Read the book: «The Twins at St. Clare's»
Enid Blyton
The Twins at St. Clare's
Published by Good Press, 2022
EAN 4064066372262
Table of Contents
The Twins Make Up Their Minds
The Twins Arrive At St. Clare’s
A Bad Beginning
A Little Trouble For The Twins
A Battle With Mam’zelle
Poor Miss Kennedy!
Janet is up to Tricks
The Great Midnight Feast
A Lacrosse Match—and a Puzzle
A Very Muddled Girl
Miss Kennedy Again
A Broken Window
The Four Truants
A Great Disappointment
A Terrible Quarrel
Sheila Does Her Bit
Kathleen Has A Secret
The Secret Is Out!
A Shock For Isabel
The Concert
The Last Day
The Twins Make Up Their Minds
Table of Contents
One sunny summer afternoon four girls sat on the grass by a tennis-court, drinking lemonade. Their rackets lay beside them, and the six white balls were scattered over the court.
Two of the girls were twins. Isabel and Patricia O’Sullivan were so alike that only a few people could tell which was Pat and which was Isabel. Both girls had dark brown wavy hair, deep blue eyes and a merry smile, and the Irish lilt in their voices was very pleasant to hear.
The twins were staying for two weeks with friends of theirs, Mary and Frances Waters. The four girls were talking, and Pat was frowning as she spoke. She took up her racket and banged it hard on the grass.
“It’s just too bad that Mummy won’t let us go to the same school as you, now that we have all left Redroofs School together. We’ve been friends so long—and now we’ve got to go to a different school, and we shan’t see each other for ages.”
“It’s a pity that Redroofs only takes girls up to fourteen,” said Isabel. “We could have stayed on together and it would have been fun. I loved being head-girl with Pat the last year—and it was fun being tennis-captain, and Pat being hockey-captain. Now we’ve got to go to another school that doesn’t sound a bit nice—and begin at the bottom! We’ll be the young ones of the school instead of head-girls.”
“I do wish you were coming to Ringmere School with us!” said Frances. “It’s such a nice exclusive school, our mother says. You know—only girls of rich parents, very well-bred, go there, and you make such nice friends. We have a bedroom to ourselves and our own study, and we have to wear evening dress at night, and they say the food is wonderful!”
“And we are going to St. Clare’s, where anybody can go, and the dormitories take six or eight girls and aren’t nearly as nicely furnished as the maids’ bedrooms are at home!” said Pat in a disgusted voice.
“I can’t imagine why Mummy made up her mind to send us there instead of to Ringmere,” said Isabel. “I wonder if she has quite decided. We’re going home tomorrow and we’ll both do our very very best to make her say we can go to Ringmere, Mary and Frances! We’ll ring you up in the evening and tell you.”
“We’ll jump for joy if you have good news,” said Mary. “After all, when you’ve been head-girls at a marvellous school like Redroofs, and had your own lovely bedroom and the best study with the best view, and a hundred girls looking up to you, it’s awful to have to start again in a school you don’t want to go to a bit!”
“Well, do your best to make your parents change their minds,” said Frances. “Come on—let’s have another set before tea!”
They all jumped up and tossed for partners. Isabel was a splendid player, and had won the tennis championship at Redroofs. She was really rather proud of her game. Pat was nearly as good, but much preferred hockey.
“They don’t play hockey at St. Clare’s, they play lacrosse,” said Pat, dismally. “Silly game, lacrosse—playing with nets on sticks, and catching a ball all the time instead of hitting it! That’s another thing I’ll tell Mummy—that I don’t want to play lacrosse after being hockey-captain.”
The twins thought hard of all the reasons they would put before their parents when they got home the next day. They talked about it as they went home in the train.
“I’ll say this, and you say that,” said Pat. “After all, we ought to know the kind of school that would be best for us—and St. Clare’s does sound too fierce for words!”
So the next evening the girls began to air their thoughts about schools. Pat began, and, as was her way, she attacked at once.
