A Genius at the Chalet School (6 page)

   Joey Maynard nodded. "That's her," she said with a charming disregard for the rules of grammar. "Well, the Mackenzies are coming home for a long holiday. They broke the journey at Madeira and are still there so far as I know, and this arrived for me during the hols. Well, what's the meaning of all the barney?"
   "We were discussing the Sale," said Betsy with dignity.
   Joey laughed. "So that's what you call discussion! It sounded to me a lot more like several free fights - all violent! Have you reached any conclusions?"
   "Yes; we're going to have an Old English Fair," the prefects replied in unison.
   "An Old English Fair? Who's the genius who thought that one up? You, Elinor? Go up top! I should say you'd certainly run the bell this time! I'd love to see it, but you'll have to do without my inspiriting presence this year, I'm afraid."
   "Why on earth?" Betsy cried in dismay.
   "Because, my lamb, we're expecting Number Nine to come along early in April. I'll be far too busy by then for even the School Sale. It's a pity, but there it is. I
told
Julie and Co. last year that they Sale ought to be moved to the end of the summer term in future. They should have passed on my words of wisdom to you and then you could have had me with you. You'll have to be satisfied with my blessing this time - oh, and anything I can do for you during the next few weeks. But you certainly won't see me at it. Now, that's enough about me. Who's going to do what with the stalls? It'll mean House stalls this year, you know."
   "Oh, do you think so?" Sybil asked from her perch on the table beside her aunt.
   "Positive sure! Oh, I suppose the Juniors must have the lucky dip as usual. That's become a tradition. But the rest of you should be at your own House Stall. Let's see. How many will that give you? Five, isn't it?"
   "Yes, I suppose so," Jean said. "But we haven't got that far yet. We ought to consult with the St. Mildred's people before we arrange it, too."
   "Yes; that's so," Joey assented. "Well, have you thought out the entertainment?"
   "We'd only got as far as suggesting sets for the stalls," Katharine said.
   "We must have a Country Dance display, of course," Peggy said. "We can use the gym for that. And give eats in the dommy sci. rooms."
   "That's an idea. It will leave the Speisesaal for something else. And what about a Folk Play? Here's one for you!" She tossed a bundle of manuscript down the table. "I had a sudden inspiration one day during the hols and tossed that off as a result. When I reread it, it struck me that it might just do for the Sale. It shouldn't take more than forty minutes though you could lengthen it by introducing a few more songs and dances if you wanted to. You can include as many people as you like, too, for there are only ten main characters and the rest can be crowd. I should use mainly Morris in it if you're planning to give a Country Dance display."
   "That's a smash - er - gorgeous idea!" Carola cried as she looked up from the play which she had promptly grabbed. "I was wondering how we could introduce Morris."
   "And I'll tell you what," Hilary interposed. "What about making a skittle alley and running a skittles competition? I'm sure that's Old English enough. Doesn't Shakespeare mention it in one of his plays?"
   "I couldn't tell you offhand, but it would certainly fit in," Joey agreed. "And if it's fine, what about having tilting at the ring?"
   "Tilting at the ring?" Again it was a chorus.
   "Yes, you could do it with bicycles, seeing we don't have horses much in these parts. Oh, I know you people don't bring bicycles with you, but at least a dozen of us residents have them and you could borrow - if you guarantee to make good any damage that might be done to them," she added prudently.
   "But how do you do it?" Amy asked.
   "Hang rings the size of embroidery hoops by strings from boughs of trees and people try to pass wants through them as they ride past."
   "It sounds rather fun," Carola said. "We'd need four or five people to run it, though. Still, I expect St. Mildred's will rally round.
All
of them won't be needed on their stall. And some of us could help out, too."
   "If you do it, I'll promise a dozen little prizes for it," Joey said, "and I expect we can scratch up some more amongst us. Hilary Graves would help out; and Phoebe Peters would, too. I'll do some writing round among the folk I know in these parts and get what I can so you can count that one worry off your chests, anyhow."
   "And if it's not fine, we could use the gym after the country dancing," Lalla Winterton added.
   "It might be fine and the garden still unfit for us," Blossom said suddenly. "If it's a sea of mud as it was last year, no one's going to let us ride bikes all over the lawn. Still, I suppose, as you say, we could use the gym. We could fix up the rings with sticks lashed to the ribstalls."
