The Golden Calf

at unexpected thunder. A murmur ran along the desks, from girl to girl, and then some one, near that end of the

faltered the girl who had ventured diffidently

an absolute fact? Either she is taking her lesson, or she is not taking her l

alf a dozen Irises started up to carry the ruler's message; but

rls to carry one messag

young lady who thought herself quite the most refined and elegant thing at Mauleverer Manor, and so entirely superior to her surroundings as to be absolved from the necessity of being obliging. But Miss Pew's voice, when fortified by anger, was too much even for Miss Rylance's calm sens

spered Miss Cobb, the Kentish brewer's daughter, to Mi

d unrefined good looks - a girl who bore 'beer' written in unmistakable characters across her forehead, Miss Rylance had obse

of authority, she is so drilled, and lectured, and ruled and regulated, that, when the eye of authority is off her, she seems nat

ong bare room, with its four tall windows facing a hot blue sky, felt almost as exhausted by the heat as if they had been placed under an air-pump. Miss Pew had a horror of draughts, so the upper

nkfort, and it was Fr?ulein Wolf's mission to go on eternally explaining the difficulties of her native language to the pupils at Mauleverer Manor, and to correct those

were wrong, and then the door was opened suddenly - not at all in the manner so carefully instilled by the teacher of deportment. It was flung back, rather, as if with an angry hand, and a young wo

Fr?ulein, blinking at that distant f

nate, Miss Pillby, the useful drudge who did a little indifferent teaching in English grammar a

ow Ida Palliser the state of her desk?' ask

know the state of my desk quite as well as she does. I dare

not the word. It's degrading. Miss Pillby, be good enough to call ov

was impossible. There was no dirty work she would not have done meekly, willingly even, at Miss Pew's bidding. The girls were neve

nd proceeded in a flat, drawling voice to call o

ldren of the Abbey

ighed M

square of hardbake. An old neck-ribbon. An odd cuff. Seven letters. A knife, with the

r to me,' comm

very ridiculous guise and attitude by that young person's facile pen. Her large cheeks reddened in anticip

er Miss Palliser's resolute f

pursued Miss Pillby, with implacable monotony. 'Three Brazil n

ou are not going to confiscate that, Miss

I were to burn everything in your locker,

might never get another. Papa is so thoughtless.

a school, a hardening process which is supposed to deaden the instincts of womanhoo

ve no time to be tidy. You can't ex

Palliser turned her back upon

?' murmured the irrepressibl

has nothing to lose. Old Pew couldn't possibly treat her any

d a worn-out old square piano, and sat down for her hour's practice. She was always told off to the worst pianos in the house. She took out a book of five-finger exercises, by a Leipsic professor, placed it on the desk, and then, just as she

, or an articled pupil. Her father, a military man, living abroad on his half pay, with a young second wife, and a five-year old son, had paid Miss Pew a lump sum of fifty pounds, and for those fifty pounds Miss Pew had agreed to maintain and educate Ida Palliser during the space of three years, to give her the benefit of in

nual duties in the way of assisting in the lavatory on tub-nights, washing hair-brushes, and mending clothes, could be too much for a healthy young woman of ni

a, in the midst of her sobs. 'I ha

edly, and began her five-finger exercises, tum, tum, tum, with the lit

d stupid, they would have been a little

ck of teaching she enlarged her sphere of tuition, and from taking the lowest class only, as former articled pupils had done

er to improve herself, for that career of governess in a gentleman's family was the only future open to her. She used to read the advertisements in the governess column of the Times supplement, and it comforted her to see that an all-accomplished teacher demanded from eighty to a hundred a year for her services. A hundre

de. She braced herself up, and set herself valourously

steadily,' she told herself; 'ther

egan to laugh t

caricatures,' she thought, 'and whether she

n ancient canterbury under the ancient piano, and went to the room where she slept, in co

ers, a race now as extinct as the Dodo. It was a roomy, rambling old house of the time of the Stuarts, and bore the date of its erection in many unmistakable peculiarities. There were fine rooms on the ground floor, with handsome chimney-pieces and oak panelling. There were small low rooms above, curious old passages, turns and twists, a short flight of steps here, and another flight there, various levels, irregularities of al

quare-cut coat, knee-breeches, and silk stockings rolled up over his knees. He was supposed to be one of the extinct Mauleverers; harmless and even benevolently disposed; given to plucking flowers in the garden at dusk; and to gliding along pas

ess of her aspirates - she managed them sometimes, but they often

asked Miss Rylance with superb disdain,

itants who gave character to the locality. The five-bedded room off the front landing was occupied by the stiffest and best behaved of the first division, and might be ranked with Grosvenor Square or Lancaster Gate. There were rooms on the second floor where girls of the second an

s among roses and lilies in a strictly conventional style of art. The butterfly-room was the most fashionable and altogether popular dormitory at the Manor. It wa

across the garden to the Thames, which at this point took a wide curve between banks shaded by old pollard willows. The landscape was purely

Chertsey, in a land of meadows and gardens whi

he valuation had been ridiculously low. Thus it happened that a big wainscot wardrobe, with doors substantial enough for a church, projected its enormous bulk upon one side of the butterfly-room, while a tall narrow cheval glass stood in front of a window. That cheval was t

e tea, knowing that Miss Pew and her younger sister, Miss Dulcibella - who devoted herself to dress an

le, and another girl, a plump little sixteen-year-old, with nut-brown hair, and a fresh complexion, was adv

tract,' said this damsel, 'but it re

laxen plait into a shining knob at the back of her head, and contemplating her reflect

, Miss Rylance ought to have been lovely. But she had escaped loveliness b

you suppose I've never been into an hotel, or even into a tavern? When I go for a long drive with papa h

it,' said Miss Rylance, fastening her brooch. 'Call

er toes, and surveyed her image in the glass from head to foot, with an aggravated air. 'I hope I'm not vulgar-looking, but I'm

or?' asked Ida, coming into the room, and seat

across the room and

there. It would have been "Up, guards, and at 'em!" if I had. I'm sure I should have said something cheeky to old Pew.

o more account in her eyes than an artist's lay figure, which is put away in a dark closet when it isn't in use. She

's bosom friend. 'It's too bad the way they use you. Have this neck-ribbon,' suddenly untying the bow

y-coloured ribbon under her friend's collar, pat

way, while Miss Rylance looked on with ineffable contempt. 'Y

ith cold scorn; 'then I ought to hav

ney matter?'

l like you, who has nev

poverty. The rents are so slow to come in; the tenants are always wanting drain-pipes and barns and thi

erty from mine. You have never known what it is

as if she were

u horrid thing, you need never feel the wa

te into that loathsome animal a sponge,' said Ida, rising suddenly from

ds, divinely tall And

f a deep warm brown rippling naturally across her broad forehead, a complexion of creamiest white and richest carnation. These were but the sensual parts of beauty which can be catalogued. But it was in the glorious light and variety of expression that Ida shone above all compee