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Fiona Mc wrote: |
The other thing that annoyed me was the name she gave Mrs Linton. Joyce said she was named for her mother so why on earth did Carol Allen name Mrs Linton, Winifred. I could understand the logic behind Hilary but not the logic of giving Mrs Linton a completely different name. |
KB wrote: |
In the end, Carol admitted that she had simply missed that point in Lintons, and A&C, who edited Gillian, said the same. They also said that, obviously, Mrs Linton's name was Winifred Joyce. |
Caroline wrote: |
On the subject of this book, I quite like the idea of Gillian and many of the plot lines in it, but I'm rather afraid the execution leaves me a little cold. And it rather reads like a book of two halves rather than a coherant entity... |
Quote: |
‘HELLO, everyone! Had good holidays?'
'Splendid, thank you. And you?' 'Rather! My family greeted me with open arms, and I was quite the pet of the house. Pity it lasts such a short while!' And Miss Edwards, youngest member of the Chalet School Staff, sank into her chair at the far end of the big Staff table, and beamed round on everyone. 'Why this solemn conclave?' she continued. 'Is anything wrong?' Miss Wilson, science and geography mistress, shook her head. 'No; at least not so far as I am aware. But I came up only this morning, and haven't had much chance to discuss anything with anyone yet.' 'Well, we shall all know soon,' said her great chum, Miss Stewart, who, as she was wont to say plaintively, spent her life trying to drive some history home to the brains of the Chalet School girls. 'Here comes Hilda at last! Come in, my child. What an age you have been!' |
Quote: |
The door had opened to admit the senior mistress, Miss Annersley. She closed it behind her and came quietly to take her seat at the head of the table. The mistresses sitting round it looked at her, and then glanced at each other. Something was clearly wrong - and badly wrong, too, Miss Wilson to the contrary. Miss Annersley's pleasant, clean-cut face wore a look they had rarely seen there. This meeting had been convened for more serious purposes than the usual Staff arrangements at the beginning of term. |
Quote: |
Gillian shook her head in despair and presently resumed her promenade around the flowerbeds of Die Rosen with a troubled expression on her face. The late-summer sun was beaming down on the Sonnalpe from a cloudless sky and she was glad of the cooling breeze which played with her shady hat, gently lifting its large floppy brim now and then to reveal the waves of silky-black hair, blue eyes and rose-petal complexion underneath. Having at last collected sufficient blooms to make a decent-sized arrangement, she paused by the garden wall for a few moments to admire the splendid mountainous landscape that stretched far away to the horizon. Below lay the shimmering sapphire-blue water of the Tiernsee, the most beautiful lake in all Tyrol, bounded by magnificent limestone mountains with jagged peaks. Gillian’s countenance relaxed as she took in the enchanting scenery and, turning her head slightly to the right, she gazed down on a small verdant triangular valley nestling on the western shore. Briesau, where she resided for much of the year, was the home of the Chalet School. Tomorrow she would be returning to the valley once more for the start of the Autumn Term to take up her duties as Head Girl. Gillian regarded her new position of responsibility with a degree of natural apprehension, but being a dutiful young person she was quietly determined not to disappoint those in authority who had placed their trust in her ability to lead the school. Presently, with a glance at her watch and a little sigh, she turned her back on the view and made her way across the garden towards the entrance to the road. |
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