Produced by Charles Aldarondo. HTML version by Al Haines.
The Unclassed
by
George Gissing
CONTENTS
I SCHOOL
II MOTHER AND CHILD
III ANTECEDENTS
IV CHRISTMAS IN TWO HOMES
V POSSIBILITIES
VI AN ADVERTISEMENT
VII BETWEEN OLD AND NEW
VIII ACADEMICAL
IX THE COUSINS
X THE WAY OUT
XI BY THE WAYSIDE
XII RENT DAY
XIII A MAN-TRAP
XIV NEAR AND FAR
XV UP THE RIVER
XVI EXAMPLE WITHOUT PRECEPT
XVII THE MISSING YEARS
XVIII THE ENDERBYS
XIX IN THE MEANTIME
XX A SUGGESTION
XXI DIPLOMACY
XXII UNDER-CURRENTS
XXIII THE OPPORTUNITY
XXIV JUSTICE
XXV ART AND MISERY
XXVI STRAYING
XXVII THE WILL TO LIVE
XXVIII SLIMY'S DAY
XXIX FREEDOM
XXX ELM COURT
XXXI NEW PROSPECTS
XXXII A VISION OF SIN
XXXIII A GARDEN-PARTY
XXXIV A LATE REVENGE
XXXV HOUSE-WARMING
XXXVI NO WAY BUT THIS
XXXVII FORBIDDEN
XXXVIII ORDERS OF RELEASE
CHAPTER I
SCHOOL
There was strange disorder in Miss Rutherford's schoolroom, wont to be
the abode of decorum. True, it was the gathering-time after the
dinner-hour, and Miss Rutherford herself was as yet out of sight; but
things seemed to be going forward of a somewhat more serious kind than
a game of romps among the children. There were screams and sobbings,
hysterical cries for help; some of the little girls were crowding round
an object in one corner of the room, others appeared to be getting as
far away from it as possible, hiding their pale faces in their hands,
or looking at one another with terrified eyes. At length one more
thoughtful than the rest sped away out of the room, and stood at the
bottom of the stairs, calling out her teacher's name as loud as she
could. A moment, and Miss Rutherford came hastening down, with alarmed
aspect, begging to be told what was the matter. But the summoner had
turned and fled at the first sight of the lady's garments. Miss
Rutherford darted into the schoolroom, and at once there was quietness,
save for half-choked sobs here and there, and a more ominous kind of
moaning from the crowded corner.
"Gracious goodness, children, what is it? Who's that lying on the
floor? Harriet Smales! What _ever_ has happened?"
The cluster of children had fallen aside, exposing a strange picture.
On the ground lay a girl of twelve, her face deadly pale, save in the
places where it was dabbled with fresh blood, which still streamed from
a gash on the right side of her forehead. Her eyes were half opened;
she was just recovering consciousness; a moan came from her at
intervals. She had for support the lap and arms of a little girl,
perhaps two years younger than herself. Heedless of the flowing blood,
this child was pressing her pale cheek against that of the wounded one,
whose name she kept murmuring in pitiful accents, mixed with endearing
epithets. So unconscious was she of all around, that the falling back
of the other children did not cause her to raise her eyes; neither was
she aware of Miss Rutherford's first exclamations, nor yet of the
question which was next addressed to her by the horrified
schoolmistress.
"How did it happen? Some of you run at once for a doctor--Dr. Williams
in Grove Road--Oh, quick!--Ida Starr, how _did_ it happen?"
Ida did not move, but seemed to tighten her embrace. The other pupils
all looked fearfully hither and thither, but none ventured to speak.
"Ida!" repeated Miss Rutherford, dropping on her knees by the two, and
beginning to wipe away some of the blood with her handkerchief. "Speak,
child! Has some one gone for the doctor? How was it done?"
The face at length turned upon the questioner was almost as ghastly and
red-stained as that it had been pressed against. But it had become
self-controlled; the dark eyes looked straight forward with an
expression marvellously full of meaning in one so young; the lips did
not tremble as they spoke.
"I did it, Miss Rutherford. I have killed Harriet. I, and nobody else."
"You? How, child?"
"I killed her with the slate, Miss Rutherford; this slate, look."
