7 Gwendoline Arrives
Gwendoline came back just before tea, by car. The news flew round. “Dear Gwendoline Mary’s back! Come and see the fond farewells!”
Gwen’s farewells were a standing¹ joke at Malory Towers. There were always tears and fond embracings, and injunctions to write soon, that went on for ages between her and her mother and her old governess, Miss Winter, who lived with them.
Faces lined the windows overlooking the drive. Gwendoline got out of the car. Her mother and Miss Winter got out, too. Her father, who was driving, made no move. He had got very tired of Gwendoline in the holidays.
“Out come the hankies!” said Alicia, and out came Gwen’s and her mother’s and Miss Winter’s. And dear me, out came the hankies of all the wicked watchers at the windows above!
“Now we pat our eyes!” went on Alicia, and sure enough the eye-patting went on down below—and above too, as everyone sniffed² and wiped their eyes.
Irene, of course, gave the show away with one of her explosions. The four below looked up in surprise and saw the watching girls, all with hankies to their eyes.
Mr. Lacy roared. He held on to the wheel and laughed loudly. “They’re putting up as good a show for you, Gwen, as you’re putting up for them!” he cried. The girls at the window disappeared as soon as they saw that they had been seen. They felt a little uncomfortable. Mrs. Lacy might complain of their bad manners now! It would be just like her.
“Mother, get back into the car,” said Gwendoline exasperated³. She hadn’t known she was being watched at all. She did so love these little farewell scenes—and now this one was spoilt! Her mother and Miss Winter were almost hustled⁴ back, without another tear or hug.
“I don’t like that behaviour, Gwendoline,” said Mrs. Lacy, offended at the conduct of the girls. “I’ve a good mind to write to Miss Grayling.”
“Oh no, Mother!” said Gwendoline, in alarm. She never liked being brought to Miss Grayling’s notice at all. Miss Grayling had said some very horrid⁵ things to her at times!
“It’s all right, Gwen. I shan’t let her,” said her father, dryly. “For goodness’ sake, say good-bye now, and go in. And mind—if I hear any nonsense about you this term you’ll have me to reckon with, not your mother. You were bad and foolish last term, and you suffered for it. You will suffer for it again, if I hear bad reports of you. On the other hand, no one will be more pleased than I shall to have a good report of you. And I’ve no doubt I shall.”

分享到：