23 last week of term

by this time, of course, the girls were almost helpless with laughter. tears were pouring down darrell’s cheeks and sally was holding her sides, aching with laughter. irene appeared to be choking and alicia and betty were holding on to each other helplessly.

mam’zelle rushed to miss williams. she was taking a class in the second form, and was amazed at mam’zelle’s sudden entrance.

“miss williams! i beg you to come with me to your classroom,” mam’zelle besought the astonished miss williams. “it goes ‘ping’ and it goes ‘pong’—right in my ears—yes, and down by my foot.”

miss williams looked astounded. was mam’zelle off her head? what was all this ping and pong business? the second form began to giggle.

“mam’zelle, what exactly do you mean?” asked miss williams, rather crossly. “be more explicit.”

“in your classroom there are pings and pongs,” said mam’zelle again. “the girls do not hear them, but i do. and i, i do not like it. miss williams, come, je vous prie!”

as it looked as if mam’zelle was about to go down on her knees, miss williams got up hurriedly and went with her to the upper fourth. the girls had recovered a little and were on the watch to see who might be coming. one or two more bubbles had floated down and burst with sharp pings, and another was just about to descend.

“sssst! it’s miss williams,” said mavis, suddenly, from the door. “straighten your faces.”

with difficulty the girls pulled their faces straight, and stood up as miss williams entered with mam’zelle.

“what is all this?” asked miss williams, impatiently. “what is it that mam’zelle is complaining of? i can’t make head or tail of it.”

“it is a ping,” wailed mam’zelle, beginning to despair of making miss williams understand.

“i think mam’zelle has noises in her ears,” said alicia, politely. “she hears pings and pongs, she says.”

a bubble fell near mam’zelle and burst. “ping!”

mam’zelle jumped violently and dug miss williams unexpectedly in the ribs with her finger. “there it comes again. ping, it said!”

“don’t poke me like that, mam’zelle,” said miss williams, coldly, whereupon another bubble burst, and yet another, and two pings sounded almost together. miss williams began to look puzzled.

“i go,” said mam’zelle, and took a step towards the door. “i go. there is something abominable in this room!”

miss williams firmly pulled mam’zelle back. “mam’zelle, be sensible. i heard the noise, too. i cannot imagine why the girls do not hear it.”

the girls suddenly decided they had better hear the next ping—so, when it came, they all called out together.

“ping! i heard it, i heard it!”

“silence,” said miss williams, and the girls stopped at once—just in time for a bubble to descend on mam’zelle’s nose and explode with an extra loud ping.

mam’zelle shrieked. “it was a bobble! i saw a bobble and it went ping.”

miss williams began to think that mam’zelle really must be mad this morning. what was this “bobble” now?

and then miss williams herself saw a “bobble” as mam’zelle called it. the bubble sailed right past her nose, and she gasped. it pinged beautifully on the desk and disappeared.

miss williams looked silently up at the ceiling. her sharp eyes saw the three flat pellets there—and saw a bubble forming slowly on one. she looked back at the class, which, trying not to laugh, but not succeeding very well, gazed back innocently at her.

miss williams’ lips twitched. she didn’t know what the girls had done, nor exactly what the trick consisted of—but she couldn’t help feeling that it was very ingenious—yes, and very funny, too, especially when played on someone like poor mam’zelle dupont, who could always be relied on to take fright at anything unusual.

“mam’zelle, take your class out into the courtyard to finish the lesson,” she said. “there will be no pings there. and if i were you i would give the housemaid instructions to take a broom and sweep the ceiling before you next take a class in this room.”

this last suggestion reduced mam’zelle to a state of such astonishment that she could only stand and stare after miss williams’ departing figure. sweep the ceiling! was miss williams in her right mind?

the class began to giggle again at mam’zelle’s astounded face—and then as another ping sounded mam’zelle plunged for the door. “allons,” she said. “we have been much disturbed. we go to the courtyard! come now, we will leave behind these bad pings and pongs and go to do some work.”

the story of the pellets and their pings flew through the school and made every girl gasp and laugh. there were so many visitors to the upper fourth form room that miss williams grew quite cross.

she stood a broom by the door. “anyone else who comes can sweep the ceiling six times,” she said. “and let me tell you, it’s not as easy as it looks!”

“oh—that has done me good,” said alicia that night. “i’ve never laughed so much in my life. mam’zelle’s face when that first bubble pinged! i nearly died!”

“miss williams was rather a sport about it, wasn’t she?” said darrell. “she spotted the trick all right, and wanted to laugh. i saw her lips twitching. i’ll be sorry to leave her form and go into the fifth.”

“yes—next term most of us will be up in the fifth,” said sally. “goodness, how queer it will seem to be so far up the school.”

“i’ve liked this term,” said darrell, “although it had its horrid bits—like when i lost my place as head-girl.”

