by Enid Blyton
Miss Potts noticed that there was an empty chair. 'Who's missing?' she said.
'Sally Hope,' said Darrell. 'I last saw her in one of the practice rooms- about an hour ago.'
'Well, go and fetch her,' said Miss Potts, impatiently.
'Oh, she left when I was there,' said Darrell. i don't know where she went to.'
'We'll get on without her then,' said Miss Potts. 'She must have heard the supper-bell.'
The girls chattered about the day they had had. Only Darrell was silent. Was Sally somewhere, very upset ? What could be the matter with her ? Why was she so queer about things? Was she unhappy about something ?
Mary-Lou sniffed loudly. 'Where's your hanky ?' asked Miss Potts. 'Haven't you got one ? Oh, Mary-Lou, you know you must always have one. Go and get one at once. 1 can't bear that sniff of yours.'
Mary-Lou slipped out of the room, and ran up to the dormy. She didn't come back for a little while and Miss Potts became impatient.
'Really ! It seems to take Mary-Lou all evening to find a hanky !'
There came the sound of running steps and the door of the dining-room was flung open. Mary-Lou came in, looking even more scared than usual.
'Miss Potts ! Oh, Miss Potts ! I've found Sally. She's lying on her bed in the dormy, and she's making an awful noise !'
'What sort of noise ?' said Miss Potts, hurriedly getting
up.
' A groaning sort of noise and she keeps holding herself and saying, "Oh, my tummy !"' said poor Mary-Lou, bursting into tears. 'Oh, Miss Potts, do go to her. She wouldn't even speak to me !'
'Girls, get on with your supper,' said Miss Potts, briskly, it sounds as if Sally has eaten too many strawberries and too much ice-cream. Katherine, go and tell Matron, please, and ask her to go up to your dormy.'
She swept out of the room. The girls began talking at once, asking scared Mary-Lou all kinds of questions. Only Darrell still sat silent, a cold fear creeping round her heart.
She had flung Sally across the room, and Sally had fallen over that chair! She must have hurt herself in the stomach then. Darrell remembered how she had said, it hurts.' It wasn't too many strawberries and too much ice-cream. It was Darrell's temper that had caused the trouble!
Darrell couldn't eat any more supper. She slipped off to the common room to be by herself. Surely Sally wasn't much hurt? Just bruised, perhaps. Surely Miss Potts would come in soon and say cheerfully, 'Well, well! Nothing much wrong with Sally after all!'
'Oh, I hope she does, I hope she does,' said poor Darrell, and waited impatiently and anxiously for the sound of Miss Pott's quick footsteps.
16 A BAD TIME FOR DARRELL
THE girls poured into the common room after their supper. They had half an hour before bedtime. They were tired after their exciting day, and some of them were sleepy already.
Alicia looked at Darrell in surprise. 'Why so gloomy?' she said.
'Well—1 was just wondering about Sally,' said Darrell. 'Hoping she wasn't very ill.'
'Why ever should she be?' said Alicia. "Lots of people can't eat strawberries without getting a pain or a rash. One of my brothers is like that.'
Alicia plunged into one of her bits of family history and Darrell listened gratefully. Alicia did not relate stories that glorified herself, as Gwendoline always did—she simply poured out amusing tales of the life she and her brothers led in the holidays at home—and, if Alicia was to be believed, the pranks they got up to were enough to turn any mother's hair completely grey! However, Alicia's mother had not seemed to Darrell to have any grey hairs at all, when she had seen her that day.
The bed-time bell went for the first-and second-formers. They put away their things at once. Matron did not show much patience with laggards at bed-time. There were too many girls to hustle into bed for that!
Miss Potts had not come back. Darrell felt her anxiety creeping over her again. Perhaps Matron would know. She would ask her about Sally as soon as she saw her hovering around the bathrooms.
But Matron wasn't there. Mam'zelle was there instead, beaming placidly at everyone, still in a good temper because of the lovely day they had all had.
'Hallo, Mam'zelle! Where's Matron?' asked Alicia in surprise.
'Looking after Sally Hope,' said Mam'zelle. 'Ah, the poor child—she is in great pain.'
