6 clarissa arrives

gwendoline was keeping a good look-out for the coming of the last new upper fourth girl, clarissa. she was about the only girl in the form who had no special friend, and she could see that it wouldn’t be much good trying to make friends with the twins, because they would only want each other.

“anyway i don’t like the look of them much,” thought gwendoline. “they’ll probably go all out for games and gym and walks. why aren’t there any nice feminine girls here—ones who like to talk and read quietly, and not always go pounding about the lacrosse field or splash in that horrible pool!”

poor lazy gwendoline! she didn’t enjoy any of the things that gave the others such fun and pleasure. she hated anything that made her run about, and she detested the cold water of the pool.

daphne and mary-lou didn’t like the pool either, but they enjoyed tennis and walks. neither of them went riding because they were terrified of horses. bill, who now rode every day on thunder before breakfast, scorned daphne, mary-lou and gwendoline because they wouldn’t even offer thunder a lump of sugar and screamed if he so much as stamped on the ground. she and darrell and the new twins arranged an evening ride twice a week together, and miss peters, the third-form mistress, and bill’s great friend, came with them. they all enjoyed those rides on the cliffs immensely.

felicity was not allowed to go with them because she was only a first-former. to darrell’s annoyance she learnt that the only other good rider in the first form was june, so once again it seemed as if felicity and june were to be companions and enjoy something together.

“it’ll end in felicity having to make june her friend,” thought darrell. “oh, dear—it’s an awful pity i don’t like june. felicity likes sally so much. we ought to like each other’s friends. the mere thought of having june to stay with us in any holidays makes me squirm!”

the north tower upper fourth girls paired off very well—except for gwendoline. sally always went with darrell, of course. irene and belinda, the two clever madcaps, were inseparable, and very bad for each other. alicia was the only one who had a friend from another tower, and she and betty were staunch friends.

daphne and mary-lou were friends, and mavis hung on to them when she could. they liked her and did not mind being a threesome sometimes. bill had no special friend, but she didn’t want one. thunder was hers. bill was better with boys than with girls, because, having seven brothers she understood boys and not girls. she might have been a boy herself in the way she acted. she was the only fourth-former who chose to learn carpentry from mr. sutton, and did not in the least mind going with the first-and second-formers who enjoyed his teaching so much. she had already produced a pipe for her father, a ship for her youngest brother, and a bowl-stand for her mother, and was as proud of these as any of the good embroiderers were of their cushions, or the weavers of their scarves.

so it was really only gwendoline who had no one to go with, no one to ask her for her company on a walk, no one to giggle with in a corner. she pretended not to mind, but she did mind, very much. but perhaps now she would have her chance when the honourable clarissa came. how pleased her mother would be if she had a really nice friend!

gwendoline ran her mind back over the friends she had tried to make. there was mary-lou—stupid little mary-lou! there was daphne, who had seemed to be so very friendly one term, and then had suddenly become friends with mary-lou! there was mavis, who had had such a wonderful voice and was going to be an opera singer. gwendoline would have liked such a grand person for a friend in after life.

but mavis had fallen ill and lost her voice, and gwendoline didn’t want her any more. then there had been zerelda, the american girl who had now left—but she had no time for gwendoline!

gwendoline thought mournfully of all these failures. she didn’t for one moment think that her lack of friends was her own fault. it was just the horridness of the other girls! if only, only, only she could find somebody like herself—somebody who had never been to school before coming to malory towers, who had only had a governess, who didn’t play games and somebody who had wealthy parents who would ask her to go and stay in the holidays!

so gwendoline waited in hopes for clarissa’s arrival. she imagined a beautiful girl with lovely clothes, arriving in a magnificent car—the honourable clarissa! “my friend,” thought gwendoline, and she imagined herself at half-term saying to her mother and miss winter, her old governess, “mother, i want you to meet the honourable clarissa carter, my best friend!”

she did not tell any of the girls these thoughts. she knew the words they would use to her if they guessed what she was planning—snob, hypocrite, fraud! sucking up to somebody! just like dear gwendoline mary!

clarissa did not arrive till tea-time. gwendoline was sitting at table with the others, so she did not see her until the headmistress suddenly appeared with a strange girl.

gwendoline looked up without much interest. the girl was small and undersized-looking—a second-former perhaps. she wore glasses with thick lenses, and had a wire round her teeth to keep them back. her only beauty seemed to be her hair, which was thick and wavy, and a lovely auburn colour. gwendoline took another slice of bread-and-butter and looked for the jam.

the new girl was so nervous that she was actually trembling! darrell noticed this and was sorry for her. she too had felt like trembling when she first came, and had faced so many girls she didn’t know—and here was a poor creature who really was trembling!

to darrell’s surprise miss grayling brought the girl up to the upper fourth table. mam’zelle dupont was taking tea and sat at the head.

