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Upper Fourth at Malory Towers

9 Gwendoline and Clarissa
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9 gwendoline and clarissa

darrell forgot about clarissa for a day or two, because for some reason the days suddenly became very full up indeed. head-girls seemed to have quite a lot of duties darrell hadn’t thought of, and there was such a lot of prep to do this term.

gwendoline now had clarissa very firmly attached to her side. she sat next to her in class, and offered to help her whenever she could—but this usually ended, not in gwen helping clarissa, but the other way round!

their beds were next to each other’s at night, for gwendoline had persuaded soft-hearted mary-lou to change beds with her, so that she might be next to clarissa.

“she’s never been to school before, you see, mary-lou,” she said, “and as i hadn’t either, before i came here, i do understand how she feels. it’s at night you feel things worst. i’d like to be near her just to say a few words till she settles down properly.”

mary-lou thought it was extraordinary of gwendoline to develop such a kind heart all of a sudden, but she felt that it ought to be encouraged anyway—so she changed beds, and to darrell’s annoyance one night, there was gwendoline next to clarissa, whispering away like anything.

“who told you you could change beds?” she demanded.

“mary-lou,” said gwendoline, in a meek voice.

“but—why in the world did you ask mary-lou?” said darrell. “i’m the one to ask, surely.”

“no. because it was mary-lou’s bed i wanted to change over, darrell,” explained gwen, still in a meek voice. she saw that darrell was annoyed, and decided to offer to change back again. then surely darrell would say all right, keep next to clarissa!

“but, of course, if you’d rather i didn’t sleep next to clarissa—though i only wanted to help her—” said gwendoline, in a martyr-like voice.

“oh, stay there,” said darrell, who could never bear it when gwendoline put on her martyr-act. so gwendoline, rejoicing inwardly, did stay there, and was able to whisper what she thought were comforting words to clarissa at night. she was too far away from darrell’s bed to be heard—and in any case darrell, usually tired out with work and games, slept very quickly, and heard nothing.

clarissa thought gwendoline was really the kindest girl she had ever met—not that she had met many, however! feeling lonely and strange, she had welcomed gwendoline’s friendliness eagerly. she had listened to endless tales about gwendoline’s uninteresting family, who all seemed to be “wonderful” according to gwen, and yet appeared to the listening clarissa to be uniformly dull!

she said very little about her own family, though gwendoline questioned her as much as she dared, longing to hear of rolls royces and yachts and mansions. but clarissa merely spoke of their little country house, and their “car”—not even “cars”, thought the disappointed gwendoline.

as clarissa had a weak heart, and did no games or gym, she hadn’t much chance to get together with the other girls. she either had to rest at these times, or merely go to watch, which she found rather boring. so she looked forward eagerly to the times she could be with gwendoline, who was practically her only companion.

that is, till darrell really took the matter in hand! seeing gwendoline’s fair head and clarissa’s auburn one bent together over a jigsaw puzzle one fine evening, when everyone should have been out of doors, she made up her mind that something really must be done!

she went to mavis. after all, mavis had no real friend, she just made a threesome with daphne and mary-lou. she could quite well spare some of her time for clarissa.

“mavis,” said darrell, “we think that clarissa is seeing a bit too much of darling gwendoline mary. will you try and get clarissa to yourself a bit and talk to her?”

mavis was surprised and pleased. “yes, of course, darrell,” she said. “i’d love to.” secretly she thought that the small, bespectacled clarissa was quite well paired off with gwendoline—but if darrell thought otherwise, then it must be so! so obediently she went to try to prise clarissa away from the close-clinging gwen.

“come down to the pool with me, clarissa,” she said, smiling pleasantly. “i’m not bathing today—but we’ll go and watch the others. they want someone to throw in pennies for them to dive for.”

clarissa got up at once. gwendoline frowned. “oh, clarissa—you can’t go just yet.”

“why? we’ve nothing much to do,” said clarissa, surprised. “you come, too.”

“no. i feel rather tired,” said gwendoline, untruthfully, hoping that clarissa would stay with her. but she didn’t. she went off with mavis, rather flattered at having been asked by her. clarissa had not much opinion of herself. she thought herself dull and plain and uninteresting, and indeed she certainly appeared so to most of the girls!

darrell beamed at mavis. good old mavis! she was doing her best, thought darrell, pleased. but poor clarissa didn’t have much of a time with gwendoline afterwards!

gwendoline was rather cold, and gave her very short, cool answers when she returned from the pool. clarissa was puzzled.

