04 The Head Girl of the Chalet School (13 page)

The girls won’t be long now.”

They dispersed laughing, and half an hour later the whole party were ready to go out and make the most of what fine weather there was. Everyone was well wrapped up, and everyone wore stout boots, with heavily nailed soles. The door was opened, and they rushed out, shouting and laughing.

It was very silent outside, and a heavy grey sky showed that the Head was right in her surmise that the snow would soon be falling again. The lake lay black and lifeless in its frame of white, and the pines of the forest showed black against the snow. From Le Petit Chalet there came the sound of the juniors’ voices as they tumbled about, laughing and dancing, and making snowballs. Mrs. Russell left the girls, to go and see that they were all right, and Miss Maynard and Miss Wilson set to work to get the sides orgainsed. Grizel and Gertrud had “picked up” in the house, so the two parties separated, and were each given a part of what was the flower garden in summer. They were to settle their own tactics, and the one that was driven from its own part was to be accounted the vanquished side. Several of the youngest girls were busy making snowballs, piling them up ready, while the seniors directed their movements. Gertrud, anxious to keep the peace as far as possible, had chosen Deira for her own side, and now set her to over-seeing the efforts of the middles, while she herself posted various people at different places along her front. Then the battle began, and raged furiously. The mistresses had their work cut out to keep out of the line of fire, and yet be on the spot to see that no accidents happened.

Joey Bettany, fighting for Grizel, slipped in the snow, and went down with a wild yell, which was echoed by two of the enemy, who promptly bombarded her, so that it was some time before she was able to struggle to her feet again. Frieda Mensch, caught by Paula von Rothenfels of the other side, had her face well scrubbed with snow before she managed to retaliate in the same way. The white garden was trampled underfoot, and looked as if a regiment had been at work in it. The shouting became more and more breathless, and the laughter shriller, as the excited girls rushed and swooped, and flung handfuls of snow at each other. The dry powder could hurt no one, and the balls were not hard, so it was all very good fun. Even Deira lost her sullen air, and dashed about and shouted as hard as anyone.

Grizel, leading her side, and gradually forcing the other from its place, seemed to be everywhere at once.

Now she was driving one of the enemy away; now she was rescuing one of her own followers from a hot fire; now she was hurling snowballs as fast and as hard as she could go at her foes. One struck Deira in the face, though, as a matter of fact, it had been aimed at Gertrud. Gertrud, however, had dodged, and the snow passed by her, and caught Deira. The girl was already excited by the exercise. She scarcely knew what she was doing. To her eyes it looked as though Grizel had taken deliberate aim at her. She stooped, and grabbed at something which was lying on the ground and had been turned up in the scrimmage. Without hesitating one second, giving herself no time to realise what it was or what she was doing, she flung it with a sure aim, and caught the other side’s leader full on the temple.

Grizel flung up her hands, gave a little cry, and went down. At first it was looked on as a joke. Shrieking to the head-girl to “get up, an’ come on!” Joey dashed to the rescue from another point. It was only when Grizel lay there horribly still and silent that they realised that something had happened. The fight stopped at once. Gertrud dropped the ball she had poised to hurl at Jo, and hurried to the other girl’s side. Miss Maynard raced across the garden and dropped on her knees. Grizel lay quite still, her face as white as the snow, and a thin trickle of blood showing where the missile, whatever it was, had struck her. The mistress wiped it gently away, and her lips tightened as she saw the nasty cut.

“Go and get one of your mattresses, girls,” she said quietly. “Joey, go and ask Madame to come here; she is over at Le Petit Chalet. Gertrud, bring me the brandy from Matron, and ask her to get a bed ready at once.

The rest of you go in, all except Mary Burnett, Rosalie Dene, Deira O’Hagan, and Eva von Heiling. Luigia, will you please take charge till someone comes?”

