Free 03 The Princess of the Chalet School by Elinor Brent-Dyer Page A

agreed her sister. ‘I wonder how they got up there?’
    ‘Who can fathom the ways of snails?’ laughed Miss Maynard.
    Nobody tried to answer her, and Miss Bettany sent the girls all back to bed the next minute, so they heard no more. Matron went back to her room, feeling annoyed with herself for having made such a fuss about such a little thing, and peach once more settled down on the Chalet School.

Chapter 8
The Feud Continues
    No one was blamed for the snails’ curious choice of a promenade. Joey’s speech about the occurrence while they had been at the Maynard’s had completely thrown her sister off the scent, and though Matron had her suspicions, she could scarcely suggest that the girls were to blame for it. Moreover, Miss Bettany had snubbed her so severely over the stopping of the Sunday morning reading, that she felt that she had better lie low for a while. She had every intention of gaining much more authority than she had, before she was done; but it struck her that her present Head might prove to be more difficult to influence than her former one. As for the S.S.M., they were so delighted with themselves that the wonder was that they did not give themselves away wholesale.
    ‘It was a topping rag!’ announced Margia enthusiastically at their next meeting. ‘If we can only push a few more like that on to her, we shall soon get rid of her. What can we do next?’
    ‘Better wait a while,’ said Jo practically. ‘If things happen too often, she’ll get suspicious – not that that would be anything fresh for her!’ she added.

    ‘I’ve thought of a lovely plan!’ cried Elisaveta. ‘It won’t be at her, exactly. But Madame will set it down to her.’
    ‘I doubt it!’ remarked Jo feelingly. ‘She’s all there – my sister. It’ll have to be a jolly good thing to get her to blame her and not us for anything we do.’
    ‘She will this, though,’ retorted the Princess, who was sitting in a most un-princess-like attitude, with her feet on her desk. They were in their form-room at the time. ‘It’s just this. Let’s all begin to talk like Matron!’
    A grin of pure delight illuminated Joey’s features at the idea. She knew her sister’s ideas on the subject of voices. Miss Bettany herself had a low, musical voice, and if there was anything she disliked more than another in Matron, it was the loud, harsh tones in which she invariably spoke. If the entire middle school began to copy them, Jo foresaw trouble of all kinds coming to them. All the same, it was a really beautiful chance, so she contented herself by saying, ‘Well, I hope you’re prepared to write out that thing of Shakespeare’s about
    “Her voice was ever sweet, gentle, and low,
    An excellent thing in woman”
    umpteen times; for that’s what will happen to us!’
    “Lines would be worth it!’ declared Margia.
    ‘I also think so,’ said Frieda unexpectedly. ‘Matron’s voice is so loud; it makes my head ache.’
    ‘We must begin gradually,’ said Elisaveta, warming up as she went on to explain the details of her plan. ‘If we all start shouting at once, they will know it is on purpose.’
    Joey nodded thoughtfully. ‘That’s true. – You really are a brain, Elisaveta. We’d better begin – just two or three of us – by degrees. The others can join in later.’
    ‘I reckon it’s our turn to shine,’ said Evadne. ‘You three did the snails stunt, so some of the rest of us ought to get busy with this first.’
    ‘Righto,’ agreed Jo amiably. ‘But don’t forget what I told you about the lines.’
    ‘Oh, I reckon we can stand a few lines!’ replied the American carelessly.
    ‘Well, you and Suzanne and Ilonka and me,’ said Margia. ‘Then you others by degrees. I shall have to remember to shout.’
    As Margia had a particularly soft, pretty speaking voice, this had the merit of being absolutely correct. The other three all possessed shrill, high-pitched voices naturally, and it was only after strenuous