The elderly lady was Laura's godmother; she lived at Prahran, and it
was at her house that Laura would sometimes spend a monthly holiday.
Godmother was good to them all in a brusque, sharp-tongued fashion; but
Pin was her especial favourite and she made no secret of it. Her
companion on the platform was a cousin of Laura's, of at least twice
Laura's age, who invariably struck awe into the children by her loud
and ironic manner of speech. She was an independent, manly person, in
spite of her plump roundnesses; she lived by herself in lodgings, and
earned her own living as a clerk in an office.
The first greetings over, Godmother's attention was entirely taken up
by Laura's box: after this had been picked out from among the other
luggage, grave doubts were expressed whether it could be got on to the
back seat of the pony-carriage, to which it was conveyed by a porter
and the boy. Laura stood shyly by and waited, while Cousin Grace kept
up the conversation by putting abrupt and embarrassing questions.
"How's your ma?" she demanded rather than asked, in the slangy and
jocular tone she employed. "I guess she'll be thanking her stars she's
got rid of you;" at which Laura smiled uncertainly, not being sure
whether Cousin Grace spoke in jest or earnest.
"I suppose you think no end of yourself going to boarding-school?"
continued the latter.
"Oh no, not at all," protested Laura with due modesty; and as both at
question and answer Cousin Grace laughed boisterously, Laura was glad
to hear Godmother calling: "Come, jump in. The ponies won't stand."
Godmother was driving herself--a low basket-carriage, harnessed to two
buff-coloured ponies. Laura sat with her back to them. Godmother
flapped the reins and said: "Get up!" but she was still fretted about
the box, which was being held on behind by the boy. An inch larger, she
asserted, and it would have had to be left behind. Laura eyed its
battered sides uneasily. Godmother might remember, she thought, that it
contained her whole wardrobe; and she wondered how many of Godmother's
own ample gowns could be compressed into so small a space.
"All my clothes are inside," she explained; "that I shall need for
months."
"Ah, I expect your poor mother has sat up sewing herself to death, that
you may be as well dressed as the rest of them," said Godmother, and
heaved a doleful sigh. But Cousin Grace laughed the wide laugh that
displayed a mouthful of great healthy teeth.
"What? All your clothes in there?" she cried. "I say! You couldn't be a
queen if you hadn't more togs than that."
"Oh, I know," Laura hastened to reply, and grew very red. "Queens need
a lot more clothes than I've got."
"Tut, tut!" said Godmother: she did not understand the allusion, which
referred to a former ambition of Laura's. "Don't talk such nonsense to
the child."
She drove very badly, and they went by quiet by-streets to escape the
main traffic: the pony-chaise wobbled at random from one side of the
road to the other, obstacles looming up only just in time for Godmother
to see them. The ponies shook and tossed their heads at the constant
sawing of the bits, and Laura had to be continually ducking, to keep
out of the way of the reins. She let the unfamiliar streets go past her
in a kind of dream; and there was silence for a time, broken only by
Godmother's expostulations with the ponies, till Cousin Grace, growing
tired of playing her bright eyes first on this, then on that, brought
them back to Laura and studied her up and down.
"I say, who on earth trimmed your hat?" she asked almost at once.
"Mother," answered Laura bravely, while the colour mounted to her
cheeks again.
"Well, I guess she made up her mind you shouldn't get lost as long as
you wore it," went on her cousin with disconcerting candour. "It makes
you look just like a great big red double dahlia."
"Let the child be. She looks well enough," threw in Godmother in her
snappish way. But Laura was sure that she, too disapproved; and felt
more than she heard the muttered remark about "Jane always having had a
taste for something gay."
"Oh, I like the colour very much. I chose it myself," said Laura, and
looked straight at the two faces before her. But her lips twitched. She
would have liked to snatch the hat from her head, to throw it in front
of the ponies and hear them trample it under their hoofs. She had never
wanted the scarlet lining of the big, upturned brim; in a dislike to
being conspicuous which was incomprehensible to Mother, she had
implored the latter to "leave it plain". But Mother had said:
"Nonsense!" and "Hold your tongue!" and "I know better,"--with this
result.
