10 the two mam’zelles
half-term came and went. sally and darrell went out together with darrell’s parents and had a lovely time. to gwendoline’s disappointment daphne’s parents did not visit her, so there was no chance of being asked out to meals with daphne, or going off in a magnificent car.
“i wanted to see your mother,” said gwendoline. “she looks so lovely in her photo.”
on daphne’s dressing-table stood a photograph of a very beautiful woman, in a flowing evening gown, with gleaming jewels round her lovely neck. everyone had admired it.
“you aren’t much like your mother, all the same,” said darrell, critically, to daphne. “she’s got wide-set eyes—and yours are rather near together. and your nose isn’t the same.”
“everybody isn’t always like their mother,” said daphne. “i take after my father’s family, i suppose. i have an aunt who is very, very beautiful.”
“and i suppose you are considered to resemble her, daphne?” said jean, in her quiet, amused voice. “what it is to have beautiful and distinguished relatives! i have a plain mother, who’s the kindest darling on earth—and quite an ugly father—and all my aunts are as plain as i am! but i don’t care a bit. they’re jolly good fun, and i like the whole lot.”
gwendoline asked daphne if she would like to go out with her at half-term, and daphne accepted graciously. mrs. lacey, gwendoline’s mother, was very struck with the beautiful girl and her charming smile. as for miss winter, the governess, who always most faithfully came to see her darling gwen every half-term, she could hardly take her eyes off her, which annoyed gwendoline very much.
“such a nice friend for you, dear,” said mrs. lacey to gwendoline. “such beautiful manners! and how rich her people must be to own a yacht and all those cars. wouldn’t it be nice if you could go and stay with them?”
“ssh, mother,” said gwendoline, afraid that daphne would hear. but daphne was far too busy charming poor miss winter. she played up to gwendoline very well too, remarking on her friend’s brilliance, her clever comments in class, and what a favourite she was with the teachers.
mrs. lacey listened with pride and pleasure. “well, you never told me these things in your letters, gwen darling,” she said, fondly. “you’re too modest!”
gwendoline felt a little embarrassed and began to hope that daphne wouldn’t lay it on too thickly—if she did, her mother would expect a wonderful report, and gwendoline knew perfectly well there was no hope of that.
belinda and irene went out together, both forgetting their hats, and both returning without their gloves. they went with belinda’s parents, who appeared to be as bad as belinda herself, for they lost the way when bringing the girls back to malory towers, and turned up over an hour late, much to miss parker’s annoyance. she could not bear the time-table to be played about with. but neither belinda nor irene noticed her cold manner as they went noisily into the room to report their return to her.
alicia and betty had gone out together, of course, and had come back full of giggles. apparently one of alicia’s brothers had been in the party, and had related with much gusto all the tricks that he and his class had been up to that term.
to everyone’s surprise jean had asked the bad-tempered, irritable ellen to come out with her! ellen had refused at first, rather ungraciously—and then had unexpectedly said she would. but it had not been a very pleasant outing, for ellen had been rather silent and had not tried in any way to be pleasant to her hosts. she seemed sunk into herself, and jean was sorry she had asked her.
“you might have been a bit more cheerful, ellen,” she said, as they came into the school again. “you hardly spoke and you didn’t laugh once even when my father made some quite good jokes!”
“well, don’t ask me out again then,” said ellen, snappily, and turned away. jean caught the gleam of tears in her eyes. funny girl! so touchy that nobody could say a word to her without getting their head bitten off! jean was beginning to be tired of her efforts to be nice to ellen.
“now we can look forward to christmas!” said darrell, with satisfaction. “half-term’s over.”
“we’ve got those awful french plays to mug up now,” groaned alicia. “whatever possessed the two mam’zelles to think up such a horrible thing for the second form to do? who wants to see us perform french plays?”
each form had to produce some sort of entertainment at the end of the term. it was the lot of the second form to learn two french plays, one chosen by mam’zelle dupont, the other by mam’zelle rougier.
it was over the choosing of the girls to play the different characters in these plays that the two mam’zelles almost came to blows.
in one play there was a princess—the princess true-heart. in the other there was an angel—the angel of goodness. mam’zelle dupont wanted her favourite, daphne, to play both parts. she pictured the pretty, golden-haired girl as the princess—ah, how wonderful she would look! and as an angel! truly daphne was made for the part of an angel!
but mam’zelle rougier unfortunately had quite different ideas. “what! you would choose that imbecile of a daphne to play two good parts like that!” scoffed mam’zelle rougier. “she could never learn half the words—and her pronunciation is ab—om—in—able! you know it. i will not have that girl in a good part.”
“ah, but she will look the part to perfection!” cried mam’zelle dupont, sweeping her arms wide apart to emphasize her words. “she looks a real princess—and when she smiles, it is truly the smile of an angel.”