Darrell's heart sank, is she—is she in the San. then?' she asked. Girls who were ill were always put in the San., which consisted of a good many nice rooms above the Head Mistress's own suite of rooms. There was also a special matron for the San itself, a smiling, but strict hospital nurse, who was extremely efficient not only at dealing with any kind of school accident or illness, but also at dealing with any kind of girl!
'Yes. Of course she is in the San. She is very ill,' said Mam'zelle. Then, with her love of exaggerating, she added a sentence or two that sent Darrell's heart down into her boots. 'It is her poor tommy—no, tummy is what you say, n 'est ce pas. She has a big pain there.'
'Oh,' said Darrell. 'Do they—do they know what has caused the pain, Mam'zelle? Has Sally hurt herself?'
Mam'zelle didn't know. 'All I know is that it is not the strawberries and the ice-cream,' she said. 'Because Sally did not have any. She has told Matron that.'
That made it all the more certain, then, that it must have been Darrell's rough push and the fall that followed! Poor Darrell! She felt so miserable that Mam'zelle's sharp eyes noticed her downcast face and she began to wonder if here was another girl about to be ill!
"You feel all right, my little Darrell?' she said, in a sympathetic voice.
'Oh, yes, thank you,' said Darrell, startled, i'm just— well, just tired, I suppose.
Darrell hardly slept at all that night. She was so horrified at what had happened. How could she have lost her temper so thoroughly, how could she have yelled at Sally like that and how could she have sent her flying across the room? She, Darrell, was wicked! It was true that Sally was queer and annoying, but that was no excuse for Darrell's behaviour.
Now Sally was ill and in pain. Had she said anything about Darrell losing her temper? Darrell felt herself growing cold as she thought of what Miss Grayling might do if she heard.
'She would hear about my slapping Gwendoline too, and she would send for me and tell me I was a failure already,' thought Darrell. 'Oh, Sally, Sally, do get better by tomorrow! Then I'll tell you I'm terribly sorry, and I'll try to make it up to you all I can.'
She fell asleep at last, and was very tired when the dressing-bell rang for them all to get up. Her first thought was Sally. She saw the girl's empty bed and shivered. How she hoped Sally would be back there that night!
She ran downstairs before any one else. She saw Miss Potts and went to her. 'Please,' she said, 'how is Sally?'
Miss Potts thought what a kind child Darrell was. 'She's not at all well, I'm afraid,' she said. 'The doctor is still doubtful about what exactly is the matter. But she really seems rather ill, poor child. It was so sudden, too—she seemed all right yesterday.'
Darrell turned away, miserable. Yes, Sally had been all right till she had fallen across that chair. She knew what was the matter—but nobody else did! It was plain that Sally hadn't told anyone of the quarrel.
It was Sunday. Darrell prayed hard for Sally all the time she was in church. She felt very guilty and ashamed. She also felt very much afraid. She felt that she ought to tell Miss Potts or Matron about the quarrel and how she had flung poor Sally across the room—but she was too frightened to tell!
Too frightened! Darrell was so fearless in the usual way that it was something strange and queer to her to feel afraid. But she was afraid. Supposing Sally was very very ill! Supposing—just supposing she didn't get better! Supposing Darrell's temper caused all that!
She couldn't, couldn't tell anyone, because they would think her so wicked, and she would disgrace her mother and father. People would say "That's the girl whose temper caused her to be expelled from Malory Towers! You know she made another gi
rl terribly ill!"
It would be awful to be sent away from Malory Towers in disgrace. She would never get over it. But she was sure Miss Grayling wouldn't keep her another day if she knew
that she had caused Sally's illness and pain.
'I can't tell anyone, I can't !' thought poor Darrell. i'm afraid of letting people know, because of what would happen to me, and how it would make Mother and Daddy feel. I'm a coward, but I daren't tell. I never knew 1 was a coward before!'
She suddenly thought of Mary-Lou, whom she had so often called a coward. Poor Mary-Lou—now she knew how she felt when she was afraid of something. It was a horrible feeling. You couldn't get away from it. How could she have sneered at Mary-Lou and taunted her? It was bad enough to feel afraid of something without being taunted about it.
