"Blyton, Enid - St Clare's 04 - The Second Form At St Clare's (b)" - читать интересную книгу автора (Blyton Enid)

difficult that term-or even in Mam'zelle's class when she took irregular
French verbs, hated by every girl. But they did dislike it when she
spoilt, or tried to spoil, the English class, or the Art Class. ' It
spoils our reading of The Tempest, when you make idiotic remarks, or
flop about in your seat and make Miss Jenks keep on saying " Sit up I"'
said Hilary, angrily. ' Either behave badly enough to get sent out of
the room at once, idiot, or else keep quiet.' ' And if you dare to upset
your paint-water all over somebody again, and make us lose ten minutes
of the art class whilst we all get ticked off by Miss Walker I'll scrag
you,' said Carlotta, all in one breath. ' We wouldn't mind so much if
you did something really funny, like Bobby or Janet did last term-what
you do (sn'/funny-just idiotic, spoiling things for the whole class.* *o
I shall do what I like,' said Mirabel. *f You will not,' said Elsie,
spitefully. ' I'm head-girl of this form-with Anna-and we say you are to
behave yourself, or we'll know the reason why.' * * You do know the
reason why,' said Mirabel, pertly. 'Any one would think you were six
years old, the way you behave,' said Bobby, in disgust. ' Well-I warn
yon-you'll be sorry if you keep on like this. We're all getting tired of
you.' The explosion came during the Drama class. This was taken by the
new teacher, Miss Quentin, and was really rather an exciting dass. The
girls were to write and act their own play. Dark-eyed Miss Quentin was
full of good suggestions, and the play was almost written. The new
teacher was not much good at discipline. She relied on her good looks
and rather charming manner, and on the interest of her lessons, to help
her to discipline her classes. Alison adored her, and, as the girls had
already foreseen, was copying her in everything, from her little tricks
of speech, to the way she did her hair. Most of the girls liked Miss
Quentin, though they did not very much respect the way she coaxed them
to behave when they became a little unruly. They really preferred the
downright methods of Miss Roberts or Miss Jenks. Mirabel, of course,
soon found that Miss Quentin was quite unable to keep her in order.
' Your turn now, Mirabel dear,' Miss Quentin would say, smiling brightly
at her. Mirabel would pretend not to hear, and Miss Quentin would raise
her voice slightly. ' Mirabel! Your turn now, dear!' The class disliked
Miss Quentin's ' dears' and ' lambs' and other names-except Alison. She
loved them. They all looked at Mirabel impatiently. She was always
losing time like this, when they wanted to get on. Mirabel would pretend
to come back to earth with a start, fumble for the place, be gently
helped by Miss Quentin, and at last say something, usually incorrect.
When there was any acting to be done she came in at the wrong moment,
said the wrong lines, and altogether behaved in a most annoying manner.
Miss Quentin was at a loss to know how to deal with her. ' Mirabel! I
have never yet sent a girl out of my class,' she would say, in such a
sorrowful voice that it quite wrung Alison's heart. ' Now come-pull
yourself together and try again.' One morning Alison was waiting to act
a part she loved. She had rehearsed it over and over again to herself,
acting it, as she thought, to perfection. She was longing for her turn
to come, so that she might gloat over the sugared words of praise she
felt sure would drop from Miss Quentin's lips. There were ten more
minutes to go-just about time for Alison's turn to come. And then