Oh yes, she saw well enough how Godmother signed with her eyes to
Cousin Grace to say no more; but she pretended not to notice, and for
the remainder of the drive nobody spoke. They went past long lines of
grey houses, joined one to another and built exactly alike; past large,
fenced-in public parks where all kinds of odd, unfamiliar trees grew,
with branches that ran right down their trunks, and bushy leaves. The
broad streets were hilly; the wind, coming in puffs, met them with
clouds of gritty white dust. They had just, with bent heads, their
hands at their hats, passed through one of these miniature whirlwinds,
when turning a corner they suddenly drew up, and the boy sprang to the
ponies' heads. Laura, who had not been expecting the end so soon, saw
only a tall wooden fence; but Cousin Grace looked higher, gave a stagey
shudder and cried: "Oh my eye Betty Martin! Aren't I glad it isn't me
that's going to school! It looks just like a prison."
It certainly was an imposing building viewed from within, when the
paling-gate had closed behind them. To Laura, who came from a township
of one-storied brick or weatherboard houses, it seemed vast in its
breadth and height, appalling in its sombre greyness. Between Godmother
and Cousin Grace she walked up an asphalted path, and mounted the steps
that led to a massive stone portico. The bell Godmother rang made no
answering sound, but after a very few seconds the door swung back, and
a slender maidservant in cap and apron stood before them. She smiled at
them pleasantly, as, in Chinaman-fashion, they crossed the threshold;
then, inclining her head at a murmured word from Godmother, she
vanished as lightly as she had come, and they sat and looked about
them. They were in a plainly furnished but very lofty waiting-room.
There were two large windows. The venetian blinds had not been lowered,
and the afternoon sun, beating in, displayed a shabby patch on the
carpet. It showed up, too, a coating of dust that had gathered on the
desk-like, central table. There was the faint, distinctive smell of
strange furniture. But what impressed Laura most was the stillness. No
street noises pierced the massy walls, but neither did the faintest
echo of all that might be taking place in the great building itself
reach their ears: they sat aloof, shut off, as it were, from the living
world. And this feeling soon grew downright oppressive: it must be like
this to be dead, thought Laura to herself; and inconsequently
remembered a quarter of an hour she had once spent in a dentist's
ante-room: there as here the same soundless vacancy, the same anguished
expectancy. Now, as then, her heart began to thump so furiously that
she was afraid the others would hear it. But they, too, were subdued;
though Cousin Grace tittered continually you heard only a gentle
wheezing, and even Godmother expressed the hope that they would not be
kept waiting long, under her breath. But minute after minute went by;
there they sat and nothing happened. It began to seem as if they might
sit on for ever.
All of a sudden, from out the spacious halls of which they had caught a
glimpse on arriving, brisk steps began to come towards them over the
oilcloth--at first as a mere tapping in the distance, then rapidly
gaining in weight and decision. Laura's palpitations reached their
extreme limit--another second and they might have burst her chest.
Cousin Grace ceased to giggle; the door opened with a peculiar
flourish; and all three rose to their feet.
The person who entered was a very stately lady; she wore a cap with
black ribbons. With the door-handle still in her hand she made a slight
obeisance, in which her whole body joined, afterwards to become more
erect than before. Having introduced herself to Godmother as Mrs.
Gurley, the Lady Superintendent of the institution, she drew up a
chair, let herself down upon it, and began to converse with an air of
ineffable condescension.
While she talked Laura examined her, with a child's thirst for detail.
Mrs. Gurley was large and generous of form, and she carried her head in
such a haughty fashion that it made her look taller than she really
was. She had a high colour, her black hair was touched with grey, her
upper teeth were prominent. She wore gold eyeglasses, many rings, a
long gold chain, which hung from an immense cameo brooch at her throat,
and a black apron with white flowers on it, one point of which was
pinned to her ample bosom. The fact that Laura had just such an apron
in her box went only a very little way towards reviving her spirits;
for altogether Mrs. Gurley was the most impressive person she had ever
set eyes on. Beside her, God mother was nothing but a plump,
shortsighted fidgety lady.
Particularly awe-inspiring was Mrs. Gurley when she listened to another
speaking. She held her head a little to one side, her teeth met her
underlip and her be-ringed hands toyed incessantly with the long gold
chain, in a manner which seemed to denote that she set little value on
what was being said. Awful, too, was the habit she had of suddenly
lowering her head and looking at you over the tops of her glasses: when
she did this, and when her teeth came down on her lip, you would have
liked to shrink to the size of a mouse. Godmother, it was true, was not
afraid of her; but Cousin Grace was hushed at last and as for Laura
herself, she consciously wore a fixed little simper, which was meant to
put it beyond doubt that butter would not melt in her mouth.
