently all that was needed to make it work.

The others came in to get ready for the class. They raised their eyebrows at Darrell, and she nodded back, smiling. They all took their places, ready for Mam'zelle.

She came in, beaming as usual. “
Asseyez-vous, mes enfants
. Today we have a great, great treat. It is a test!”

Deep groans from the class.

“Silence!” hissed Mam'zelle. “Do you want Miss Potts to come and find out what is the meaning of this terrible noise? Now, I will write some questions on the blackboard, and you will answer them in your books.”

She turned to write on the blackboard, and got the first whiff of the fine vapour, quite invisible, that was streaming from the curious little pellet.

Mam'zelle felt a tickling in her nose, and felt about her plump person for her handkerchief. “Ah, where is it now? I have a nose-tickle.”

“Your hanky's in your belt, Mam'zelle,” called Alicia, hoping that Irene wasn't going to do one of her explosions too soon. She already looked as if she was on the point of bursting.

Mam'zelle also looked as if she was bursting. She snatched at her handkerchief and pressed it to her nose. But no handkerchief could choke down that colossal sneeze. Mam'zelle always did sneeze loudly at any time—but this time it sounded like an explosive shell!

“A-WHOOSH-OOOO! Dear me,” said Mam'zelle, patting her nose with her handkerchief. “I'm sorry, girls, I could not help it.”

Irene had already bent down to hide her giggles under the desk. Alicia glanced at her in amused annoyance. Whatever would she do when Mam'zelle's second sneeze came along? Ah—it was coming. Mam'zelle was making a frantic grab for her handkerchief again. “Oh,
là là
! Here is another snizz. I hope I do not get a cold. A-WHOOOSH-OOOOOOO!”

Irene exploded and so did Belinda. Mam'zelle, quite shaken by her enormous sneeze, glared at them both.

“Irene! Belinda! It is not kind to laugh at another's discom ... A-WHOOOSH-OO!”

But now even Alicia could not hide her laughter. Darrell leaned back weakly and tried to stop laughing because her side ached too much. Even Sally was smiling, though she tried hard not to.

“A-WHOOOSH-OOO!” sneezed Mam'zelle again. She reeled back to her chair, and mopped her forehead. “Never have I snizzed like this before,” she said. “It is unheard of that I snizz so much. A-WHOOOOOSH-OOOOOO!”

The last one was so terrific that it shook poor Mam'zelle right out of her chair. By now the whole class was in convulsions. Gwen was falling out of her chair. In another moment Irene would be rolling on the floor. Tears of laughter were pouring down the cheeks of half a dozen of the girls.

Mam'zelle sat staring at the blackboard wondering if the sneezing had finished. Perhaps the attack was over. She got up cautiously and went to the blackboard—but at once her nose began to tickle again and she put up her handkerchief. - A-WHOOOOOOOOOSH-OOO!”

Mam'zelle sank down into her chair again. At this moment the door opened and Miss Potts looked in with a sheaf of papers. “Oh, excuse me, Mam'zelle, but you left these...” she began, and then stopped short in surprise at seeing the whole form rolling about in helpless laughter. Whatever was happening?

She looked at Mam'zelle, and Mam'zelle looked back, trying to tell her what was happening. Another exploding sneeze nearly blew Miss Potts out of the door.

“A-WHOOOSH-OOOOOO!”

The class sobered up when they saw Miss Potts. They hoped she would go immediately—but she didn't. Rather alarmed at Mam'zelle's agonized expression, she went over to her. “It is these snizzes—” Mam'zelle began to explain and was then overcome by another.

The vapour found its way to Miss Potts' nose. She was just about to open her mouth and speak when she too felt a sneeze coming. Her nose began to tickle and she felt for her handkerchief.

A-TISH-OOO!” she sneezed, and Irene burst into one of her explosive laughs at once. Miss Potts glared at her.

“Irene! Do you think ... A-TISH-OOOO!”

“ A-WHOOOOSH-OOOO!” from Mam'zelle. “Miss Potts what is this snizzing? I cannot stop my snizzes—A-WHOOSH-OO!”

Miss Potts sneezed three times without being able to get a word in between the sneezes. Then a sudden suspicion flashed into her mind. She looked at the giggling girls.

“Jean,” she said, “you are head-girl of this form. Is this a trick? A-TISH-OO!”

Jean hesitated. How could she give the whole form away?

Mam'zelle saved her from further questioning. She sneezed such a mighty sneeze that she fell off her chair. She moaned. “I am ill! I have never snizzed like this before. I am very ill. A-WHOOOOSH-OO.”

Really alarmed, Miss Potts, hindered by two or three sudden sneezes of her own, dragged Mam'zelle to her feet. “Open the window,” she commanded Darrell. “Fetch Matron. Mam'zelle certainly does look ill.”

In great alarm Darrell opened the window and Mary-Lou ran for Matron. Matron came, puzzled by Mary-Lou's breathless tale of Mam'zell's sneezes. She saw Mam'zelle's pale face and took her arm to lead her away. The pellet-vapour overtook Matron also, and she did a very sudden sneeze indeed. Miss Potts also obliged with two more, and Mam'zelle prepared for yet another. Then Matron took Mam'zelle from the room, and Miss Potts followed, to make sure poor Mam'zelle was all right.

The girls, alarmed and frightened though they were, could not stop from laughing at the sight of the three adults sneezing in chorus together. “You were nearly caught out with Miss Potts” question, Jean,” said Alicia. “It was a narrow shave! Let's hope she doesn't ask it again.”

“I hope Mam'zelle isn't
really
knocked out,” said Darrell, anxiously. “She did look rather awful. I think I'll quickly take that pellet and throw it out of the window before Miss Potts comes back and sees it!”

So she threw it out, being caught for a sneeze herself first. Then the form settled down to wait for someone to come back.

It was Miss Potts. “Mam'zelle is not at all well,” she began, severely, handkerchief in hand in case she began to sneeze again. “She has had to go to bed. She is quite exhausted. The strange—very strange—thing is, that as soon as we left this room not one of us had any wish to sneeze. Jean, will you please explain this to me. Or perhaps you, Alicia, would like to do so? I feel that you probably know more about it than anyone else.”

Alicia hardly knew what to say. Jean nudged her. “Go on. You'll have to tell.”

So Alicia told. It didn't seem nearly such a funny idea when it was told stammeringly to a frowning Miss Potts.