The Getting of Wisdom Part 17

"Then I've the pleasure of knowing your mother.--Tall dark woman, isn't she?"

Under the table, Laura locked the palms of her hands and stemmed her feet against the floor. Was here, now, before them all, and Bob in particular, the shameful secret of the embroidery to come to light? She could hardly force her lips to frame an answer.

Her confusion was too patent to be overlooked. Above her lowered head, signs pa.s.sed between husband and wife, and soon afterwards the family rose from the table.

But Tilly was so obviously sulky that the tense could not let her escape him thus.

He cried: "For G.o.d's sake, Tilly, stand still! What on earth have you got on your back?"

Tilly came from up-country and her thoughts leapt fearfully to scorpions and tarantulas. Affrighted, she tried to peer over her shoulder, and gave a preliminary shriek. "Gracious!--whatever is it?"

"Hold on!" He approached her with the tongs; the next moment to e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.e: "Begad, it's not a growth, it's a bustle!" and as he spoke he tweaked the place where a bustle used to be worn.

Even Bob had to join in the ensuing boohoo, which went on and on till Laura thought the Uncle would fall down in a fit. Then for the third time he invited those present to join him in summoning the cats, murmured something about "humping his bluey", and went out into the hall, where they heard him swinging Thumbby "round the world".

It was all the Aunt could do to mollify Tilly, who was enraged to the point of tears. "I've never worn a bustle in my life! Uncle's a perfect FOOL! I've never met such a fool as he is!"

Still boiling, she disappeared to nurse her ruffled temper in private; and she remained absent from the room for over half an hour. During this time Laura and Bob were alone together. But even less than before came of their intercourse: Bob, still smarting from his father's banter, was inclined to be stand-offish, as though afraid Laura might take liberties with him after having been made to look so small; Laura, rendered thoroughly unsure to begin with, by the jocular tone of the luncheon-table, had not recovered from the shock of hearing her parentage so bluffly disclosed. And since, at this time, her idea of the art of conversation was to make jerky little remarks which led nowhere, or to put still more jerky questions, Bob was soon stifling yawns, and not with the best success. He infected Laura; and there the two of them sat, doing their best to appear unconscious of the terrible spasms which, every few seconds, distorted their faces. At last Bob could stand it no longer and bolted from the room.

Laura was alone, and seemed to be forgotten The minutes ticked by, and no one came--or no one but a little grey kitten, which arrived as if from nowhere, with a hop and a skip. She coaxed the creature to her lap, where it joined head to tail and went to sleep. And there she sat, in the gloomy, overfilled drawing-room, and stroked the kitten, which neither cracked stupid jokes nor required her to strain her wits to make conversation.

When at length Tilly came back, she expressed a rather acid surprise at Bob's absence, and went to look for him; Laura heard them whispering and laughing in the pa.s.sage. On their return to the drawing-room it had been decided that the three of them should go for a walk. As the sky was overcast and the girls had no umbrellas, Bob carried a big one belonging to the Uncle. Tilly called this a "family umbrella"; and the jokes that were extracted from the pair of words lasted the walkers on the whole of their outward way; lasted so long that Laura, who was speedily finished with her contribution, grew quite stupefied with listening to the other two.

Collins Street was now as empty as a bush road. The young people went into Bourke Street, where, for want of something better to do, they entered the Eastern Market and strolled about inside. The noise that rose from the livestock, on ground floor and upper storey, was ear-splitting: pigs grunted; c.o.c.ks crowed, turkeys gobbled, parrots shrieked; while rough human voices echoed and re-echoed under the lofty roof. There was a smell, too, an extraordinary smell, composed of all the individual smells of all these living things: of fruit and vegetables, fresh and decayed; of flowers, and b.u.t.ter, and grain; of meat, and fish, and strong cheeses; of sawdust sprinkled with water, and freshly wet pavements--one great complicated smell, the piquancy of which made Laura sniff like a spaniel. But after a very few minutes Tilly, whose temper was still short, called it a "vile stink" and clapped her handkerchief to her nose, and so they hurried out, past many enticing little side booths hidden in dark corners on the ground floor, such as a woman without legs, a double-headed calf, and the like.

Outside it had begun to rain; they turned into a Waxworks Exhibition.

This was a poor show, and they were merely killing time when the announcement caught their eye that a certain room was open to "Married People Only". The quips and jokes this gave rise to again were as unending as those about the umbrella; and Laura grew so tired of them, and of pretending to find them funny, that her temper also began to give way; and she eased her feelings by making the nippy mental note on her companions, that jokes were evidently "in the blood".

