The Beth Book
girls to marry well, and they generally do. I should think, Miss Beth,
she will be able to make something of you with those eyes!"
"Look at its neck and shoulders, too, and the way its head is set on
them!" Clara exclaimed.
"Not to mention its hands and its complexion!" Geraldine supplemented.
"But its voice alone--_soft, gentle, and low_--would get it into the
peerage!"
Beth, unused to be appraised in this way, blushed and smiled, rather
pleased, but confused.
"How many girls are there here?" she asked, to change the subject.
"Six boarders till you came, but now we are seven," Clara answered.
"There are some day-girls too, but they are children, and don't count.
The greatest pickle in the school is the daughter of an Archbishop--at
least, she has been the greatest pickle so far--we don't know you as
yet, however. But we have heard things!"
"Come and see my room," Geraldine interrupted. "And perhaps you'd like
to see your own. It's next to mine."
"Are you allowed to go up and down stairs just as you like?" Beth
asked in surprise.
"Why, of course!" Geraldine cried. "You can go where you like and sit
where you like when you've done your work. We're not in prison!"
Beth had a dainty little room, hung with white curtains, all to
herself. Her heart expanded when she saw it. The delightful appearance
of her new surroundings had already begun to have the happiest effect
upon her mind.
When Geraldine took her into her own room she drew a yellow book from
under a quantity of linen in a drawer. "It's a French novel," she
said. "Miss Blackburne wouldn't let me read it for worlds if she knew,
so you mustn't tell. I'll lend it to you if you like."
"I couldn't read it if I would; I don't know enough," Beth said.
"Oh, you'll soon learn; and I'll tell you all there is in it. I say,
what size is your waist? Mine is only seventeen inches; but I laced
till I got shingles to reduce it to that. I know a doctor who says
small waists are neither healthy nor beautiful; but then they're the
fashion, and men are such awful fools about fashion. They sneer at a
healthy figure, and saddle themselves every day with ailing wives, all
deformed, because they're accustomed to see women so; and then they
call _us_ silly! My husband won't think _me_ silly once I get command
of his money, whatever else he may think me. Till then--!" she made a
pretty gesture with her hands and laughed--Beth observing her the
while with deep attention as a new specimen.
She found eventually that Geraldine was not at all a bad girl, or in
the least inclined to be vicious, her conversation notwithstanding;
she was merely a shrewd one learning how to protect herself in that
state of life to which she was destined. If a woman is to make her way
in society and keep straight, she must have wits and knowledge of a
special kind. There is probably no more delightful, high-minded,
charming-mannered, honourable and trustworthy woman in the world than
a well-bred Englishwoman; but, on the other hand, there can be nothing
more vulgar-minded, coarse, and despicable than women of fashion tend
to become. There is no meanness nor shabbiness, not to mention fraud,
that they will not stoop to when it suits themselves, from tricking a
tradesman and sweating a servant, to neglecting their children,
deceiving their husbands, and slandering their friends. They are sheep
running hither and thither in servile imitation of each other, without
an original thought amongst them; the froth of society, with the
natural tendency of froth to rise to the surface and thence be swept
aside; mere bubbles, that shine a moment and then burst. It is fashion
that unsexes women and unmakes men. To be in the world of fashion and
of it, is to degenerate; but to be in it and not of it, to know it and
remain untainted, despising all it has to give, makes towards solid
advance. There are some ugly stages to be gone through, however,
before the advancement is pronounced.
