Clemence smiled in acceptance of the words, disguised the sinking of her heart, wondered if Lesbia would see the visit as imposing silence, or as affording scope for violation of it. She felt the impulse to put the question, to plead the code of host and guest, but found her courage fail. She did not care if Lesbia read her thought, almost hoped she did, that she might recall and act upon it. She followed her companions to the cab and the train with no sign of her inner tumult. They were to travel with Miss Chancellor to London, there to be met and conducted onwards. Clemence was the only one whose destination was earlier, and it seemed a part of the ruthless hastening of fate.
“You are fortunate to get home so quickly,” said Verity. “This is a dreary stage of the term.”
“Why not call it the first stage of the holidays, Verity?” said Miss Chancellor.
“I find it the best of all moments. Nothing over, and everything to come,” said Gwendolen, striking at the pain in Clemence’s heart.
“School seems a long way off already. I have almost forgotten it.”
“Well, really, Clemence, that is evidence of a very shallow heart,” said Miss Chancellor. “And when school so soon afforded you a niche of your own!”
“It must be odd to have Miss Firebrace to stay,” said Esther. “What is she like in the house?”
“Why should it be odd?” said Miss Chancellor. “I suppose Miss Firebrace may pay a visit like anyone else. And no doubt she is like herself, Esther, and so an entertaining guest. I expect Clemence will enjoy having her.”
“I hope she will not broach awkward school affairs,” said Esther, breaking off as she realised where her words might lead.
“I failed to see what school affairs have been awkward for Clemence, Esther. And I do not know why Miss Firebrace should take another view.”
“I shall not see much of her,” said Clemence. “My brother and I will be together. We are not a great deal with guests. We are still looked upon as children.”
“Won’t your being at school make a difference to that?” said Esther.
“No, I don’t think so. School is not much regarded. And we like our old ways best.”
“But you see your father and mother?”
“Yes, we can go to them when we like. But Miss Petticott is with us in the schoolroom.”
“I suppose it is a very large house.”
“Well, it seems to be divided into parts. I suppose houses in the country are like that.”
“We live humbly in London,” said Gwendolen.
“I do not see anything humble in living in the greatest city in the world, Gwendolen.”
“There are slums in great cities, Miss Chancellor.”
“But you do not live in one, so I fail to see how that is on the point.”
“We live in a watering-place,” said Verity, lifting her shoulders.
“We live in a suburb,” said Esther, speaking as though she did not spare her bluntness in her own case.
“Maud lives in the same place as I do, and we never meet,” said Verity, as if in mockery of the circumstances.
“We move in a different milieu, Verity. My mother and I live in another part of the town. Those things count in a place of that kind, even if they do not count in themselves.”
“As they do,” muttered Esther.
“Where do you live, Miss Chancellor?”
“Also in a suburb, Gwendolen. And very pleasant I find it, and very anxious I am to get there.”
“Have you parents, Miss Chancellor?” said Verity, in a tone that recalled the one she sometimes used to Maud.
“Yes, indeed I have, Verity. And they are eagerly awaiting me. I am going back to be a child at home again, as Clemence is.”
“But you are not kept upstairs in a schoolroom?”
“No, not quite that. I have enough of schoolrooms in the term. But I believe my father would think it was rather my proper place.”
“Have you not had enough of them, Clemence?” said Verity.
“No, not of my own schoolroom. I have had nothing of it for three months.”
“But everything of it for years before,” said Esther.
“It is a natural feeling, Clemence,” said Miss Chancellor. “You are fortunate to have a sanctum of your own. It is one of the things for which I envy you.”
“Here is Clemence’s station!” said Esther. “The porter is looking out for her. I saw him recognise her as we passed. He is talking to a lady, and pointing her out. Is that someone who has come to meet you, Clemence? I think I once caught a glimpse of her at school.”
“Yes, it is my mother. I am at home at last,” said Clemence, preparing to leave the train.
“Well, really, Clemence, your journey has not been such a long one,” said Miss Chancellor, laughing, and helping with Clemence’s possessions. “I will just get out and see you into your mother’s hands.”
“Miss Chancellor likes to make new acquaintances,” said Esther. “And may not have much opportunity in the house where she is a child again.”
“I do not know why we should deduce so much from her seeing Clemence out of the train,” said Maud.
“This is Miss Chancellor, Mother. I am in her form,” said Clemence, when she and Maria had embraced.
Maria turned at once and grasped and retained Miss Chancellor’s hand.
“Why, I find this a closer tie than many older ones. And Clemence’s father would feel with me. Perhaps Miss Fire-brace would let Clemence bring you here at some time, or let you bring her, in whichever way it is seen. I suppose we are all under discipline.”
“I think we should have to bring each other, Lady Shelley. And in the spring it would be a delightful plan. The winter days are rather short. We were sorry not to see you at our party on Tuesday. We hoped you would be able to come.”
“You will have to see us in our home, to know us. I should think we can see you anywhere. You are not a person who has to be in one spot, to be yourself.”
“No, Lady Shelley. One advantage of my work is that it has taken me into different parts of the world we live in. It is one of the things I asked of life, and it has not been denied me.”
Maria talked until the train moved on, and beyond this stage, calling out invitations and suggestions, as it gathered speed. The girls leaned from their seats and called their farewells.
“Lady Shelley is very charming,” said Miss Chancellor, as she returned to her place.
“I should hardly have thought that was her word,” said Esther.
“And it is not, Esther. You are right. Cordial, genuine, with a quality of her own. That is a much better way of putting it.”
“It was clever of Esther to suggest so much in a word,” said Gwendolen.
“Or without one,” said Verity.
“Lady Shelley suggested it, Verity. Esther simply saw something of what was there. And it comes out much more in actual contact with her, both what is there and what is not. And the one definitely outweighs the other. I quite feel we shall meet as friends another time, and that is good work for a passing encounter.”
“The girls seem fond of you,” said Maria to her daughter, with a mingled pleasure and dubiousness, that drew Clemence back in a moment to her home world. “I am glad you are making friends. Is there anyone whom you especially like?”
“No, not yet. There has hardly been time. But I have got to know all my form. There are only five of us, and we see a good deal of each other.”
“They are all nice to you, are they?”
“Yes, very nice,” said Clemence, realising for the first time how far this had been the case.
“You are pale and thin, my little girl,” said Maria, putting her arm about her. “It is time you were back in your mother’s hands. Are you glad to be in them again?”
Clemence felt an impulse to yield her mind as well as her body to this keeping. The flatness of this homecoming seemed to offer protection to the truth. But the very ordinariness broke her courage, and her load was the heavier as the impulse passed.