They did as they were told at once. Joey shot off like an arrow to fetch her sister; Gertrud went to tell Matron; and two more of the seniors rushed up to the nearest dormitory to get a mattress. Mrs. Russell had come by the time they returned with it, and was kneeling by the side of the unconscious girl. Except for the little group round Grizel, the garden was deserted now. By Grizel’s side lay what had caused the accident –a sharp piece of stone, which Deira in her blind fury had flung without noticing what it was. She stood amongst the others, very white and frightened. No one, of course, had any idea that she had done it. In the heat of the battle her action had passed unnoticed. But she knew herself, and was already in an agony of remorse. They got Grizel on to the mattress, and then the girls named by Miss Maynard, helped by the staff who were there, slowly lifted it, and the girl was borne off to the sick-room, where Matron, calm and capable, already had a bed opened for her, and dressing ready for the wounds. Miss Wilson went off to ring up Dr. Jem at Innsbruck to bring him post-haste, while Mrs. Russell and Miss Maynard did what they could for the girl.

They had got her undressed and into bed, when she began to moan, and Madge Russell turned at once to her colleague. “Mollie, go and tell the girls that she is alive, please. I dare do nothing more till Jem comes –

I don’t know enough about it. It has been a near thing though, and I am afraid of concussion.”

Miss Maynard went off to relieve the anxious girls, who were in the big class-room talking in subdued tones. Deira was there too. She dared do nothing else but obey. She heard what the mistress said, and her face became whiter. Miss Maynard, preoccupied and worried, never noticed her. She gave Mrs. Russell’s message, and left the room. Outside, in the passage, she was startled to feel a tense, nervous grip on her arm.

Turning round, she saw Deira, and, eager to return to the sickroom as she was, she felt that she must stop to change the child’s look if she could. “Deira, my dear, don’t look like that. Grizel is alive; we hope she will soon be all right again.”

“You don’t understand,” said Deira in husky tones. “It’s my fault – if Grizel dies, I am a murderess! I did it!”

“IF GRIZEL DIES, I am a murderess,” repeated Deira tremblingly.

Miss Maynard looked at her keenly. She realised that the girl was on the verge of hysterics, so she pushed open the door of the study, and drew her in. “Now, Deira, sit down and tell me what you mean,” she said quietly, as she closed the door and switched on the lights, for the sky had darkened ominously, and the little room was dusky.

“It was my fault,” said Deira. “I was angry with Grizel. She threw a snowball at me, and it hit me. Sure, I thought it was on purpose she’d done it, and out of spite, so I picked up what was handy, and threw it.

‘Deed, Miss Maynard, I never saw what it was. I didn’t think at all, at all! Oh, Miss Maynard, will she die?”

“Nonsense,” said Miss Maynard briskly. “She’s alive, and she may be ill; I can’t tell you that she won’t be.

But we hope it won’t he very bad. Only, Deira, think what your temper has done, and might have done. If Grizel had been killed you would never have forgiven yourself, I think. Now I must go. Mrs. Russell may be wanting me.”

Deira nodded. She was putting a tremendous restraint on herself at the moment. Actually she wanted to scream and cry; to fling herself at the mistress’s feet; to pour out all her repentance. She realised, however, that this was scarcely the time to do it. Miss Maynard would be wanted in the sick-room, and, apart from that, if she gave way she knew that she would probably be unable to control herself, and would make trouble. She had made enough of that already.

Miss Maynard knew what was passing in her mind, and guessed that, for the present, the girl was best left to herself. “You may stay here, Deira,” she said gently. “I think you would rather do that than go back to the others. I will send someone to you later. If anything happens with Grizel, you shall be told at once.”

Then she left the room, and Deira, settling back in her chair, tried to recover herself a little.

The house was very silent now. The girls had gone to their form-rooms, and were trying to fix their minds on their work. Mademoiselle had come over from Le Petit Chalet, and was giving the Fourth their lesson in French literature. The Sixth were working at maths. by themselves, since Miss Maynard was still upstairs in the sick-room. The Fifth were doing geography with Miss Wilson; and Miss Durrant was busy with the babies in their own house. As for the Third, Gertrud had come to them, and was giving them German
Dictat
.

Outside, the snow had begun to drift down again, and in the study the only sound was the crackling of the wood in the stove. The quiet soothed Deira. She got up from the chair, and moved over to the stove to feed it, and to warm herself. Now that her excitement had gone, she felt cold.

She had been alone for more than an hour, when the door opened, and the Robin peeped in. “I want Tante Marguerite,” she said.

“Madame is with Grizel,” said Deira.

The Robin shut the door, and came up to her. “Is Grizel then sick?” she asked, lifting big dark eyes to the elder girl’s face.