“i say—you didn’t really mind my going off with mavis for a bit, did you?” she said at last.

gwendoline spoke solemnly. “clarissa, you don’t know as much about mavis as i do. she’s not the sort of girl your family would like you to be friends with. do you know what she did last year? she heard of a talent-spotting competition in a town near here—you know, a very common show with perfectly dreadful people in it—and she actually went off by herself to sing in the show!”

clarissa was truly horrified, partly because she knew that she herself would never have had the courage even to think of such a thing.

“what happened?” she said. “tell me.”

“well—mavis missed the last bus home,” said gwendoline, still very solemn. “and miss peters found her lying by the road about three o’clock in the morning. after that she was terribly ill, and lost her voice. she thought she had a wonderful voice before that, you know—though i can’t say i ever thought much of it—and so it was a very good punishment for her to lose it.”

“poor mavis,” said clarissa.

“well, personally i think she ought to have been expelled,” said gwendoline. “i’ve only told you this, clarissa, because i want you to see that mavis isn’t really the kind of person to make friends with—that is if you were thinking of it.”

“oh no, i wasn’t,” said clarissa, hastily. “i only just went down to the pool with her, gwen. i won’t even do that if you don’t want me to.”

poor weak clarissa had said just what gwendoline hoped she would say, and the next time that mavis came to ask her to go for a short walk with her, she refused.

“don’t bother clarissa,” said gwendoline. “she really doesn’t want you hanging round her.”

the indignant mavis walked away and reported to darrell that she wasn’t going to bother about that silly little clarissa any more! she had better find someone else. what about daphne?

daphne came by at that moment and heard her name. in a fit of annoyance darrell told her that mavis had been rebuffed by clarissa, and that mavis had suggested that she, daphne, should have a try. what about it?

“i don’t mind having a shot—just to spoil darling gwendoline mary’s fun,” said daphne with a grin. so she tried her hand at clarissa, too, only to be met with excuses and evasions. gwendoline had quite a bit to tell clarissa about daphne, too!

“you see, clarissa,” said gwendoline, “daphne isn’t really fit to be at a school like this. you mustn’t repeat what i tell you—but a year or two ago daphne was found out to be a thief!”

clarissa stared at gwendoline in horror. “i don’t believe it,” she said.

“well, just as you like,” said gwen. “but she was a thief—she stole purses and money and brooches—and this wasn’t the only school she’d stolen at, either. when it was found out, miss grayling made her come into our common-room, and confess everything to us—and we had to decide whether or not she should be expelled. it’s as true as i’m standing here!”

clarissa was quite pale. she looked across the courtyard to where daphne was laughing with mary-lou. she couldn’t believe it—and yet gwendoline would never, never dare to tell such a lie as that.

“and—did you all say that—you didn’t want her expelled?” she said at last.

“well, i was the first to say she should have a chance and i’d stick by her,” said gwen, untruthfully, for it had been little mary-lou who had said that, not gwen. “so she was kept on—but as you can see, clarissa, she wouldn’t be a really nice friend to have, would she? you’d never feel you could trust her.”

“no. i suppose not,” said clarissa. “oh, dear—i hate thinking nasty things about mavis and daphne like this. i hope there are no more nasty tales to tell.”

“did you ever hear how darrell slapped me about a dozen times in the swimming-pool, for nothing at all?” said gwen, who had never forgotten or forgiven this episode. “i had a bad leg for ages after that. and you know that girl in the fifth—ellen? well, she tried to get hold of the exam papers and cheat by looking at the questions, the night before the exam! she did, really.”

“don’t,” said clarissa, beginning to think that malory towers was a nest of cheats, thieves and idiots.

“and even bill, that everyone thinks such a lot of, was in awful disgrace last year, through continual deceit and disobedience,” went on the poisonous voice in clarissa’s ear. “do you know, miss peters had to threaten to send bill’s horse, thunder, away to her home, because she was so disobedient?”

“i don’t want to hear any more,” said clarissa, unhappily. “i really don’t.”

“well, it’s all true,” said gwendoline, forgetting her own record of deceit and unkindness, and not even realizing how she had distorted the facts, so that though most of them were capable of simple and kindly explanations, she had presented them as pictures of real badness.

darrell came up, determined to get clarissa away from gwendoline’s everlasting whispering. “hey, clarissa,” she called, in a jolly voice. “you’re just the person i’m looking for! come and help me to pick some flowers for our classroom, will you?”

clarissa sat as if rooted to the spot. “come on!” called darrell, impatiently. “i shan’t bite you—or even slap you!”

“oh, dear!” thought clarissa, getting up slowly, and remembering gwen’s tale of the dozen slaps darrell had given her, “i hope she doesn’t go for me!”

“has dear gwendoline been regaling you with tales of our dark, dreadful deeds?” said darrell, and then, as she saw clarissa go red, she knew that she had hit the nail on the head.

“bother gwendoline!” she thought. “she really is a poisonous little snake!”

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