CHAPTER XVIII
Mademoiselle
"Parlez-vous francais, Mademoiselle? She opened the window, and out she fell. And what happened next I've never heard tell, Parlez-vous francais, Mademoiselle?"
chanted Raymonde, dancing into the dormitory and plumping down onFauvette's bed amid a pile of chiffons, muslins, and other flimsyarticles of wearing apparel. "Why, what's the matter, child? Whencethis spread-out? You look weepy! Packing to go home? Mother ill? Orare you expelled?"
"Neither," gulped Fauvette with a watery smile. "It's onlyher--Mademoiselle! She's turned all my drawers out on to the floor,and says I've got to tidy them. She lectured me hard in French. Icouldn't understand half of what she said, but I knew she wasscolding. And I've to sort all these things out, and put them neatlyaway, and mend up everything that needs mending before this evening,or else she'll tell the Bumble to come and look at them, and I shallget 'sadly lacking in order' down in my report again. It's too bad!"
"It's positively brutal of Mademoiselle!" said Raymonde reflectively."If it had been Gibbie, now, it would have been no surprise to me.Don't cry, you little silly! You look like a weeping cherub on amonument! Shovel your clothes back again into your drawers, and put atidy top layer. That's what I always do!"
"So do I," wailed Fauvette. "But it won't work this time. Mademoisellewas really cross, and I could see she means to come to-night, and holdwhat she calls 'une inspection'. She said something about making me anexample. Why, if she wants an example, need she choose me?"
"It's certainly breaking a butterfly," agreed Raymonde. "I'm afraidthere's something seriously wrong with Mademoiselle. She's completelyaltered this last week. She never used to worry about things, andshe's suddenly turned as fussy as Gibbie."
Raymonde was not the only one who had noticed the change in the Frenchmistress. It was apparent to everybody. Her entire character seemedsuddenly to have altered. Whereas beforetime she had been easygoing,slack, and ready to shut eyes and ears to school-girl failings, shewas now keenly vigilant and highly exacting. In classes and at musiclessons she demanded the utmost attention, and no longer passed overmistakes, or allowed a bad accent. She prohibited the use of theEnglish tongue altogether during meals, and insisted upon her pupilsconversing in French, requiring each one to come to table primed witha suitable remark in that language. The number of fines which sheinflicted was so heavy that the missionary box filled with a rapiditymore gratifying to the local secretary of the society than to thecontributors. The girls were considerably puzzled at this change offace on the part of Mademoiselle, but Morvyth and Katherine gave it astheir opinion that Miss Beasley lay at the back of it.
"The Bumble's probably had a talk with her, and told her she must buckup or go!" suggested the former. "I'm sure she always thoughtMademoiselle a slacker--which she certainly was! Possibly she's givenher till the end of the term to show what she's capable of, and if shedoesn't come up to the mark, we shall start next term with a newFrench governess."
"I shouldn't care!" said Raymonde easily. "I never liked her much. Weused to call her 'the butterfly', but she's 'the mosquito' now. She'sdeveloping a very unpleasant sting."
Whatever might be the truth of Morvyth's surmises as to the reason ofMademoiselle's new attitude, the fact loomed large. Having determinedto demonstrate her powers of discipline, she overdid it. She was oneof those persons who cannot keep order and enforce rules withoutlosing their tempers, and she stormed at the girls continually. Shedeveloped a mania for what she called "surveillance." She wascontinually paying surprise visits to dormitory or schoolroom, andpouncing upon offenders who were talking, or otherwise neglectingtheir duties. It was even suspected that she listened behind doors.Fauvette, whose babyish characteristics led her into many pitfalls,seemed suddenly to become the scapegoat of Mademoiselle's freshlyacquired vigilance. Fauvette lacked spirit, and went down like aninepin before the least word of reproof. Her feelings were easilyhurt, and her tears always close to the surface. She sat now andsobbed pathetically upon her pillow, without making the least effortto tidy up her belongings. Raymonde shook her head over her.
"You're the sort of girl who ought to go through life with a nurse ora maid to look after you; you're not fit to take care of yourself,"she decided. "Look here, how much wants doing to your clothes beforethe Mosquito comes buzzing round to inspect?"
"Shoals!" sighed Fauvette wearily. "I'm afraid I've left my mending.There are stockings, and gloves, and--all kinds of things."
"Can you get it done in time?"
"Impossible!" and the tears dripped again on to a dainty muslincollar.
"Then there's nothing for it but to get up a Mending Bee, and helpyou! We seven are sworn to stick together."
"There'll be squalls if you're caught in the dormitory duringrecreation. I was told to stay here," cautioned Fauvette.
"We've got to risk something," returned Raymonde cheerily, scurryingoff in search of the remaining five of the Mystics.
"You've all got to fetch work-baskets and come this instant," shecommanded. "It's an urgency call, like last term when we made Tbandages for Roumania, and nose-bags for the horses, only it's evenmore important and urgent."
