Regiment of Women

he average of knowledge in their respective classes. She devoted certain afternoons in the week to coaching them, and was considered to be unusually successful in her method

n class was so genuine, her disappointment at a collapse so comically real, yet so devoid of contempt, so tinged with conviction that it was anybody's fault but the culprit's, that either attitude was an incentive to real effort. Like Clare, she did not suffer fo

well; she was frankly envious of Clare's circle of brilliant girls and as inevitably surrounded by inar

owever unconsciously, minds of a finer type, would not have been easy for Clare. She had grown very fond of Alwynne; but the sentiment was proprietary; she could derive no pleasure from her that was not personal, and, in its most literal sense, selfish. She was unmaternal to t

lacked completely her own dompteuse instinct, her craving for power; that she was as innocent of knowledge of her own charm as unwedded Eve; that her impulse to Clare was an impulse of th

she went her way: any one in whom Clare was interested must needs attract her: so she took pains to become intimate with Clare's adorers, from a very real sympathy with their appreciation of Clare, whom she no more grudged to them than a priestess would grudge the unveiling of her goddess to the initiate. She received their confidences, learned their secrets, fanned the flame of their enthusiasms. Too lately a

her initial distrust over, found this useful. She could afford to be moody, erratic, whimsical; to be extravagant in her praises and reproofs; to deteriorate, at times, into a caricature of

aught Clare, conscious, that there must be effort-constant, straining effort at cultivation of all her alluring qualities, at concealment of all in her that could repulse-effort that all appearances of complete success must never allow her to relax. She knew well the evanescent character of a schoolgirl's affection; so we

ustain it required their physical nearness. But every new year fi

d. Here was no question of a fleeting devotion that must end as the schooldays ended. Here was love for Clare at last, a widow's cruse to last her for all time. Clare thanked the gods of her unbelief, and, relaxing all effort, s

pathy for the mutinies she relentlessly crushed. War, personal war, delighted her; she was a mistress of tactics, and the certainty of eventual victory gave zest to her campaigns. She did not realise that the strain upon her childish opponents was very great. The finer, the more sensitive the character, the more complete the eventual defeat, the more permanent its effects. Clare was pitiless after victory: not till then did she examine into the nature thus enslaved, seldom did she find it worth the trouble of the skirmish. In most cases she gave semi-liberty; enough of smiles to keep the children feverishly at work to please her (the average of achiev

s thirteen-nearly three years below the average of the class

roperty from Louise Denny's desk. Thereon must Alwynne, for a week or two, resign perforce her Lower Third literature classes to Clare, intent on her blue rose. Louise's compositions had been read-Clare and Alwynne spent a long evening over them, weighing, comparing, discussing. Clare could be exquisitely tender, could keep all-patient vigil over an unfolding mind, provided that the calyx concealed a rare enough blossom. Louise was encouraged, her shyness swept asid

e experiment-were refuted, and the class, already needing no spur, outdoing itself in its

at the upper end of the room. Beside the passage doorway, there was a smaller one, that led into the studio, and was never used by the children. Clare, however, would sometimes enter by it, but so seldom that they invariably forgot to keep watch. Clare enjoyed the oc

of opposites had decreed that the sedate Marion should be her bosom friend. They went up the school together, an incongruous, yet well-suited pair, for they were so unlike that there could be no rivalry. Marion was alternately amused and dazzled by the pyrotechnic Agatha. Agatha's respect for Marion's common sense was pleasantly tempered by a conviction of superior mental agility. Finally, they were united by their common devotion to their form-mistress. Whether it would have occurred to Marion, unprompted, to admire Miss Hartill, is uncertain. Her affections were domestic and calm. But adoration was in the air, and she had not sufficient originality to be unfashionable. She was caught, too, in Agatha's whirlwind emotions, and ended by worshipping Clare

hubbub Marion called

many

ders whom she had outstripped. She rapidly counted the le

n exc

even. I simply didn't understand

ll upon t

wo!" she cried triumphantly, and tu

he said last time that you thou

tes three words

as of the type whose impe

y on The Dark Tower. It's the beastliest yet. The Ancient Ma

ke notes. I've been years at it. Fortunately she said we needn't learn it-Louise and I-wi

e!" Louise loo

captain opened h

ather wa

le Jewes

urmured. She di

the subject with he

understan

tammered

say it aloud, I think I do. It

ise-book. Louise, shy and desperate, strove silently with her neighbours, who, curious, held he

