"Blyton, Enid - St Clare's 06 - Fifth Formers at St Clare's" - читать интересную книгу автора (Blyton Enid)

' Perhaps that's why she did this,' said Alison, dryly. ' It's the kind of thing our dear Claudine would do, for the same kind of reason, isn't it, Claudine ? '
' Shall I tell Antoinette you will not need her again because you are very angry at her foolishness ?' said Claudine. ' Ah, she will be so sad, the poor child !'
Angela debated. She felt sure that Antoinette had made a real mistake. She was certain the girl liked her too much to play such a trick on her. How thrilled Antoinette had seemed when she had smiled at her! No —the girl had made a genuine mistake. Angela would give her another chance.
' I'll try her again,' she said. ' I'll forgive her this time. We all make mistakes sometimes.'
' How true!' said Claudine. ' Now, my sister Marie, hardly ever does she make a mistake, but once . . .'
' Oh, get out,' said Angela, rudely. ' It's bad enough to have you and Antoinette here without having to hear about your dozens of sisters!'
Claudine removed herself gracefully and went to find Antoinette to report the success of her trick. Antoinette grinned. ' C'est bien,' she said. ' Very good! Another time I will again be foolish, oh so foolish!'
Angela sent for her again the next day. Antoinette entered with drooping head and downcast eyes.
' Oh, Angela,' she said, in a low, meek voice, 'my sister Claudine has told me what a terrible mistake I made yesterday. How could I have been so foolish ? I pray you to forgive me.'
'All right,' said Angela. 'Don't look so miserable. Antoinette. By the way, I think I'll call you Toni-it's so much friendlier than Antoinette, isn't it ? '
Antoinette appeared to greet this idea with rapture. Angela beamed. How easy it was to get round these young ones ! Well-she would get all the work she could out of this silly French girl, she would wind her round her little finger-and then she would send her packing and teach her a good sharp lesson !
' What would you have me do today ? ' Antoinette asked, in her meek voice. ' More shoes ?'
' No,' said Angela. ' No more shoes. Make me some anchovy toast, Toni.'
' Please ?' said Antoinette, not understanding. ' Oh, dear-don't you know what anchovy toast is ? ' sighed Angela. ' Well, you make ordinary buttered toast -and for goodness' sake toast the bread before you put the butter on-then you spread it with anchovy paste. You'll find it in the cupboard. Make enough for three people. Anne-Marie is coming to tea, to read us her new
poem.'
' Ah, the wonderful Anne-Marie!' said Antoinette, getting out the bread. ' Now one of my sisters, the one called Louise, once she wrote a poem and ...'
' Toni, I've got to go and see some one,' said Angela, getting up hurriedly. ' Get on with the toast, and do it really carefully, to make up for your silly mistake
yesterday.'
' Angela, believe me, your little Toni will give you such toast as never you have had before!' said Antoinette with fervour. She held a piece of bread to the fire.
Angela went out, determined not to come back till Antoinette had made the toast and was safely out of the way. Talk about a chatterbox! She seemed to have a never-ending flow of conversation about her family. She might start on her brothers next-if she had any!
As soon as Angela had gone out of the room, Antoinette put aside her artless ways and concentrated on her job.
She made six pieces of toast very rapidly and spread them with butter. Then she got a pot down from the cupboard shelf—but it was not anchovy. It was the pot of brown shoe polish that she should have used the day before!
It looked exactly like anchovy as she spread it on the toast. Carefully the little monkey spread the brown paste, piled the slices on a plate and set them beside the fire to keep warm. Then she slipped out of the room and made her way to the noisy common room of her own form.
Soon Alison came in and sat down by the fire. Then Angela popped her head round the door and saw to her relief that Antoinette was gone.
' I simply couldn't stay in the room with that awful chatterbox, drivelling on about her sisters,' said Angela. ' Ah, she's made a nice lot of toast, hasn't she ? Hallo— here's Anne-Marie.'
Anne-Marie came in, her big eyes dark in her pale face. 'You look tired,' said Angela. 'Been burning the midnight oil? I wish I could write poems like you, Anne-Marie.'
' I worked on a poem till past twelve,' said Anne-Marie, in her intense voice. ' It's a good thing no one saw the light in my study. Ah—tea's ready, how lovely ! Let's tuck in, and then I'll read my latest poem.'


8 THREE DISGUSTED GIRLS

ANGELA lifted the toast on to the table. ' I got Antoinette to make anchovy toast for us,' she said. ' It looks good, doesn't it ? Take a slice, Anne-Marie.' Anne-Marie took the top slice. It seemed to have
rather a peculiar smell. Anne-Marie looked rather doubtfully at it..
' It's all right,' said Alison, seeing her look. Anchovy always smells a bit funny, I think.'
She and Anne-Marie took a good bite out of their toast at the same second. The shoe-cream tasted abominable. Anne-Marie spat her mouthful out at once, all over the table. Alison, with better manners, spat hers into her handkerchief. Angela took a bite before she realized what the others were doing.
Then she too spat out at once, and clutched her mouth with her hands. ' Oh ! Oh ! What is it ? I'm poisoned!'
She rushed to the nearest bathroom and the others followed, their tongues hanging out. Anne-Marie was promptly sick when she reached the bathroom. Tears poured from her eyes and she had to sit down.
' Angela ! What filthy paste ! How could you buy such stuff?' she said.
' Horrible !' said Alison, rinsing her mouth out over and over again. ' All that toast wasted too. It's wicked. Angela, whatever possessed you to get paste like that ? I've never tasted anchovy like that before, and I hope I never shall again. Ugh!'
Angela was feeling ill and very angry. What in the world had that idiot Antoinette done ? They went back to the study and Angela opened the door of the little cupboard. She took down the pot of anchovy. It was untouched. So Antoinette couldn't have used it. Then what had she used ? There was only jam besides the paste.
Alison picked up the pot of brown shoe-cream and opened that. It was practically empty. 'Look,' said Alison, angrily. ' She used the shoe-cream-plastered all the toast with it! She deserves a good spanking.'
Angela was white with anger. She put her head out
of the door and saw a first former passing. ' Hey, Molly,' she called,' go and find Antoinette and tell her to come here at once.'
'Yes, Angela,' said Molly, and went off. Very soon Antoinette appeared, her dark eyes wide with alarm, and her lips trembling as if with emotion.
' Antoinette! How dare you put shoe-cream on our toast ?' almost screamed Angela. ' You might have poisoned us all. Can't you tell the difference between anchovy paste and shoe-polish, you absolute idiot ? You've made us all ill. Matron will probably hear about it. You ought to be reported to Miss Jenks, you ought
to ...'
' Ah, ah, do not scold your little Toni so,' said Antoinette. ' You have been so kind to me, Angela, you have smiled, you have called me Toni ! Do not scold me so ! I will give up my tea-time, I will make you more toast, and this time I will spread it with the anchovy, there shall be no mistake this time.'
' If you think I'm ever going to trust you to do a single thing for me again, you're mistaken,' said Angela, still tasting the awful taste of shoe-cream in her mouth. ' I might have known a French girl would play the fool like this. I tell you, you've made us all ill. Anne-Marie was
sick,"
' I am desolated,' wailed Antoinette. ' Ah, Angela, I pray,you to let me come again tomorrow. Tomorrow I will be good, so good. Tomorrow you will call me Toni and smile at me again, tomorrow . . '