“oh, mam’zelle,” said miss grayling, “here is clarissa carter, the last new girl for the upper fourth. can you find a seat for her and give her some tea? then perhaps your head-girl can look after her when tea is finished.”

gwendoline almost dropped her bread-and-butter in surprise. goodness, she had nearly missed her chance! could this small, ugly girl really be clarissa? it was, so she must hurry up and put her plan into action.

there was a space beside gwendoline and she stood up in such a hurry that she almost knocked over daphne’s cup of tea. “clarissa can sit by me,” she said. “there is room here.”

clarissa, only too glad to sit down and hide herself, sank gladly into the place beside gwendoline. alicia nudged darrell. “got going quickly, hasn’t she?” she whispered, and darrell chuckled.

gwendoline was at her very sweetest. “sickly-sweet” was the name given by alicia to this particular form of friendliness shown by gwendoline. she leant towards clarissa and smiled in a most friendly way.

“welcome to malory towers! i expect you are tired and hungry. have some bread-and-butter.”

“i don’t think i could eat any, thank you,” said clarissa, almost sick with nervousness. “thank you all the same.”

“oh, you must have something!” said gwendoline and took a piece of bread-and-butter. “i’ll put some jam on it for you. it’s apricot—very nice for a wonder.”

clarissa didn’t dare to object. she sat huddled up as if she wanted to make herself as small and unnoticeable as possible. she nibbled at the bread-and-butter, but couldn’t seem to eat more than a bit of it.

gwendoline chattered away, thinking how good and sweet she must seem to the others, putting this nervous new girl at her ease in such a friendly manner. but only mam’zelle was deceived.

“the dear kind gwendoline,” she thought. “ah, she is a stupid child at her french, but see how charming she is to this poor plain girl, who shakes with nerves.”

“sucking up,” said everyone else round the table. they said nothing to clarissa, feeling that it was enough for the new girl to cope with gwen, without having to deal with anyone else as well. mary-lou liked the look of clarissa, in spite of her thick glasses and wire round her front teeth—but then mary-lou always felt friendly towards anyone as timid as herself! they were about the only people she wasn’t afraid of.

after tea mam’zelle spoke to darrell. “darrell, you will take care of clarissa, n’est-ce pas? she will feel strange at first, la pauvre petite!”

“mam’zelle, i’m awfully sorry, but i’ve got to go to a meeting of all the head-girls of the forms,” said darrell. “it’s in five minutes’ time. perhaps sally—or belinda—or . . .”

“i’ll look after her,” said gwendoline, promptly, thrilled that darrell had to go to a meeting. “i’ll show her round. i’ll be very pleased to.”

she gave clarissa a beaming smile that startled the new girl and made everyone else feel slightly sick. she slipped her arm through clarissa’s. “come along,” she said, in a sort of voice one uses to a very small child. “where’s your night-case? i’ll show you the dormy. you’ve got a very nice place in it.”

she went off with clarissa, and everyone made faces and grinned. “trust our gwendoline mary to show a bit of determination over things like this,” said alicia. “what a nasty little snob! honestly, i don’t think gwendoline has altered one bit for the better since she came to malory towers!”

“i think you’re right,” said darrell, considering the matter with her head on one side. “it’s really rather queer—i would have thought that being even a few terms here would have made everyone better in some way—and gwen has been here years—but she’s just the same sly, mean, lazy little sucker-up!”

“how has it made you better, darrell?” said alicia, teasingly. “i can’t say i’ve noticed much difference in you!”

“she was decent to start with,” said sally, loyally.

“anyway, i’ve conquered my hot temper,” said darrell. “i haven’t flown out in a rage for terms and terms—you know i haven’t. that’s one thing malory towers has done for me.”

“don’t boast too soon,” said alicia, grinning. “i’ve seen a glint in your eye lately, darrell—aha, yes i have! you be careful.”

darrell was about to deny this stoutly, when she stopped herself, and felt her cheeks going red. yes—she had felt her eyes “glinting”, as alicia used to call it, when she spoke to that pest of a june. well, she could “glint” surely, couldn’t she? there was nothing wrong in that—so long as she didn’t lose her temper, and she certainly wasn’t going to do that!

“i’ll ‘glint’ at you in a minute, alicia,” she said, with a laugh. “a head-girl ‘glint’ too—so just you be careful what you say!”