There was something so intense, so urgent and compelling about the child, that the officer gave in, and Jane was supplied with a clean dress and apron, against all the rules. She rushed to the washroom and washed her face and hands, brushed her hair until her curls shone, then flew downstairs to join the other children.
The officer plodded downstairs and told her colleagues of the extraordinary scene. They agreed that the child was mad, but one, with a snigger, said, “She may be right. Everyone says Jane’s father was a high-born gentleman. Well, there’s a fancy-lookin’ gent gone in Master’s office. We don’t know what for.” And she rubbed the side of her nose suggestively.
The girls filed into the hall and sat in rows, the youngest at the front, and the oldest at the back. Jane sat in the fifth row, her eyes fixed on the door where she knew her daddy would enter. She was burning with expectation.
The door opened and Sir Ian walked in, followed by the Master. Her heart stopped beating again. Yes, it was him, the same grave yet kindly face, the same smooth grey hair, and the same deep-set eyes with a smile at the corners. She sat up straight and tall. She was taller than the other girls anyway, but she increased her height by her posture. Her eyes were aflame with love, her mouth was slightly open, her teeth gleamed white as she smiled.
Sir Ian spoke to the children from the pulpit. He could see right down the long hall, with the massed young faces staring up at him. Most of the faces looked glum and unresponsive, and it is always difficult to address an audience from whom the speaker feels no wave of sympathy. He had a joyful message to impart; he had hoped for a joyful response. But most of the girls looked straight ahead, no emotion registering on their features. However, there was one little girl, sitting in the middle near the front, who looked really animated. Sir Ian therefore did what many public speakers do; he fixed his attention on one face in the audience and spoke to that person alone. He spoke of the coming summer and how hot London became at that time of year. He said: “I am going to take you away in the summer.”
The little girl stifled a gasp, her eyes alight.
He spoke of the countryside and the seaside, and said: “I am going to take you to a beautiful place by the sea.” The little girl could scarcely contain her emotion as he continued: “You will be able to paddle and swim, and build sandcastles and collect shells.”
The little girl in the fifth row was now breathing fast, alternately clenching and stretching her fingers.
Sir Ian said, “We will do all this when the summer comes.”
The little girl gave a sigh of delight as he stepped down from the pulpit. He felt pleased with himself. Overall, it had been a good address, and a good response.
The Master had also seen Jane’s reaction and made a silent note to reprimand her about exhibitionism. He had not yet heard from his subordinate officers about the clean dress and apron.
The girls stood up to leave the hall. One by one they filed past the Master and Sir Ian. It was at this point that Jane lost all control of herself. As she passed, she rushed out of line and flung her arms around Sir Ian’s waist, crying, “Thank you, Daddy, thank you, thank you,” then she burst into tears, sobbing into his waistcoat.
He was surprised by this, and not a little touched. He ruffled her pretty hair and murmured, “There, there, my child. Don’t take on so. You’ll go to the seaside, and have a lovely time.”
The Master tried to apologise and pull Jane away, but Sir Ian restrained him, saying that it was to the child’s credit that she showed so much gratitude. He patted her hair and shoulders and took out a fine lawn handkerchief to wipe her eyes.
“There, now, dry your eyes. You can’t go spoiling your pretty little face with tears. Let’s see you smile. That’s better.”
The girls continued to file past, but Jane still clung to him. The Master was standing beside them, seething with fury. After all the girls had left the hall, Sir Ian finally disentangled Jane’s arms from around him. “There now, little one,” he said, “off you run. Join your playmates. And I promise you will go to the seaside in the summer time.”
Jane reached up and touched his face, and breathed the words: “Oh Daddy, I love you, Daddy, I love you so much.”
She whispered it very softly, for him alone, but the Master heard every word. He said, out of the side of his mouth, to an officer: “Take her to the punishment room.” He then escorted his guest to the boys’ section, where Sir Ian gave his second address.
Jane ran to join the rest of the girls. They were agog with excitement and she was the centre of attention. She entered, proud and confident, her eyes dancing.
“That’s my daddy. He’s going to take me away.”
They crowded around, chattering. Most of the girls believed her, although some of the older ones didn’t. “Don’t be silly. We’re all going on holiday, not just you.”
Jane replied haughtily. “Oh well, perhaps he will take some of you as well. He’s very rich. But he’s my daddy and he’s taking me specially. After that we will live together in his big house.”
An officer was standing right behind her. Jane was not aware of it while she spoke, but when she saw the girls looking over her shoulder, she turned round. The officer grabbed her.
“You come along with me, my girl. The Master wants to see you.”
Jane’s heart leaped. Her bright eyes looked over to the other girls. “There, you see! My daddy’s going to take me away now. That’s why the Master wants to see me.”
The officer looked grim and most of the girls looked nervous. Only Jane was happy as she walked confidently away with the officer.
She was taken to the punishment room. The door was opened, she was pushed in, then the door was locked from the outside.
Jane was surprised, even startled, to find herself in a small room, about eight feet square, with no windows except the slit of a fanlight high up on one wall. There was no furniture, except for a three-legged stool sitting alone on the stone floor. Around the wall hung several canes of different lengths and a leather-thonged whip which had three tails, with a small lead pellet attached to the end of each tail.
She couldn’t understand it. Why should they want her to wait here? Still, what did it matter, she thought to herself. She could still feel her daddy’s kind, warm hands as he caressed her hair, and the sound of his voice as he called her “my child”. What did it matter? What did anything in the world matter but that she had told him she loved him and he had called her his child and promised to take her away?
Jane sat down on the stool to wait.
Sir Ian Astor-Smaleigh returned to Oxford that evening full of philanthropic satisfaction. It had been a wonderful day. All the arrangements had been agreed with the workhouse master, the dates settled, the travelling arranged, catering organised, even the clothing supplier had been contracted. No wonder he was pleased. Over three hundred desperately poor children would benefit. He would be able to give a full and satisfactory report to his committee.
Lady Lavinia read his face as he entered the house. She shared her husband’s happiness. The maid brought in a late meal and they sat down to discuss the day’s work. He told her how he had addressed the children twice, first the girls and then the boys. They were poor, grey little things, he said, with very little life or vitality about them, not like their own children, who tumbled all over the place, and couldn’t be contained. She protested that their children were not all that bad – “but do go on, dear.”
“However,” he said, “there was one little girl who seemed different. She was full of life. She was hanging on to every word as I spoke. She didn’t take her eyes off me and she was obviously overcome with joy at the news. In fact she ran up to me afterwards to thank me.”