She pointed to a slate without a frame which lay on the floor. There
were sums worked on the uppermost side, and the pencil-marks were half
obliterated. For a moment the schoolmistress's amazement held her
motionless, but fresh and louder moans recalled her to the immediate
necessities of the case. She pushed Ida Starr aside, and, with the help
of a servant-girl who had by this time appeared in the room, raised the
sufferer into a chair, and began to apply what remedies suggested
themselves. The surgeon, whom several of the children had hastened to
seek, only lived a few yards away, and his assistant was speedily
present. Harriet Smales had quite recovered consciousness, and was very
soon able to give her own account of the incident. After listening to
her, Miss Rutherford turned to the schoolchildren, who were now seated
in the usual order on benches, and spoke to them with some degree of
calm.
"I am going to take Harriet home. Lucy Wood, you will please to see
that order is preserved in my absence; I shall only be away twenty
minutes, at the most. Ida Starr, you will go up into my sitting-room,
and remain there till I come to you. All take out your copy-books; I
shall examine the lines written whilst I am away."
The servant, who had been despatched for a cab, appeared at the door.
Harriet Smales was led out. Before leaving the house, Miss Rutherford
whispered to the servant an order to occupy herself in the
sitting-room, so as to keep Ida Starr in sight.
Miss Rutherford, strict disciplinarian when her nerves were not
unstrung, was as good as her promise with regard to the copy-books. She
had returned within the twenty minutes, and the first thing she did was
to walk along all the benches, making a comment here, a correction
there, in another place giving a word of praise. Then she took her
place at the raised desk whence she was wont to survey the little room.
There were present thirteen pupils, the oldest of them turned fifteen,
the youngest scarcely six. They appeared to be the daughters of
respectable people, probably of tradesmen in the neighbourhood. This
school was in Lisson Grove, in the north-west of London; a spot not to
be pictured from its name by those ignorant of the locality; in point
of fact a dingy street, with a mixture of shops and private houses. On
the front door was a plate displaying Miss Rutherford's name,--nothing
more. That lady herself was middle-aged, grave at all times, kindly,
and, be it added, fairly competent as things go in the world of school.
The room was rather bare, but the good fire necessitated by the winter
season was not wanting, and the plain boarding of the floor showed
itself no stranger to scrubbings. A clock hanging on the wall ticked
very loudly in the perfect stillness as the schoolmistress took her
seat.
She appeared to examine a book for a few moments, then raised her head,
looked at the faces before her with a troubled expression, and began to
speak.
"I wish to know who can give me any account of the way in which Harriet
Smales received her hurt. Stop! Hands only, please. And only those
raise their hands who actually saw the blow struck, and overheard _all_
that led to it. You understand, now? One, two, three--seven altogether,
that is quite enough. Those seven will wait in the room at four o'clock
till the others have all gone. Now I will give the first class their
sums."
The afternoon passed Very slowly to teacher and pupils alike. When the
clock struck four, work was put away with more than the usual noise and
hurry. Miss Rutherford seemed for a time to be on the point of making
some new address to the school before the children departed, but
eventually she decided to keep silence, and the dismissal was got over
as quickly as possible. The seven witnesses remained, solemnly seated
at their desks, all anxious-looking.
"Lucy Wood," Miss Rutherford began, when the door was closed and quiet,
"you are the eldest. Please tell me all you can of this sad affair."
There was one of the seven faces far more discomposed than the rest, a
sweet and spiritual little countenance; it was tear-stained, red-eyed;
the eager look, the trembling lips spoke some intimate cause of
sympathy. Before the girl addressed had time to begin her answer, this
other, one would have said in spite of herself, intervened with an
almost agonised question.
"Oh, Miss Rutherford, is Harriet really dead?"
"Hush, hush!" said the lady, with a shocked look. "No, my dear, she is
only badly hurt."
"And she really won't die?" pleaded the child, with an instant
brightening of look.
"Certainly not, certainly not. Now be quiet, Maud, and let Lucy begin."
Lucy, a sensible and matter-of-fact girl, made a straightforward
narration, the facts of which were concurred in by her companions.
