8 'you’re head-girl, aren’t you?’
when gwendoline heard that it was clarissa who had pushed her in, she didn’t believe it. she made her way over to where an apologetic clarissa was standing.
“who pushed me in, clarissa?” she demanded. “they keep saying it was you, the idiots! as if you’d do a thing like that!”
“oh, gwendoline. i’m so very sorry but actually it was me,” said clarissa, quite distressed. “i slipped and fell, and bumped against you—and in you went. of course i wouldn’t have done it on purpose! i’m most terribly sorry about it!”
“oh, that’s all right then,” said gwendoline, pleased to see such a very apologetic clarissa. “it did give me an awful shock, of course—and i hurt my foot against the bottom of the pool—but still, it was an accident.”
clarissa was more apologetic still, which was balm to gwendoline’s wounded feelings. she liked to have the honourable clarissa apologizing so humbly. she made up her mind to be very sweet and forgiving, and then clarissa would think more than ever what a nice friend she was for anyone to have.
but the others spoilt it. they would keep coming up and yelling “jolly good push!” to clarissa, and “well done, clarissa—you got her in nicely!” and “i say, clarissa, that was a fine shove. do it again!”
“but i didn’t push her,” protested clarissa, time and time again. “you know i didn’t.”
“never seen such a good shove in my life!” said alicia, and really, gwendoline began to be quite doubtful as to whether clarissa really had meant to push her or not! then unfortunately clarissa suddenly saw the funny side of all the shouted remarks and began to laugh helplessly. this made gwen really cross, and she was so huffy with clarissa, that in great alarm, clarissa began to apologize all over again.
“look at the twins,” said alicia to sally. sally looked and laughed. connie was carefully rubbing ruth dry, and ruth was standing patiently, waiting for her sister to finish.
“why doesn’t connie leave her alone?” said sally. “ruth can do everything for herself—but connie always makes out she can’t. she’s too domineering for words!”
“and she’s not nearly so good as ruth is at lessons,” said alicia. “ruth helps her every night, or she would never do the work. she’s far behind ruth.”
“and yet she domineers over her the whole time!” said darrell, joining in. “i hate to see it—and i hate to see ruth putting up with it, too.”
“speak to her about it,” said alicia at once. “head-girl, aren’t you?”
darrell bit her lip. why did alicia keep on and on twitting her like this? she thought that perhaps it was partly envy—alicia knew she would not really make a good head-girl herself, and envied those who were, and tried to make them uncomfortable. she, darrell, ought not to take any notice, but she couldn’t help feeling annoyed about it.
“you’ve got a lot on hand now, haven’t you,” went on alicia, rubbing herself dry. “looking after young felicity—seeing that clarissa doesn’t get too much poison from dear gwendoline, trying to buck up ruth a bit, and make her stand up for herself—ticking off betty when she spoils our prep.”
darrell felt herself beginning to boil again. then a cool hand was laid on her shoulder, and she heard sally’s calm voice. “everything in good time! it’s a pity to rush things and spoil them—isn’t it, darrell? you can’t put things right all at once.”
darrell heaved a sigh of relief. that was what she ought to have said—in a nice calm voice! thank goodness sally had said it for her!
she gave sally a grateful smile. she determined to look up felicity a bit more, and try to prise her away from that objectionable june. she would put one of the others on to clarissa to offset gwendoline’s influence—and she would certainly have a few quiet words with ruth, and tell her not to let connie make such a baby of her.
“why,” thought darrell, “it’s quite absurd—whenever any of us speak to ruth, connie always answers for her. i really wonder she doesn’t answer for her in class, too!”
it was quite true that ruth hardly ever answered for herself. alicia might say to her, “ruth, can you lend me that french dicky for a moment,” but it would be connie who said, “yes, here’s the dictionary—catch!”
and sally might say, “ruth, don’t you want a new ruler—yours is broken,” but it would be connie who answered, “no, thanks, sally, she can use mine.”
it was annoying, too, to see how connie always walked a little in front of ruth, always offered an explanation of anything before her twin could say a word, always did any asking necessary. hadn’t ruth got a soul of her own—or was she just a weak echo or shadow of her stronger twin?
it was a puzzle. darrell decided to speak to ruth the next day, and she found a good chance when both of them were washing painting-jars in the cloakroom.
“how do you like malory towers, ruth?” she asked, wondering if ruth would be able to answer, if connie wasn’t there!
“i like it,” said ruth.
“i hope you’re happy here,” said darrell, wondering how to lead up to what she really wanted to say. there was a pause. then ruth answered politely.
“yes, thank you.”
she didn’t sound happy at all, darrell thought! why ever not? she was well up to the standard of work, she was good at all games, there was nothing dislikeable about her—and the summer term was fun! she ought to be very happy indeed!
