Its my first day here and already I cant wait to get away. Oh, the bunks are clean and the grub is good, but I dont know if I like the company of girls very much. These girls here, youd think theyd be a bunch of prim pampered little princesses but, no, they aint, theyre like any bunch of thirty or so cats thrown in to a sack and shaken up good. Theyre mean in ways that boys never even thought of being. I am all at sea about this becoming a lady business, too, and I dont know if Im ever going to get any better at it. I wish with all my heart that they would just give me back my money and let me go back to you.
I know I am whining and I am sorry, but all I really want to do is bury my face in your neck and whimper and cry and have you pat my back and say everythings all right, Jacky, in your lovely deep voice, and then I would forget about everything else and be happy. I loved it when I heard you say my name. I miss it more than you could know, a simple thing like that. I loved your letter, too, Jaimy, I did and I live only in hopes of getting another one soon.
Please keep me in your thoughts and speak kindly of me to others if you can, especially your mum and dad. Give my regards to the Brotherhood and all the other seamen on the Dolphin. Liam especially. Tell that Davy to be good.
I regret to report that your ring is no longer in my ear as befits a proper sailor, it being forcibly removed by the school's Mistress and an evil one she is, I can tell you. The ring now is on a string around my neck and it rests against my breast, close to my heart. Know, Jaimy, that every night I go to sleep clutching it in my fist and thinking only of you. I will pray for your health and safety, and worry about you constantly, not being there to watch your back myself and keep you from charging pirates and challenging people to duels and otherwise risking your brave foolish neck, not that I was able to stop you before but at least I was there.
I know. I am a mess and I am making a fine mess of this paper with my tears running off the end of my nose and blurring the ink, but I cant help it. I will write again in a few days.
Oh, Jaimy, I just wish we were back in our lovely hammock on the dear Dolphin and I was just your secret girl again, I do.
Yours forever,
Jacky
The chimes calling us to supper ring out as I am carefully blotting my letter. I fold it and put it up my sleeve as I have neither pocket nor purse. I wipe my nose and eyes, and hoping I don't look a total mess, I go and join Amy in the dining room.
The grace is given, not by me this time, thank God, but by a bloke at the head table, sitting next to Mistress. Supper is, as Amy said, a much smaller affair than dinner, but it is still quite good. We have a pie made from some sort of bird with vegetables and gravy all in it. I'm getting better with the tools and don't have to watch Amy so closely this time. These biscuits are sinfully good.
"So where do you come from, Miss?" says I to break the silence. "Do you have a family? A mum and dad, like, brothers or sisters?"
I know she still does not quite know what to make of me. "Yes," she replies, "we have a farm in Quincy. I have a brother and his name is Randall. He attends the college across the river."
"Ah," I says, "a poor farm girl with a poor scholar for a brother. No wonder the little princesses won't have nothing to do with you. And where's this Quincy, then?"
"It is to the south. About fifteen miles."
"Ah," I say, and let the talk peter out. She is sure a gloomy one, she is.
I notice that the teachers don't come to this meal, just Mistress and that cove what said the grace and what's got on a white collar like two square wings on the throat of his black coat. All the rest of his clothes is black, too, but that ain't nothin' new around here. The other teachers prolly live close by and only take the noon dinner with us, I figures, and takes breakfast and supper with their own families.
"Who's he?" I ask, pointin' him out with my fork.
She glances over and says, "That is the Very Reverend Richard Mather. He is our Spiritual Advisor. He has the church next door. He is also a trustee and member of the board of this school. We go over there for services on Sunday morning and prayer meeting on Wednesday night. He takes his suppers here. He has no wife."
I see that one of the girls is eating with them, Mistress Pimm and the Reverend sitting side by side and the girl sitting across from them, her back toward us. That selfsame back is being held rigidly straight and it does not seem to be enjoying itself, overmuch.
"That girl there?" I ask, nodding toward the head table. Amy looks over.
"That is Dolley Frazier. Each night, one of us is invited to dine with them. It is not supposed to be a pleasure. It is a test—a test of your manners, comportment, knowledge of etiquette, demeanor, and spiritual depth. And you get no warning as to when it is your turn. You will be expected to rise to the occasion."
"Ah." I look over at the unlucky girl. I know she wants desperately to be back with her mates and I note how she holds her shoulders and feet and elbows 'cause I know it'll be my turn over there someday soon.
After supper, lamps are lit in the tea room and we are left to ourselves again. Clarissa and her crew chatter and giggle, but Amy don't do nothin' but read and so I study my French book till the words begin to slide off the page and my head starts in to noddin'.
I feel myself fallin' over to one side and Amy says, "It must have been a long day for you," and I snap my head up with a jerk and weaves back and forth and says, "Right. But, I'm all right. What are you reading?"
"The Federalist," says Amy. "It is political matter."
"Myself, I like the novels," I says. "I just finished Moll Flanders and Robinson Crusoe and some of Captain Cook's writings about his voyages and—"
"Wherever did you get those books?" she asks, and seems to be in genuine wonder.
"Don't you have those books here?" I don't want to tell her that I sort of borrowed those books from the midshipmen's berth. "How 'bout Poor Nell, A Girl of the Streets? And A General History of the Most Notorious Pyrates?"
Her eyes widen. "No. We have no such books here."
"Well, don't worry," I says, all cheerful. "I saw a bookseller's on the way here today, so we'll get some soon and we'll curl up with 'em right here."
I close my French book and put my head back against the soft leather of the chair. I close my eyes and ask, "What do we do tomorrow?"
"Equestrian in the morning. All morning," she says. "Art, Penmanship, Arithmetic, and Music in the afternoon."
Music!
"But what's this 'questrian?" I asks.
"Horses," says Amy. "The riding and management thereof."
I shudder and turn back to my studies.
At the ringing of a handbell, we march back to the dormitory and there is a great rush for the stalls in the privy to wash up and change. Each girl takes her bedclothes from a chest of drawers next to her bed and I pull mine out of my sea chest and wait till there is a free washroom and then go in and latch the door and pour some water from the pitcher into the basin. There is a piece of soap in a little dish. I doff my clothes and wash and dry and then get into my own gown and cap. I let the water out of the basin and notice that it runs out the bottom through a pipe that goes through the wall. Isn't this just the most amazing thing, I thinks. Prolly goes out into the garden, or something.
I warily poke my head out of the stall, sure that Clarissa and her bunch ain't layin' for me with somethin' nasty planned, like soaking me down with water or holding me down and beating me, but they don't. They're off chattering in a circle around Clarissa and paying me no mind. Good.