"He's dead," answered the child.
"Well, but I suppose he was alive once wasn't he, duffer? What was he
before he was dead?"
"A barrister."
"What did he die of?"
"Consumption."
"How many servants do you keep?"
"One."
"How much have you got a year?"
"I don't know."
"How old are you?"
"Twelve and a quarter."
"Who made your dress?"
"Mother."
"Oh, I say, hang it, that's enough. Stop teasing the kid," said Maria
Morell, when the laughter caused by the last admission had died away.
But the squint spied a friend, ran to her, and there was a great deal
of whispering and sniggering. Presently the pair came sauntering up and
sat down; and after some artificial humming and hawing the newcomer
began to talk, in a loud and fussy manner, about certain acquaintances
of hers called Tweedledum and Tweedledee. Both the fat girl and the
squint "split" with laughter. Laura sat with her hands locked one
inside the other; there was no escape for her, for she did not know
where to go. But when the third girl put the regulation question:
"What's your name and what's your father?" she turned on her, with the
courage of despair.
"What's yours?" she retorted hotly, at the same time not at all sure
how the big girl might revenge herself. To her relief, the others burst
out laughing at their friend's bafflement.
"That's one for you, Kate Horner," said Maria with a chuckle. "Not bad
for the kid.--Come on, Kid, will you have a walk round the garden?"
"Oh yes, PLEASE," said Laura, reddening with pleasure; and there she
was, arm in arm with her fat saviour, promenading the grounds like any
other of the fifty-five.
She assumed, as well as she could, an air of feeling at her ease even
in the presence of the cold and curious looks that met her. The fat
girl was protective, and Laura felt too grateful to her to take it
amiss that every now and then she threw back her head and laughed anew,
at the remembrance of Laura's patronymics; or that she still exchanged
jokes about them with the other couple, when they met.
But by this time half an hour had slipped away, and the girls were fast
disappearing. Maria Morell loitered till the last minute, then said,
she, too, must be off to 'stew'. Every one was hastening across the
verandah laden with books, and disappearing down a corridor. Left
alone, Laura made her way back to the dining-hall. Here some of the
very young boarders were preparing their lessons, watched over by a
junior governess. Laura lingered for a little, to see if no order were
forthcoming, then diffidently approached the table and asked the
governess if she would please tell her what to do.
"I'm sure I don't know," answered that lady, disinclined for
responsibility. "You'd better ask Miss Chapman. Here, Maggie, show her
where the study is."
Laura followed the little girl over the verandah and down the corridor.
At the end, the child pointed to a door, and on opening this Laura
found herself in a very large brightly lighted room, where the boarders
sat at two long tables with their books before them. Every head was
raised at her entrance. In great embarrassment, she threaded her way to
the more authoritative-looking of the governesses in charge, and
proffered her request. It was not understood, and she had to repeat it.
"I'm sure I don't know," said Miss Day in her turn: she had stiff,
black, wavy hair, a vivid colour, and a big, thick nose which made her
profile resemble that of a horse. "Can't you twiddle your thumbs for a
bit?--Oh well, if you're so desperately anxious for an occupation,
you'd better ask Miss Chapman."
The girls in the immediate neighbourhood laughed noiselessly, in a
bounden-duty kind of way, at their superior's pleasantry, and Laura,
feeling as though she had been hit, crossed to the other table. Miss
Chapman, the head governess, was neither so hard-looking nor so
brilliant as Miss Day. She even eyed Laura somewhat uneasily, meanwhile
toying with a long gold chain, after the manner of the Lady
Superintendent.
"Didn't Mrs. Gurley tell you what to do?" she queried. "I should think
it likely she would. Oh well, if she didn't, I suppose you'd better
bring your things downstairs. Yes ... and ask Miss Zielinski to give
you a shelf."
Miss Zielinski--she was the governess in the dining-hall--said: "Oh,
very well," in the rather whiny voice that seemed natural to her, and
went on reading.
"Please, I don't think I know my way," ventured Laura.
"Follow your nose and you'll find it!" said Miss Zielinski without
looking up, and was forthwith wrapt in her novel again.
Once more Laura climbed the wide staircase: it was but dimly lighted,
and the passages were in darkness. After a few false moves she found
her room, saw that her box had been taken away, her books left lying
[P.51] on a chair. But instead of picking them up, she threw herself on
her bed and buried her face in the pillow. She did not dare to cry, for
fear of making her eyes red, but she hugged the cool linen to her
cheeks.
"I hate them all," she said passionately, speaking aloud to herself.
"Oh, HOW I hate them!"--and wild schemes of vengeance flashed through
her young mind. She did not even halt at poison or the knife: a big
cake, sent by Mother, of which she invited all alike to partake, and
into which she inserted a fatal poison, so that the whole school died
like rabbits; or a nightly stabbing, a creeping from bed to bed in the
dark, her penknife open in her hand...