“er—ruth,” said darrell, thinking desperately that sally would be much better at this kind of thing than she was, “—er—we think that you let yourself be—er—well nursed a bit too much by connie. couldn’t you—er—well, stand on your own feet a bit more? i mean . . .”
“i know what you mean all right,” said ruth, in a funny fierce voice. “if anyone knows what you mean, i do!”
darrell thought that ruth was hurt and angry. she tried again. “of course i know you’re twins—and twins are always so close to one another, and—and attached—so i quite understand connie being so fond of you, and . . .”
“you don’t understand anything at all,” said ruth. “talk to connie if you like, but you won’t alter things one tiny bit!”
and with that she walked out stiffly, carrying her pile of clean paint-jars. darrell was left by herself in the cloakroom, puzzled and rather cross.
“it’s not going to be any good to talk to connie, i’m sure,” thought darrell, rinsing out the last of the jars. “she’d be as fierce as ruth. she’s ruining ruth! but if ruth wants to be ruined, and made just a meek shadow of connie, well, let her! i can’t see that i can stop her!”
she took her pile of paint-jars away, and made up her mind that that particular difficulty could not be put right. “you can’t drag twins away from each other if they’ve always been together and feel like one person,” she decided. “why, some twins know when the other is in pain or ill, even if they are far apart. it’s no good putting those two against me. they must do as they like!”
the next thing to do was to ferret out felicity, and see how she was getting on. she ought to be more or less settled down now. perhaps she had made some more friends. if only she had others as well as june, it wouldn’t matter so much—but darrell felt that the strong-minded june would cling like a leech to someone like felicity, if felicity had no other friend at all!
so she found felicity in break, and asked her to come for a walk with her that evening. felicity looked pleased. to go for a walk with the head-girl of the upper fourth was a great honour.
“oh, yes—i’d love to come,” she said. “i don’t think june’s fixed anything for tonight.”
“what does it matter if she has?” said darrell, impatiently. “you can put her off, surely? i haven’t seen anything of you lately.”
“i like miss potts,” said felicity, changing the subject as she often did when darrell got impatient. “i’m still a bit scared of her—but my work’s a bit in advance of the form, really, darrell, so i can sit back and take things easy this first term! rather nice!”
“yes, jolly nice,” agreed darrell. “that’s what comes of going to a good prep school—you always find you’re in advance of the lowest form work when you go to a public school—but if you go to a rotten prep school, it takes years to catch up! er—how is june in her work?”
“brilliant—when she likes!” said felicity, with a grin. “she’s awfully good fun—frightfully funny, you know. rather like alicia, i should think.”
“too like alicia,” darrell thought to herself, remembering how wonderful she had thought alicia in her first term at malory towers. “isn’t there anyone else you like, felicity?” she asked her sister.
“oh, yes—i like most of my form,” said felicity. “they don’t seem to like june much, though, and sit on her hard. but she’s like indiarubber, bounces up again. there’s one girl i like awfully—her name’s susan. she’s been here two terms.”
“susan! yes, she’s fine,” said darrell. “plays lacrosse awfully well for a kid—and she’s good at gym, too. i remember seeing her in a gym display last term.”
“yes. she’s good at games,” agreed felicity. “but june says susan’s too pi for words—won’t do anything she shouldn’t, and she thinks she’s dull, too.”
“she would!” said darrell. “well, i’m glad you like susan. why don’t you make a threesome—you and june and susan? i don’t think june’s a good person to have for an only friend.”
“why, you don’t even know her!” said felicity in surprise. “anyway, she wouldn’t want susan in a threesome!”
a bell rang in the distance. “well, see you this evening,” said darrell. “we’ll go on the cliffs—but don’t you go and bring june, mind! i want you to myself!”
“right,” said felicity, looking pleased.
but alas, that evening a meeting was called of all the school certificate girls, and darrell had to go to it. she wondered if she could possibly squeeze time in for even a short walk with felicity. no, she couldn’t—she had that essay to do as well.
she sent a message to her sister by a second-former. “hey, felicity,” said the second-former, “compliments from head-girl darrell rivers, and she says she can’t take baby sister for a walky-walk tonight!”
felicity stared at her indignantly. “you know jolly well she didn’t say that!” she said. “what did she say?”
“just that,” said the cheeky second-former, and strolled off.
felicity translated the message correctly and was disappointed.
“darrell can’t go for a walk tonight,” she told june. “i suppose she’s got a meeting or something.”
“i bet she hasn’t,” said that young lady, scornfully. “i tell you, these fourth-formers, like alicia and darrell, don’t want to be bothered with us—and we jolly well won’t go bothering them! come on—we’ll go for a walk together!”