“She – is not well,” stammered Deira. It was plain that the school-baby knew nothing of what had happened. Could she tell her?

The Robin was full of sympathy. “
Pauvre
Grizel!” she said. “Has she eaten too much of chocolate?”

“She – has had – an accident. Madame and Miss Maynard are with her,” said Deira.

“And you are sorry ‘cos you were cross with her? Never mind,
pauvre
Deira. She will soon he well,”

replied the Robin comfortingly. “Don’t look so sad. Me, I will stay with you.”

She slipped a chubby hand into Deira’s, and snuggled up. The Irish girl sank on to the sofa, and lifted the baby on to her knee. The Robin put warm arms round her neck, and hugged her.

“Oh, but ’tis the darlin’ you are!” murmured Deira, returning the hug.

The Robin took it quite calmly as her due. She was accustomed to being loved. Deira had never said as much to her before, for she had no particular love for small children, and had little to do with the juniors.

Still, that made no difference to the Robin, who possessed a large heart, and was ready with consolation whenever it was required.

“How did Grizel hurt herself?” she asked suddenly, when she had bestowed a few more hugs on the elder girl.

Deira did not dare to tell her of what had happened. For all she knew, it might be Mrs. Russell’s wish that the juniors should know nothing of what had happened. So she temporised. “She got hit with a stone which was flung by mistake,” she said, going as near the truth as she could.

“Oh!” The Robin drew in her breath in a long-drawn sigh. Then she turned and looked at Deira. “How dreadful!”

“It’s – awful!” said Deira unsteadily.

“An’ it’s dreadfuller for the one who threw the stone,” went on the Robin, pondering things out in her baby way. She looked up, and caught sight of Deira’s face. “Deira! was it you?”

There was a moment’s silence. Then, “Yes,” said Deira.

She half-expected the child to draw away from her in horror, but the Robin simply snuggled closer. “Oh,
pauvre
Deira!” she said, lapsing into the French that came easiest to her.

Deira had heard the others say more than once that the Robin was the best comforter to have when you were in trouble, but she had never felt it before. Now, as the baby’s arm encircled her neck, and the warm, soft weight tumbled into her lap, she felt the truth of it. “The stone – was – a mistake, Robin,” she said unevenly. “I – I didn’t know what it was I was throwing.”

“‘Course you didn’t! Never mind, Deira. Tante Marguerite will understand – she always does! She’ll know you’re sorry, and she’ll forgive you. So will Grizel. Don’t cry, poor Deira! ” For Deira had begun to cry, softly and bitterly, but in a very different way from what she had wished an hour ago. Unfortunately, once she had begun, she found it hard to stop; and when Mrs. Russell, leaving Grizel for a few minutes to find the girl whom she had just been told was the, cause of all the mischief, she came on a Niobe-like scene, for by this time the Robin was crying too, out of sympathy for a grief she could feel, even if she couldn’t understand it.

“Girls! Why are you crying like this?” asked the Head quietly. “Robin, you must stop at once.”

The Robin had been trained to complete obedience, so she choked back her sobs and said brokenly, “Tante Guito, Deira is
so
sorry.”

“I am sure she is,” said Mrs. Russell. “Crying won’t help matters, though. So you must both stop at once, and you can run over to Le Petit Chalet, Robin. I will come to you at bedtime, but I can’t come before. You will be good,
mein Voglein
, won’t you?”

“I will try,” said the Robin soberly.

“That’s my baby. Yes, you may kiss Deira. and then run away. Joey shall come presently. Ask Gertrud to take you across – she is in the prefects’ room. And be sure you are well wrapped up.”

The Robin kissed what she could see of Deira’s face, and then trotted off to seek Gertrud, and give her Madame’s message. Deira still sobbed on, though she was making heroic efforts to check her sobs.

The Head gave her a minute or two. Then she stooped over her. “Deira, I want you to try to control yourself. You can if you try. I cannot stay here long, for I must go back to Grizel. But I can’t leave you like this. Come!”

Deira fumbled for her handkerchief, and the Head put her own into the hot hands. Then, while the girl dried her eyes, Madge Russell made up the fire in the stove again, and made the room look better with a few deft touches here and there. When she thought that Deira had herself in hand, she spoke again. “Deira, Miss Maynard tells me that you say that you are to blame for what has happened.”