“Mummy and Daddy!” she said. “Isabel and I have been thinking a lot about what school we’re to go to next, and, please, we don’t want to go to St. Clare’s. Every one says it’s an awful school.”
Their mother laughed, and their father put down his paper in surprise.
“Don’t be silly, Pat,” said Mrs. O’Sullivan. “It’s a splendid school.”
“Have you quite decided about it?” asked Isabel.
“Not absolutely,” said her mother. “But Daddy and I both think it will be the best school for you now. We do think that Redroofs spoilt you a bit, you know—it’s a very expensive and luxurious school, and nowadays we have to learn to live much more simply. St. Clare’s is really a very sensible sort of school, and I know the Head and like her.”
Pat groaned. “A sensible school! How I do hate sensible things—they’re always horrid and ugly and stupid and uncomfortable! Oh, Mummy—do let us go to Ringmere School with Mary and Frances.”
“Certainly not!” said Mrs. O’Sullivan at once. “It’s a very snobbish school, and I’m not going to have you two girls coming home and turning up your noses at everything and everybody.”
“We wouldn’t,” said Isabel, frowning at Pat to make her stop arguing for a while. Pat lost her temper very easily, and that didn’t do when their father was there. “Mummy dear—be a pet—just let’s try at Ringmere for a term or two, and then, if you think we’re turning into snobs, you can take us away. But you might let us try. They play hockey there, and we do so like that. We’d hate to have to learn a new game, just when we’ve got so good at hockey.”
Mr. O’Sullivan rapped with his pipe on the table. “My dear Isabel, it will be good for you to start at the beginning again, and learn something new! I’ve thought the last year that both you girls have become very conceited, and thought far too much of yourselves. If you have to learn new things, and find you’re not so wonderful as you thought you were, it will be very good for you both!”
The twins went red. They were angry and hurt and almost ready to cry. Mrs. O’Sullivan felt sorry for them.
“Daddy doesn’t mean to be unkind,” she said. “But he is quite right, my dears. You’ve had a wonderful time at Redroofs, had things all your own way, been head-girls and captains, and really lived in luxury. Now you must show us what kind of stuff you are made of when you have to start as youngsters of fourteen and a half in a school where the top classes are eighteen years old!”
Pat looked sulky. Isabel’s chin shook as she answered.
“We shan’t be happy, and we shan’t try to be!” she said.
“Very well. Be unhappy!” said their father, sternly. “If that’s the sort of silly attitude you’ve learnt at Redroofs, I’m sorry we let you stay there so long. I wanted to take you away two years ago, but you begged so hard to stay, that I didn’t. Now say no more about it. I shall write to St. Clare’s myself tonight and enter you for next term. If you want to make me proud of you, you will cheer up and make up your minds to be good and hardworking and happy at your next school.”
Their father lighted his pipe and began to read his paper again. Their mother took up her sewing. There was no more to be said. The twins left the room together and went into the garden. They found their own secret place behind the thick old yew-hedge and flung themselves down on the ground. The evening sun threw its slanting golden rays around them, and they blinked in its brightness. Tears shone in Isabel’s eyes.
“I never thought Mummy and Daddy would be so hard,” she said. “Never!”
“After all, we ought to have some say in the matter,” said Pat, furiously. She took a stick and dug it hard into the ground. “I wish we could run away!”
“Don’t be silly,” said Isabel. “You know we can’t. Anyway, it’s cowardly to run away. We’ll have to go to St Clare’s. But how I shall hate it.”
“We’ll both hate it,” said Pat “And what’s more, I’m jolly well going to turn up my nose at everything there! I’m not going to let them think we’re babies of fourteen, just come from some silly prep school. I’ll soon let them know that we were head-girls, and tennis- and hockey-captains. How horrid Of Daddy to say we are conceited! We’re not a bit. We can’t help knowing that we’re good at nearly everything, besides being pretty and quite amusing.”