Armed with their sewing materials, the girls slipped one by oneupstairs, and, settling themselves upon the beds in the immediatevicinity of Fauvette's, set to work. It was a formidable task. Theircomrade had brought a large assortment of garments to school withher, and had happily left them unmended, trusting to take them home tobe repaired. At present they were mixed in a hopeless jumble on thefloor and on her bed, just where Mademoiselle had tipped out thedrawers. Stockings, underclothes, gloves, handkerchiefs, photos, oldletters, ribbons, ties, beads, lockets, books, and an assortment ofodd treasures were lying together in utter confusion.
Fauvette brightened at the sight of her friends, mopped her eyes, andpushed back her fluffy hair from her hot forehead.
"Brace up!" Raymonde encouraged her. "We're not going to help unlessyou'll do your own share. Sort those things out, and be putting themin your drawers while we do your mending. Morvyth, take thesestockings; Katherine, you're artistic, so I'll give you baby ribbon tothread through these bodices. Ardiune, you may mend gloves. Ave,collect those hair ribbons, and put them neatly inside that box, andstack those photos together. Why they're not in an album I can'timagine!"
"Because I generally sleep with one or two of them under my pillow,"confessed Fauvette. "Why shouldn't I, if I like? There's no harm init. Oh! please be careful with those beads, you'll break thestrings!"
"I can't think why you need so many empty chocolate boxes," commentedAveline, sweeping up treasures with a ruthless hand. "Your drawerswill be so full they won't shut. Throw half of them away!"
"No, no! I always keep them to remind me of the people who gave themto me. You mustn't throw any of them away. They're chock-full ofmemories."
"Rather have them chock-full of chocs, myself!" remarked Morvythdryly. "Fauvette, you're interesting and pretty--when you don't cry(for goodness' sake look at your red eyes in the glass!); but you'reas sentimental as an Early Victorian heroine. You ought to wear abonnet and a crinoline, and carry a little fringed parasol, and talkabout your 'papa'! If you don't get safely engaged to an officerbefore you're out of your teens, you'll turn into one of those fadedfemales who bore one with sickly reminiscences of their past, andspend the remainder of your life pampering a pet poodle. Here, I'vemended two pairs of stockings for you."
"And I've done three pairs," said Raymonde, folding up the articles inquestion and putting them in her friend's second long drawer. "We'regetting on. Kathy, have you finished the bodices? We'll soon have youstraightened up, Baby, and if Mademoiselle----Oh!"
Raymonde's sudden ejaculation was caused by a vision of no less aperson than Miss Gibbs, who was standing in the doorway of thedormitory regarding the sewing party in some astonishment.
"What are you girls doing here?" she demanded, making a bee-line for
them among the beds.
Nobody answered, and for a moment or two blank dismay spread itselfover the countenances of the Mystics. Then Raymonde's lucky star cameto the rescue, and popped an inspiration into her head.
"You were telling us in Social History class yesterday, Miss Gibbs,about the necessity of women co-operating in their work if they areever to command a higher scale of pay," she explained glibly; "so wethought we'd better begin to put our principles into practice.Fauvette had fallen into arrears, and was in danger of--er--trouble,so we all came just to boost her up to standard, and let herget a fair start again. It's on the basis of a Women's Unionor--or--Freemasons. We thought we were bound to help one another."
Miss Gibbs was not a remarkably humorous person, but on this occasionthe corners of her mouth were distinctly observed to twitch. Shemastered the weakness instantly, however, and remarked:
"I'm glad to hear that you are interested in co-operation. This iscertainly a practical demonstration of the theory, and Fauvette oughtto be grateful to you. Be quick and finish straightening the things,and, if anybody asks questions, you may say that you have mypermission to remain here until tea-time."
The girls sat at attention till the door closed upon their mistress,then their mingled amazement and gratitude burst forth.
"Good old Gibbie!"
"She's an absolute sport to-day!"
"Never known her in such a jinky mood before!"
"The fact of the matter is," observed Raymonde sagely, "I believeGibbie absolutely loathes Mademoiselle, and that for once in a wayshe's not above taking a legitimate chance of paying her out."
When the French mistress came round that evening on her tour ofinspection, she found Fauvette's drawers in apple-pie order right tothe very bottoms--beads, ties, and collars carefully arranged inboxes, and nicely mended stockings placed in a row.
"It only show vat you can do ven you try!" she commented. "In a womanto be untidy is--ah! I have not your English idiom?"
"The limit!" wickedly suggested Raymonde, who was standing close by.
But Mademoiselle, who had been warned against the acquisition ofslang, glared at her till she beat a hasty retreat.
