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

felt a little scornful. But no one couid help feeling sorry for the
miserable girl. Mirabel had no idea what to do for the best. ' Well,'
she said, saying the first thing that came into her head, ' well, how
would you like to be me! Sent away from home by your mother and father
because they didn't want you, and said you upset your brother and sister
and made every one unhappy ! That's what I've got to put up with! I'm
not so lucky as you, I think!' Gladys raised her head, and for the first
time forgot her unhappiness in her scorn of Mirabel. ' You unlucky!
Don't be silly-you don't know how lucky you are! To have a father and a
mother, a brother and a sister, all to love and to love you. And I only
have my mother and even she is taken away from me! Mirabel, you deserve
to be sent away from home if you can't understand that families should
love one another! I can tell you, if I had all those people to love I
wouldn't behave so badly to them that they'd send me away. You ought to
be ashamed of yourself.' Coming from the silent Gladys, this was most
astonishing. Mirabel stared into the darkness, not knowing what to say.
Gladys got up and went to the door. ' I'm sorry,' she said, in a muffled
voice. * You're unhappy-and I'm unhappy-and I should be sorry for you,
and comfort you. But you made your own unhappiness-and I didn't make
mine. That's the difference between us.' The door banged and Mirabel was
alone. She sat still in surprise. Who would have thought that Gladys
could say all that? Mirabel thought back to her own home. She saw the
golden head of her little sister, the dark one of her brother, bent over
home-work. She saw the gentle, patient face of her mother, who always
gave in to every one. She remembered the good-humoured face of her
father, changed to a sad and angry countenance because of her own
continual insistence on her own way. 1 It was Mother's fault for giving
in to me/ she thought. ' And Harry and Joan should have stood up to me.
But it's difficult for younger ones to stand up for themselves -and
after all, I am difficult. I wish I was home now. I'm lonely here, and
I've behaved like an idiot. I know Mother would always love me-and yet
I've been beastly to her-and turned Daddy against me too. Harry and
rjoan will be glad I've gone. Nobody in the world wants frje or loves
me.' Self-pity brings tears more quickly to the eyes than anything else.
Mirabel put her head on the table and jjyept. She forgot Gladys and her
trouble. She only felt sorry for herself. She dried her eyes after a
while, and sat up. ' I shall stop behaving badly,' she thought. ' I
shall leave at half-term and go back home and try to do better. I'm
tired of being silly. I'll turn over a new leaf tomorrow, and perhaps
the girls will feel more friendly.' She got up and switched on the
light. Her watch showed five minutes to nine-almost bed-time. She sat
down at the piano and played to herself for a while, and then, when the
nine-o'clock bell sounded, made her way upstairs to bed, full of good
resolutions. She began to make pictures of how nice the girls would be
to her when they found she was turning over a new leaf. Perhaps the
twins would find she was somebody worth knowing after all. Poor Mirabel!
When she got into bed that night, she found that she could only get her
legs half-way down it! The girls had made a beautiful apple-pie bed,
and, not content with that, Elsie had put a spray of holly across the
bend of the sheet. Mirabel gave a shout of dismay as the holly pricked