left in ignorance. That does not matter, for, as we read, the inner meaning of the terrible poem kills all curiosity. Shuddering we close the book, and pray to God that Childe Roland's journey may never be ours; that for our adventurous souls, knight-erranting through this queer life, there may never come a choice of ways, a turning from the pleasant high-

o right!" she gasped. Her shyness had

ach, affected to search for her place. Lo

dly grip. A hush fell on the voluble group and

felt the child regaining comparative calm, when, giving her a gentle push towards her place, she walked slowly to the head of the table and seated herself. The class watched her furtively. It was quite aware that all rules of decorum had been transgressed-that pains and pe

gan bl

d better than that. You are not doing

s," said Agat

's a pity you didn't understand what you read-but an

g up her he

it all right. I th

Read me

ow

tain

y, therefrom; but it had never been customary for a pupil to read her own work aloud. Agatha had the pioneer spirit-but she was no fool.

Hartill-

y n

e ever

e wa

er fear of ridicule outwe

ll this tosh-I mean all this stuff I wrote. It's a w

e wa

ll. Honestly! And we never have.

e wa

ly. The schoolgirl shyness that

t's not fair to have one's stuff-to be lau

breathless, all

orne by the utter silence, gave way, and dropping her eyes to her exercise, fluttering its pages in

ugh the cluste

up, p

s over. She r

forced to render it ridiculous. She read a couple of pages in hurried jerks, stumbling over the illegibilities of her own handwriting, baulked by Clare's interpolations. She heard her own voice, high-pitched and out of control, perverting her meaning, felt the laden sentences breaking up into chaos on her lips. In her flurry

please,"

even Marion was laughing.... "Turned round

slo

She stopped suddenly,

n, Ag

y. "To the high road where the cripple-where the cripple--

render. Cl

o say on the same subject. I dare say you'll find, Agatha, that you were almost as unfair to her essay, as you

bodied in it, though tinged with morbidity, striking and matured. Clare did it more than justice. Her beautiful voice made music of the crude sentences, revealed, embellished, glo

ke the lit

he said, as if su

" Clare wa

red ink and initialled

work, Louise. N

shy and glow

ll mine, Miss Ha

d at her, h

? Your han

ve made it different. I h

d a quizzic

misinter

much in earnest

old-like the things in the Venetian room. You know. The meaning didn't matter. But I did mean something, not half so good, of course, only quite different. Hor

ce to impress arbitrarily her opinion of Louise's work upon the class. That Louise, impr

didn't underst

laugh was v

so stupid. It's only that

e girl in specta

u put in a different one to help it. A

would get at Louise's meaning in her own way. She skimmed a couple, Agath

and, too? Ah, I thought so. Begin, Mar

ose, fell and finished. Agatha continued, jarringly dram

mark

rless voice, that crept across the room like a

sooner was I

plain, after

to throw backw

d, 'twas gone; gr

lain to the h

nought else r

e of nearing doom, gay with the flippancy of despair. Louise was looking straight before her, vacant as a medium, her

parts-only to be convinced of folly. She knew all about Louise. Besides, she had heard the child read aloud before. Good, clean, intelligent d

far as ever f

across the haunted plain, gro

the waste land of the poem, she smelt the dank air, shrank from the clammy undergrowth, watched the bowed figure of the wandering knight,

noise was ever

ng like

it alive w

m was at her very feet, as the voi

the las

lung back; the voice ec

nd I knew the

slug-horn to

Roland to the D

oken, quavering into the pitiful treble of a frightened child. The bars melted under her touch, as dream things will, and she was stari

at I meant, Miss Hart

rosily alive, and quivering with eagerness,

Clare mechanically

f the imagination! She must tell Alwynne of the adventure-Alwynne, dreamer of dreams.... And Alwynne was interested in Louise; was coaching her.... Perhaps she was responsible ... had coached her in that very poem? She hoped not ... it would be interference.... She did not like interference. But no-that performance was entir

s chan

hockey captain to recit

edn't, Louise and I-because of a

cons

She looked at her questioningly, half

e lau

Miss Hartill. I

ch extra work h

e ref

ings when I go to lectures. And, of course,

homew

eaps of time a

led upon

ifth-what do y

opened i

and first in to-day's results. You hear what her extra work is. And s

it down

tty good,

lance app

d. Rather proud of my youngest pupil. For next time you will learn--" A

ing of books and desk-lids, a tangle of fragmentary remarks, and much trampling of boots on uncarpeted boards, as one after another followed her. Withi