“Well, perhaps it would be good for Sefton to have a grown-up brother at the school,” said Maria. “It might give him a background.”
“You are given a real reason for your going, Oliver,” said Sir Roderick.
“It would make no difference,” said Lucius, “or anyhow would be no advantage. Their paths would not cross, and the boys would think no more of Sefton. They have little respect for labour held to be worthy of its hire.”
“Of course boys are the most conventional of creatures,” said Juliet, “though I never quite know how it was discovered. They do not eschew breaches of convention. When any trouble arises, it is generally about those.”
“I suppose some breaches of convention are conventional,” said Sir Roderick.
“So, my boy, they are making a governess of you between them,” said Mr. Firebrace.
“Yes, I should have thought someone else would have supposed that,” said Lesbia.
“Shall we send for the children, and ask them what they think?” said Maria.
“We will tell them what has been decided,” said her husband. “We will not ask them for opinions that are to be disregarded, about their own future.”
“Yes, you are right, Roderick,” said Lesbia. “To have one’s fate in the hands of other people is one of the hard features of childhood and merits sympathy. I find that is one of the demands of my life, to give sympathy of the right kind and degree; and I hope the power has grown with exercise. And they have not tried the new conditions. We should wait for their judgement until they have.”
“They may as well come down,” said Maria. “We should all like to see them, or anyhow Roderick and I would.”
“There is only one thing for us to say, and so, of course, it goes without saying,” said Lesbia.
“It is fortunate that things that go without saying, are such harmless things,” said Juliet. “If they were not, we should live in danger, as they always seem to be said.”
“Aldom, ask Miss Clemence and Master Sefton to come downstairs,” said Maria.
“Yes, my lady. Is Miss Petticott to come too?”
“We need hardly trespass on Miss Petticoat’s time,” said Sir Roderick, with a hint of preferring his own choice of phrase.
“Now I should like to see Miss Petticott,” said Lesbia. “I am interested in all forms of education, and hers is different from mine. And I should like the present question to be discussed before her. It is what I should choose in her place, and in such matters we are safe in judging other people by ourselves.”
“Miss Petticott too, my lady? Yes, my lady,” said Aldom, looking at Maria and going to the door.
“I think Aldom takes the conventional view of the teaching profession,” said Lesbia with a laugh.
“He may see the different position of someone who teaches in the house,” said Sir Roderick.
“Now why is it different?” said Lesbia. “I fail to see any difference. I recognise none. I see the same aims, the same interests, the same hopes in both that branch of the calling and mine.”
“He may see a different income and a different degree of independence.”
“I hope he does not see our income,” said Juliet. “I never turn my eyes on it. It is shocking to get so much out of the charge and training and food — yes, food — of helpless boys. We can hardly look for people’s respect. And nothing ought to have respect, that has so much besides.”
“You have not the same reason for discomfort, Lesbia?” said Sir Roderick.
“No, I can hold my head high. And I think on the whole I prefer it in that way. On the basis of a simple and fair return for what it is in my power to give. I give it and ask but the means to live, and I think that makes for true content.”
“My content is the other kind, and I do like it better,” said her sister. “But I have the grace to feel ashamed.”
“Why do you call it grace?” said Oliver. “Things that are mixed up with shame ought to have some other name, and really have it.”
“How do you do, Miss Petticott?” said Lesbia, rising at the opening of the door, on which she had kept her eyes. “I am looking forward to my talk with you. You and I are to have something in common—” She broke off as she encountered the children and realised one difference in Miss Petticott’s branch of the calling, a vagueness in the matter of precedence.
“How do you do, Miss Petticott?” she said again, sending her eyes past the children as a relief to the check. “I have been looking forward to my talk with you. You and I are to have something in common, a pupil, in addition to the other things common to us both. You hold the superior position with regard to her; you have laid the foundations; my task is to add the superstructure, a humbler part. I hope you will give me your help, a generous office, as I have given you none.”
“Indeed, Miss Firebrace, you put things very kindly. I will do anything I can. I am sorry to lose Clemence, but glad for her to have any advantages that should be hers. And I shall have her in the holidays. I must think of that.”
“Yes, yes, the holidays,” said Lesbia, in her soft tones. “They have their significance in the educational round. I often wish I had more to do with the holidays. They are not the least of the formative influences. They admit the use of initiative, of free will. They cannot be.”
“Does not Miss Petticott have any?” said Oliver.
“Well, Mr. Shelley, holidays are short when the life involves the sharing of a home. And I shall soon have a change of work, and that is known to be a rest.”
“It is a good thing it is known,” said Juliet. “Or how should we find it out?”
“A change of work!” said Lesbia. “That too will have its effect on the guidance when it comes into force again. The wider the experience, the wider the survey. That is why I keep my holidays for my own interests. I feel I am not the narrower for them.”
“Anything seems to do for education,” said Juliet. “It seems rather pointless to keep a school for the purpose.”
“Do you teach in your school, Juliet?” said Sir Roderick.
“No, not now. I used to, but it was not a success.”
“I should have thought the boys would like you.”
“They did. They liked me too much. And I could not bear to lose their affection. That was the whole thing.”
“Could you not teach them without losing it?”
“No, I could not be harsh with them.”
“Can nothing be done without harshness?”
“No, everything is done by it.”
“Are there no other methods?”
“Yes, I believe so, but no successful ones.”
“I thought it was not allowed in these days.”
“It is always the things that are not allowed, that achieve results. No notice is taken of things that do nothing.”
“I suppose it creeps in in spite of the theories. And small doses have more effect.”
“Well, they have some effect,” said Juliet.
“How do you do, Clemence? How do you do, Sefton?” said Lesbia, turning as if on a second thought. “I hope you can forgive this invasion of your home.”
“I did not greet them, as you did not,” said Juliet, “I thought it might be making advances to possible pupils. But I am glad you have done it. I was wondering how things were to be.”
“I had forgotten the problematic future relation at the moment,” said Lesbia, with a smile. “If I have lost my dignity, I must do my best to recover it.”
“If you had greeted them when they came in, you would have kept it,” said Oliver.
Sir Roderick gave a glance almost of approval at his son.
“What do you think of the relative claims of home and school?” said Juliet to the children. “Well, somebody has to say it. And I am used to taking the thankless part. It leaves Lucius aloof for the good of the school. I suppose we should be ruined if he said that sort of thing.”