It was growing near to the end of the term, and examinations loomedimminently on the horizon. They were to be conducted this year by MissBeasley's brother, a clergyman, and a former lecturer at Oxford. Hehad made a special study of modern languages, so that his standard ofrequirement in regard to French grammar was likely to be a high one.Up till now the Fifth Form had plodded through Dejardin's exercises inan easy fashion, without worrying greatly about the multitude of theirmistakes, over which their mistress had indeed shaken her head, buthad made no special crusade to amend. Now, in view of theawe-inspiring visit of the Reverend T. W. Beasley, M.A., Mademoisellehad instituted an eleventh-hour spurt of diligence, and kept herpupils with reluctant noses pressed hard to the grindstone. Irregularverbs and exceptions of gender seemed much worse when taken in suchlarge doses. The girls began to wish either that the Tower of Babelhad never been attempted, or that the world had reached a sufficientstage of civilization to adopt a universal language. Over one point inparticular they considered that they had a just and pressinggrievance. The French classes of Form V came on the time-table from 12to 12.30, being the last subjects of morning school. Dinner was at oneo'clock, and in the intervening half-hour the girls put away theirbooks, washed their hands and tidied their hair, and refreshed theirflagging spirits by a run round the garden. Mademoiselle had been wontto close her book at the exact minute of the half-hour, but now sheutterly ignored the clock, and would go on with the lesson till aquarter or even ten minutes to one. The wrath of the Form knew nobounds. They valued their short exercise before dinner extremely. Tohave it thus cut off was an infringement of their rights.Mademoiselle, who was perfectly aware that she was exceeding the limitof the time-table, sheltered herself behind excuses.
"Ven I take your verbs I forget it is so late," she would remark. "Zelesson slip avay, and ve not yet done all ve should."
The girls held an indignation meeting to discuss the subject. EvenMaudie Heywood's appetite for knowledge was glutted by this extra dietof French syntax, and Muriel Fuller and Magsie Mawson, amiablenonentities who rarely ruffled the surface of the school waters, foronce verified the proverb that the worm will turn.
"It's not fair!" raged Ardiune.
"Ma'm'selle knows she ought to stop at half-past!" urged Magsie ininjured tones.
"It's taking a mean advantage!" echoed Muriel.
"And we can't really work properly when she goes on so long!" wailedMaudie.
"I vote we strike!" suggested Morvyth fiercely. "Let's tell her wewon't go in for the exam. at all, if she goes on lengthening out thelessons."
Several of the Form brightened up at the suggestion, but Aveline, ashade more practical, shook her head discouragingly.
"If we do, there'll be a fine old row! The Mosquito'll appeal to theBumble, who'd have her back up directly. I think we'd better not trythat on. We don't want to take home 'conduct disgraceful' in ourreports."
"Ave's right," agreed Raymonde. "We know the Bumble! This is a matterfor tact, not brute force. We must manage Mademoiselle. She pretendsshe forgets the time--very well, then, we must take steps to bring itpalpably to her notice. Will you leave the matter in my hands? I'vegot an idea."
Raymonde's inspirations were so well known in the Form, that the restwillingly consented to appoint her as a sub-committee of one toundertake the full management of the affair. Before the next Frenchclass she made a tour of the monitresses' bedrooms. They hadinstituted an early-rising society among themselves this term, andalmost everyone was provided with an alarum-clock. Raymonde boldlyborrowed five of these, without asking leave of their owners, and setthem all carefully for 12.30, winding them up to their fullest extent.She then placed them inside the book cupboard in the class-room, andcovered them with some sheets of exercise paper.
The lesson proceeded even more painfully than usual. Ardiune gothopelessly mixed between indefinite pronouns and indefinitepronominal adjectives, and Fauvette floundered over the negations,while Muriel found the proper placing of the _p_'s and _l_'s in theconjugation of _appeler_ an impossible problem. As 12.30 drew near,there was much glancing at wrist-watches. Mademoiselle kept her eyespersistently turned away from the clock, with the evident intention ofonce more ignoring the time. This morning, however, Fate, in theperson of Raymonde, had been against her. Exactly at the half-hourfive alarums started punctually inside the cupboard, raising such adin that it was impossible to hear a word. Mademoiselle flew toinvestigate, took them out, shook them, and laid them on their backs,but they were wound up to their fullest extent, and nothing short of ahammer would have stopped them. The noise was terrific.
The baffled French governess, clapping her hands over her ears, raisedher eyebrows in a signal of dismissal, and the girls availedthemselves of the permission with record speed. The alarums burredcheerily on for about twenty minutes, after which, by Mademoiselle'sinstructions, they were replaced in the monitresses' bedrooms byHermie. The Fifth were prepared for trouble, but to their surprise nonotice was taken of the incident at head-quarters. PossiblyMademoiselle was aware that her late efforts at discipline wereregarded by Miss Beasley with as little favour as her formerslackness, and considered it useless to appeal to her Principal. Shetook the hint, however, and in future terminated the lesson punctuallyat the half-hour, so on this occasion the girls considered that theyhad most decidedly scored.