But she had not lain thus for more than a very few minutes when steps
came along the passage; and she had only just time to spring to her
feet before one of the little girls appeared at the door.
"You're to come down at once."
"Don't you know you're not ALLOWED to stay upstairs?" asked Miss
Zielinski crossly. "What were you doing?" And as Laura did not reply:
"What was she doing, Jessie?"
"I don't know," said the child. "She was just standing there." And all
the little girls laughed, after the manner of their elders.
Before Laura had finished arranging her belongings on the shelves that
were assigned to her, some of the older girls began to drop in from the
study. One unceremoniously turned over her books, which were lying on
the table.
"Let's see what the kid's got."
Now Laura was proud of her collection: it really made a great show; for
a daughter of Godmother's had once attended the College, and her
equipment had been handed down to Laura.
"Why, you don't mean to say a kid like you's in the Second Principia
already?" said a big girl, and held up, incredulously, Smith's black
and red boards. "Wherever did YOU learn Latin?"
In the reediest of voices Laura was forced to confess that she had
never learnt Latin at all.
The girl eyed her in dubious amaze, then burst out laughing. "Oh, I
say!" she called to a friend. "Here's a rum go. Here's this kid brings
the Second Principia with her and doesn't know the First."
Several others crowded round; and all found this divergence from the
norm, from the traditional method of purchasing each book new and as it
was needed, highly ridiculous. Laura, on her knees before her shelf,
pretended to be busy; but she could not see what she was doing, for the
mist that gathered in her eyes.
Just at this moment, however, in marched Maria Morell. "Here, I say,
stop that!" she cried. "You're teasing that kid again. I won't have it.
Here, come on, Kid--Laura Tweedledum come and sit by me for supper."
For the second time, Laura was thankful to the fat girl. But as
ill-luck would have it, Miss Chapman chanced to let her eyes stray in
their direction; and having fingered her chain indecisively for a
little, said: "It seems a pity, doesn't it, Miss Day, that that nice
little girl should get in with that vulgar set?"
Miss Chapman liked to have her opinions confirmed. But this was a
weakness Miss Day did not pamper; herself strong-minded, she could
afford to disregard Miss Chapman's foibles. So she went on with her
book, and ignored the question. But Miss Zielinski, who lost no
opportunity of making herself agreeable to those over her, said with
foreign emphasis: "Yes, indeed it does."
So Laura was summoned and made to sit down at the end of the room,
close to the governesses and beside the very big girls--girls of
eighteen and nineteen, who seemed older still to her, with their
figures, and waists, and skirts that touched the ground.
Instinctively she felt that they resented her proximity. The biggest of
all, a pleasant-faced girl with a kind smile, said on seeing her
downcast air: "Poor little thing! Never mind." But when they talked
among themselves they lowered their voices and cast stealthy glances at
her, to see if she were listening.
Supper over, three chairs were set out in an exposed position; the big
bell in the passage was lightly touched; everyone fetched a hymn-book,
one with music in it being handed to Miss Chapman at the piano. The
door opened to admit first Mrs. Gurley, then the Principal and his
wife--a tall, fair gentleman in a long coat, and a sweet-faced lady,
who wore a rose in her velvet dress.
"Let us sing in the hundred and fifty-seventh hymn," said the
gentleman, who had a Grecian profile and a drooping, sandy moustache;
and when Miss Chapman had played through the tune, the fifty-five, the
governesses, the lady and gentleman rose to their feet and sang, with
halting emphasis, of the Redeemer and His mercy, to Miss Chapman's
accompaniment, which was as indecisive as her manner, the left hand
dragging lamely along after the right.
"Let us read in the third chapter of the Second Epistle of Paul to the
Thessalonians."
Everyone laid her hymn-book on the table and sat down to listen to
Paul's words, which the sandy gentleman read to a continual nervous
movement of the left leg.
"Let us pray."
Obeying the word, the fifty-five rose, faced about, and knelt to their
chairs. It was an extempore prayer, and a long one, and Laura did not
hear much of it; for the two big girls on her right kept up throughout
a running conversation. Also, when it was about half over she was
startled to hear Miss Zielinski say, in a shrill whisper: "Heavens!
There's that mouse again," and audibly draw her skirts round her. Even
Miss Chapman, praying to her piano-chair some distance off, had heard,
and turned her head to frown rebuke.
The prayer at an end, Mr. and Mrs. Strachey bowed vaguely in several
directions, shook hands with the governesses, and left the room. This
was the signal for two of the teachers to advance with open Bibles.
"Here, little one, have you learned your verse?" whispered Laura's
pleasant neighbour.
Laura knew nothing of it; but the big girl lent her a Bible, and, since
it was not a hard verse and every girl repeated it, it was quickly
learned.