   "So long as they are dangling, I don't see that it matters," Joey said. "How will you manage for dresses, by the way?"
   "Not too badly. There's a complete set of Cavalier dresses we could use for the Squire and the doctor and people like that. The rest can either wear smocks and their gym knickers under, or blouses with fichus and long, full skirts and aprons. That would do, wouldn't it?"
   "Caps for the girls, of course. And if you
can
manage it, buckled shoes for everyone. Tie up the girls' sleeves with flying ribbons - and you could introduce some Puritans with close-fitting caps and collars to make a little variety."
   "And
that's
and idea!" Carola ejaculated.
   Ailsa looked up. "We've got a musical genius this term. Did you know, Mrs. Maynard? She's Nina Rutherford. I heard her practising in Hall last night and I was simply stunned! I felt as if
my
efforts were just a schoolkid's strumming beside
that
."
   "Of course I know about Nina Rutherford," Joey said calmly. "And don't be disheartened because she can play like that, Ailsa. Your own music is good. But Nina, unfortunately for herself, has
genius
.
   "
Unfortunately
", Aunt Joey?" Sybil asked. "Why's that? I should say she was jolly lucky to have such a wonderful gift."
   "In one way, so she is. But you always have to pay heavily for a valuable thing and the geniuses of this world pay very heavily for their gifts." Joey thought a moment before she went on. "I wonder if you'll understand me, girls? It's like a lever, propelling you along one straight path and it won't let you side-track - or not for long, at any rate. Sooner or later, you have to come back to it and no one and nothing can ever really come between it and you. That's why so many geniuses make unhappy marriages. They're so absorbed in their art and it means so much to them, that they have very little time for anything else. You see, it's an obsession and obsessed people are never quite - well -
sane
. I don't mean they're mad and need shutting up; but I do mean that they're lopsided. And the ordinary happiness of life can never be theirs. Now do you understand?"
   "I think so," Betsy said hesitatingly. "I never thought of it before, of course. But I can see that being like - well - like Nina, for instance, may mean that you find it hard to live like other people."
   "Exactly!" Joey said impressively. "And as we're on the subject, I'd like to warn you people that if Nina says and does things that strike you as utterly selfish, she won't understand how they look to you. You'll have to try and make allowances for her."
   "But Jacynth Hardy is a genius and she wasn't like that - or not altogether," Sybil protested.
   "Jacynth is very highly gifted, but from what I can gather, Nina is even more so. And all her previous training has helped to deepen her idea that her art must come first and foremost and I doubt if there can be very much done about it now."
   The girls were silent. It was something quite new in their experience and they would have to live with it before they could come to much understanding of it. As Joey knew, some of them might never reach that point. She decided that she had said enough for the moment and turned to something else.
   "I think, on the whole, I'd better provide something for
every
stall. Make up your minds who does which and I'll send my contributions along as soon as possible. And now I must go. By the way, Sybs, give this to Nina. I want her to come to me for the afternoon to-morrow. Tell her I've seen Miss Annersley and it's all right."
   "Can't
I
come too>" Sybil asked as she tucked the note into her blazer pocket.
   "No, my love, you may not. I want Nina all to myself. You can come over any time you can get leave and well you know it!" Joey threw her shawl over her shoulders, stood up and draped it. "What are you people planning to do this afternoon?"
   "Go ski-ing if it keeps fine," Katharine said.
   Joey glanced out of the window. "In that case, my pets, you're going to be disappointed. There are some very suspicious clouds drifting around the sky. It wouldn't surprise me if we had a young blizzard shortly. That sky means mischief or my name's not Joey Maynard! I'm going while the going's good! Farewell!"
   She waved to them from the doorway and vanished, leaving them all clustered round the window whither they had rushed on hearing her remarks.
   "Well," Betsy said as she returned to her seat, "I'm awfully afraid she's right and ski-ing will be definitely
off
! In that case, Freda and Sybil, you'd better go and ask the Head if we can have a session of the Hobbies Club this afternoon. I suppose we must sort this out and then we can go and see Miss Annersley about it. Hello! Is that the bell? Then it can wait a while. I want my elevenses after all this hard labour. Come on, everyone! We'll come back after and finish up. There'll be no ski-ing. Here come the first snowflakes!"
   And the prefects, taking a last look before they descended to the Speisesaal in quest of cocoa or hot milk and biscuits, were forced to agree that Mrs. Maynard had prophesied truly. There would be no expedition that day.