Harriet Smales, it seemed, had been exercising upon Ida for some days
her utmost powers of irritation, teasing her, as Lucy put it, "beyond
all bearing." The cause of this was not unknown in the school, and Miss
Rutherford remembered the incident from which the malice dated. Harriet
had copied a sum in class from Ida's slate--she was always copying from
somebody--and the teacher, who had somehow detected her, asked Ida
plainly whether such was not the case. Ida made no reply, would not
speak, which of course was taken as confirmatory evidence, and the
culprit had accordingly received an imposition. Her spleen, thus
aroused, Harriet vented upon the other girl, who, she maintained, ought
to have stoutly denied the possibility of the alleged deceit, and so
have saved her. She gave poor Ida no rest, and her persecution had
culminated this afternoon; she began to "call Ida's mother names," the
result of which was that the assailed one suddenly snatched up her
slate, and, in an uncontrollable fit of passion, struck her tormentor a
blow with it upon the forehead.
"What did she call Ida's mother?" inquired Miss Rutherford, all at once
changing her look curiously.
"She called her a bad woman."
"Was that all?"
"No, please, Miss Rutherford," put in Maud eagerly. "She said she got
her living in the streets. And it isn't true. Ida's mother's a lady,
and doesn't sell things in the streets!"
The teacher looked down and was silent.
"I don't think I need ask any more questions," she said presently. "Run
away home all of you. What is it, my dear?"
Maud, she was about eleven, and small for her age, had remained behind,
and was looking anxiously up into Miss Rutherford's face.
"May I wait for Ida, please," she asked, "and--and walk home with her?
We go the same way."
"Not to-night, dear; no, not to-night. Ida Starr is in disgrace. She
will not go home just yet. Run away, now, there's a good girl."
Sadly, sadly was the command obeyed, and very slowly did Maud Enderby
walk along the streets homeward, ever turning back to see whether
perchance Ida might not be behind her.
Miss Rutherford ascended to her sitting-room. The culprit was standing
in a corner with her face to the wall.
"Why do you stand so?" asked the teacher gravely, but not very severely.
"I thought you'd want me to, Miss Rutherford."
"Come here to me, child."
Ida had clearly been crying for a long time, and there was still blood
on her face. She seemed to have made up her mind that the punishment
awaiting her must be dreadful, and she resolved to bear it humbly. She
came up, still holding her hands behind her, and stood with downcast
eyes. The hair which hung down over her shoulders was dark brown, her
eye-brows strongly marked, the eyes themselves rather deep-set. She
wore a pretty plum-coloured dress, with a dainty little apron in front;
her whole appearance bespeaking a certain taste and love of elegance in
the person who had the care of her.
"You will be glad to hear," said Miss Rutherford, "that Harriet's hurt
is not as serious as we feared at first. But she will have to stay at
home for some days."
There was no motion, or reply.
"Do you know that I am quite afraid of you, Ida? I had no idea that you
were so passionate. Had you no thought what harm you might do when you
struck that terrible blow?"
But Ida could not converse; no word was to be got from her.
"You must go home now," went on the schoolmistress after a pause, "and
not come back till I send for you. Tell your mother just what you have
done, and say that I will write to her about you. You understand what I
say, my child?"
The punishment had come upon her. Nothing worse than this had Ida
imagined; nay, nothing so bad. She drew in her breath, her fingers
wreathed themselves violently together behind her back. She half raised
her face, but could not resolve to meet her teacher's eyes. On the
permission to go being repeated, she left the room in silence,
descended the stairs with the slow steps of an old person, dressed
herself mechanically, and went out into the street. Miss Rutherford
stood for some time in profound and troubled thought, then sighed as
she returned to her usual engagements.
The following day was Saturday, and therefore a half-holiday. After
dinner, Miss Rutherford prepared herself for walking, and left home. A
quarter of an hour brought her to a little out-of-the-way thoroughfare
called Boston Street, close to the west side of Regent's Park, and here
she entered a chemist's shop, over which stood the name Smales. A
middle-aged man of very haggard and feeble appearance stood behind the
counter, and his manner to the lady as she addressed him was painfully
subservient. He spoke very little above a whisper, and as though
suffering from a severe sore throat, but it was his natural voice.
"She's better, I thank you, madam; much better, I hope and believe;
yes, much better."
He repeated his words nervously, rubbing his hands together feverishly
the while, and making his eye-brows go up and down in a curious way.
