The Marvelous Magic of Miss Mabel Read Online Free Page A

tightly in her lap.
    â€œI can’t concentrate to stay down, Mama,” Mabel said, as they sped past fields and villages. “See how fast we’re going! So much faster than Mr. Miller’s donkeys!” She clapped her hands in delight, and wisps of purple smoke puffed out between her fingers. Mabel blinked in surprise, watching the smoke drift upward.
    When they arrived in Little Shamlington, a smart purple carriage was waiting to meet them. It had the Ruthersfield crest on the side, a cauldron and two crossed broomsticks. Once Nora and Mabel were settled inside, they trundled through narrow, hedge-lined roads, Mabel’s face pressed against the window. Potts Bottom was much smaller than Melton Bay,and crossing over a bridge, Mabel saw barges floating down the canal, pulled along by horses. She stared in fascination as they wove through twisty cobbled streets, past a bakery and a butcher’s shop with rabbits and chickens hanging upside down in the window. Best of all Mabel liked the wooden shoe sign swaying above the cobbler’s shop. The carriage slowed as they turned down Glover Lane, and the horses trotted between wide iron gates, coming to a stop in front of a large, gray, stone building.
    â€œThat’s the witch school?” Mabel said, looking at Nora for confirmation.
    â€œYes, this is Ruthersfield,” Nora murmured, checking that her hat was on straight. Holding tight to Mabel’s ribbon, they walked up the broad front stairs, arriving at a handsome pair of carved double doors. Nora pulled on the bell rope, and a low clanging sounded from inside.
    â€œPlease could you call me Anastasia?” Mabel whispered, in between deep breaths.
    A witch in a purple cloak opened the door. She wore a feather-and-bead-trimmed hat. Tight auburn ringlets framed her face. “Mrs. Ratcliff, I presume? And this must be?”
    â€œMabel,” Nora said quickly, and Mabel gave a hop as two black cats sauntered past her.
    â€œWelcome to Ruthersfield,” the witch said. “I hope your journey wasn’t too taxing.”
    â€œIt was most pleasant, thank you,” Nora replied.
    â€œI’m Miss Seymour. I teach some of the magic hands classes here at the academy.” Mabel wanted to know what magic hands classes were, but she was too shy to ask. “I know Miss Brewer is most eager to meet you, so if you’ll follow me, I shall take you along to her office.”
    Mabel stared about the hallway. There was a plush horsehair sofa covered in what she thought at first were piles of fluffy black cushions, but which on closer inspection turned out to be sleeping cats. She wiggled her toes in her tight kidskin boots, wanting to unbutton them and slide across the smooth, polished floor in her stockings.
    â€œReady?” Miss Seymour said, smiling at Mabel as if she could tell what Mabel was thinking. “We don’t want to keep Miss Brewer waiting.”
    They walked down a number of long corridors, and whenever they passed a classroom with the door open, Mabel peered inside, squinting so she could see properly. Lately, things far away had started to look a little blurry, as if there was a constant sea fog clouding her vision. Nanny Grimshaw hated it when Mabel squinted, saying if the wind changed, her face would stay that way.
    â€œThat’s our cookery lab,” Miss Seymour said. “The girls are making light-as-air cakes today, which calls for a cup of west wind. And west winds can be rather unruly if the girls don’t mix them in quickly enough. That’s why we keep the door open.” Just then a strong breeze knocked Mabel to the floor and went swirling off down the corridor. “They don’t like feeling trapped,” Miss Seymour explained, helping Mabel to her feet.
    Miss Seymour stopped in front of a green leather door. She knocked once, and a sharp voice called out, “Enter.” They were ushered into Miss Brewer’s office, which