The Rainbow-虹(英文版)- 第78部分

There　was　a　pause。　The　hubbub　died　down　but　did　not
cease。

〃What　did　I　say？〃　cried　Miss　Harby；　shrilly。

There　was　almost　plete　silence。　Sometimes　a　girl；　rather
late；　whirled　into　the　porch　and　flung　off　her　things。

〃Leaders……in　place；〃　manded　Miss　Harby　shrilly。

Pairs　of　girls　in　pinafores　and　long　hair　stood　separate　in
the　porch。

〃Standard　Four；　Five；　and　Six……fall　in；〃　cried　Miss
Harby。

There　was　a　hubbub；　which　gradually　resolved　itself　into
three　columns　of　girls；　two　and　two；　standing　smirking　in　the
passage。　In　among　the　peg…racks；　other　teachers　were　putting　the
lower　classes　into　ranks。

Ursula　stood　by　her　own　Standard　Five。　They　were　jerking
their　shoulders；　tossing　their　hair；　nudging；　writhing；　staring；
grinning；　whispering　and　twisting。

A　sharp　whistle　was　heard；　and　Standard　Six；　the　biggest
girls；　set　off；　led　by　Miss　Harby。　Ursula；　with　her　Standard
Five；　followed　after。　She　stood　beside　a　smirking；　grinning　row
of　girls；　waiting　in　a　narrow　passage。　What　she　was　herself　she
did　not　know。

Suddenly　the　sound　of　a　piano　was　heard；　and　Standard　Six　set
off　hollowly　down　the　big　room。　The　boys　had　entered　by　another
door。　The　piano　played　on；　a　march　tune；　Standard　Five　followed
to　the　door　of　the　big　room。　Mr。　Harby　was　seen　away　beyond　at
his　desk。　Mr。　Brunt　guarded　the　other　door　of　the　room。　Ursula's
class　pushed　up。　She　stood　near　them。　They　glanced　and　smirked
and　shoved。

〃Go　on；〃　said　Ursula。

They　tittered。

〃Go　on；〃　said　Ursula；　for　the　piano　continued。

The　girls　broke　loosely　into　the　room。　Mr。　Harby；　who　had
seemed　immersed　in　some　occupation；　away　at　his　desk；　lifted　his
head　and　thundered：

〃Halt！〃

There　was　a　halt；　the　piano　stopped。　The　boys　who　were　just
starting　through　the　other　door；　pushed　back。　The　harsh；　subdued
voice　of　Mr。　Brunt　was　heard；　then　the　booming　shout　of　Mr。
Harby；　from　far　down　the　room：

〃Who　told　Standard　Five　girls　to　e　in　like　that？〃

Ursula　crimsoned。　Her　girls　were　glancing　up　at　her；　smirking
their　accusation。

〃I　sent　them　in；　Mr。　Harby；〃　she　said；　in　a　clear；　struggling
voice。　There　was　a　moment　of　silence。　Then　Mr。　Harby　roared　from
the　distance。

〃Go　back　to　your　places；　Standard　Five　girls。〃

The　girls　glanced　up　at　Ursula；　accusing；　rather　jeering；
fugitive。　They　pushed　back。　Ursula's　heart　hardened　with
ignominious　pain。

〃Forward……march；〃　came　Mr。　Brunt's　voice；　and　the　girls
set　off；　keeping　time　with　the　ranks　of　boys。

Ursula　faced　her　class；　some　fifty…five　boys　and　girls；　who
stood　filling　the　ranks　of　the　desks。　She　felt　utterly
nonexistent。　She　had　no　place　nor　being　there。　She　faced　the
block　of　children。

Down　the　room　she　heard　the　rapid　firing　of　questions。　She
stood　before　her　class　not　knowing　what　to　do。　She　waited
painfully。　Her　block　of　children；　fifty　unknown　faces；　watched
her；　hostile；　ready　to　jeer。　She　felt　as　if　she　were　in　torture
over　a　fire　of　faces。　And　on　every　side　she　was　naked　to　them。
Of　unutterable　length　and　torture　the　seconds　went　by。

Then　she　gathered　courage。　She　heard　Mr。　Brunt　asking
questions　in　mental　arithmetic。　She　stood　near　to　her　class；　so
that　her　voice　need　not　be　raised　too　much；　and　faltering；
uncertain；　she　said：