CHAPTER 7

As it turned out, Nina was unable to accept Joey's invitation for Sunday. What that experienced young woman had described as "a small blizzard", turned out to be a full-grown one which continued the major part of Saturday, all Sunday and all Monday. No one was going to hear of allowing anyone, least of all a schoolgirl, going out in such a storm, not even when it meant just crossing the two gardens. Miss Annersley rang up Mrs. Maynard early on Sunday to tell her so and the would-be hostess fully agreed with her.
   "Oh, you're right, of course, Hilda. Tell the kid it's not cancelled - only postponed," she said. "This isn't likely to last more than a day or two and she can come next Sunday instead. Tell her I'll be looking forward to it."
   "I'll tell her," the Head agreed. "But I shouldn't care to prophesy about the snow just now. Have you forgotten that this is January? It's mid-winter and
anything
might happen!"
   "Don't be so pessimistic," was all she got in return. "It wouldn't
dream
of going on after to-morrow. It's not that kind of blizzard. Besides, I want to have Jo Scott and Mary-Lou and Jessica Wayne and one or two other people before I'll have to give up parties for a few weeks. You give Nina my message."
   "I will. Are you all right, Joey?"
   "Flourishing like the green baytree - or no; I don't think that's a very
nice
simile, seeing I don't think I'm what old King David meant by 'the wicked'. But we're all very well. I'm having a treat to myself. Jack was at home last night and as he can't possibly get to the San through this, I'll have him to myself all day for once and the other men can run the San on their own. It doesn't happen very often, so I'm making the most of it. Give my love all round, I'm ringing off now."
   "One moment, Joey. You'll like to know that we all think the Old English Fair is a stroke of genius. And your idea of tilting at the ring has intrigued everyone hugely."
   "Thought it would!" quoth Joey. "I
must
go! It's breakfast time."
   "At ten to ten? You're very late!"
   "Well, rather! This was a chance for Jack to have a good long sleep after a series of either broken or late nights, so I left him to have his sleep out. Anna gave me some coffee when I showed up so that I wasn't fasting. He roused half-an-hour ago and now I hear Anna bringing things into the Speisesaal so I must go. See you sometime sooner or later!" And Joey rang off with great firmness.
   Miss Annersley laughed as she turned away from the telephone. "It's a blessing Anna's there to keep an eye on Jo and her doings! Send Nina to me, will you, Rosalie, and I'll explain to her what's happening."
   Miss Dene laughed. "Did you know that Joey means to offer the loan of her piano for Nina to practise on when Hall is otherwise engaged? She told me when she ran in yesterday morning. It's as well the child doesn't know, isn't it? But Joey told me to leave it to her, so I said nothing."
   "That's like Joey," the Head said appreciatively. "Run along and fetch her, will you? I said we'd have our home services at half past ten and I want to explain to her before then."
   Miss Dene went off and Nina came to the study and listened to the explanation with a gravely polite air.
   "I see. Thank you, Miss Annersley. If you are ringing up Mrs. Maynard, will you please tell her I shall be looking forward to next Sunday?"
   Miss Annersley agreed and dismissed her, thinking to herself that while politeness was a desirable thing in girls, she preferred something a little less grown-up in teen-agers. Then she turned to sort out her books and forgot the matter for the time being.
   On Tuesday, the school woke up to find that the storm was over though, even so, there could be no going out for them at present. The newly-fallen snow was too soft and they must wait until either the men had beaten out some paths or the frost firmed it enough for skis. There were deep drifts all round and no one wanted the bother and anxiety of having to dig down into them for buried girls!
   Nina, practising happily while the rest of Va attended an algebra lesson with Miss Wilmot, thought that, on the whole, things might have been very much worse. She had already enjoyed a session on
Henry V
with Miss Derwent and another on the effects of the great ocean currents on the climates of various parts of the world with Miss Moore. Now she had an hour at the piano, since algebra for Va was followed by dictée this morning and from that, she was excused. She settled down to a Bach three-part Invention with much enjoyment and worked with a will. Her first lesson with Herr von Eberhardt had been delightful. She had liked him when she had had lessons from him in America and he was rejoiced to have under his teaching again the girl he had felt sure was to make history in the world of music.
