The Naughtiest Girl in the School (18 page)

BOOK: The Naughtiest Girl in the School
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“Have you told anybody about this secret?” asked Rita.

“Yes, one person,” said Elizabeth. “It’s a grown-up, Rita.”

“What did the grown-up say when you told her?” asked William.

“She hasn’t said anything yet,” said Elizabeth. “I told her the secret in a letter, and she hasn’t answered my letter yet. I only wrote it yesterday.”

William, Rita, and the monitors spoke together for a little while. Everyone was puzzled to know what to do. It was a very serious matter, and somehow it had to be dealt with.

“The Beauty and the Beast aren’t here tonight,” said Nora, looking towards the back of the room. “They are worried about Joan Townsend being ill. Only Miss Ranger and Mr. Johns are here. If the others were here we could ask them for advice again-but somehow I feel I’d like to settle it without asking Miss Ranger or Mr. Johns.”

“I think I know what we’ll do,” said William at last. “We’ll leave the matter until Elizabeth has had an answer to her letter.”

“Good,” said Rita. She hammered on the table.

“Elizabeth,” she said, “we are going to leave the matter until you have had an answer to your letter. Will you please come to me and tell me when you have?”

“Yes, Rita,” said Elizabeth gratefully. “I think the person I wrote to will be very, very angry with me, and I wish I could tell you all about it, but I can’t.”

“Well, it seems to me as if Elizabeth is being punished quite enough without us saying anything more,” said William. “We’ll leave it for a day or two. Then please go to Rita, Elizabeth, and tell her what answer you have received.”

Elizabeth sat down, glad that things were not worse. She thought the children were very fair and just. She hadn’t even been punished! When the two shillings were given out to everyone Elizabeth put hers back into the box.

“I won’t have it this week,” she said. “I’ll do without it.”

“Good girl.” said William. There was a nicer feeling in the room at once. Everyone felt that Elizabeth had tried to make up a bit for her mistake.

After the Meeting, Elizabeth went to ask how Joan was. The Matron came to the door of the San. and shook her head.

“She’s not any better,” she said. “She’s worrying about something, the doctor says-and she even says she doesn’t want to see her mother, though we have asked her if she would like us to send for her!”

“Oh,” said Elizabeth, and ran away in dismay. Now Joan didn’t want to see her mother-and Elizabeth had written to ask her to come!

“I always seem to do the wrong thing!” said Elizabeth to herself. “I wish I could go and tell Rita everything-then perhaps she could help me-but I can’t do that without giving Joan away. She would hate to think that anyone knew her cake didn’t come from her mother after all! Oh dear! Whatever is going to happen? I wish Mrs. Townsend would hurry up and write to me.”

CHAPTER 21

Joan’s Mother Arrives

Two days later Joan was seriously ill, and the Matron and doctor were very worried indeed.

“We must send for her mother,” said Miss Belle at once.

“The child begs us not to send for her,” said Matron in a puzzled voice. “It is very strange. I hardly know whether it would be good for Joan to see her-she seems so much against having her mother sent for.”

“Well,” said Miss Best, “the mother ought to come, for her own sake, if not for Joan’s. She would be very angry if we did not send for her. We can tell her that Joan is behaving rather queerly about her. It may be her illness that is making her think funny thoughts.”

But Mrs. Townsend arrived before she was sent for!  She had received Elizabeth’s queer letter, and had packed a bag, and taken a train to Whyteleafe the same day.

Elizabeth saw the taxi coming up through the archway of the school wall, but she did not know that Mrs. Townsend was inside it. She did not see her get out, pay the man, and ring the bell.

Mrs. Townsend was shown into the headmistresses’ drawing-room at once. Miss Belle and Miss Best were most astonished to see her.

“I’ve come about Joan,” said Mrs. Townsend. She was a small, sad-looking woman, beautifully dressed, and with large eyes just like Joan’s. “How is she?”

“Not any better, I’m afraid,” answered Miss Belle. “But how did you know she was ill?” she asked in surprise.

“I had a letter from a girl called Elizabeth Allen,” said Mrs. Townsend. “A very queer letter - about Joan’s birthday. Did she tell you anything about it?”

“No,” said Miss Belle, even more surprised. “I know nothing about it. May we see the letter?”

Mrs. Townsend gave the two mistresses Elizabeth’s smudgy letter. They read it in silence.

“So that is what Elizabeth wanted the money for!” said Miss Best, her lovely smile showing for a moment. “Well! Children are always surprising-but Elizabeth is the most astonishing child we have ever had-so naughty and yet so good-so defiant, and yet so kindhearted and just!”

“I understand now why Joan keeps saying that she doesn’t want you to be sent for, Mrs. Townsend,” said Miss Belle. “She is ashamed, poor child, because she thought you had sent her those presents-and now she finds you didn’t-and she is be-wildered and hurt.”

“I think perhaps I ought to explain a few things to you,” said Mrs. Townsend. “I must explain them to Joan too.”

“Yes, please tell us anything that will help us with Joan,” said Miss Best.

“Well,” said Joan’s mother, “Joan had a twin, a boy called Michael. He was the finest, loveliest boy you ever saw, Miss Best. His father and I couldn’t help loving him more than we loved Joan, because we both wanted a boy, and we didn’t care much for girls. He was brave and bonny and always laughing-but Joan was always rather a coward, and beside Michael she seemed sulky and selfish”

“Don’t you think that might have been because you made such a fuss of the boy, and perhaps rather left Joan out?” asked Miss Belle. “She may have been jealous, and that does queer things to a child.”

