Two Worlds and Their Ways (35 page)

“I was thinking of the dress she had at Christmas.”

“It would not do to think of the other things,” said Clemence.

“You go further than you know, Miss Clemence,” said Adela, on a severe note.

“Why don't you come back to school, Clemence, with a lot of nice things?” said Esther.

“The prospect is not in my line. Neither one part of it nor the other.”

“There are other things at school than wearing pretty clothes,” said Adela. “When Miss Clemence came home, my heart ached to see her.”

“But she is clever at her books, Adela,” said Maud.

“Clever at her books,” murmured Verity, in mockery of Maud's adaptation of herself.

“She can be that at home miss, as she always had been. It did not come from leaving it.”

“What a lovely view!” said Esther, going to the window. “We should like to see the park, Clemence.”

“Esther, that suggestion should have come from Clemence,” said Verity, in the tones of Maud.

“I will have Miss Clemence ready in a moment, miss.”

Clemence stood to be dressed, as though used to doing nothing for herself, regardful of Adela's conception of a girl attended by her maid, but feeling that the clothes modified
it to one of a child and a nurse. Then she accepted the arms of her companions and descended the stairs. They walked with linked arms about the park, now and then catching a glimpse of the boys, but showing no wish to advance on it. Clemence held herself uneasily, fearful of eyes at the windows. The gulf between the words of school and home, the ignorance in each of the other, made her wonder she had ever thought she could live between them. Exhaustion was superseding excitement, and she found herself longing for the end of the day.

“I suppose you know every inch of this park, Clemence?” said Verity.

“Well, all the separate parts of it. It is different at different times of the year. It is best in spring and autumn.”

“I think I like the country in the winter best,” said Maud.

“I wonder how often that is true,” said Verity. “It sounds a thing worth saying for the sake of saying it.”

“It is true in my case, Verity, or I should not have said it.”

“What time is really the best, Clemence?” said Esther.

“I think, myself, the spring. Then it changes every day. In the winter it is always the same.”

“You are a happy creature, Clemence,” said Gwendolen, causing Clemence a sense of surprise. “The house and the park, and your father and brother, and your mother and Miss Petticott. It must be perfect, mustn't it, Maud?”

“Well, talking of perfection, Gwendolen, I should say that the last item, if I may use such a word, is the dubious one. The sameness in the education is perhaps the weak point.”

“Of course you may not use the word. Miss Petticott is not an item.”

“That was surely unworthy of you, Maud,” said Verity.

“Never mind, Maud,” said Esther. “There are times when self-approval must be enough.”

“I did not know that such a feeling came into the matter, Esther.”

“I must stop you all and fasten my coat,” said Gwendolen. “Adela does not take as much care of me as she does of Clemence.”

“Clemence must have found it odd, when she came to school, to do things for herself,” said Esther.

“Well, she has soon forgotten again,” said Verity.

“Oh, Adela does not always fuss over me like that. She was making an impression on guests. And it does not make much difference, with my kind of dressing.”

“Why do you have a special kind?” said Esther.

“Oh, I do not know. I did not know I had until I went to school. I think it is a sort of family custom.”

“You knew you had those, when you came to school,” said Esther.

“The shabbiness of a duchess!” said Verity. “I will not emulate it until I become one.”

“Clemence made no such implication,” said Maud.

“It is odd to see Miss Firebrace in the house,” said Esther. “I wonder how she likes not being deferred to by everyone.”

“I should always just defer to her,” said Gwendolen.

“That is what I did this time,” said Clemence. “It was easier not to change.”

“And the difference in your age and position does give a certain basis to the relation,” said Maud. “Though an assumption of general deference might be the danger of a situation like hers.”

“Was there any mention of what happened at school, Clemence?” said Esther, with more than her usual suddenness.

“Oh, it was in the atmosphere at first. But it soon passed off. School is only school, after all. And I suppose that was what was felt.”