Darrell felt very sad and very humble. She had started the term in such high hopes and spirits. She was going to be top! She was going to shine in everything and make her parents proud of her! She was going to find a fine girl for a friend. And she hadn't done any of those things.
She had got a low place in the form. She hadn't found herself a friend. She had been hateful to little Mary-Lou who had so shyly and eagerly offered her friendship—and now she had done something wicked and didn't dare to say anything about it!
Darrell was certainly down in the dumps that day and nobody could rouse her out of them. Miss Potts wondered if she was sickening for something and kept a sharp eye on her. Mary-Lou was worried, and hovered round hoping to be able to do something. And for once Darrell was kind to her and did not snap at her to send her away. She felt grateful for Mary-Lou's liking and sympathy.
Two doctors came to see Sally that day! The news went round North Tower House. 'She's fearfully ill! But it's nothing infectious so we're not in quarantine. Poor Sally. Tessie says she had to go and see the Head this morning and she heard Sally groaning in the San. rooms above!'
How Darrell wished her mother was there that day! But she couldn't remember where her parents had gone to, though they had told her. She had forgotten in the excitement of yesterday. She sat down in a rocky corner by the sea, and thought things out.
She couldn't be a coward any longer, because it would be worse to stay at Malory Towers and know she was a coward than it would be to leave, knowing she had been brave enough to own up. But whom should she tell?
i'd better write and tell Sally's mother," she thought. "She's the one that's nearest to Sally. I'll write and tell her all about the quarrel, and how it happened and everything. I'll have to tell her, too, how Sally says she hasn't got a sister. That's all very queer, but maybe Mrs. Hope will understand it. Then Mrs. Hope can do what she likes—tell the Head, I expect! Oh, dear! But I shall feel better when it's done.'
She left her seat by the sea and went back to North Tower. She got out her writing pad and began to write. It was not an easy letter to compose, but Darrell always found writing easy, and she poured out everything to Mrs. Hope— about the quarrel and what led up to it, and all about Sally not wanting to speak to Mrs. Rivers, and how unhappy she seemed to be. She was quite surprised to find how much she seemed to know about Sally!
She felt better immediately she had finished the letter. She didn't read it through, but stuck a stamp on the envelope and posted it at once. Mrs. Hope would get it the very next morning!
Then another rumour ran through North Tower. 'Sally's taken a turn for the worse! A specialist is coming to see her! Her people have been telegraphed for! They're coming tomorrow!'
Darrell could not eat anything at all that day. It was the longest day she had ever known. Mary-Lou, scared by Darrell's stricken face, kept close by her—and Darrell welcomed her and felt comforted. Mary-Lou had no idea why Darrell looked so miserable, and didn't dare to ask her. She forgot the many sneers and taunts that Darrell had thrown at her for her weakness and feebleness; she only wanted to help.
The other girls did not notice anything much. They went for walks, bathed, lay about in the sun, and had a happy, lazy Sunday. Miss Potts still kept an eye on Darrell. What could be the matter with her? Was it Sally's illness that was worrying her? No, it couldn't be. She hadn't been at all friendly with Sally. Nobody had, for that matter.
Bed-time came at last. Matron had no more news of Sally, except that she was no better. No one was allowed to see her, of course. Matron had been quite shocked because Darrrell had begged to go and see her for a moment or two!
Darrell lay in bed, thinking. The third- and fourth-formers came up to bed. The fifth-formers came and then the sixth. Then Matron, Mam'zelle and Miss Potts retired too, and Darrell heard lights clicking out. It was late. It was dark outside. Everyone was asleep except Darrell.
'I simply can't lie here thinking and thinking!' said Darrell to herself desperately, and she flung off her covers, i shall go mad ! I shall get up and go into the Court! The roses will smell sweet there, and I shall get cool and perhaps be able to go to sleep!'
She slipped on her dressing-gown and went quietly out of the room. Nobody stirred. She crept down the wide stairs and out into the Court. And then, in the stilless of the night, she heard the sound of a car purring up the hill to Malory Towers! It stopped outside. Whoever could it be, so late at night?
Darrell glanced up at the windows of the San. There
were bright lights there. Sally couldn't be asleep, or the lights would be dimmed. What was going on now? Oh, dear, if only she knew!
