22 things get straightened out
mam’zelle soon recovered from her fit of “snizzes”, and returned to her teaching the next day. at first she had felt very angry when miss potts had explained to her that it was all because of some trick the girls had played.
but gradually her sense of humour came back to her and she found herself chuckling when she thought of miss potts and matron also being caught by the trick and sneezing violently too.
“but i, i snizzed the greatest snizzes,” said mam’zelle to herself. “aha—here is mam’zelle rougier. i will tell her of this trick.”
she told the prim, rather sour-faced mam’zelle rougier who did not approve of tricks in any shape or form. she was horrified.
“these english girls! have you told miss grayling? they should all be punished, every one.”
“oh no—i haven’t reported them to the head,” said mam’zelle dupont. “i only do that for serious matters.”
“and you do not call this a serious matter!” cried mam’zelle rougier. “you will overlook it, and not have the girls punished at all! that alicia—and the mad irene and the bad belinda—it would do them good to have a hard punishment.”
“oh, they are all being punished,” said mam’zelle, hastily. “they are to give up their half-holiday, and work instead.”
“that is no real punishment!” said mam’zelle rougier. “you are poor at discipline, mam’zelle dupont. i have always said so.”
“indeed, i am not!” cried mam’zelle dupont, annoyed. “have you no sense of humour? do you not see the funny side?”
“no, i do not,” said mam’zelle rougier, firmly. “what is this ‘funny side’ that the english speak of so much? it is not funny. you too know that it is not, mam’zelle.”
the more that mam’zelle rougier talked like this the more certain mam’zelle dupont was that the joke had been funny. in the end she quite persuaded herself that she had really entered into it and laughed with the girls.
she almost felt that she would like to remove the punishment miss potts had imposed. but miss potts would not hear of it. “certainly not! don’t be weak, mam’zelle. we can’t possibly let things like that pass.”
“perhaps not,” said mam’zelle, a sudden idea coming into her head. “the bad girls! they shall come to me for the whole of thursday afternoon, miss potts, and i will make them work.”
“that’s better,” said miss potts, approvingly. she found mam’zelle very difficult at times. “keep them at it all the afternoon!”
“i shall take them for a walk,” thought mam’zelle. she hated walks herself, but she knew how much the girls loved them. but when thursday afternoon came, it was such a pouring wet day that not only was no lacrosse match possible but no walk either.
darrell saw a notice up on the board beside the list of players. “match cancelled. another date will be fixed later.”
“look at that!” she said to sally. “no match after all. how frightfully disappointed i’d have been if i’d been playing—and it was cancelled. i wonder if there’s any hope of my playing on the next date it’s arranged. i suppose the girls who are ill will be better by then, though.”
the girls went to their classroom that afternoon, to work, while all the other forms went down to the big hall to play mad games together, and to see a film afterwards on a big screen put up at the end of the hall.
mam’zelle was waiting for them, a broad smile on her face. “poor children! you have to work this afternoon because of my snizzes. you must learn some french dances. i have brought my gramophone and some records. i will teach you a fine country dance that all french children know.”
in surprise and glee the third-formers put back all the desks and chairs. they hoped miss potts would come by, or miss peters, and see what kind of work they were doing on their forfeited half-holiday! what sport to see their faces if they looked into the room!
but mam’zelle had made sure that both these mistresses would not come that way. miss peters had gone off for the afternoon. miss potts would be in the big hall with her first form. mam’zelle was safe!
“the coast is bright!” said mam’zelle, gleefully. the girls giggled.
“you mean, ‘the coast is clear’,” said jean.
“it is the same thing,” said mam’zelle. “now—begin! form a ring, please, and i will tell you what to sing as you go round to the music.”
it was a hilarious afternoon, and the third-formers enjoyed it very much. “you’re a sport, mam’zelle,” said darrell, warmly, at the end. “a real sport.”
mam’zelle beamed. she had never yet been able to understand exactly what a “sport” was—she only knew it was very high praise, and she was pleased.
“you made me snizz—and i have made you pant!” she said, to the breathless girls. “we are evens, are we not?”
“quits, you mean,” said jean, but mam’zelle took no notice.