Godmother now asked if she might say a few words in private, and the
two ladies left the room. As the door closed behind them Cousin Grace
began to be audible again.
"Oh, snakes!" she giggled, and her double chin spread itself "There's a
Tartar for you! Don't I thank my stars it's not me that's being shunted
off here! She'll give you what-for."
"I don't think so. I think she's very nice," said Laura staunchly, out
of an instinct that made her chary of showing fear, or pain, or grief.
But her heart began to bound again, for the moment in which she would
be left alone.
"You see!" said Cousin Grace. "It'll be bread and water for a week, if
you can't do AMARE first go-off--not to mention the deponents."
"What's AMARE?" asked Laura anxiously, and her eyes grew so big that
they seemed to fill her face.
But Cousin Grace only laughed till it seemed probable that she would
burst her bodice; and Laura blushed, aware that she had compromised
herself anew.
There followed a long and nervous pause.
"I bet Godmother's asking her not to wallop you too often," the tease
had just begun afresh, when the opening of the door forced her to
swallow her sentence in the middle.
Godmother would not sit down; so the dreaded moment had come.
"Now, Laura. Be a good girl and learn well, and be a comfort to your
mother.--Not that there's much need to urge her to her books,"
Godmother interrupted herself, turning to Mrs. Gurley. "The trouble her
dear mother has always had has been to keep her from them."
Laura glowed with pleasure. Now at least the awful personage would know
that she was clever, and loved to learn. But Mrs. Gurley smiled the
chilliest thinkable smile of acknowledgment, and did not reply a word.
She escorted the other to the front door, and held it open for them to
pass out. Then, however, her pretence of affability faded clean away:
turning her head just so far that she could look down her nose at her
own shoulder, she said: "Follow me!"--in a tone Mother would not have
used even to Sarah. Feeling inexpressibly small Laura was about to
obey, when a painful thought struck her.
"Oh please, I had a box--with my clothes in it!" she cried. "Oh, I hope
they haven't forgotten and taken it away again."
But she might as well have spoken to the hatstand: Mrs. Gurley had
sailed off, and was actually approaching a turn in the hall before
Laura made haste to follow her and to keep further anxiety about her
box to herself. They went past one staircase, round a bend into shadows
as black as if, outside, no sun were shining, and began to ascend
another flight of stairs, which was the widest Laura had ever seen. The
banisters were as thick as your arm, and on each side of the
stair-carpeting the space was broad enough for two to walk abreast:
what a splendid game of trains you could have played there! On the
other hand the landing windows were so high up that only a giant could
have seen out of them.
These things occurred to Laura mechanically. What really occupied her,
as she trudged behind, was how she could please this hard-faced woman
and make her like her, for the desire to please, to be liked by all the
world, was the strongest her young soul knew. And there must be a way,
for Godmother had found it without difficulty.
She took two steps at once, to get nearer to the portly back in front
of her.
"What a VERY large place this is!" she said in an insinuating voice.
She hoped the admiration, thus subtly expressed in the form of
surprise, would flatter Mrs. Gurley, as a kind of co-proprietor; but it
was evident that it did nothing of the sort: the latter seemed to have
gone deaf and dumb, and marched on up the stairs, her hands clasped at
her waist, her eyes fixed ahead, like a walking stone-statue.
On the top floor she led the way to a room at the end of a long
passage. There were four beds in this room, a washhand-stand, a chest
of drawers, and a wall cupboard. But at first sight Laura had eyes only
for the familiar object that stood at the foot of one of the beds.
"Oh, THERE'S my box!" she cried, "Someone must have brought it up."
It was unroped; she had simply to hand over the key. Mrs. Gurley went
down on her knees before it, opened the lid, and began to pass the
contents to Laura, directing her where to lay and hang them. Overawed
by such complaisance, Laura moved nimbly about the room shaking and
unfolding, taking care to be back at the box to the minute so as not to
keep Mrs. Gurley waiting. And her promptness was rewarded; the stern
face seemed to relax. At the mere hint of this, Laura grew warm through
and through; and as she could neither control her feelings nor keep
them to herself, she rushed to an extreme and overshot the mark.
"I've got an apron like that. I think they're so pretty," she said
cordially, pointing to the one Mrs. Gurley wore.
