snaps like a bad dog—look at her now, scowling at her work-basket as if it had bitten her!”
If anyone passed too close to Ellen and knocked her elbow, she would jump and snap “Look out! Can't you see where you're going?”
If anyone interrupted her reading, she would slam her book down on the table and glare at the offender. “Can't you see I'm reading? There isn't a quiet place in the whole of this beastly house!”
“You're not reading,” Darrell would say. “You haven't turned a page since you took up your book!”
“Oh—so you've been watching me, have you?” Ellen would say, and her eyes would suddenly fill with tears. Then she would go out of the room and slam the door.
“Isn't she awful! Scratches like a cat”
“I wish she'd won a scholarship to somewhere else!”
“Always pretending to read and study and yet she slides down lower every week! Hypocrite, I call her!”
“Och, she's not a happy girl! Maybe she hasn't settled down here yet!” That was Jean, of course, and Sally would flash her a glance of approval. Jean certainly bad an uphill task with Ellen, but she was persevering with it!
The weather was bad just then, and there was no lacrosse, and not even a walk, for the country round about was deep in mud. The girls grew restless, penned up indoors, and the teachers decided that, bad weather or not, there had better be a School Walk the next day.
Everyone groaned. The rain poured down. The sky was black and lowering. The lacrosse fields were half under water. Whatever would the country lanes be like? The sea was an angry grey-green, and the wind was so high on the cliff that no girl was allowed up there in case she was blown over.
Gwendoline and Daphne grumbled the loudest of all Gwendoline developed a persistent sniff in class, hoping that Miss Parker would think she had a cold and let her off the walk. But Miss Parker had been warned by Potty of Gwendoline's sniffs, and was not sympathetic. “If you sniff any more, you can go and do it outside the door,” she said. “If there's one thing I cannot bear, it's somebody sniffing. It's disgusting, it's unnecessary, and in your case, it is probably put on, Gwendoline.”
Gwendoline glared. Why were there no schoolteachers like her old governess at home, Miss Winter? She always rushed for a thermometer at once, if Gwendoline so much as cleared her throat, and would never, never dream of making her go out for a walk in such terrible weather.
She did not dare to sniff again, and was annoyed at Darrell's grins. Daphne looked at her sympathetically. Not that she cared whether Gwendoline had a cold or not, but it was the thing to do—Gwendoline simply lapped up sympathy.
Daphne herself tried other tactics to get out of the walk. She had no intention at all of wading through miles of mud. She went to Mam'zelle Dupont with her exercise book that evening. She put on her sweetest smile and knocked at the door of the little room which Miss Potts shared with Mam'zelle. She hoped fervently that Potts wasn't there. Potty always seemed to be irritated by Daphne's presence.
Fortunately Potty wasn't there. “Ah, it is you ma petite Daphne!” cried Mam'zelle, welcoming her favourite with a smile almost as charming as Daphne's. “You have something to say to me? You do not understand something, is it not?”
“Oh. Mam'zelle, I'm in such a muddle over these tenses,” said Daphne. “I really do feel that I ought to have a little coaching in them, if you could possibly spare the time. I do so badly want to get my French better.”
“But it has been much better lately, my dear child!” cried Mam'zelle, beaming, not knowing that little Mary-Lou had been doing most of Daphne's French for her. “I am pleased with you.”
Daphne turned on her smile again and Mam'zelle's heart melted still further. Ah, this pretty Daphne! She put her arm around her. “Yes, yes, of course I will give you a little extra coaching.” she said. “We shall soon put
If anyone passed too close to Ellen and knocked her elbow, she would jump and snap “Look out! Can't you see where you're going?”
If anyone interrupted her reading, she would slam her book down on the table and glare at the offender. “Can't you see I'm reading? There isn't a quiet place in the whole of this beastly house!”
“You're not reading,” Darrell would say. “You haven't turned a page since you took up your book!”
“Oh—so you've been watching me, have you?” Ellen would say, and her eyes would suddenly fill with tears. Then she would go out of the room and slam the door.
“Isn't she awful! Scratches like a cat”
“I wish she'd won a scholarship to somewhere else!”
“Always pretending to read and study and yet she slides down lower every week! Hypocrite, I call her!”
“Och, she's not a happy girl! Maybe she hasn't settled down here yet!” That was Jean, of course, and Sally would flash her a glance of approval. Jean certainly bad an uphill task with Ellen, but she was persevering with it!
The weather was bad just then, and there was no lacrosse, and not even a walk, for the country round about was deep in mud. The girls grew restless, penned up indoors, and the teachers decided that, bad weather or not, there had better be a School Walk the next day.
Everyone groaned. The rain poured down. The sky was black and lowering. The lacrosse fields were half under water. Whatever would the country lanes be like? The sea was an angry grey-green, and the wind was so high on the cliff that no girl was allowed up there in case she was blown over.
Gwendoline and Daphne grumbled the loudest of all Gwendoline developed a persistent sniff in class, hoping that Miss Parker would think she had a cold and let her off the walk. But Miss Parker had been warned by Potty of Gwendoline's sniffs, and was not sympathetic. “If you sniff any more, you can go and do it outside the door,” she said. “If there's one thing I cannot bear, it's somebody sniffing. It's disgusting, it's unnecessary, and in your case, it is probably put on, Gwendoline.”
Gwendoline glared. Why were there no schoolteachers like her old governess at home, Miss Winter? She always rushed for a thermometer at once, if Gwendoline so much as cleared her throat, and would never, never dream of making her go out for a walk in such terrible weather.
She did not dare to sniff again, and was annoyed at Darrell's grins. Daphne looked at her sympathetically. Not that she cared whether Gwendoline had a cold or not, but it was the thing to do—Gwendoline simply lapped up sympathy.
Daphne herself tried other tactics to get out of the walk. She had no intention at all of wading through miles of mud. She went to Mam'zelle Dupont with her exercise book that evening. She put on her sweetest smile and knocked at the door of the little room which Miss Potts shared with Mam'zelle. She hoped fervently that Potts wasn't there. Potty always seemed to be irritated by Daphne's presence.
Fortunately Potty wasn't there. “Ah, it is you ma petite Daphne!” cried Mam'zelle, welcoming her favourite with a smile almost as charming as Daphne's. “You have something to say to me? You do not understand something, is it not?”
“Oh. Mam'zelle, I'm in such a muddle over these tenses,” said Daphne. “I really do feel that I ought to have a little coaching in them, if you could possibly spare the time. I do so badly want to get my French better.”
“But it has been much better lately, my dear child!” cried Mam'zelle, beaming, not knowing that little Mary-Lou had been doing most of Daphne's French for her. “I am pleased with you.”
Daphne turned on her smile again and Mam'zelle's heart melted still further. Ah, this pretty Daphne! She put her arm around her. “Yes, yes, of course I will give you a little extra coaching.” she said. “We shall soon put
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