〃Seven　hats　at　twopence　ha'penny　each？〃

A　grin　went　over　the　faces　of　the　class；　seeing　her　mence。
She　was　red　and　suffering。　Then　some　hands　shot　up　like　blades；
and　she　asked　for　the　answer。

The　day　passed　incredibly　slowly。　She　never　knew　what　to　do；
there　came　horrible　gaps；　when　she　was　merely　exposed　to　the
children；　and　when；　relying　on　some　pert　little　girl　for
information；　she　had　started　a　lesson；　she　did　not　know　how　to
go　on　with　it　properly。　The　children　were　her　masters。　She
deferred　to　them。　She　could　always　hear　Mr。　Brunt。　Like　a
machine；　always　in　the　same　hard；　high；　inhuman　voice　he　went　on
with　his　teaching；　oblivious　of　everything。　And　before　this
inhuman　number　of　children　she　was　always　at　bay。　She　could　not
get　away　from　it。　There　it　was；　this　class　of　fifty　collective
children；　depending　on　her　for　mand；　for　mand　it　hated　and
resented。　It　made　her　feel　she　could　not　breathe：　she　must
suffocate；　it　was　so　inhuman。　They　were　so　many；　that　they　were
not　children。　They　were　a　squadron。　She　could　not　speak　as　she
would　to　a　child；　because　they　were　not　individual　children；
they　were　a　collective；　inhuman　thing。

Dinner…time　came；　and　stunned；　bewildered；　solitary；　she　went
into　the　teachers'　room　for　dinner。　Never　had　she　felt　such　a
stranger　to　life　before。　It　seemed　to　her　she　had　just
disembarked　from　some　strange　horrible　state　where　everything
was　as　in　hell；　a　condition　of　hard；　malevolent　system。　And　she
was　not　really　free。　The　afternoon　drew　at　her　like　some
bondage。

The　first　week　passed　in　a　blind　confusion。　She　did　not　know
how　to　teach；　and　she　felt　she　never　would　know。　Mr。　Harby　came
down　every　now　and　then　to　her　class；　to　see　what　she　was　doing。
She　felt　so　inpetent　as　he　stood　by；　bullying　and
threatening；　so　unreal；　that　she　wavered；　became　neutral　and
non…existent。　But　he　stood　there　watching　with　the
listening…genial　smile　of　the　eyes；　that　was　really　threatening；
he　said　nothing；　he　made　her　go　on　teaching；　she　felt　she　had　no
soul　in　her　body。　Then　he　went　away；　and　his　going　was　like　a
derision。　The　class　was　his　class。　She　was　a　wavering
substitute。　He　thrashed　and　bullied；　he　was　hated。　But　he　was
master。　Though　she　was　gentle　and　always　considerate　of　her
class；　yet　they　belonged　to　Mr。　Harby；　and　they　did　not　belong
to　her。　Like　some　invincible　source　of　the　mechanism　he　kept　all
power　to　himself。　And　the　class　owned　his　power。　And　in　school
it　was　power；　and　power　alone　that　mattered。

Soon　Ursula　came　to　dread　him；　and　at　the　bottom　of　her　dread
was　a　seed　of　hate；　for　she　despised　him；　yet　he　was　master　of
her。　Then　she　began　to　get　on。　All　the　other　teachers　hated　him；
and　fanned　their　hatred　among　themselves。　For　he　was　master　of
them　and　the　children；　he　stood　like　a　wheel　to　make　absolute
his　authority　over　the　herd。　That　seemed　to　be　his　one　reason　in
life；　to　hold　blind　authority　over　the　school。　His　teachers　were
his　subjects　as　much　as　the　scholars。　Only；　because　they　had
some　authority；　his　instinct　was　to　detest　them。

Ursula　could　not　make　herself　a　favourite　with　him。　From　the
first　moment　she　set　hard　against　him。　She　set　against　Violet
Harby　also。　Mr。　Harby　was；　however；　too　much　for　her；　he　was
something　she　could　not　e　to　grips　with；　something　too　strong
for　her。　She　tried　to　approach　him　as　a　young；　bright　girl
usually　approaches　a　man；　expecting　a　little　chivalrous
courtesy。　But　the　fact　that　she　was　a　girl；　a　woman；　was　ignored
or　used　as　a　matter　for　contempt　against　her。　She　did　not　know
what　she　was；　nor　what　she　must　be。　She　wanted　to　remain　her　own
responsive；　personal　self。

