Free Upper Fourth at Malory Towers by Enid Blyton Page A

Gwendoline, and felt all over herself for her small sketchbook, which was always somewhere about her person.
    “Yes—it's a peach of a scowl,” she said, “a smasher! Hold it, Gwen, hold it! I must add it to my collection!”

    Clarissa, Ruth and Connie looked surprised. “A collection of scowls !” said Connie. “I never heard of that before! “
    “Yes, I've got a nice little bookful of all Gwendoline's different scowls,” said Belinda. “The one that goes like this”—and she pulled a dreadful face—”and this one—and this one you must have seen hundreds of times!” She pulled a variety of faces, and everyone roared. Belinda could be very funny when she lied.
    “Oh quick—Gwen is scowling again!” she said, and flipped open her little book. “You know, one term I stalked Gwen the whole time, waiting for her scowls, but she got wise to me the next term, and I hardly collected a single one. I'll show you my collection when I get back if you like, Clarissa.”
    “Er—well—I don't know if Gwen would like it,” she began.
    “Of course she wouldn't,” said Belinda. Her quick pencil moved over the paper. She tore off the page and gave it to Clarissa,
    “There you are—there's your darling Gwendoline Mary,” she said. Clarissa gasped. Yes—it was Gwen to the life—and looking most unpleasant, too! Wicked Belinda—her malicious pencil could catch anyone's expression and pin it down on paper immediately.
    Clarissa didn't know what in the world to do with the paper—tear it up and offend Belinda—or keep it and offend Gwendoline. Fortunately the wind solved the problem for her by suddenly whipping it out of her fingers and tossing it over the hedge. She was very relieved.
    It was a lovely picnic. There were sandwiches of all kinds, buns, biscuits and slices of fruitcake. The girls ate every single thing and then lazed in the sun. Darrell reluctantly decided at three o'clock that if they were going to have tea at the top of Langley Hill, and bathe afterwards, they had better go now.
    “Oh, Darrell—Clarissa and I have been given permission by Miss Williams to go and have tea with Clarissa's old nurse, Mrs. Lucy, who lives at the foot of the hill,” said Gwendoline, in the polite voice she used when she knew she was saying something that the other person was going to object to.
    “Well! This is the first I've heard of it!” said Darrell. “Why ever couldn't you say so before? I suppose it's true ? You're not saying this just to get out of climbing Langley Hill and bathing afterwards? “
    “Of course not,” said Gwendoline, with enormous dignity. “Ask Clarissa!”
    Clarissa, feeling rather nervous of Darrell, produced the invitation from Mrs. Lucy. “All right,” said Darrell, tossing it back. “ How like you, Gwen, to get out of a climb and a bathe! Jolly clever, aren't you!”
    Gwendoline did not deign to reply, but looked at Clarissa as if to say “What a head-girl! Disbelieving us like that!”
    The girls left Gwen and Clarissa and went to climb the great hill. The two left behind sprawled on the grass contentedly. “I'm just as pleased not to climb that hill, anyway,” said Gwen. “This hot afternoon, tool I wish them joy of it!”
    They sat a little longer, then Gwen decided that she was being bitten by something. She always decided this when she wanted to make a move indoors! So they set off to find Mrs. Lucy's cottage, and arrived about a quarter-past four.
    The old lady was waiting. She ran out to greet Clarissa, and petted her as if she was a small child. Then she saw Gwendoline, and appeared to be most astonished that there were no other girls besides.
    “But I've got tea for twenty!” she said. “I thought the whole class was coming. Miss Clarissa dear! Oh my, what shall we do? Can you go after the others and fetch them?”

An exciting plan
    “You go after them, Gwen,” said Clarissa, urgently. “I daren't tear up that steep hill. They'll be halfway up by