   Actual trouble first began after Abendessen, as the school called supper. The members of St. Clare, to which House she had been assigned, were in their commonroom. The Juniors and Junior Middles had a playroom next door. Everyone else used the commonroom in free times and that evening, they were all there, reading, knitting, doing embroidery or making jigsaw puzzles. A bunch of the Middles had annexed the big table to one side of the room and were playing a noisy game of rummy. Nina had sat down with the library book Vi Lucy had seen she got on the Saturday, but Nina's fingers were itching for the touch of the cold ivory keys. Everyone else was fully occupied, even Vi sharing a jigsaw with Mary-Lou and Hilary. She looked round, saw that nobody was bothering about her and slipped quietly out of the room and made for Hall.
   The place was in darkness, but already she knew where the switches were. She switched on the double lights over the dais, opened the piano and sat down. A minute later, she was lost to the world as she wrestled with the Bach again. She had not been there more than five minutes, however, when the door opened and Miss Dene came in.
   "So it
is
you, Nina?" she said as she mounted on to the dais. "I thought so! My dear girl, I'm very sorry, but whether you know it or not, you're breaking all sorts of rules by practising now. You've had your four hours to-day, haven't you?"
   "Yes; but there are two passages I simply couldn't get right and I did want to finish them to-day if I could. Oh, Miss Dene, please let me go on! Just for half-an-hour! I promise to give up after that!"
   Even as she spoke, her fingers were back on the keys again, touching them lovingly, as Rosalie could see, though she shook her head at the request. "I'm afraid I mustn't, Nina. Rules say that no girl may do any work after the end of prep - and that includes practise, I'm sorry to say. You must stop now."
   "But I'm not interfering with anyone and no one will miss me," Nina urged.
   "That isn't the point, my lamb. You girls have a full timetable and are expected to work hard at the proper time. But a certain amount of recreation you
must
have, so the end of prep is the end of all work. Believe me, you'll do much better work to-morrow if you take a story book or join in some game or other. Besides," she added, laughing, "if we gave way to you, we should have to give way to someone who wanted to do science, or art or history or gym. It can't be done. Staff need rest as much as you girls. Come along! Put your music away and close up the piano and run along back to the commonroom."
   Nina's face fell, but she remembered her promise to Miss Annersley on that first morning, so she did as she was told without any more fuss and went back to the commonroom where Mary-Lou and Vi called to her to come and help them with their jigsaw. She went and found that this pursuit, which was new to her, was an absorbing one, so that she was well occupied for the rest of the evening.
   Once she had gone, however, Miss Dene locked the piano and removed the key which she took to Miss Lawrence, the head of the resident music staff.
   "You'd better see to that piano being locked every night," she warned that lady. "Judging by what Joey had to say on Saturday morning, if you're a genius, ordinary rules mean less than nothing to you if they happen to run counter to your art."
   "Oh, she's quite right there," Miss Lawrence agreed. "All right; I'll see to the piano. And it may be as well to keep the others locked, too. If she really yearns to practise, she'll find somewhere if it's humanly possible."
   "So Joey says. All right, I'll leave it to you, Dorothy, and
don't
, I implore you, go and lose any of the keys."
   "What do you take me for?" Miss Lawrence said scornfully. "That
would
be a lovely excuse to some of those lazy monkeys to get out of practice!"
   It was left at that, but Nina did not discover what was happening for a day or two.
   On Wednesday, they found that the frost had struck during the night. The snow was hard as iron and Miss Annersley decreed that after Prayers they were all to wrap up and go out for a ski-run until eleven o'clock. It was winter and the opportunity must be taken of open-air exercise. During the long snowstorms they had to be penned up so closely, and the doctors from the big Sanatorium, first when both were at the Tiernsee in Tirol; then with the one opened in the Welsh Hills; now with the new one at the farther end of the Gornetz Platz. Many of the girls were delicate or came from families with a bad medical history and health was set first and foremost all the time.
   "Must we wear our coloured glasses?" Betsy asked when the Head had made her announcement.
   Miss Annersley shook her head as she glanced out of a nearby window at the grey sky. "No, there's no need," she said. "The radio prophesies a further fall of snow later on and I very much doubt if the sun struggles through that ceiling of cloud at all to-day." She paused. Then she added, "Wrap up well, all of you. It's bitterly cold outside."
   "Have you ever ski-ed before?" Hilary Bennet asked Nina as they pulled on their ski-ing suits with the close-fitting hoods that protected their ears and then pulled on warm, woolly mitts.