The latter abruptly stopped her work, and, resting her hands on the
sides of the box, gave Laura one of the dreaded looks over her glasses,
looked at her from top to toe, and as though she were only now
beginning to see her. There was a pause, a momentary suspension of the
breath, which Laura soon learned to expect before a rebuke.
"Little gels," said Mrs. Gurley--and even in the midst of her confusion
Laura could not but be struck by the pronunciation of this word.
"Little gels--are required--to wear white aprons when they come
here!"--a break after each few words, as well as an emphatic
head-shake, accentuated their severity. "And I should like to know, if
your mother, has never taught you, that it is very rude, to point, and
also to remark, on what people wear."
Laura went scarlet: if there was one thing she, Mother all of them
prided themselves on, it was the good manners that had been instilled
into them since their infancy.--The rough reproof seemed to scorch her.
She went to and fro more timidly than before. Then, however, something
happened which held a ray of hope.
"Why, what is this?" asked Mrs. Gurley freezingly, and held up to
view--with the tips of her fingers, Laura thought--a small, black
Prayer Book. "Pray, are you not a dissenter?"--For the College was
nonconformist.
"Well ... no, I'm not," said Laura, in a tone of intense apology. Here,
at last, was her chance. "But it really doesn't matter a bit. I can go
to another church quite well. I even think I'd rather. For a change.
And the service isn't so long, at least so I've heard--except the
sermon," she added truthfully.
Had she denied religion altogether, the look Mrs. Gurley bent on her
could not have been more annihilating.
"There is--unfortunately!--no occasion, for you to do anything of the
kind," she retorted. "I myself, am an Episcopalian, and I expect those
gels, who belong to the Church of England, to attend it, with me."
The unpacking at an end, Mrs. Gurley rose, smoothed down her apron, and
was just on the point of turning away, when on the bed opposite Laura's
she espied an under-garment, lying wantonly across the counterpane. At
this blot on the orderliness of the room she seemed to swell like a
turkey-cock, seemed literally to grow before Laura's eyes as, striding
to the door, she commanded an invisible some one to send Lilith Gordon
to her "DI-rectly!"!
There was an awful pause; Laura did not dare to raise her head; she
even said a little prayer. Mrs. Gurley stood working at her chain, and
tapping her foot--like a beast waiting for its prey, thought the child.
And at last a hurried step was heard in the corridor, the door opened
and a girl came in, high-coloured and scant of breath. Laura darted one
glance at Mrs. Gurley's face, then looked away and studied the pattern
of a quilt, trying not to hear what was said. Her throat swelled, grew
hard and dry with pity for the culprit. But Lilith Gordon--a girl with
sandy eyebrows, a turned-up nose, a thick plait of red-gold hair, and a
figure so fully developed that Laura mentally dubbed it a "lady's
figure", and put its owner down for years older than herself--Lilith
Gordon neither fell on her knees nor sank through the floor. Her lashes
were lowered, in a kind of dog-like submission, and her face had gone
very red when Laura ventured to look at her again; but that was all.
And Mrs. Gurley having swept Jove-like from the room, this bold girl
actually set her finger to her nose and muttered: "Old Brimstone
Beast!" As she passed Laura, too, she put out her tongue and said: "Now
then, goggle-eyes, what have you got to stare at?"
Laura was deeply hurt: she had gazed at Lilith out of the purest
sympathy. And now, as she stood waiting for Mrs. Gurley, who seemed to
have forgotten her, the strangeness of things, and the general
unfriendliness of the people struck home with full force. The late
afternoon sun was shining in, in an unfamiliar way; outside were
strange streets, strange noises, a strange white dust, the expanse of a
big, strange city. She felt unspeakably far away now, from the small,
snug domain of home. Here, nobody wanted her ... she was alone among
strangers, who did not even like her ... she had already, without
meaning it, offended two of them.
Another second, and the shameful tears might have found their way out.
But at this moment there was a kind of preparatory boom in the
distance, and the next, a great bell clanged through the house, pealing
on and on, long after one's ears were rasped by the din. It was
followed by an exodus from the rooms round about; there was a sound of
voices and of feet. Mrs. Gurley ceased to give orders in the passage,
and returning, bade Laura put on a pinafore and follow her.
They descended the broad staircase. At a door just at the foot, Mrs.
Gurley paused and smoothed her already faultless bands of hair; then
turned the handle and opened the door, with the majestic swing Laura
had that day once before observed.