“i shall tell miss potts you have quite exhausted yourselves in your hard work this afternoon,” said mam’zelle. “poor children—you will be so hungry for tea!”
zerelda had enjoyed herself as much as anyone. in fact, she was very surprised to find how much she had enjoyed the whole afternoon. why—a week ago she would have turned up her nose at such rowdiness, and would only have joined in languidly, pretending it was all beneath her.
“but i loved every minute!” thought zerelda, tying her hair back firmly. it had come loose with the dancing. “i must have been a frightful idiot before. no wonder the girls laughed at me.”
she saw her old self suddenly—posing, trying to be so grown-up, piling up her hair in lossie laxton’s terrible style, looking down on all these jolly schoolgirls. she wouldn’t bear to think of it.
“it’s fun to be a proper schoolgirl,” she thought. “lovely to be just myself, instead of trying to be like lossie. what an idiot i was—far worse than mavis, who did at least have a real gift!”
mavis was getting on well. she looked forward immensely to zerelda’s visits. many of the third-formers had been to see her now, but she looked forward to zerelda’s visits more than to anyone else’s. she thought zerelda was wonderful—wonderful to have learnt a lesson that she, mavis, meant to try to learn too.
it was a little comfort to zerelda to feel that someone did think she was wonderful, even though she knew now that she wasn’t. now that mavis had stopped talking about her voice and her marvellous future, she seemed a different kind of person—simpler, more natural, with a greater interest in other people.
“i’m never going to mention my voice again,” mavis told zerelda. “i’m never going to say, ‘when i’m an opera-singer’ again. perhaps if i’m sensible and don’t boast and don’t think about my voice, it’ll come back.”
“oh, it’ll come back, i expect,” said zerelda, comfortingly. “you did your best to get rid of it though! oh, mavis—you’re just like me—reduced to being a schoolgirl and nothing else. but, gee, you wouldn’t believe how nice it is to belong to the others, to be just as they are, and not try to make out you’re too wunnerful for words!”
“tell me about mam’zelle and the sneezing again,” begged mavis. “you do make me laugh so. you’re terribly funny when you tell things like that, zerelda.”
zerelda was. she could not act any part, but she could tell a story in a very humorous way, and keep everyone in fits of laughter. privately alicia thought that that was zerelda’s real gift, the ability to be really funny—but she wasn’t going to say so! she wasn’t going to give zerelda any chance of thinking herself “wunnerful” again!
the girls admired the way zerelda gave her time so generously to mavis. they thought a good deal more of her for taking miss hibbert’s rather harsh ticking-off so well, and for taking to heart all she had said.
“i didn’t think she had it in her,” said darrell to sally. “i really didn’t. i thought she was just an inflated balloon—and when miss hibbert pricked her, i thought she’d just deflate and there’d be nothing. but there is something after all. i like her now, don’t you?”
“well—i always did think she was very generous, and i liked her good nature,” said sally. “but then i didn’t have such a dose of her silliness as you did—i didn’t come back to school till so late.”
“i’m glad betty’s back, aren’t you?” said darrell. “thank goodness! now alicia has got someone to go round with, and she doesn’t always want you and me to make a threesome. i wish bill had a friend. she’s rather on her own.”
“well—i don’t mind making up a threesome with bill sometimes,” said sally. “though bill doesn’t really need a friend, you know, darrell—honestly i think thunder takes the place of a friend with her.”
“yes. he does,” said darrell, remembering that dark rainy night when she and bill had walked thunder round and round the yard. “but it would be nice for bill if we let her go with us sometimes. she’s a sport.”
so bill, to her delight, was often taken in tow by darrell and sally. she thought the world of darrell. “one day i’ll repay her for that night,” thought bill, a hundred times a week. “i’ll never forget.”
she was very happy now. thunder was quite well. darrell and sally welcomed her. she was doing well in class. and miss peters was simply grand!
bill was a simple person, straightforward, natural and very loyal. these things made a great appeal to miss peters, who was much the same. so there grew up a real understanding between the form-mistress and bill, delightful to them both.
“i’m so happy here,” said bill to darrell. “i didn’t want to come—but oh, i’m so glad i came!”
