‘That is another set of family feelings,’ said Miss Mitford.
There was silence.
‘We know things we should not know, if we had not had you, Mitta,’ said Isabel.
‘That is the purpose of my being with you.’
‘I meant things apart from lessons.’
‘Well, you know them sooner,’ said Miss Mitford.
Chapter 4
‘We have not tidied the nursery,’ said Honor, in a nonchalant tone to the new governess. ‘Hatton told us to do it, but we took no notice.’
‘Then you had better do it now. The room is not in a suitable state for lessons.’
The pupils exchanged a glance over this unforeseen attitude.
‘Why don’t you do it?’ said Gavin, in a just audible tone.
‘I did not make the room untidy.’
Honor kicked some toys towards a cupboard, and Gavin idly seconded her. Both had an air of putting no value on the objects that had engaged them.
‘Why were you playing with the toys, if you do not care about them?’ said Miss Pilbeam.
‘We didn’t say we didn’t,’ said Gavin.
‘We have nothing else to play with,’ said Honor.
‘Will she give us some more?’ said Gavin, with a nudge to his sister.
‘I am here to help you to work, not to play. Why do you use your feet instead of your hands?’
Miss Pilbeam was a large, pale woman of twenty-seven, with rather solid features, small, honest eyes, large, white hands, a sober, reliable expression, and a smile that seemed a deliberate adaptation of her face. Her qualification for teaching was her being presumed to know more than young children, and she was required to produce no others.
‘That will do for a summary clearance,’ said Honor, drawing Miss Pilbeam’s eyes.
‘Yes, it will do,’ said Gavin.
‘Now come and show me if you can use your hands as well,’ said Miss Pilbeam, putting a smile on her features and some copybooks on the table.
‘We don’t begin with writing,’ said Honor.
‘What do you usually do first?’
‘Spelling or history or French or sums. That is all we learn, except a little Latin,’ said Honor, in an easy tone that forestalled a possibly slight opinion of these studies.
‘Well, we will begin with writing today.’
‘Why should it be different?’ said Gavin.
‘Because I wish it to be.’
‘Is that a reason?’
‘You will have to learn that it is.’
Honor thrust her pen into the ink so sharply that it spluttered.
‘The poor, old cloth!’ she said, indicating another slight opinion.
‘It is a pretty cloth. It is a pity you have made it so dirty.’
Honor took up a corner of it and wiped her pen, in further suggestion of her attitude.
‘It is really to protect the table,’ she said.
‘Well, it must save it a good deal,’ said Miss Pilbeam.
Honor laughed.
‘Haven’t you a pen-wiper?’ said the governess.
‘No.’
‘A thing to wipe pens?’ said Gavin.
‘Of course,’ said his sister.
‘I will make you one,’ said Miss Pilbeam.
‘Oh, you don’t have to buy them,’ said Gavin.
‘They have them in shops, but I can make you one quite well.’
‘Why don’t you buy one?’ said Gavin in a rough tone.
‘Because it is not necessary.’
‘We always buy things,’ said Honor.
‘I will teach you how to make some.’
‘What will you teach us to make?’
‘Pen wipers and needle-cases and blotters and several other things.’
‘Is she supposed to teach us that?’ said Gavin, aside to his sister.
‘I am not obliged to,’ said Miss Pilbeam, ‘but perhaps you would like to learn.’
‘I don’t want to learn things I don’t have to,’ said Honor.
‘Would she be allowed to teach us them in lesson-time?’ said Gavin, in another aside.
‘I should not let you do it then,’ said Miss Pilbeam making the necessary adjustment. ‘We will remember at some other time.’
‘Do you know how to make a bow and arrow?’
‘Yes, I can teach you that.’
‘I only asked if you knew.’
‘A bow and arrows,’ said Honor.
‘Would you like to make them too?’ said Miss Pilbeam.
‘Yes, I think I should.’
‘Then we will make some one day after lessons.’
‘Don’t you go home then?’ said Gavin.
‘Yes, as a rule. But sometimes I can stay with you for a little while.’
‘Do you have to?’
‘No, but sometimes you might like me to.’
Honor and Gavin looked at each other, and broke into laughter at the assumption of welcome.
‘You can go on with your writing now. We shall not talk so much another day.’
‘It is you who are talking,’ said Gavin.
‘Well, I must stop now.’
‘Are you going to stay today?’
‘No. I must go home this morning. My father wants to see me.’
‘Oh, has she got a home?’ said Gavin, to his sister, turning his thumb towards Miss Pilbeam.
‘Yes,’ said the latter, smiling. ‘Where should I live, if I had not?’
‘You might live in the streets.’
‘Do you know many people who do that?’
‘No, but we don’t really know you.’
‘Do you have to do what your father tells you?’ said Honor.
‘I like to when I can. So do you, I suppose.’
‘Why does he want to see you?’
‘He will like to know how I have got on.’
‘With us, do you mean?’ said Honor, surprised at this question’s having any interest outside.
‘Yes, and that reminds me that we are not progressing very fast. Let me see your copies.’
Honor slapped her book down in front of Miss Pilbeam.
‘It is not very good, and you have smudged it.’
‘It is as good as I care to do it,’ said Honor, leaning back.
‘Haven’t you got to see mine?’ said Gavin, thrusting it forward.
‘Yes, I want to see yours too. This is not good either. I think you can both do better.’
‘We might with an effort,’ said Honor.
‘Then you must make the effort in future. Now we will go on to history.’
‘Do you want ordinary string for a bow and arrow?’ said Gavin.
‘No, a special kind. We might have to buy that. How much pocket money do you have?’
‘Oh, about threepence a week,’ said Honor, casting a vagueness over the insignificance of the sum.
‘That is what we have,’ said her brother.
‘You can do a good deal with threepence a week,’ said Miss Pilbeam.
‘Did you have as much when you were a child?’ said Gavin.
‘Yes, that is what I used to have.’
‘Could your father afford to give it to you?’
‘Yes he used to manage that.’
‘Then why do you have to be a governess?’
‘Well, I want more than that now.’
‘How much do you have?’ said Honor, with her eyes and her hands engaged with her pen, and her voice sounding as if it barely detached itself.
‘You know you should not ask that question.’
‘You asked us how much we had.’
‘That is quite different. Get out your history books.’
‘We only have one book. Nevill will have to share it too.’
‘Is that your little brother? He looks such a dear little boy.’
‘He isn’t,’ said Gavin. ‘He keeps doing the same thing.’
‘Well, I shall judge for myself. Now I will read you a chapter and ask you questions afterwards.’
Honor rose and threw herself on the sofa.
‘You must not sit there, Honor. Come back to your place.’
‘I always do when I am being read to.’