Read Online First Term at Malory Towers by Enid Blyton - Free Book Online
Authors: Enid Blyton
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vow,” she said, quietly. Her voice hardened again. “And now, Gwendoline, in front of us all, please, so that we can hear—what have you got to say to Mary-Lou?”
Gwendoline was forced to say she was sorry. She stammered and stuttered, so little did she want to say the words, but, with everyone's eyes on her, she had to. She had never said she was sorry for anything before in her life, and she didn't like it. She hated Darrell at that moment—yes, and she hated that silly Mary-Lou too!
She went out of the room almost in tears. There was a sigh of relief as she left. “Well, it's a good thing that's over!” said Irene, who hated scenes. “I'm off to one of the practice rooms. I feel a little music will be good after this upset!”
She went off to play the piano to herself in one of the many practice rooms. She would soon forget about everything but the melody she was playing. But the others didn't forget so easily. It hadn't been nice to see Darrell lose control of herself, but everyone agreed that it served Gwendoline right to get a slapping.
The girls compared the natural, generous way in which Darrell had said she was sorry with the grudging, stammering words that Gwendoline had spoken to the embarrassed Mary-Lou. Gwendoline certainly hadn't come out of the affair at all well. And she knew it too. She felt humiliated. What a fuss to make over a joke! Why, the girls often ducked one another! Anyway, she would write to her mother about being slapped by that beast of a Darrell! That would make all the girls sit up.
She went back to the common room, and opened her locker. Her writing paper was in there. She took out a pad and sat down. She did not usually enjoy writing to her mother. She thought it a bore! She had not written to Miss Winter at all since she had come to Malory Towers, though the governess had written to her three times a week. Gwendoline rather despised the people who liked her, and was spiteful towards those that didn't.
“I'm writing to my mother,” she announced to the girls around. Some were sewing, some were reading. It was a free hour for them before suppertime. Nobody took any notice of Gwendoline's remark except Jean.
“Not the day for writing home, is it now?” she said. “What's come over you, Gwendoline, to be sending home in the middle of the week, when you sigh and groan over your Sunday letter fit to make us all hold our hands over our ears!”
“I'm writing to tell Mother how Darrell slapped me,” said Gwendoline, clearly, so that everyone could hear. “I'm not going to stand that sort of thing. Mother won't, either.”
Katherine got up. “I'm glad you told me what you were going to do,” she said. “I'll go and get my writing-pad too. I am sure you won't tell your mother what led up to your slapping! But I will!”
Gwendoline flung down her pen in a fury. She tore the sheet she had begun, right off the pad and crumpled it up. “All right,” she said. “I won't write. I'm not going to have you telling tales of me to my people. What a beastly school this is! No wonder Mother didn't want to send me away from home.”
“Poor darling Gwendoline,” said Alicia, as the angry girl flung out of the room. “She just can't do anything she wants! I must say I think Malory Towers is going to be jolly good for her!” She shook her head violently again, and Darrell looked at her in surprise.
“Why do you keep doing that?” she asked.
“I told you. I can't seem to get the water out of my ears,” said Alicia. “They feel blocked. I say —I do hope I shan't be deaf tomorrow! I did go deaf once before when I swam under water for ages!”
“Oh, Alicia! How funny it would be if you really did go deaf tomorrow in Mam'zelle's class!” said Darrell, heartlessly. “Oh, dear. I can't imagine what would happen!”
“Well, / can!” said Alicia. “Let's hope my ears get right before the morning!”
Alicia in trouble
THE affair at the Pool had a good many results. First,
Gwendoline was forced to say she was sorry. She stammered and stuttered, so little did she want to say the words, but, with everyone's eyes on her, she had to. She had never said she was sorry for anything before in her life, and she didn't like it. She hated Darrell at that moment—yes, and she hated that silly Mary-Lou too!
She went out of the room almost in tears. There was a sigh of relief as she left. “Well, it's a good thing that's over!” said Irene, who hated scenes. “I'm off to one of the practice rooms. I feel a little music will be good after this upset!”
She went off to play the piano to herself in one of the many practice rooms. She would soon forget about everything but the melody she was playing. But the others didn't forget so easily. It hadn't been nice to see Darrell lose control of herself, but everyone agreed that it served Gwendoline right to get a slapping.
The girls compared the natural, generous way in which Darrell had said she was sorry with the grudging, stammering words that Gwendoline had spoken to the embarrassed Mary-Lou. Gwendoline certainly hadn't come out of the affair at all well. And she knew it too. She felt humiliated. What a fuss to make over a joke! Why, the girls often ducked one another! Anyway, she would write to her mother about being slapped by that beast of a Darrell! That would make all the girls sit up.
She went back to the common room, and opened her locker. Her writing paper was in there. She took out a pad and sat down. She did not usually enjoy writing to her mother. She thought it a bore! She had not written to Miss Winter at all since she had come to Malory Towers, though the governess had written to her three times a week. Gwendoline rather despised the people who liked her, and was spiteful towards those that didn't.
“I'm writing to my mother,” she announced to the girls around. Some were sewing, some were reading. It was a free hour for them before suppertime. Nobody took any notice of Gwendoline's remark except Jean.
“Not the day for writing home, is it now?” she said. “What's come over you, Gwendoline, to be sending home in the middle of the week, when you sigh and groan over your Sunday letter fit to make us all hold our hands over our ears!”
“I'm writing to tell Mother how Darrell slapped me,” said Gwendoline, clearly, so that everyone could hear. “I'm not going to stand that sort of thing. Mother won't, either.”
Katherine got up. “I'm glad you told me what you were going to do,” she said. “I'll go and get my writing-pad too. I am sure you won't tell your mother what led up to your slapping! But I will!”
Gwendoline flung down her pen in a fury. She tore the sheet she had begun, right off the pad and crumpled it up. “All right,” she said. “I won't write. I'm not going to have you telling tales of me to my people. What a beastly school this is! No wonder Mother didn't want to send me away from home.”
“Poor darling Gwendoline,” said Alicia, as the angry girl flung out of the room. “She just can't do anything she wants! I must say I think Malory Towers is going to be jolly good for her!” She shook her head violently again, and Darrell looked at her in surprise.
“Why do you keep doing that?” she asked.
“I told you. I can't seem to get the water out of my ears,” said Alicia. “They feel blocked. I say —I do hope I shan't be deaf tomorrow! I did go deaf once before when I swam under water for ages!”
“Oh, Alicia! How funny it would be if you really did go deaf tomorrow in Mam'zelle's class!” said Darrell, heartlessly. “Oh, dear. I can't imagine what would happen!”
“Well, / can!” said Alicia. “Let's hope my ears get right before the morning!”
Alicia in trouble
THE affair at the Pool had a good many results. First,
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