When they emerged, it was time for the girls to return to school. They took a hansom, Bob accompanying them. As they drove, Laura sitting sandwiched between the other two, it came over her with a rush what a miserable failure the day had been. A minute before, her spirits had given a faint flicker, for Bob had laid his arm along the back of the seat. Then she saw that he had done this just to pull at the little curls that grew on Tilly's neck. She was glad when the cab drew up, when Tilly ostentatiously took the fat half-crown from her purse, and Bob left them at the gate with a: "Well, so long, ladies!"

The boarders spent the evening in sewing garments for charity. Laura had been at work for weeks on a coa.r.s.e, red flannel petticoat, and as a rule was under constant reprimand for her idleness. On this night, having separated herself from Tilly, she sat down beside a girl with a very long plait of hair and small, narrow eyes, who went by the name of "c.h.i.n.ky". c.h.i.n.ky was always making up to her, and could be relied on to cover her silence. Laura sewed away, with bent head and pursed lips, and was so engrossed that the sole rebuke she incurred had to do with her diligence.

Miss Chapman exclaimed in horror at her stiffly outstretched arm.

"How CAN you be so vulgar, Laura? To sew with a thread as long as that!"

XV.

For days Laura avoided even thinking of this unlucky visit. Privately, she informed herself that Tilly's wealthy relations were a "rude, stupid lot"; and, stuffing her fingers in her ears, memorised pages with a dispatch that deadened thought.

When, however, the first smart had pa.s.sed and she was able to go back on what had happened, a soreness at her own failure was the abiding result: and this, though Tilly mercifully spared her the "dull as ditchwater", that was Bob's final verdict.--But the fact that the invitation was not repeated told Laura enough.

Her hurt was not relieved by the knowledge that she had done nothing to deserve it. For she had never asked for Bob's notice or admiration, had never thought of him but as a handsome cousin of Tilly's who sat in a distant pew at St Stephen's-on-the-Hill; and the circ.u.mstance that, because he had singled her out approvingly, she was expected to worm herself into his favour, seemed to her of a monstrous injustice. But, all the same, had she possessed the power to captivate him, she would cheerfully have put her pride in her pocket. For, having once seen him close at hand, she knew how desirable he was. Having been the object of glances from those liquid eyes, of smiles from those blanched-almond teeth, she found it hard to dismiss them from her mind. How the other girls would have boasted of it, had they been chosen by such a one as Bob!--they who, for the most part, were satisfied with blotchy-faced, red-handed youths, whose lean wrists dangled from their retreating sleeves. But then, too, they would have known how to keep him. Oh, those lucky other girls!

"I say, c.h.i.n.ky, what do you do when a boy's gone on you?"

She would have shrunk from putting an open question of this kind to her intimates; but c.h.i.n.ky, could be trusted. For she garnered the few words Laura vouchsafed her, as gratefully as Lazarus his crumbs; and a mark of confidence, such as this, would sustain her for days.

But she had no information to give.

"Me? ... why, nothing. Boys are dirty, horrid, conceited creatures."

In her heart Laura was at one with this judgment; but it was not to the point.

"Yes, but s'pose one was awfully sweet on you and you rather liked him?"

"Catch me! If one came bothering round me, I'd do this" and she set her ten outstretched fingers to her nose and waggled them.

And yet c.h.i.n.ky was rather pretty, in her way.

Maria Morell, cautiously tapped, threw back her head and roared with laughter.

"Bless its little heart! Does it want to know?--say, Laura, who's your mash?"

"No one," answered Laura stoutly. "I only asked. For I guess you KNOW, Maria."

"By gosh, you bet I do!" cried Maria, italicising the words in her vehemence. "Well, look here, Kiddy, if a chap's sweet on me I let him be sweet, my dear, and that's all--till he's run to barley-sugar. What I don't let him savvy is, whether I care a twopenny d.a.m.n for him. Soon as you do that, it's all up. Just let him hang round, and throw sheep's-eyes, till he's as soft as a jellyfish, and when he's right down ripe, roaring mad, go off and pretend to do a mash with some one else. That's the way to glue him, chicken."

"But you don't have anything of him that way," objected Laura.

Maria laughed herself red in the face. "What'n earth more d'you want?

Why, he'll pester you with letters, world without end, and look as black as your shoe if you so much as wink at another boy. As for a kiss, if he gets a chance of one he'll take it you can bet your bottom dollar on that."

"But you never get to know him!"

"Oh, hang it, Laura, but you ARE rich! What d'you think one has a boy for, I'd like to know. To parlezvous about old Shepherd's sermons? You loony, it's only for getting lollies, and letters, and the whole dashed fun of the thing. If you go about too much with one, you soon have to fake an interest in his rotten old affairs. Or else just hold your tongue and let him blow. And that's dull work. D'you think it ever comes up a fellow's back to talk to you about your new Sunday hat! If it does, you can teach your grandmother to suck eggs."

But, despite this wisdom, Laura could not determine how Maria would have acted had she stood in her shoes.

