Ivy Compton-Burnett - Two Worlds and Their Ways

“I went to school,” said Sir Roderick, simply.

“Oh, Roderick, why should people always be talking about you?” said Lesbia, shaking her head.

“There are surely reasons,” said Oliver.

“I thought she meant me,” said his father. “And I do not bear out her view. We do not all profit by the same thing.”

“That is true. That is one of the first of our problems,” said Lesbia, looking at the window. “I have even met cases in which I have actually advised that pupils should leave me. And people do not expect it, do not expect honest advice. I have found they do not. I do not know why they should not. To me there can be no reason.”

“I do like people to pay tribute to themselves,” said Oliver.

“Then you like your father to assume that our talk must refer to him?” said Lesbia, smiling.

“Yes, I do, but not so much. Anyone may think that people’s talk refers to him; everyone does think so. But not many people would refer to themselves as you did.”

“I hope a good many would in their hearts.”

“Yes, in their hearts. But I do not count that. Anyone might do anything there. And in their hearts they know better. They know they are imagining other people referring to them.”

“People say we should see ourselves as others see us,” said Juliet. “But it is better to tell them how to see us, and save the effort. Especially as they are looking forward to our making it.”

“Is this talk supposed to be clever?” said Maria.

“Why, yes, Maria, it is,” said her stepson. “Aunt Juliet is right. We must tell you how to see us.”

“Was your speech supposed to be polite, my pretty?” said Sir Roderick.

“I am so wearied by this quibbling with words that mean nothing, when there is a real problem hanging over us.”

“And what is that?”

“The children’s going to school,” said Maria, raising her eyes.

“Well, the term must begin sooner or later,” said Mr. Firebrace, “and bring its solution.”

“Then it will be their staying at home,” said Lesbia, in an amused tone, “as it will be too late to make the adjustments. But let us allow the subject a rest and come to it fresh later. Sleep on it, as they say,”

“Then you are not in form at the moment?” said her father. “Sleep would mean another day.”

“My children are going to school,” said Sir Roderick. “It is settled and the subject is closed. It tires and tries my wife, and that is enough.”

“So we must have another subject,” said Oliver. “How nice subjects are! I do appreciate them. And I did like to hear Father speaking like a man. I find there is so much pleasure in life.”

Sir Roderick rested his eyes on his son. He sometimes thought he was easily pleased, and had need to be, and almost felt he owed him gratitude.

“I hope you like to hear me speaking like a woman,” said Maria, “because I am going to do so. Could we manage without a subject and just talk of anything that comes into our heads?”

“Well, honestly, Maria, that is what we have been doing,” said Lesbia, raising her brows.

“You cannot be governesses for a generation and bear no signs,” said Mr. Firebrace. “We all carry our scars.”

“To be natural is known to be the rarest of all things,” said Oliver.

“We can be natural on different levels,” said Lesbia. “There may be no point where we meet.”

“I think our standard of naturalness is very high. And I agree that it is the greatest of all charms.”

“I think I am a natural person,” said Maria, in a tone that made no particular claim.

“So you are, my pretty. We should all bear witness to it,” said Sir Roderick.

“So we should,” said his son.

“Well, Maud — Esther — Verity — Gwendolen,” said Lesbia, taking the hands of her pupils in turn. “I hope your holiday has been a success and that the term will be so in its own way. They should supplement and support each other. This is Clemence Shelley, a new companion — a connection of mine, but we are to forget that during the term. The relationship is only a shadow, but a shadow is not always easy to elude. Can I leave her in your charge?”

“Yes, Miss Firebrace,” said the four girls, glancing at each other before they looked at the newcomer.

“Maud, you have the advantage in years and experience,” said Lesbia, uniting the hands of Maud and Clemence. “And — I think I may say it — the advantage in some other ways as well. Can I appoint you guardian-in-chief without misgiving? I have other claims on my time.”

Maud had a tall, thin figure, small, brown, honest eyes, average features that failed to result in average comeliness, and an air of following virtue, irrespective of current opinion.

“Yes, Miss Firebrace,” she said, in a tone that ranged Lesbia and herself on one side against the rest on the other.

The latter stood by without signs of competitive feeling or need to suppress them.

“Well, I will leave you to what is apparently silence. Thank you, Gwendolen,” said Lesbia, passing through the opened door and leaving her pupils to something that was different.

“Why did you come to a school kept by a relation?” said Esther, in a rapid monotone, tossing back a pale plait of hair from an oval face and speaking with a gleam in her opaque, blue eyes.

“There is no relationship, Esther. Did you not hear what Miss Firebrace said?” said Maud.

“I also heard her say there was one.”

“There is a sort of connection,” said Clemence. “No blood relationship.”

“Blood relationship!” said the third girl on a mocking note.

“It is quite an accepted phrase, Verity,” said Maud.

“Why talk about what does not exist?” said Esther.

“I am sure I do not know,” said Clemence. “It was quite unnecessary.”

“Why, is it anything to be ashamed of?” said Gwendolen, her round, happy face taking on a happier line.

“No, Miss Firebrace is simply the sister of my father’s first wife.”

“And are you any relation of his second?”

“Yes. I am her daughter.”

“And what about the relations of his third?” said Verity.

“They do not exist and neither does she. My mother is still alive.”

“There is no relationship at all. Miss Firebrace was right,” said Maud. “It is, as she said, the shadow of one.”

“She also said it was not easy to elude, and was also right,” said Verity, who had a noticeable face and head, long, fine hands, clothes too good for her age, and an air of being or feeling apart from the rest.

“Are you very clever, Clemence?” said Gwendolen, as if struck by something in Clemence’s replies.

“I daresay I am as clever as the rest of you.”

“Well, why did you come to a school kept by a relation, or by somebody who thinks she is one, and knows she is not?” said Esther, in one rapid breath.

“Well, we knew about the school. We had not heard of any other.”

“On that basis none of us could be educated,” said Gwendolen. “We have no relations who keep them. I wonder how people do hear of schools. I have no idea how we knew of this.”

“Naturally people would know more about a school kept by a connection,” said Maud. “And would be more likely to go to it. And Miss Firebrace said the matter was to be forgotten during the term.”

“Then why did she remember it? And why do you?” said Esther. “Why put it into our heads, just to give us the trouble of getting it out again?”

“You do not seem to be taking the trouble,” said Clemence, affording some amusement to Verity and Gwendolen.

“A spurious connection seems to make more confusion than a real one.”