"Blyton, Enid - St Clare's 04 - The Second Form At St Clare's (b)" - читать интересную книгу автора (Blyton Enid)domineering nature-and now, without it, she telt lost. She was depressed
and unhappy to-night-her mind longed for something to fasten on, something to love. She thought of her violin at home, and wished with all her heart that she had brought it with her. It was dark hi the music-room. Mirabel did not turn on the light, for she was afraid somebody passing might see her, and she did not want any company just then. She leaned her arms on a little table and thought. i,o inc. 3JJ"^U1>U fUKM AI bl IXAKE S Her hands touched something-a violin case. Something in the feel of it stirred her, and suddenly, with hands that trembled a little, she undid the strap and took out the violin inside. She put it lovingly under her chin, and groped for the bow. And then the little dark music-room was full of music, as Mirabel played to herself. She played to comfort herself, to forget herself, and the notes filled the little room, and made it beautiful. 'That's better,' said Mirabel at last. 'That's much better! I didn't know how much I'd missed my music. I wonder whereabouts the piano is. I'll play that too. Why didn't I think of this before? ' She groped her way to the piano, and began to finger the notes gently in the darkness. She played from memory, and chose melodies that were sad and yearning, to match her own mood. She thought she was alone, and she put her whole heart into her playing. Then suddenly she heard a sound in the room beside her, and she stopped at once, her heart thumping. She heard a stifled sob. ' Who's there? ' said Mirabel, in a low voice. There was no answer. Someone began softly to grope her way to the door. Mirabel felt a stir of anger. Who was it spying on her? Who had come into the room like that? She jumped up and and held on. ' Who is it?' she said. ' Me-Gladys,' said a voice. ' I was in here alone- when you came in. I didn't know you were going to play. But you played such beautiful music I had to stay-and then it got sad, and I cried.' ' You're always crying,' said Mirabel, impatiently. o What's the matter? ' ' I shan't tell you,' said Gladys. ' You'll only tell the others, and they'd laugh. They call me Misery-girl, I know. It's hateful. They'd be Misery-girls too if they were like me.' ' Like you-why, what's the matter with you? ' asked Mirabel, her curiosity aroused. ' Look here-tell me. I shan't jeer at you or anything.' 'Well, don't turn on the light then,' said Gladys. You'll think I'm very feeble, so I'd rather tell you in the dark.' ' You are a queer fish,' said Mirabel. ' Come on- what's the matter?' ' It's my mother,' said Gladys. ' She's awfully ill-in hospital-and I don't know if she'll get better. I simply can't tell you how much I love her, and how much I miss her. I haven't a father, or brothers or sisters- only my mother. I've never been away from her even for a night till now. I know it sounds silly to you- you'll call me babyish and mother's girl-and so I am, I suppose. But you see, Mother and I haven't had any one but each other-and I'm so terribly, terribly homesick, and want to be with Mother so much. . . .' Gladys burst into sobs again, and cried so miserably that Mirabel forgot her own troubles for the moment and put her arm awkwardly round the girl. She saw how little courage Gladys had got-she saw how little she tried to face what had come to her-and she |
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