“I should hardly have thought that implication was in place, Clemence,” said Maud. “About your father I cannot say, as we talked of other things, but your mother seemed interested in education, and anxious for your success.”

“Oh, yes, she has a serious mind in her way. In a sense she is ambitious for us, though it is difficult to know what she wants. She does not seem to know, herself. She had Miss Firebrace thrust upon her as a ready-made relation, and that did not prejudice her in favour of what she represents. She has made every effort to get over the bias, and with a good deal of success; she does not show it, as you say. But one term of school for us was enough for her. It was easy to see that.”

“It sounds as if an afternoon with Miss Chancellor might make it all too much,” said Verity.

“Oh, I think she likes talking to Miss Chancellor. That easy, obvious intellectualism is just the thing. Not that it would be, if she had had different opportunities, because it would not.”

“You never used to strike that disparaging note about Miss Chancellor at school, Clemence,” said Maud. “And as you have not seen her since you left, it can hardly have much foundation.”

“It is seeing her suddenly with people outside the school. It seems to show her as she is.”

“Do we all stand exposed in this merciless light?” said Verity.

“Well, I had not seen you in it before. But then neither had you seen me with my family. We all know more about each other now. These things are the same on both sides.”

“I am frightened,” said Gwendolen. “Clemence has a hidden self.”

“Which would you put higher as an educationist, Clemence, Miss Petticott or Miss Chancellor?” said Maud, in an even tone.

“Oh, the dear old Petticoat! I do not compare her with other people. She is just herself.”

“We honour you for the sentiment,” said Verity.

“Maud, are you honouring Clemence?” said Gwendolen.

“I am a most appreciative guest, Gwendolen. But this is
a matter by itself. You made a great advance when you came under Miss Chancellor, Clemence. Are you taking that into account?”

“Yes, but not too much. It was more than I should have made, if I had not had the foundation. That rather points to something in Miss Petticott.”

“When things are pointed to, ought we to see them?” said Verity.

“No, of course not. Not in Miss Petticott's case. None of you would see anything about her at first. No ordinary person would.”

“I can't help my own nature,” said Gwendolen, giggling. “I find I like Maud to be called ordinary. I wish I were a better girl.”

“I have no objection to being included in that category, Gwendolen.”

“Oh, nonsense, everyone has,” said Verity. “How Clemence does despise us all! No wonder she wanted to leave the school. I wonder she asked us here today. I suppose she imagined that her better nature would triumph.”

“I do think you want a good deal of appreciation of yourselves and the school.”

“I like a little for myself,” said Gwendolen. “And I somehow feel I am having it. I think Clemence is one of those good hostesses who attend to the wants of their guests without seeming to do so.”

“Did your father mind what happened to you at school, Clemence?” said Esther.

“Oh, he seemed to think it was a natural thing. He said it always happened when he was a boy. He seemed to see it as quite ordinary.”

“I know who your grandfather is,” said Gwendolen. “I mean the man who is not your grandfather. I am not too stupid to understand. And I was beginning to think I was.”

“I was beginning to think you all were,” said Clemence.

“Does your mother mind his living here?” said Esther.

“Well, I do not suppose she would choose it. She has
been very good about it. I think my father is grateful to her.”

“She must like having his gratitude,” said Gwendolen. “I think it would be an ample reward. He was an angel with us, and with the boys, and with the matrons, and a different sort of angel with each. How nice the other matron is! I like matrons much better than other people.”

Miss Petticott's figure was seen advancing across the grass.

“Now it is sad to interrupt your walk and talk, but tea has to be early because of the trains.”

The girls turned at once, attached Miss Petticott to their line with an ease than ranked her with the matrons, and proceeded towards the house; and she accompanied them with a springy step that was the result of the latter's companionship.

“It is pleasant to eat for so much of the day,” said Gwendolen, as they came to the table. “At school we have such long breaks from food.”

