18 mary-lou
after prep that night mary-lou scuttled back to the second-form room, which was now empty except for gwendoline, who was tidying up.
mary-lou went to daphne’s desk. gwendoline looked at her jealously. “what do you want in daphne’s desk? i can take her anything she’s forgotten. i wish you wouldn’t suck up to her so much, mary-lou.”
“i don’t,” said mary-lou. she opened the desk-lid and fished for the brown-paper parcel, now neatly tied up with string. “i’m going to the post with this for daphne. but don’t go and split on me, gwen. i know it’s against the rules.”
gwendoline stared at mary-lou in surprise. “you breaking the rules!” she said. “i don’t believe you ever did that before. you’re mad to think you can get to the post and back in time.”
“i shall. i’m taking the coast road,” said mary-lou, valiantly, though her heart failed her when she said it. “it’s only ten minutes there and back by that road.”
“mary-lou! you must be daft!” said gwendoline. “there’s a gale blowing and it’s dark as pitch. you’ll be blown over the cliff as sure as anything.”
“i shan’t,” said mary-lou, stoutly, though again her heart sank inside her. “and, anyway, it’s only a small thing to do for a friend. i know daphne particularly wants this parcel to go today.”
“daphne isn’t your friend,” said gwendoline, a flare of jealousy coming up in her again.
“she is,” said mary-lou, with such certainty that gwendoline was annoyed.
“baby!” said gwendoline, scornfully. “you’re too silly even to see that daphne only uses you because you can help her with her french. that’s the only reason she puts up with you hanging round her. she’s told me so.”
mary-lou stood looking at gwendoline, the parcel in her hand. she felt suddenly very miserable. “it’s not true,” she said. “you’re making it up.”
“it is true!” said gwendoline, spitefully. “i tell you daphne has said so herself to me heaps of times. what would a girl like daphne want with a mouse like you! you’re just useful to her, that’s all, and if you weren’t so jolly conceited you’d know it without being told!”
mary-lou felt as if it must be true. gwendoline would never say such a thing so emphatically if it wasn’t. she picked up the parcel, her mouth quivering, and turned to go.
“mary-lou! you don’t mean to say you’re going to bother with that parcel after what i’ve just told you!” called gwendoline, in surprise. “don’t be an idiot.”
“i’m taking it for daphne because i’m her friend!” answered mary-lou, in a shaky voice. “she may not be mine, but if i’m hers i’ll still be willing to do things for her.”
“stupid little donkey!” said gwendoline to herself, and began to slam books back on to shelves and to make a terrific cloud of dust with the blackboard duster.
she didn’t tell daphne that mary-lou had gone off into the darkness with her parcel. she was feeling rather ashamed of having been so outspoken. daphne might not like it. but after all it was nearly the end of the term, and there would be now no need for mary-lou to help daphne. she would probably be glad to be rid of mary-lou when she no longer needed her help with her french.
half-past seven came and the supper-bell rang. girls poured out of the different rooms and went clattering down to the dining-room. “oooh! coffee tonight for a change! and jammy buns and rolls and potted meat!”
they all sat down and helped themselves, whilst miss parker poured out big cups of coffee. she glanced round the table. “two empty chairs! who’s missing? oh, ellen, of course. who’s the other?”
“mary-lou,” said sally. “i saw her just after prep. she’ll be along in a minute, miss parker.”
but five minutes, ten minutes went by and there was no sign of mary-lou. miss parker frowned.
“surely she must have heard the bell. see if you can find her, sally.”
sally sped off and came back to report that mary-lou was nowhere to be found. by this time gwendoline was in a great dilemma. she and she only knew where mary-lou was. if she told she would get mary-lou into trouble. surely she would be back soon? maybe she had had to wait at the post-office!
then she suddenly remembered something. the post-office shut at seven! it wouldn’t be any use mary-lou trying to post a parcel there, because it would be shut. why hadn’t she thought of that before? then what had happened to mary-lou?
a cold hand seemed to creep round gwendoline’s heart and almost stop her breathing. suppose—suppose that the wind had blown little mary-lou over the cliff? suppose that even now she was lying on the rocks, dead or badly hurt! the thought was so terrible that gwendoline couldn’t swallow her morsel of bun and half-choked.
daphne thumped her on the back. gwendoline spoke to her in a low, urgent voice.
