Boarding schools -- England -- Juvenile fiction; Girls -- England -- Juvenile fiction
"Dona, are you awake? Donakins! I say, old sport, do stir yourself and
blink an eye! What a dormouse you are! D'you want shaking? Rouse up, you
old bluebottle, can't you?"
"I've been awake since five o'clock, and it's no use thumping me in the
back," grunted an injured voice from the next bed. "It's too early yet
to get up, and I wish you'd leave me alone."
The huskiness and general chokiness of the tone were unmistakable.
Marjorie leaned over and took a keen survey of that portion of her
sister's face which was not buried in the pillow.
"Oh! the atmosphere's damp, is it?" she remarked. "Dona, you're
ostriching! For goodness' sake brace up, child, and turn off the
water-works! I thought you'd more pluck. If you're going to arrive at
Brackenfield with a red nose and your eyes all bunged up, I'll disown
you, or lose you on the way. Crystal clear, I will! I'll not let you
start in a new school nicknamed 'Niobe', so there! Have a caramel?"
Dona sat up in bed, and arrested her tears sufficiently to accept the
creature comfort offered her. As its consistency was decidedly of a
stick-jaw nature, the mingled sucking and sobbing which followed
produced a queer combination.
"You sound like a seal at the Zoo," Marjorie assured her airily. "Cheer
oh! I call it a stunt to be going to Brackenfield. I mean to have a
top-hole time there, and no mistake!"
"It's all very well for you!" sighed Dona dolefully. "You've been at a
boarding-school before, and I haven't; and you are not shy, and you
always get on with people. You know I'm a mum mouse, and I hate
strangers. I shall just endure till the holidays come. It's no use
telling me to brace up, for there's nothing to brace about."
In the bedroom where the two girls lay talking every preparation had
been made for a journey. Two new trunks, painted respectively with the
initials "M. D. A." and "D. E. A.", stood side by side with the lids
open, filled to the brim, except for sponge-bags and a few other items,
which must be put in at the last. Weeks of concentrated thought and
practical work on the part of Mother, two aunts, and a dressmaker had
preceded the packing of those boxes, for the requirements of
Brackenfield seemed numerous, and the list of essential garments
resembled a trousseau. There were school skirts and blouses, gymnasium
costumes, Sunday dresses, evening wear and party frocks, to say nothing
of underclothes, and such details as gloves, shoes, ties, ribbons, and
handkerchiefs, writing-cases, work-baskets, books, photos, and
knick-knacks. Two hand-bags, each containing necessaries for the first
night, stood by the trunks, and two umbrellas, with two hockey-sticks,
were already strapped up with mackintoshes and winter coats.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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