"Might I see her for a few moments?"
"She would be happy, madam, very happy: oh yes, I am sure, very happy
if--if you would have the kindness to come round, yes, round here,
madam, and--and to excuse our poor sitting-room. Thank you, thank you.
Harriet, my dear, Miss Rutherford has had the great, the very great,
goodness to visit you--to visit you personally--yes. I will leave you,
if--if you please--h'm, yes."
He shuffled away in the same distressingly nervous manner, and closed
the door behind him. The schoolmistress found herself in a dark little
parlour, which smelt even more of drugs than the shop itself. The
window looked out into a dirty back-yard, and was almost concealed with
heavy red curtains. As the eyes got accustomed to the dimness, one
observed that the floor was covered with very old oil-cloth, and that
the articles of furniture were few, only the most indispensable, and
all very shabby. Everything seemed to be dusty and musty. The only
approach to an ornament was a framed diploma hanging over the
mantelpiece, certifying that John Alfred Smales was a duly qualified
pharmaceutical chemist. A low fire burned in the grate, and before it,
in a chair which would probably have claimed the title of easy, sat the
girl Harriet Smales, her head in bandages.
She received Miss Rutherford rather sulkily, and as she moved, groaned
in a way which did not seem the genuine utterance of pain. After a few
sympathetic remarks, the teacher began to touch upon the real object of
her visit.
"I have no intention of blaming you, Harriet; I should not speak of
this at all, if it were not necessary. But I must ask you plainly what
reason you had for speaking of Ida Starr's mother as they say you did.
Why did you say she was a bad woman?"
"It's only what she is," returned Harriet sullenly, and with much
inward venom.
"What do you mean by that? Who has told you anything about her?"
Only after some little questioning the fact was elicited that Harriet
owed her ideas on the subject to a servant girl in the house, whose
name was Sarah.
"What does Sarah say, then?" asked Miss Rutherford.
"She says she isn't respectable, and that she goes about with men, and
she's only a common street-woman," answered the girl, speaking
evidently with a very clear understanding of what these accusations
meant. The schoolmistress looked away with a rather shocked expression,
and thought a little before speaking again.
"Well, that's all I wanted to ask you, Harriet," she said. "I won't
blame you, but I trust you will do as I wish, and never say such things
about any one again, whoever may tell you. It is our duty never to
speak ill of others, you know; least of all when we know that to do so
will be the cause of much pain and trouble. I hope you will very soon
be able to come back again to us. And now I will say good-bye."
In the shop Miss Rutherford renewed to the chemist her sincere regret
for what had taken place.
"Of course I cannot risk the recurrence of such a thing," she said.
"The child who did it will not return to me, Mr. Smales."
Mr. Smales uttered incoherent excuses, apologies, and thanks, and
shufflingly escorted the lady to his shop-door.
Miss Rutherford went home in trouble. She did not doubt the truth of
what Harriet Smales had told her, for she herself had already
entertained uneasy suspicions, dating indeed from the one interview she
had had with Mrs. Starr, when Ida was first brought to the school, and
deriving confirmation from a chance meeting in the street only a few
days ago. It was only too plain what she must do, and the necessity
grieved her. Ida had not shown any especial brilliancy at her books,
but the child's character was a remarkable one, and displayed a
strength which might eventually operate either for good or for evil.
With careful training, it seemed at present very probable that the good
would predominate. But the task was not such as the schoolmistress felt
able to undertake, bearing in mind the necessity of an irreproachable
character for her school if it were to be kept together at all. The
disagreeable secret had begun to spread; all the children would relate
the events of yesterday in their own homes; to pass the thing over was
impossible. She sincerely regretted the step she must take, and to
which she would not have felt herself driven by any ill-placed prudery
of her own. On Monday morning it must be stated to the girls that Ida
Starr had left.
In the meantime, it only remained to write to Mrs. Starr, and make
known this determination. Miss Rutherford thought for a little while of
going to see Ida's mother, but felt that this would be both painful and
useless. It was difficult even to write, desirous as she was of somehow
mitigating the harshness of this sentence of expulsion. After
half-an-hour spent in efforts to pen a suitable note, she gave up the
attempt to write as she would have wished, and announced the necessity
she was under in the fewest possible words.