“daphne! i must tell you something as soon after supper as possible. come into one of the practice-rooms where we shall be alone.”
daphne looked alarmed. she nodded. when supper was finished she led the way to one of the deserted practice-rooms and switched on the light. “what’s the matter?” she asked gwendoline. “you look like a ghost.”
“it’s mary-lou. i know where she went,” said gwendoline.
“well, why on earth didn’t you tell miss parker then?” asked daphne, crossly. “what is the matter, gwen?”
“daphne, she took your precious parcel to the post just after seven o’clock,” said gwendoline. “she took the coast road. do you think anything’s happened to her?”
daphne took this in slowly. “took my parcel to the post? whatever for! at this time of night, too.”
“she went all soppy and said that although it meant her going out in the dark and the wind, she’d do it because you were her friend,” said gwendoline.
“why didn’t you stop her, you idiot?” demanded daphne.
“i did try,” said gwendoline. “i even told her that you were not her friend—you only found her useful for helping you with your french, as you’ve often and often told me, daphne—and you’d think that would stop anyone from going off into the dark on a windy night, wouldn’t you, to post a silly parcel?”
“and didn’t it stop her?” said daphne, in a queer sort of voice.
“no. she just said that she would take it for you because she was your friend,” said gwendoline, rather scornfully. “she said you might not be her friend, but she was yours, and she’d still be willing to do things for you.”
gwendoline was amazed to see tears suddenly glisten in daphne’s eyes. daphne never cried! “what’s up?” said gwendoline in surprise.
“nothing that you’d understand,” said daphne, blinking the tears away savagely. “good heavens! fancy going out on a night like this and taking the coast road—just because she wanted to take that parcel for me. and the post-office would be shut too! poor little mary-lou! what can have happened to her?”
“has she fallen over the cliff, do you think?” asked gwendoline.
daphne went very white. “no—no, don’t say that!” she said. “you can’t think how awful that would be. i’d never, never forgive myself!”
“it wouldn’t be your fault if she did,” said gwendoline, surprised at this outburst.
“it would, it would! you don’t understand!” cried daphne. “oh, poor kind little mary-lou! and you sent her out thinking i didn’t like her—that i only just used her! i do like her. i like her ten times better than i like you! she’s kind and generous and unselfish. i know i did use her at first, and welcomed her just because she could help me—but i couldn’t help getting fond of her. she just gives everything and asks nothing!”
“but—you told me heaps of times you only put up with her because she was useful,” stammered gwendoline, completely taken aback by all this, and looking very crestfallen indeed.
“i know i did! i was beastly. it was the easiest thing to do, to keep you from bothering me and nagging me about mary-lou. oh, i shall never, never get over it if anything has happened! i’m going after her. i’m going to see if i can find her!”
“you can’t!” cried gwendoline, in horror. “hark at the wind! it’s worse than ever!”
“if mary-lou can go out into that wind to post a stupid parcel for me, surely i can go out into it to find her!” said daphne, and a look came into her pretty, pale face that gwendoline had never seen before—a sturdy, determined look that gave her face unexpected character.
“but, daphne,” protested gwendoline, feebly, and then stopped. daphne had gone out of the little music-room like a whirlwind. she ran up to the dormy and got her mackintosh and sou-wester. she tore down to the cloak-room and put on her wellingtons. nobody saw her. then out she went into the night, flashing on her torch to see her way.
it was a wild night, and the wind howled round fiercely. it took daphne’s breath away as she made her way to the coast road up on the cliff. whatever would it be like there! she would be almost blown away.
she flashed her torch here and there. there was nothing to be seen but a few bent bushes, dripping with rain.
she went a little further and began to call loudly and desperately.
“mary-lou! mary-lou! where are you?”
the wind tore her words out of her mouth and flung them over the cliff. she called again, putting her hands up to her mouth: “mary-lou! mary-lou! mary-lou!”
and surely that was a faint call in answer. “here! here! help me!”