9 On The Lacrosse Field
Miss Grayling sent for Miss Peters and told her that Zerelda was to come into her form.
“That will be hard for her,” said Miss Peters. “Not the work, I mean—though I don’t think Zerelda will find even third form work easy—but the disgrace.”
“Sometimes hard things are good for us,” said Miss Grayling, and Miss Peters nodded. After all, the girls didn’t come to Malory Towers only to learn lessons in class—they came to learn other things too—to be just and fair, generous, brave, kind. Perhaps those things were even more important than the lessons!
“I don’t know if you think it would be a good thing to say something to the third-formers before Zerelda appears in their classroom,” said Miss Grayling. “You have one or two there—Gwendoline, for instance—who might not be very kind. A word or two beforehand might be as well.”
“Yes. Just as well,” said Miss Peters. “Well, I don’t expect an easy time with Zerelda, Miss Grayling. She’s got such queer ideas about things—spends all her time on her appearance, you know—I’ve not much use for that kind of girl.”
“No,” said Miss Grayling, thinking that probably it would be good for Zerelda to have the hearty¹ Miss Peters over her for a little while. “Well—there’s plenty of good in the girl—she seems very good-humoured, and I like her smile. Just say a few words to your form, but don’t make a big thing of it.”
So, to the third form’s intense surprise, Miss Peters said the “few words” to them that afternoon in class.
“Oh, by the way,” she said, “we are to have an addition to our form. Zerelda Brass² is coming to us.”
Gwendoline drew in her breath sharply, and looked round with a triumphant³ expression. She was delighted to think that the American girl would now be approachable—actually in her form, and in her common-room! Gwendoline could dance attendance on her all she pleased. She would be her friend.
Miss Peters read Gwendoline’s face wrongly. “Gwendoline! I hope you will not delight in another girl’s inability to follow the work of a higher form. I think . . .”
“Oh, Miss Peters!” said Gwendoline, a most hurt expression on her face, “as if I would do anything of the sort. I like Zerelda. I’m glad she’ll be in our form. I shall welcome her.”

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