And then, too, the elder girl had said nothing about another side of the question, had not touched on the sighs and simpers, the winged glances, and drooped, provocative lids--all the thousand and one fooleries, in short, which Laura saw her and others employ. There was a regular machinery of invitation and encouragement to be set in motion: for, before it was safe to ignore a wooer and let him dangle, as Maria advised, you had first to make quite sure he wished to nibble your bait.--And it was just in this elementary science that Laura broke down.

Looking round her, she saw mainly experts. To take the example nearest at hand: there was Monsieur Legros, the French master; well, Maria could twist him round her little finger. She only needed to pout her thick, red lips, or to give a coquettish twist to her plump figure, or to ogle him with her fine, bold, blue eyes, and the difficult questions in the lesson were sure to pa.s.s her by.--Once she had even got ten extra marks added to an examination paper, in this easy fashion.

Whereas, did she, Laura, try to imitate Maria, venture to pout or to smirk, it was ten to one she would be rebuked for impertinence. No, she got on best with the women-teachers, to whom red lips and a full bust meant nothing; while the most elderly masters could not be relied on to be wholly impartial, where a pair of magnificent eyes was concerned.

Even Mr. Strachey, the unapproachable, had been known, on running full tilt into a pretty girl's arms in an unlit pa.s.sage, to be laughingly confused.

Laura was not, of course, the sole outsider in these things; sprinkled through the College were various others, older, too, than she, who by reason of demureness of temperament, or immersion in their work, stood aloof. But they were lost in the majority, and, as it chanced, none of them belonged to Laura's circle. Except c.h.i.n.ky--and c.h.i.n.ky did not count. So, half-fascinated, half-repelled, Laura set to studying her friends with renewed zeal. She could not help admiring their proficiency in the art of pleasing, even though she felt a little abashed by the open pride they took in their growing charms. There was Bertha, for instance, Bertha who had one of the nicest minds of them all; and yet how frankly gratified she was, by the visible rounding of her arms and the curving of her bust. She spoke of it to Laura with a kind of awe; and her voice seemed to give hints of a coming mystery.

Tilly, on the other hand, lived to reduce her waist-measure: she was always sucking at lemons, and she put up with the pains of indigestion as well as a red tip to her nose; for no success in school meant as much to Tilly as the fact that she had managed to compress herself a further quarter of an inch, no praise on the part of her teachers equalled the compliments this earned her from dressmaker and tailor. As for Inez, who had not only a pretty face but was graceful and slender-limbed as a greyhound, Inez no longer needed to worry over artificial charms, or to dwell self-consciously on her development; serious admirers were not lacking, and with one of these, a young man some eight years older than herself, she had had for the past three months a sort of understanding. For her, as for so many others, the time she had still to spend at school was as purgatory before paradise.

To top all, one of the day-scholars in Laura's cla.s.s was actually engaged to be married; and in no boy-and-girl fashion, but to a doctor who lived and practised in Emerald Hill: he might sometimes be seen, from a peephole under the stairs, waiting to escort her home from school. This fiancee was looked up to by the cla.s.s with tremendous reverence, as one set apart, oiled and anointed. You really could not treat her as a comrade her, who had reached the goal. For this WAS the goal; and the thoughts of all were fixed, with an intentness that varied only in degree, on the great consummation which, as planned in these young minds, should come to pa.s.s without fail directly the college-doors closed behind them.--And here again Laura was a heretic.

For she could not contemplate the future that was to be hers when she had finished her education, but with a feeling of awe: it was still so distant as to be one dense blue haze; it was so vast, that thinking of it took your breath away: there was room in it for the most wonderful miracles that had ever happened; it might contain anything--from golden slippers to a Jacob's ladder, by means of which you would scale the skies; and with these marvellous perhapses awaiting you, it was impossible to limit your hopes to one single event, which, though it saved you from derision, would put an end, for ever, to all possible, exciting contingencies.

These thoughts came and went. In the meantime, despite her ape-like study of her companions, she remained where the other s.e.x was concerned a disheartening failure. A further incident drove this home anew.

One Sat.u.r.day afternoon, those boarders who had not been invited out were taken to see a cricket-match. They were a mere handful, eight or nine at most, and Miss Snodgra.s.s alone was in charge. All her friends [P.154] being away that day, Laura had to bring up the rear with the governess and one of the little girls. Though their walk led them through pleasant parks, she was glad when it was over; for she did not enjoy Miss Snodgra.s.s's company. She was no match for this crisply sarcastic governess, and had to be the whole time on her guard. For Miss Snodgra.s.s was not only a great talker, but had also a very inquiring mind, and seemed always trying to ferret out just those things you did not care to tell--such as the size of your home, or the social position you occupied in the township where you lived.