“Yes-you may be right,” said Mrs. Townsend. “Well-when they were three, both children feel ill— and Michael died. And because we loved him so much, we both wished that-that…”

“That Joan had been taken and Michael had been left to you?” said Miss Best gently. “Yes, I understand, Mrs. Townsend-but you did a great wrong to poor Joan. You have never forgiven her for being the only child left. Does Joan know she had a twin?”

“She soon forgot,” said Mrs. Townsend, “and we didn’t tell her as she grew older. I don’t think she knows even now that she ever had a brother.”

“Well, Mrs. Townsend, I think you should tell Joan this,” said Miss Best firmly. “She loves you very much, and is miserable because she can’t understand why you don’t seem to love her.”

“I do love her,” said Mrs. Townsend. “But somehow it is difficult to show it to Joan. When I got this queer little letter, telling me how somebody tried to buy Joan presents, pretending to be me, I felt dreadful. I felt I must come and see my poor little Joan at once.”

“Come and see her now,” said Miss Belle. “Tell her what you have told us. Joan will understand, and once she is sure of your love, she will not mind how little you show it! But it shouldn’t be difficult to love a child like Joan-she is so gentle and kind.”

“And what about Elizabeth?” asked Mrs. Townsend. “I must speak to her. I think she must be a very kind child, to try to make Joan happy.”

“Go and see Joan first,” said Miss Best.

So Mrs. Townsend was taken to the San. She opened the door and Matron beckoned her in, seeing at once that she was Joan’s mother.

“She’s asleep,” she whispered. “Come over here and sit by the bed till she wakes.”

Mrs. Townsend sat beside the bed. She looked at Joan. The little girl was thin and pale, and her sleeping face was so unhappy that her mother couldn’t bear it. She leant over Joan and kissed her gently on the cheek. Joan awoke and stared up. Her large eyes grew larger as she saw her mother.

She looked at her for a moment and then spoke, “Are you really here? Was it you who kissed me?”

“Of course,” said Mrs. Townsend, with tears in her eyes. “Poor little Joan! I was so very sorry to hear you were ill.”

Joan’s mother put her arms round her little girl and hugged her. Joan flung her arms round her mother’s neck in delight.

“Oh, Mother! I didn’t want you to come! But now I’m so happy!”

“I’m sorry I didn’t remember your birthday, darling,” said Mrs. Townsend. “I think we’ve got a few things to say to one another. Why didn’t you want me to come?”

“Because-because-oh, because I didn’t think you would be pleased that somebody pretended to be you and sent me things,” said Joan. “I was afraid of seeing you.”

“Now listen, Joan; I want to tell you something,” said Mrs. Townsend, sitting on the bed and cuddling Joan beside her. And she began to tell the little girl of her lost brother.

“You see, I grieved so much for him, that I almost forgot I had a little daughter to make up for him,” said Mrs. Townsend in a trembling voice. “You have always been so quiet and timid too, Joan— you never asked for things, never pushed yourself forward. So I never knew that you minded so much. You didn’t say a word.”

 “I couldn’t,” said Joan, “But I’m very happy now, Mother. This is the biggest surprise of my life. I understand things now! I do wish you had told me before. But it doesn’t matter. Nothing matters now that I’ve got you close beside me, and I know you really do love me, and won’t forget me again.”

“I will never forget you,” said Mrs. Townsend. “I didn’t think you minded at all- but now that I know what you have been thinking, I shall be the kind of mother you want. But you must hurry up and get better, mustn’t you?”

“Oh, I feel much, much better already,” said Joan.

And indeed she looked quite different. When Matron came in, she was surprised to see such a happy-looking child.

“I shall want lots of dinner today!” said Joan. “Because Mother is going to have it with me, Matron, and she wants to see how much I can eat!”

As they were eating their dinner together they talked about Elizabeth.

“I guessed that it was Elizabeth who sent those things, when you said it wasn’t you,” said Joan. “It was just the sort of mad, kind thing she would do! You know, Mother, she’s the first real friend I’ve had, and I think she’s splendid, though the first weeks she was here she was really the naughtiest, rudest girl in the school. The sad thing is-she’s made up her mind to go at half term, so I shan’t have her very much longer.”

“I want to see Elizabeth,” said Mrs. Townsend. “She wrote me such a funny, sad letter. If it hadn’t been for her letter, and what she did for your birthday, we shouldn’t have come to understand one another as we now do, Joan! And although she thinks she did a very wrong thing, somehow or other it has come right, because she really did mean to be kind.”

“Matron! Do you think Elizabeth might come and see me whilst my mother is here?” asked Joan, when Matron came in to take her temperature.

“We’ll see what your temperature is doing,” said Matron, pleased to see the empty plates. She slipped the thermometer into Joan’s mouth. She waited a minute and then took it out again.

“Good gracious! Just below normal!” she said. “You are getting better quickly! Yes-I think Elizabeth might come. I’ll send for her.”

Elizabeth was practicing her duet with Richard when the message came. One of the school maids brought it.

“Mrs. Townsend is in the San. with Joan and says she would like to see you,” said the maid. “Matron says you can go for twenty minutes.”

Elizabeth’s heart sank. So Mrs. Townsend had come to the school! She had got her letter-and now she was here, and wanted to see Elizabeth!

“I don’t want to go to the San,” said Elizabeth. “Oh dear-isn’t there any excuse I can make?”

“But I thought Joan was your friend?” said Richard in surprise.

“She is,” said Elizabeth, “but you see-oh dear, I can’t possibly explain. Things have just gone wrong, that’s all.”

The little girl put her music away, looking glum.

“Cheer up!” said Richard. “Things aren’t so bad when you go and face them properly!”

“Well, I’ll face them all right,” said Elizabeth, throwing her curls back. “I wonder what’s going to happen to me now?”

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