“bah!” said mam’zelle rougier, rudely. “she is one of your favourites, your little pets. now sally would do well in one of those parts—she would learn well and her pronunciation is good. or darrell. or even mary-lou would be better than daphne, for she at least speaks french as it should be spoken.”
“you are mad!” cried mam’zelle dupont. “as if any of those girls could play such parts as these. i insist on daphne playing the parts.”
“then i shall not have anything to do with the plays,” said mam’zelle rougier, stiffly. “it is always a mistake to do as you do, mam’zelle dupont, and have favourites—and when it comes to forcing them on me, it is finished!”
“i do not have favourites!” said mam’zelle dupont, untruthfully, tapping her foot on the ground. “i like all the girls just the same.”
mam’zelle rougier snorted disbelievingly. “then you are the only one who thinks so,” she said. “good day, mam’zelle. i cannot stand arguing here, talking nonsense about such girls as daphne.”
she swung round and walked off stiffly, holding her thin bony body like a stick. plump little mam’zelle dupont stared after her angrily. favourites, indeed! how dared mam’zelle say things like that to her? never would she speak to mam’zelle rougier again. never, never, never! she would leave malory towers. she would go back to her beloved france. she would write to the newspapers about it. mam’zelle dupont made a noise like the growling of a dog, and startled miss potts considerably as she came in at the door.
“don’t you feel well, mam’zelle?” she said, rather alarmed at mam’zelle’s red face and glaring eyes.
“i do not feel at all well. i have been insulted,” said mam’zelle dupont. “i am not to be allowed to choose the girls in my own plays. mam’zelle rougier objects to my choosing the pretty, charming daphne for the princess. she will not even allow me—me, mam’zelle dupont—to give her the part of the angel of goodness!”
“well, i must say i agree with her,” said miss potts, sitting down and arranging her papers. “daphne always seems a double-faced little creature to me.”
“you too are in the plot against me!” said mam’zelle, going all dramatic, and working herself up into a tearful rage. “you too! ah, these cold english people! ah, these . . .”
miss potts was very glad indeed to hear a knock at the door at that moment. she didn’t like dealing with mam’zelle in these moods. matron came in, smiling. “can i have a word with you, mam’zelle?” she asked.
“no, you cannot,” said mam’zelle, fiercely. “i am upset. my heart it beats so—and so—and so. but i tell you this—i will choose what girl i wish for my plays. ah-h-h-h!”
and, making a noise like a dog again, mam’zelle walked angrily from the room, leaving matron quite stupefied. “whatever is she talking about?” she asked miss potts.
“oh, she’s had some sort of upset with the other mam’zelle,” said miss potts, beginning to add up marks. “they get across one another at times, you know. but this appears to be more serious than usual. well, they’ll have to sort out their own tangles!”
mam’zelle dupont and mam’zelle rougier took it in turns to train the girls in the two french plays. mam’zelle dupont put daphne into the two principal parts each time she took the play, much to the girl’s gratification. but, equally promptly, mam’zelle rougier relegated her to a minor part the next day and put sally and darrell into the principal ones. it was most muddling.
neither mam’zelle would give way. the quarrel appeared to be deadly and serious. they looked the other way when they met. they never spoke to one another. the girls thought it was a great joke, but on the whole they took mam’zelle dupont’s part, for they liked her much the better of the two. they did not approve of her choice of daphne for the principal parts, but that couldn’t be helped.
belinda, intrigued by the quarrel, did a masterly set of caricatures of mam’zelle rougier, taller and bonier than ever. she drew her with a dagger in her hand, stalking poor mam’zelle dupont. she drew her hiding behind a bush with a gun. she drew her pouring poison into a tea-cup to present to her enemy.
the girls giggled over the pictures. alicia was very struck by them. a wicked idea came into her head.
“belinda! mam’zelle dupont would adore these pictures! you know what a sense of humour she has. she ought to see them. put them on her desk tomorrow afternoon, just before she takes french translation—and watch her face when she opens the book!”
“i bet we shan’t have any french translation tomorrow afternoon once she sees the pictures!” giggled betty, and the others agreed.
belinda bound the pictures neatly into a book. she had put no name to them, but they were so cleverly drawn that anyone could see at once that they were meant to represent the two mam’zelles. “i’ll pop it on the desk just before the afternoon class,” she said. “and you can jolly well all of you do my prep for me tonight, to repay me for getting you off your french translation tomorrow!”
alicia whispered something to betty. betty looked startled and then grinned broadly. alicia had just told her something interesting. “it isn’t mam’zelle dupont who’s taking us tomorrow. it’s mam’zelle rougier! watch out for fireworks!”
