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The following day the women gathered for breakfast.

“Where is Miss Ryman?” asked Miss Buck, who did not appear to be the brightest of people.

Miss Nelson and Miss Seymour delicately sipped their coffee and avoided what was certainly an awkward question.

“Miss Ryman has chosen to go home. She realised that she did not meet our standards and decided to drop out,” came the cool voice of Miss Annersley.

“I hope you are enjoying your breakfasts,” added Miss Wilson.

“Actually I’m not,” snapped Miss Buck, who had not liked the tone in the headmistresses voices.

“Really?” said Miss Annersley, “What is the matter with it?”

“Coffee, instead of tea, and where is the bacon and eggs? I can’t believe you expect us to eat bread twists for breakfast. What’s for lunch? Is it going to be more mucked about foreign rubbish?”


Miss. Annersley appeared to ignore Miss Buck’s rude comment, although a sharp eyed individual would have noticed Rosalie nipping out of the room with her notebook.

“This afternoon the girls are going on a ramble. We thought you might like to join them, so you can see some of the surrounding countryside. I hope you packed some stout boots.”

“Of course,” said Miss Nelson, “they were on the list of suggested clothing. I do enjoy walking, and when I saw that I really did hope we would be able to explore.”

“Yes,” agreed Miss Seymour, “I am an Alpenist.”

“As am I!” replied Miss Nelson.

Miss Wilson and Miss Annersley looked at each other.

“What are you talking about?” snapped Miss Buck.

“Miss Dene sent a list of suggested clothing, which you might wish to bring, it was in with the invitation to the wedding.”

“Oh, I must have missed that. You should have made it more clear”

At that moment Rosalie slipped back into the room. She caught Miss Annersley’s eye, and quickly summed up the situation.

“Miss Buck. Would you like to follow me?” said Rosalie as she led the way out of the room.

That evening Miss Nelson decided to write to her friend Louise to let her know how everything was going.

“My Dear Louise,

Well! You can’t imagine what it’s like here! The air is marvellous, the scenery beautiful, and the girls and staff are delightful, and between you and me I hope I have a good chance of the job here. Even if there wasn’t the chance of meeting a handsome Doctor I would still want to take this job!

Today we were sent on a ‘ramble’. Now I bet that you are thinking, like I was, that this was just a different name for a ‘croc’. How wrong you are. When they say ‘ramble’ here they mean just that. We rambled up one of the mountains, and the view was amazing, the Alps stretching out as far as I could see.

We stopped at a Gausthause for “kaffee und kuchen”, the coffee was like nectar! Nothing like the sour brew we drink at home.

After that we continued out ‘ramble’ and I was joined by a delightful child called Mary-Lou. She has been walking with one of the other candidates, a Miss King, but Miss King had taken offence at this young ladies ‘hail fellow, well met’ manner, but I found it amusing. On the way down the mountain one of the pupils fell and twisted her ankle, luckily, as you know, I never travel without my first aid kit, and I was able to patch her up. I did hope this might lead to a meeting with a doctor, but not this time, although it does happen.

The formal interviews take place tomorrow, and I really feel that it is between me and one other candidate, a Miss Seymour. She seems pleasant enough, however, as we are competing for the same thing I cannot find myself really liking her!

Anyway, I must leave you now, but I will send you a postcard letting you know how things go tomorrow.

With love,



Miss Annersley smiled as Rosalie expertly re-sealed the letter, “Whose letter is next?” she asked.

“Miss Seymour’s,” replied Rosalie, handing it over.

Miss Annersley thanked her, and unfolded the letter.

“Dear Emma,

Well, this is an interesting place. Wonderful scenery, lovely staff and delightful pupils. If I was seriously looking for a job, rather than a Doctor I would adore to work here!

Yesterday we went for a ‘ramble’…”

Miss Annersley put down the letter, “I really think it will be difficult to choose between Miss Seymour and Miss Nelson. Both are perfect Chalet teachers, and real Doctors wives material.”

“I know,” replied Rosalie, “It is going to be difficult. However, here is one I think we can safely say will not be making the final interview. I have booked her ticket home for tomorrow, and Rosalie handed over Miss King’s letter home.

“Dear Nev,

Good God! You would not believe what it is like here! Completely mad! The food! Bread for every meal, coffee, no tea! And do they give you a Gin and Tonic at the end of the day? As if! Its yet more of the blasted coffee, this time made by the French teacher, who is apparently famed for it. Tastes like sewage in my opinion.

And the girls! We went on what they call a ‘ramble’ yesterday. Well it was chaos. No crocing, just girls wandering all over the place, no order. And the girls! One of them, called Mary-Jo or something similar, so bumptious. She bounced over to me and addressed me as an equal! I couldn’t believe it, so I spoke sharply to her, pointing out the need to show respect, and would you believe it, when I mentioned the incident to another member of staff she just laughed and said “Oh, it’s just Mary-Anne” or whatever her name was, as if this was completely acceptable.

If it wasn’t for the fact I want to meet a rich doctor I would be on the first plane out of here.  

Lots of love,


“Well,” said Miss Annersley handing the letter back to Rosalie, “She certainly won’t do.”


"Right," said Miss Annersley, "The formal interviews, first I think Miss Seymour, and then Miss Nelson. Do you agree Nell?"

"Indeed." said Miss Wilson

"When will you see Miss Adams?" asked Rosalie

"Who?" asked the Headmistresses in unison.

"Miss Adams," repeated Rosalie, "Good skin, well what you can see under her makeup, bigger than Nancy Wilmot, can't eat éclairs and wore that terrible dress to Biddy's wedding."

"Gosh," exclaimed Miss Annersley, "I forgot all about her."

"So did I," Miss Wilson said looking guilty.

"Where is she?"

"She definitely came on the ramble." muttered Miss Wilson, "But I don't remember her coming back"

Clinging to a precipice high up the mountain side Miss Adams felt her fingers finally give way. She uttered a high pitched scream as she fell, followed by boulders, snow. However, instead of hitting solid ground and dying a horrid death Miss Adams felt herself land into a pair of solid arms. She looked up into dark brown eyes, she smiled with relief. A doctor! But then her eyes moved over the rest of his hairy face, she looked at his hairy arms and feet and fainted. Instead of bagging a doctor Miss Adams had got herself a yeti.

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