Part 56 (2/2)

The next day she travelled with her mother from the north to the south, and during the whole long journey there was no break in the unruffled calm of her demeanour. Her mother wondered at her, and was irritated, and fussed about the luggage, and fumed about trains she feared to miss; but Beth kept calm. She sat in her corner of the carriage looking out of the window, and the world was a varied landscape, to every beauty of which she was keenly alive, yet she gave no expression to her enthusiasm, nor to the discomfort she suffered from the August sun, which streamed in on her through the blindless window, burning her face for hours, nor to her hunger and fatigue; and when at last they came to the great house by the river, and her mother, having handed her over to Miss Clifford, the lady princ.i.p.al, said, somewhat tearfully, ”Good-bye, Beth! I hope you will be happy here. But be a good girl.” Beth answered, ”Thank you. I shall try, mamma,” and kissed her as coolly as if it were her usual good-night.

”We do not often have young ladies part from their mothers so placidly,” Miss Clifford commented.

”I suppose not,” Mrs. Caldwell said, sighing.

Beth felt that she was behaving horridly. There was a lump in her throat, and she would liked to have shown more feeling, but she could not. Now, when she would have laid aside the mask of calmness which she had voluntarily a.s.sumed, she found herself forced to wear it.

Falsifications of our better selves are easily entered upon, but hard to shake off. They are evil things that lurk about us, ready but powerless to come till we call them; but, having been called, they hold us in their grip, and their power upon us to compel us becomes greater than ours upon them.

Mrs. Caldwell felt sore at heart when she had gone, and Beth was not less sore. Each had been a failure in her relation to the other. Mrs.

Caldwell blamed Beth, and Beth, in her own mind, did not defend herself. She forbore to judge.

CHAPTER x.x.x

St. Catherine's Mansion, the Royal Service School for Officers'

Daughters, had not been built for the purpose, but bought, otherwise it would have been as ugly to look at as it was dreary to live in. As it was, however, the house was beautiful, and so also were the grounds about it, and the views of the river, the bridge with its many arches, and the grey town climbing up from it to the height above.

Beth was still standing at the top of the steps under the great portico, where her mother had left her, contemplating the river, which was the first that had flowed into her experience.

”Come, come, my dear, come in!” some one behind her exclaimed impatiently. ”You're not allowed to stand there.”

Beth turned and saw a thin, dry, middle-aged woman, with keen dark eyes and a sharp manner, standing in the doorway behind her, with a gentler-looking lady, who said, ”It is a new girl, Miss Bey. I expect she is all bewildered.”

”No, I am not at all bewildered, thank you,” Beth answered in her easy way. As she spoke she saw two grown-up girls in the hall exchange glances and smile, and wondered what unusual thing she had done.

”Then you had better come at once,” Miss Bey rejoined drily, ”and let me see what you can do. Please to remember in future that the girls are not allowed to come to this door.”

She led the way as she spoke, and Beth followed her across the hall, up a broad flight of steps opposite the entrance, down a wide corridor to the right, and then to the right again, into a narrow cla.s.s-room, and through that again into another inner room.

”These are the fifth and sixth rooms,” Miss Bey remarked,--”fifth and sixth cla.s.ses.”

They were furnished with long bare tables, forms, hard wooden chairs, a cupboard, and a set of pigeon-holes. Miss Bey sat down at the end of the table in the ”sixth,” with her back to the window, and made Beth sit on her left. There were some books, a large slate, a slate pencil, and damp sponge on the table.

”What arithmetic have you done?” Miss Bey began.

”I've scrambled through the first four rules,” Beth answered.

”Set yourself a sum in each, and do it,” Miss Bey said sharply, taking a piece of knitting from a bag she held on her arm, and beginning to knit in a determined manner, as if she were working against time.

Beth took up the slate and pencil, and began; but the sharp click-click of the needles worried her, and her brain was so busy studying Miss Bey she could not concentrate her mind upon the sums.

Miss Bey waited without a word, but Beth was conscious of her keen eyes fixed upon her from time to time, and knew what she meant.

”I'm hurrying all I can,” she said at last.

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