“It does sound a bit conceited when you talk like that,” said Isabel. “We’d better not say too much when we get to St. Clare’s.”
“I’m going to say all I like, and you must back me up,” said Pat. “People are going to know who we are, and what we can do! All the mistresses are going to sit up and take notice of us too. The O’Sullivan twins are going to be somebodies! And don’t you forget it, Isabel.”
Isabel nodded her dark head with its black waves of hair. “I won’t forget it,” she said. “I’ll back you up. My word, St. Clare’s will get a few surprises next term!”
The Twins Arrive At St. Clare’s
Table of Contents
The time soon came when the twins had to leave for the winter term at St. Clare’s. Their mother had had a list of things they were to take with them, and the twins examined it carefully.
“It’s not nearly such a long list as we had for Redroofs,” said Pat. “And golly—how few dresses we are allowed! Mary and Frances said that they were allowed to take as many frocks as they liked to Ringmere—and they had both got long evening dresses like their mother! Won’t they show off to us when they see us again!”
“And look—lacrosse-sticks instead of hockey-sticks!” said Isabel in disgust. “They might at least play hockey as well as lacrosse! I didn’t even bother to look at the lacrosse sticks Mummy bought for us, did you? And look—we are even told what to bring in our tuck boxes! We could take what we liked to Redroofs.”
“Just wait till we get to St. Clare’s. We’ll show that we can do as we like,” said Pat. “What time is the train tomorrow?”
“Ten o’clock from Paddington,” said Isabel. “Well—we shall get our first glimpse of the St. Clare girls there. I bet they’ll be a queer-looking crowd!”
Mrs. O’Sullivan took the twins to London. They taxied to Paddington Station, and looked for the St. Clare train. There it was, drawn up at the platform, labelled St. Clare. On the platform were scores of girls, talking excitedly to one another, saying good-bye to their parents, hailing mistresses, and buying bars of chocolate from the tea-wagons.
A simply-dressed mistress came up to the twins. She knew that they were St. Clare girls because they had on the grey coats that were the uniform of the school. She smiled at Mrs. O’Sullivan, and looked at the list in her hand.
“These are new girls,” she said, “and I am sure they must be Patricia and Isabel O’Sullivan, because they are so exactly alike. I’m your form-mistress, Miss Roberts, and I’m very pleased to see you.”
This was a nice welcome and the twins liked the look of Miss Roberts. She was young and good-looking, tall and smiling—but she had a firm mouth and both Pat and Isabel felt sure that she wouldn’t stand much nonsense from her form!
“Your carriage is over here, with the rest of your form,” said Miss Roberts. “Say good-bye now, and get in. The train will be going in two minutes.”
She went off to talk to some one else and the twins hugged their mother. “Good-bye,” said Mrs. O’Sullivan. “Do your best this term, and I do hope you’ll be happy at your new school. Write to me soon.”
The twins got into a carriage where three or four other girls were already sitting and chattering. They said nothing, but looked with interest at the scores of girls passing by their compartment to their places farther up the train.
At their last school the twins had been the oldest and biggest there—but now they were among the youngest! At Redroofs all the girls had looked at Pat and Isabel with awe and admiration—the two wonderful head-girls—but now the twins were looking at others in the same way! Tall, dignified girls from the top form walked by, talking. Merry-voiced girls from other forms ran to get their places, calling out to one another. Younger ones scrambled into the carriages as the guard went along to warn one that the train was about to go.
The journey was quite fun. Every one had packets of sandwiches to eat at half-past twelve, and the train steward brought bottles of ginger-beer and lemonade, and cups of tea. At half-past two the train drew in at a little platform. A big notice said “Alight here for St. Clare’s School”.
There were big school-coaches waiting outside and the girls piled themselves in them, chattering and laughing. One of them turned to Pat and Isabel.
“There’s the school, look! Up on that hill there!”