“Well, really, Gwendolen, what impression will you give?” said Miss Chancellor, who herself gave one of unwittingly finding herself where she was.

“I hope you did not catch cold in the park,” said Maria. “I saw you from the window and wished you would run about. Perhaps you kept each other warm.”

“We always go about linked up like that, Lady Shelley,” said Gwendolen, “even at school, where the staircase is not wide enough to allow of it. I do not know how we manage.”

“I have never quite solved the problem, Gwendolen,” said Miss Chancellor.

“I wondered how it was done, when I first got to school,” said Clemence. “I was at the end of the line and wondered what would happen to me. But nothing did.”

“Clemence despises the school ways,” said Verity, causing Maria to turn fond eyes on her daughter. “She has asked us here today with contempt in her heart.”

“You should not speak true words in jest,” said Esther.

“Verity is rather speaking untrue words in earnest,” said Maud. “And that she clearly should not do.”

“I wish I had taught in a girls' school instead of a boys',” said Oliver. “It would have done much more for me.”

“Why do you not try the experiment?” said Miss Chancellor. “You could come to us as a visiting master.”

“If I could not be at prayers, and jostle people in the passage, and hear housemaids sing on the stairs, I should not count it.”

“I am afraid you could not fulfil that programme at our school, Mr. Shelley.”

“Well, naturally, I was not thinking of any other.”

“Suppose all these were my grandchildren.” said Mr. Firebrace, looking round. “I might have had as many.”

“Then I am sure Maria would let you have them all here,” said Oliver. “But do not speak to wound me, Grandpa. I have tried to be enough for you.”

“Would you like to have me for a grandfather, my dear?” said Mr. Firebrace to Gwendolen.

“Well, I don't much like having people for grandfathers. I have two for them, and they say I am brought up in the modern way.”

“They ought to be ashamed of themselves.”

“It is me they are ashamed of, and it is embarrassing to cause shame. I do not mind feeling it. One has to get used to that.”

“These are three good boys, Miss James,” said Oliver. “I think I remember them.”

“You remember Sturgeon,” said Bacon, “because you asked him about the potted meat.”

“I remembered the potted meat, and wondered what reminded me of it, and found it was Sturgeon. Do you remember the potted meat, Miss James?”

“No, it is the kind of thing one forgets, Mr. Shelley.”

“And you remember Holland,” said Bacon, “because you asked him about his music.”

“And I remember you. You are the boy who tends upwards.
How I have proved my social memory! It is a thing one should always possess. I think I am really at the mercy of it.”

“Do you all enjoy your school life?” said Maria, to the girls.

“It is not the life that I mind, as much as the advantages,” said Gwendolen. “I do find those a great strain.”

“I enjoy it to the full, Lady Shelley, and do so consciously,” said Maud. “I realise that it will not last for ever.”

“I wish I could,” said Verity. “Some things seem never to come true. I envy Maud her simple faith.”

“Do you think I am depriving Clemence of something she ought to have?”

“I expect you are,” said Gwendolen. “People ought to have advantages. They are like plain, wholesome food, and not too much excitement. It is the duty of parents to attend to it.”

“What do you think, Miss Chancellor, if I have not asked you before? Anyhow I ask you again.”

“Well, Gwendolen and I are not often of one mind. I usually find myself correcting her views. But this time I am of her opinion, though I should not express it quite in her way.”

“Do you think I am thinking of myself and not of Clemence?”

“No one who knows you even as well as I do, could think that, Lady Shelley. Thinking of yourself has not played a large part in your life.”

“I am thinking of Clemence and of myself as well,” said Sir Roderick. “Why should not we both be considered? Answer me that, Miss Chancellor. I mean, do you not see it as a reasonable view?”

“In the matter of education the young person claims the thought, Sir Roderick. Her future is involved, as the older person's is not.”

“But my present is involved, and there is nothing else for
me. And Clemence does not want to leave her father.”