So　she　taught　on。　She　made　friends　with　the　Standard　Three
teacher；　Maggie　Schofield。　Miss　Schofield　was　about　twenty　years
old；　a　subdued　girl　who　held　aloof　from　the　other　teachers。　She
was　rather　beautiful；　meditative；　and　seemed　to　live　in　another；
lovelier　world。

Ursula　took　her　dinner　to　school；　and　during　the　second　week
ate　it　in　Miss　Schofield's　room。　Standard　Three　classroom　stood
by　itself　and　had　windows　on　two　sides；　looking　on　to　the
playground。　It　was　a　passionate　relief　to　find　such　a　retreat　in
the　jarring　school。　For　there　were　pots　of　chrysanthemums　and
coloured　leaves；　and　a　big　jar　of　berries：　there　were　pretty
little　pictures　on　the　wall；　photogravure　reproductions　from
Greuze；　and　Reynolds's　〃Age　of　Innocence〃；　giving　an　air　of
intimacy；　so　that　the　room；　with　its　window　space；　its　smaller；
tidier　desks；　its　touch　of　pictures　and　flowers；　made　Ursula　at
once　glad。　Here　at　last　was　a　little　personal　touch；　to　which
she　could　respond。

It　was　Monday。　She　had　been　at　school　a　week　and　was　getting
used　to　the　surroundings；　though　she　was　still　an　entire
foreigner　in　herself。　She　looked　forward　to　having　dinner　with
Maggie。　That　was　the　bright　spot　in　the　day。　Maggie　was　so
strong　and　remote；　walking　with　slow；　sure　steps　down　a　hard
road；　carrying　the　dream　within　her。　Ursula　went　through　the
class　teaching　as　through　a　meaningless　daze。

Her　class　tumbled　out　at　midday　in　haphazard　fashion。　She　did
not　realize　what　host　she　was　gathering　against　herself　by　her
superior　tolerance；　her　kindness　and　her　laisseraller。　They　were
gone；　and　she　was　rid　of　them；　and　that　was　all。　She　hurried
away　to　the　teachers'　room。

Mr。　Brunt　was　crouching　at　the　small　stove；　putting　a　little
rice　pudding　into　the　oven。　He　rose　then；　and　attentively　poked
in　a　small　saucepan　on　the　hob　with　a　fork。　Then　he　replaced　the
saucepan　lid。

〃Aren't　they　done？〃　asked　Ursula　gaily；　breaking　in　on　his
tense　absorption。

She　always　kept　a　bright；　blithe　manner；　and　was　pleasant　to
all　the　teachers。　For　she　felt　like　the　swan　among　the　geese；　of
superior　heritage　and　belonging。　And　her　pride　at　being　the　swan
in　this　ugly　school　was　not　yet　abated。

〃Not　yet；〃　replied　Mr。　Brunt；　laconic。

〃I　wonder　if　my　dish　is　hot；〃　she　said；　bending　down　at　the
oven。　She　half　expected　him　to　look　for　her；　but　he　took　no
notice。　She　was　hungry　and　she　poked　her　finger　eagerly　in　the
pot　to　see　if　her　brussels　sprouts　and　potatoes　and　meat　were
ready。　They　were　not。

〃Don't　you　think　it's　rather　jolly　bringing　dinner？〃　she　said
to　Mr。　Brunt。

〃I　don't　know　as　I　do；〃　he　said；　spreading　a　serviette　on　a
corner　of　the　table；　and　not　looking　at　her。

〃I　suppose　it　is　too　far　for　you　to　go　home？〃

〃Yes；〃　he　said。　Then　he　rose　and　looked　at　her。　He　had　the
bluest；　fiercest；　most　pointed　eyes　that　she　had　ever　met。　He
stared　at　her　with　growing　fierceness。

〃If　I　were　you；　Miss　Brangwen；〃　he　said；　menacingly；　〃I
should　get　a　bit　tighter　hand　over　my　class。〃

Ursula　shrank。

〃Would　you？〃　she　asked；　sweetly；　yet　in　terror。　〃Aren't　I
strict　enough？〃

〃Because；〃　he　repeated；　taking　no　notice　of　her；　〃they'll　get
you　down　if　you　don't　tackle　'em　pretty　quick。　They'll　pull　you
down；　and　worry　you；　till　Harby　gets　you　shifted……that's
how　it'll　be。　You　won't　be　here