02 Jo of the Chalet School by Elinor Brent-Dyer

singing-master! He’s an Englishman, and – Oh bother!
    There’s the bell for silence!’
    The others echoed her exclamation, but, as they had had a long lecture – much-needed – on the necessity of keeping the few rules of the school only that morning, they dared not speak after the silence-bell had gone; so they were obliged to possess their souls in patience. In the meantime, Mademoiselle and Miss Maynard couldn’t imagine what had happened to make them so stupid this morning. Even Jo usually a bright and shining light of the French Literature class, appeared to know nothing at all of the seventeenth century, and, when asked to name the author of Le Cid , replied dreamily, ‘The new man!’ adding to her sins by speaking in English.
    No wonder Mademoiselle was angry; and Joey, after listening to a sever lecture on the necessity of paying attention in class, found herself condemned to copy out certain pages of Duruy’s Petite Histoire de France .
    This brought her to her senses, and she managed to get through the remainder of morning without much trouble.
    When finally the bell rang and Mademoiselle had left the room, they all thronged round Margia demanding to know all details of the new singing-master. Margia was only too pleased to gratify them.
    ‘I don’t know much ,’ she said, ‘but he’s come to live at the villa Adalbert for the winter. His sister is with him, and he’s very good, and awfully keen. He wants to teach singing here because he likes to have something to do; so he came and asked Madame if he might.’
    ‘I wonder why he has come?’ said Simone thoughtfully. ‘He is ill, perhaps?’
    But Margia didn’t know, and was unable to satisfy her curiosity.
    ‘I wonder what kind of songs he teaches,’ said Joey.
    ‘Let’s hope it’s not those awful folk-songs you’re for ever shrieking!’ observed Margia with point.
    While they were dressing that morning, Joey had sung, ‘Some like coffee, some like tea!’ over and over again, till the others had all flung their pillow into her cubicle, and a pillow-fight had begun which had brought Miss Maynard down on them. What had made it worse was the fact that it was the one morning in the week when Juliet had early practice, and so they had been alone, and therefore on their honour, as Miss Bettany had pointed out in her subsequent interview with them.
    ‘I hope it isn’t beastly tuneless things like the rubbish you play!’ retaliated Joey.
    ‘Jo Bettany!’ said Gisela’s horrified voice. ‘You must pay a slang fine.’
    Jo grumbled under her breath; but after all, as the others assured her when Gisela had gone, she had simply asked for it. ‘Topping’ and ‘ripping’ and kindred expressions were banned to them, but most people were a little lenient about their use; but nobody showed any lenience over such words as ‘beastly’ and she knew it.
    The crusade against unpleasant slang was being carried on thoroughly, and already the girls were improving in that direction. As a rule, Joey was not so bad as Grizel and Evadne and one or two of the others, for her wide reading of the classics had helped her there. However, occasionally she fell as she had done to-day.
    Luckily for everyone, the bell rang for Mittagessen at this point, and they all had to stop talking until they were seated at the table. When the meal was over, and before she said grace, Miss Bettany informed the school of the new arrangements she had made for their singing-classes.
    ‘Mr Denny,’ she said, ‘is spending the winter here for his health. He is a signing-master in England, and loves his work, so he came to see if I would allow him to take you. I have agreed, and he is coming this afternoon to have the first classes. You will be divided into three divisions as you are for lessons, and I hope you will show Mr Denny that you can sing, and also behave well.’
    She fixed the middles with a stern eye as she spoke, and sundry people wriggled uncomfortably. Then