“i was glad when you got it back again,” said ruth, speaking suddenly on her own, as she had done several times lately. she looked affectionately at darrell. she had had a great admiration for her ever since darrell had put things right for her—and had not told connie. miss williams had quite casually told ruth that although she had been disappointed in her exam paper, she thought probably she had passed all right—and that if connie didn’t, she hoped ruth wouldn’t very much mind her twin being left down in the fourth, whilst she, ruth, went up into the fifth.

so it looked as if things would be better next term. connie would soon get over the separation, and, after all, they would continually see each other in the dormy and at meal-times.

the last few days of the term flew by. the breaking-up day seemed to come all at once. the usual pandemonium broke out. mistresses began to feel as if they were slowly going mad as girls whirled past them, shouting and calling, and trunks were hurled about, night-cases lost, rackets strewn all over the place, and an incessant noise raged in every tower.

the train-girls went off first, and were loudly cheered as the coaches moved off down the drive. “write to us! see you next term! be good if you can! hurrah!”

darrell went to find felicity, who seemed to be continually disappearing. she found her exchanging addresses with susan. june had gone with the train-girls, and darrell had noticed that felicity had not even bothered to wave good-bye to her. so that friendship was finished with. good! darrell still thought of june with dislike, but now that her little sister was no longer dragged around by june, but was standing on her own feet, she had lost the desire to slap june hard!

“felicity! as soon as i find you and stand you by the front door, you disappear again,” said darrell. “daddy will be here soon with the car. for goodness’ sake come with me and don’t leave me again. where’s your bowler hat? you’ve got to take it home with you in case you go riding in the hols.”

“it was here a minute ago,” said felicity, looking round. “oh no, look—that pest of a katie has got it—what an ass she looks—her head’s miles too big for it. katie! katie! give me my bowler!”

“felicity! is there any need to yell like that?” said miss potts as she hurried by, almost deafened.

“oh, potty, i haven’t said good-bye to you, potty!” yelled felicity. darrell felt quite shocked to hear felicity call her form-mistress potty.

“felicity!” she said. “don’t call her that.”

“well! you told me that everyone was allowed to on the last day of term,” said felicity. “potty!”

belinda came by with irene’s music-case. “anyone seen irene? she wants her music-case and i’ve just found it.”

she disappeared and irene came along, groaning. “where’s my wretched music? i put it down for a moment and some idiot has gone off with it.”

“belinda’s got it. hey, belinda, belinda!”

mam’zelle came walking by with her fingers in her ears and an agonized expression on her face. “these girls! they have gone mad! i am in an asylum. why do i teach mad girls? oh this noise, it goes through my head.”

“mam’zelle! mam’zelle! good-bye. my car’s come.”

“au revoir, mam’zelle. i say, is she deaf?”

“hurrah! there’s our car. come on, irene.”

clarissa came by, excitement making her green eyes gleam. she looked very pretty. “mother’s come,” she shouted to bill. “come and see her. she wants to know if you can come and stay with me in the hols. bill, come and see my mother!”

gwendoline went out at the same time as bill and clarissa. drawn up by the great flight of steps was a magnificent bentley car, gleaming and shining. leaning out was a charming auburn-haired woman, beautifully dressed. a most distinguished-looking man sat beside her.

“mother!” shrieked clarissa. “you’ve come at last. this is bill. you said you’d ask her to stay in the hols!”

gwendoline gaped in amazement to see this gleaming car, and such parents—parents to be really proud of! but—how could they be clarissa’s? hadn’t gwen seen her dowdy grey-haired mother come and fetch her one sunday at half-term, in an old austin car?

“good-bye, gwen,” said clarissa, seeing her standing near, but she did not offer to introduce the girl to her mother.

“i thought that was your mother who came to take you out at half-term,” said gwen, unable to stop herself from looking surprised.

“oh no—that was my dear old governess,” said clarissa, getting into the car. “mother couldn’t come, so miss cherry popped over in her old car to take me out instead. fancy thinking she was my mother!”

gwen’s car was just behind, and mrs. lacy was looking out and waving.

“gwen! how are you? oh, you do look well! who was that pretty, attractive child that just went away in the beautiful bentley. is she in your form?”

“yes,” said gwen, kissing her mother.

“oh, i do hope she is a friend of yours,” said her mother. “just the kind of girl i’d like.”

“you saw her at half-term,” said gwen, sulkily. “and you didn’t like her. that’s clarissa carter.”

darrell and felicity looked at each other and giggled. how sorry gwen must be that she didn’t get clarissa’s friendship! as it was, it was bill who was going to spend most of the holidays with clarissa, and not gwen. poor gwen as usual wouldn’t be asked anywhere.

“there’s our car!” cried felicity suddenly. she caught mam’zelle round the waist. “good-bye, dear mam’zelle. see you next term!”

“ah, dear child!” said mam’zelle, quite overcome at felicity’s sudden hug. she kissed her soundly on each cheek and everyone grinned at felicity’s startled expression.

“good-bye!” cried darrell, waving to the rest of the girls. “see you in september. look out, belinda, you’re treading on somebody’s bowler!”

“it’s mine, it’s mine,” shrieked felicity, in anguish. “take your great foot off it, belinda.”

“you teach your young sister to be polite to her elders!” called belinda, as darrell and felicity went headlong down the steps, almost knocking over poor matron.

“good-bye, matron! good-bye, miss williams! good-bye, potty! hallo, mother! daddy, you look fine! hurrah, hurrah, it’s holidays!”

and into the car piled the two girls, shouting, laughing happy and completely mad. they leaned out of the window.

“good-bye! happy hols! see you soon again! good old malory towers—we’ll come back in september!”