Free Upper Fourth at Malory Towers by Enid Blyton Page B

now.”
    “No, indeed, Miss Clarissa, I wouldn't dream of you racing up that hill, and you only just recovering from that bad heart of yours,” said Mrs. Lucy at once. “I meant this other girl to go.”
    Gwendoline was certainly not going to go chasing up Langley Hill in the hot sun, to fetch back people she disliked, to enjoy a fine tea. Let them go without!
    She pulled rather a long face. “I will go, of course,” she said, “but I think there's something a bit wrong with my heart, too—it flutters, you know, when I've done something rather energetic. It makes me feel I simply must lie down.”
    “Oh dear—that's how I used to feel!” cried Clarissa, sympathetically. “I forgot you spoke about your heart today, Gwen. Well, it can't be helped. We can't get the others back here to tea.”
    “What a pity,” mourned Mrs. Lucy, and took them inside her dear little cottage. Set on a table inside was a most marvellous homemade tea!
    There were tongue sandwiches with lettuce, hard-boiled eggs to eat with bread-and-butter, great chunks of new-made cream cheese, potted meat, ripe tomatoes grown in Mrs. Lucy's brother's greenhouse, gingerbread cake fresh from the oven, shortbread, a great fruit cake with almonds crowding the top, biscuits of all kinds and six jam sandwiches!
    “Gracious!” said Gwen and Clarissa, in awe. “What a spread!”
    “Nurse, it's too marvellous for words,” said Clarissa. “But oh dear, what a waste! And such an expense, too!”
    “Oh now, you needn't think about that,” said Mrs. Lucy at once. “Your sister came to see me yesterday, her that's married, and she gave me some money to spend on getting a good spread for you all. So here it is—and only the two of you to eat it. Well, certainly, Miss Clarissa, you did give me to understand in your letter that the whole class were coming.”
    “No, Nurse—I said the whole of our form from North Tower were coming for a picnic and could we (that's Gwen and I) come and have tea with you,” explained Clarissa. “I suppose you thought that “we” meant the whole lot. I'm so very sorry.”
    “Sit you down and eat,” said Mrs. Lucy. But even with such a wonderful spread the two girls could not eat very much after their very good lunch. Gwen looked at the masses of food in despair.
    And then Mrs. Lucy had a brainwave.
    “Don't you have midnight feasts or anything like that at your school?” she said to Clarissa. “I remember your sister, her that's married, used to tell of them when she went to boarding-school.”
    “A midnight feast!” said Gwen, remembering the one or two she had enjoyed at Malory Towers. “My word—that's a super idea, Mrs. Lucy! Could we really have the food for that?”
    “Of course you can. Then it will get to the hungry mouths it was made for,” said old Mrs. Lucy, her eyes twinkling at the two girls. “But how will you take it?”
    Clarissa and Gwen considered. There was far too much for them to carry by themselves. They would simply have to have help. Clarissa was very excited. A midnight feast!
    She had read of such things—and now she was going to join in one—and provide the food, tool
    “I know,” said Gwen, suddenly. “We have to meet Darrell and the others at half-past five, at the end of the lane down there—the one that leads up from the cove. We will bring some of the girls back here to help to carry the stuff!”
    “Good idea,” agreed Clarissa, her eyes shining behind their thick glasses. So, just before half-past five by Mrs. Lucy's clock, Gwen and Clarissa slipped along to the end of the lane to meet the others.
    But only two were there—and very cross the two were. They were Alicia and Belinda.
    “Well! Do you know it's a quarter to six, and we've jolly well been waiting for you two for twenty minutes!” began Alicia indignantly. “The others have gone on. We've had to wait behind. Haven't you got watches?”
    “No,” said Gwendoline. “I'm so sorry. I'm afraid Mrs. Lucy's