Darrell slipped through the archway that led from the Court to the drive. Yes, a car stood there, a dark shape, silent now and empty. Whoever had come in it had gone into Malory Towers. Darrell crept round to the door that led into the Head's building. Someone had left it open! She pushed it and went inside. Now she would find out what was happening!
17 A WONDERFUL SURPRISE
THERE was a little light burning in the hall. The Head Mistress's rooms were in darkness. She was evidently upstairs in the San. Darrell crept upstairs. There were bright lights everywhere, and a good deal of bustle. What was happening to poor Sally?
Darrell couldn't understand what was going on. Sally must be very ill to have so many people bothering about her like this in the middle of the night! Darrell's heart felt very heavy. She didn't dare to go any farther in case someone ' saw her. But she felt she must stay where she was. She j must get to know some thing! She couldn't possibly go back to bed without finding out what was happening. If only, only she could help!
She sat down on a window-seat, and drew the heavy curtains round her, straining her ears to catch a word from any of the people bustling about from one of the San. rooms to another. That was Matron's voice—the matron of North Tower! And that was the other Matron's voice, very crisp and sharp, giving an order. And that was a man's voice.
Darrell held her breath and listened to the mysterious voices and noises, but she couldn't hear a word.
Oh, what would they all say if they knew that she, hot-tempered, wicked little Darrell was at the bottom of all this fuss and worry and bother? Darrell pulled the curtain round her head and wept great tears that soaked into the heavy silk.
She sat there for about half an hour. Then, quite suddenly, and without meaning to , she fell fast asleep ! Lost in the heavy curtains, she slept, tired out.
She did not know how long she slept. She awoke again later, hearing noises. She sat up, wondering where in the wide world she was! Then she remembered. Of course—she was near the San. She had come to find out what was happening to Sally, j At once all the fear and anxiety closed round her once again. She felt lonely and lost, and wanted her mother. She ! clutched the curtains round her as she heard voices coming near. Was it doctors? Nurses? Perhaps the Head Mistress herself?
| And then Darrell's heart almost stopped beating! Some one was going by the window-seat where she sat, someone who spoke in a voice she knew and loved!
'She'll be all right,' said the voice. 'Just got her nicely in time! Now...'
i Darrell sat as if she was turned
to stone, listening to that well-known voice! It couldn't be! It couldn't be! It couldn't be her own father's voice!
She suddenly found herself able to move. She thrust the curtains aside and looked between them. She saw her father walking along with the Matron, talking earnestly. Yes, it was, it really was her father.
'DADDY!' squealed Darrell, forgetting absolutely everything except the fact that there was her father, whom
she thought was miles away, walking along the passage just near her. 'Daddy! Oh, Daddy! Stop, here's Darrell!'
Her father stopped as if he was shot! He couldn't believe his ears! Darrell leapt down from the window-seat and flung herself on him like a small thunderbolt. She clung to him and began to cry.
'What's the matter, darling?' said her father, amazed. 'Why are you here?'
Miss Grayling came up, astonished and rather disapprov¬ing. 'Darrell! What are you here for, child? Mr. Rivers, you had better come into my room downstairs, please.'
Carrying Darrell in his arms, her father followed Miss Grayling downstairs, with Matron clucking behind like an astonished hen. Darrell clung to her father as if she would never let him go. Was she dreaming? Could it be that this was really her own father, in the middle of the night? Darrell couldn't imagine how or why he was there, but it was enough that he was.
He sat down in a big armchair with Darrell on his knees. Matron disappeared. Only Miss Grayling was there, and she looked in a very puzzled manner at Darrell and her father. There was something here she didn't understand.
'You cry all you want to, then tell me what's the matter,' said Darrell's father. 'Why, we only saw you yesterday, and you were so happy! Never mind, I'm here, and I'll put everything right for you.'
'You can't!' wept Darrell. 'I've been wicked ! It was my temper again. Oh, Daddy, it's all my fault that Sally is so ill!'
'My dear child, what are you talking about?' said her father, puzzled. Darrell snuggled her head into his chest and began to feel much better. Daddy could always put things right. So could Mother. What a blessing he was here tonight.