   "Oh, yes, often," Nina replied - it was English day and the English girls were taking every advantage of that fact. "I've always enjoyed it - I think it comes the nearest thing to flying. I'm so glad we do it here."
   "We toboggan, too," Vi put in as she picked up her skis. "Only we haven't done much of that since Mary-Lou's accident last term." She shuddered. "That was a ghastly time. She was concussed, you know, and she didn't come to for days and no one could say whether she'd be all right or not."
   "Is that why her hair's so short?" Nina asked with interest.
   "Yes; Uncle Jack - Dr. Maynard, you know - had it all shaved off. She used to have the loveliest long pigtails - she called them her 'Kenwigses'. Then she went in for one tail. I've heard that when she found she was minus hair of any kind, she blew up good and hearty. Luckily, her hair has always grown quickly, and she doesn't look too bad now. And it's growing in curly, so she's resigned."
   "Aren't you folk ready yet?" demanded Mary-Lou herself. "Come on then!"
   Nina followed them out of the splashery, along the narrow passage and out into the corridor. Gaudenz, one of the men who worked at the school, had dug out early that morning. Then she strapped on a pair of well-worn skis. When she stood up and moved out of the way, it was clear that she was no novice. Her motion as she skimmed over the frozen snow was delightfully easy.
   "Good for you!" Hilary remarked as she joined her. "Come on - this way. We meet the crowd in the front drive and then we'll be told which way we're to go."
   In the front drive, the sixteen people who made up Va gathered together and were joined by Miss o'Ryan who was an expert on skis, thanks to many years spent in Tirol in her childhood. She told them to follow her and when they were in the road, directed them to turn to the left. "We'll try to get as far as St. Anton," she added. "Let me see. Nina, you can obviously use skis, so we haven't any novices here. We ought to do it easily and be back by eleven for Break. Lead on, Mary-Lou and Hilary. And don't go too far ahead please."
   The pair set off and the rest of the form followed, flying over the snow, looking not unlike a flock of brightly coloured birds in their gentian-blue suits with the crimson trimmings. It was bitterly cold as the Head had said, but the strenuous exercise soon warmed them up and by the time they had reached St. Anton, a tiny village of chalets with a small white-washed church with the usual bulbous spire, at the far end of the place, even Nina's usually pale cheeks were pink. They skimmed round the church and then set off for home. Their chatter and laughter carried on the crisp air and Nina laughed and talked with the rest. If Sir Guy could have seen her just then, he would have been thankful. He had worried considerably about the miserable appearance of his young cousin.
   "It's just as well you ski so well," Vi said as she and Nina raced along, side by side. "Do you skate, or don't you dare in case of accidents? I suppose one has to be careful about wrists and fingers. It would be rather bad if
you
broke anything, wouldn't it? I mean, how could you practise?"
   "I can skate all right," Nina said. "My father taught me when I was just a little thing of six or so. But you're quite right, Vi. I should be frightfully worried if I had any sort of an accident like that."
   "Oh, well, if you've done it practically all your life, I don't suppose you need worry about it," Vi said soothingly.
   "Can't we hurry?" Nina asked. Vi's remarks had reminded her that time was flying and she did not want to miss any of her practice.
   "Not to get ahead of the leaders," Vi replied. "That's never allowed."
   Nina sighed. She felt in her bones that at least half her practice time was going to be cut this morning and she didn't like it. However, Mary-Lou and Hilary made good time and they swept round the house to their own door just as the clock was chiming eleven. But even then, as Nina found, there was no just discarding her suit and flying to her beloved piano. She had to go and get her milk and biscuits with the rest and it was quite a quarter past eleven before she was able to sit down and begin work on the Schumann sonata in G minor that Herr von Eberhardt had given her at her lesson on the Saturday morning.
   She wasted no time. She set to work at once and Miss Lawrence, happening to pass the upper door of Hall as she crossed over to the study, was attracted by the sounds and opened the door quietly. She was amazed at what she heard. Nina was working with a concentration that the mistress wished her own pupils would use. She let nothing slip. The music mistress noted how she played one stiff passage over and over, first the right hand, then the left, then both together until she had it as she felt it should be. Further, she was listening intently to what she was doing. She stopped and tried two or three different fingerings of one run before she was satisfied that she had the right one.