The twins looked. They saw a pleasant white building, built of large white stones, with two towers, one at each end. It looked down into the valley, over big playing-fields and gardens.
“Not nearly so nice as Redroofs,” said Pat to Isabel. “Do you remember how sweet our old school used to look in the evening sun? Its red roof was glowing, and it looked warm and welcoming—not cold and white like St. Clare’s.”
For a few minutes both girls were homesick for their old school and their old friends. They knew nobody at St. Clare’s at all. They couldn’t call out “Hallo, there!” to every one as they had done each term before. They didn’t like the look of any of the girls, who seemed much more noisy and boisterous than the ones at Redroofs. It was all horrid.
“Anyway, we are lucky to have got each other,” said Isabel to Pat. “I would have hated to come here all alone. Nobody seems to talk to us at all.”
It was the twins’ own fault, if they had but known it. They both looked “stuck-up” as one girl whispered to another. Nobody felt much inclined to talk to them or make friends.
There was the same rush of unpacking and settling in as there is at all boarding-schools. The big dormitories were full of girls putting away their things, hanging up their dresses and putting photographs out on their little dressing-tables.
There were a good many dormitories at St. Clare’s. Pat and Isabel were in number 7, where there were eight white beds, all exactly alike. Each was in its own cubicle surrounded by curtains that could be drawn open or closed, just as the girls pleased. Pat’s bed was next to Isabel’s, much to their joy.
When the girls had unpacked a tall girl came into the dormitory calling out, “Any new girls here?”
Pat and Isabel nodded their heads. “We are new,” said Pat.
“Hallo, twins!” said the tall girl, smiling, as she looked at the two sisters so exactly alike, “Are you Patricia and Isabel O’Sullivan? Matron wants to see you.”
Pat and Isabel went with the girl to where the school matron sat in her comfortable room, surrounded by cupboards, chests and shelves. She was a fat, jolly-looking person, but her eyes were very sharp indeed.
“You can’t deceive Matron over anything,” whispered their guide. “Keep in her good books if you can.”
Matron checked over sheets, towels and clothes with them. “You will be responsible for mending all your own belongings,” she said.
“Good gracious!” said Pat. “There were sewing maids at our other school to do that.”
“Shocking!” said Matron, briskly. “Well, there are no sewing-maids here. So be careful of your things, and remember that they cost your parents money.”
“Our parents don’t need to worry about torn clothes,” began Pat. “Why, once at Redroofs I got caught in some barbed wire, and everything I had on was torn to bits. They were so torn that the sewing-maid said she couldn’t mend a thing, and ...”
“Well, I would have made you mend every hole, every rent, every tear,” said Matron, her eyes beginning to sparkle. “There’s one thing I can’t bear, and that’s carelessness and waste. Now mind you ... What is it, Millicent?”
Another girl had come into the room with a pile of towels, and the twins were very glad that Matron’s attention was no longer given to them. They slipped out of the room quietly.
“I don’t like Matron,” said Pat. “And I’ve a jolly good mind to tear something so badly that it can’t be mended, and that would give her something to think about!”
“Let’s go and see what the school is like,” said Isabel, slipping her arm into Pat’s. “It seems much barer and colder somehow than dear old Redroofs.”
The twins began to explore. The classrooms seemed much the same as any classrooms, and the view from the windows was magnificent. The twins peeped into the studies. At their old school they had shared a fine study between them, but here there were no studies except for the top form girls and the fifth form. The younger girls shared a big common room, where there was a wireless, a gramophone and a big library of books. Shelves ran round the common room and each girl shared part of a shelf, putting her belongings there, and keeping them tidy.
There were small music rooms for practising, a fine art room, an enormous gym, which was also used for assembly and concerts, and a good laboratory. The mistresses had two common rooms and their own bedrooms, and the Head lived in a small wing by herself, having her own bedroom in one of the towers, and a beautiful drawing-room below.
“It’s not so bad,” said Pat, after they had explored everywhere. “And the playing-fields are fine. There are many more tennis courts here than Redroofs—but of course it’s a much bigger school.”
“I don’t like big schools,” said Isabel. “I like smaller schools, where you are somebody, not just a little nobody tucked away among heaps of others!”
They went into the common room. The wireless was on and a dance-band was playing cheerful music, which was almost drowned by the chatter of the girls. Some of them looked up as Pat and Isabel came in.
“Hallo, twins!” said a cheeky-looking girl with curly golden hair. “Which is which?”
“I’m Patricia O’Sullivan and my twin sister is Isabel,” said Pat.
“Well, welcome to St. Clare’s,” said the girl. “I’m Hilary Wentworth, and you’re in the same dormitory as I am. Have you been to boarding-school before?”
“Of course,” said Pat. “We went to Redroofs.”
“The school for snobs!” said a dark-haired girl, looking up. “My cousin went there—and didn’t she fancy herself when she came home! Expected to be waited on hand and foot, and couldn’t even bear to sew a button on a shoe!”
“Shut up,” said Hilary, seeing that Pat went red. “You always talk too much, Janet. Well, Patricia and Isabel, this isn’t the same kind of school as Redroofs—we work hard and play hard here, and we’re jolly well taught to be independent and responsible!”
“We didn’t want to come here,” said Pat. “We wanted to go to Ringmere School, where our friends were going. Nobody thought much of St. Clare’s at Redroofs.”
“Dear, dear, dear, is that so?” said Janet, raising her eyebrows till they were almost lost in the dark hair on her forehead. “Well, the point is, my dear twins—not what you think of St. Clare’s—but what St. Clare’s thinks of you! Quite a different thing. Personally, I think it’s a pity that you didn’t go somewhere else. I’ve a feeling you won’t fit in here.”
“Janet, do be quiet,” said Hilary. “It’s not fair to say things like that to new girls. Let them settle in. Come on, Patricia—come on, Isabel—I’ll show you the way to the Head’s room. You’ll have to go and say how-do-you-do to her before supper.”
Pat and Isabel were almost boiling over with rage at what dark-haired Janet had said. Hilary pushed the twins out of the room. “Don’t take too much notice of Janet,” she said. “She always says exactly what she thinks, which is very nice when she thinks complimentary things about people, but not so good when she doesn’t. You’ll get used to her.”
“I hope we shan’t,” said Pat stiffly. “I like good manners, something that was taught at our school anyway, even if it’s not known here!”
“Oh, don’t be stuffy,” said Hilary. “Look, that’s the Head’s room. Knock on the door first—and try some of your good manners on Miss Theobald!”
The twins knocked on the door. A pleasant, rather deep voice called “Come in!” Pat opened the door and the twins went in.
The Head Mistress was sitting at her desk, writing. She looked up and smiled at the girls.
“I needn’t ask who you are,” she said. “You are so alike that you must be the O’Sullivan twins!”
“Yes,” said the girls, looking at their new Head Mistress. She was grey-haired, with a dignified, serious face that broke into a lovely smile at times. She shook hands with each twin.
“I am very glad to welcome you to St. Clare’s,” she said. “I hope that one day we shall be proud of you. Do your best for us and St. Clare’s will be able to do its best for you!”
“We’ll try,” said Isabel, and then was quite surprised at herself to find that she had said that. She didn’t mean to try at all! She looked at Pat. Pat said nothing but stared straight in front of her.
“I know your mother quite well,” said Miss Theobald. “I was glad when she decided to send you here. You must tell her that when you write to her, and give her my kind regards.”
“Yes, Miss Theobald,” said Pat. The Head Mistress nodded at them with a smile, and turned to her desk again.
“What funny children!” she thought to herself. “Anyone might think they hated to be here! Perhaps they are just shy or homesick.”
But they were neither shy nor homesick. They were just two obstinate girls determined to make the worst of things because they hadn’t been sent to the school of their choice!