The six girls at Miss Blackburne's were all daughters of people of
position, all enjoying the same advantages and under the same
influences; but three of them were already shaping themselves into
women of fashion, while the other three were tending as inevitably to
develop into women of fine character and cultivated mind. Beth was
attracted to all such women, and recognised their worth, often long
before they appreciated her at all. She was seventh among the girls,
her place being in the middle, as it were, with three on either side
of her, teaching her all they could, as was inevitable. In association
with the budding women of fashion, she lost the first fine delicacy of
maiden modesty of mind; but the example of the young gentlewomen, on
the other hand, confirmed her taste and settled her convictions. The
ladies who kept the school were high-minded themselves and exemplary
in every possible way, and if they did not make all their pupils
equally so, it was because factors go to the formation of character
with which, for want of knowledge, no one can reckon at present. The
influence of these ladies upon Beth was altogether benign. She was in
a new world with them--a world of ease and refinement, of polished
manners, of kindly consideration, where, instead of being harried by
nagging rules, stultified by every kind of restraint, and lowered in
her own estimation for want of proper respect and encouragement, she
was allowed as much liberty as she would have had in a well-ordered
home, and found herself and her abilities of special interest to each
of her teachers. Instead of being an item, a part of a huge piece of
machinery to be strictly kept in the particular place assigned to her,
whether it were adapted to the needs of her nature or not, for fear of
putting the whole mechanism out of order, her present and future being
less considered than the smooth working of the machine--she was a girl
again with some character of her own to be formed and developed. Here,
too, she was put upon her honour to do all that was expected of her,
and the immediate consequence of this in her case was the most
scrupulous exactness. She attached herself to Miss Ella, attracted
first of all by the fact that she was a Roman Catholic. How she could
be one was a mystery Beth longed to solve; but Miss Ella did not
consider it loyal to Protestant parents to influence their daughters
at school, and would give her no help in this. In every other respect,
however, Beth found her exceedingly kind and sympathetic, a serene,
strong woman, who began to curb the exuberance of Beth's naughtiness
from the first, and to direct the energy of which it was the outcome
into profitable channels.
There was no monotony in Miss Blackburne's establishment. The girls
were taken in turns to operas, concerts, picture-galleries, and every
kind of exhibition that might help to cultivate their minds. To be
able to discuss such things was a part of their education. They were
expected to describe all they saw, fluently and pleasantly, but
without criticism enough to require thought and provoke argument,
which is apt to be tedious; and thus was formed the habit of chatting
in the genial light frothy way which does duty for conversation in
society. Geraldine had not exaggerated when she called Miss
Blackburne's school a forcing house for the marriage market. At that
time marriage was the only career open to a gentlewoman, and the
object of her education was to make her attractive. The theory then
was that solid acquirements were beyond the physical strength of
girls, besides being unnecessary. Showy accomplishments, therefore,
were all that was aimed at; but they had to be thorough. Music,
singing, drawing, dancing, French, German, Italian--whatever it might
be; the girl who was learning it had the greatest attention from her
master or mistress during the lesson; she was made to do it as much by
the will of the teacher as by her own intelligence. This was the first
experience of thorough teaching Beth had ever had, and she enjoyed
it, and would have worked harder to profit by it than Miss Blackburne
would allow. As it was, she made great progress with her work, while
all the time the more informal but most valuable part of her
education, which was directed to the strengthening of every womanly
attribute, went on steadily under the influence of Miss Ella.
It would have been well for Beth if she had been left at Miss
Blackburne's for the next three years; but just when the rebellious
beating of her wings against the bars had ceased, and they had folded
themselves contentedly behind her for awhile; just when the wild
flights of her imagination were giving way to wholesome habits of
thought, and her own vain dreams were being dissipated by the honest
ambition to accomplish something actual--she was summoned away. Her
sister Mildred had died suddenly of meningitis, and the immediate
effect of the shock on Mrs. Caldwell, who had dearly loved her eldest
daughter, was a kindlier feeling for Beth, and a wish to have her at
home--for a time at all events. And Beth went willingly under the
circumstances. She sympathised deeply with her mother, and was full of
grief herself for her sister, to whom she had been tenderly attached
although they had seen so little of each other. Beth was not yet
sixteen, and this was the third blow that death had dealt her.
CHAPTER XXXIV
Beth had a natural love of order, and at school she had learnt the
necessity for it. She did not mean to give up work when she went home;
on the contrary, she determined to do more than ever. Miss Ella had
taught her to be deliberate, neither to haste nor to rest, but
steadily to pursue. She insisted that things to be well done must be
done regularly, and Beth, in accordance with this precept, mapped out
her day so as to make the most of it. She got up at seven, opened her
window wider, threw the clothes back from her bed to air it, had her
bath, brushed her hair; left nothing untidy lying about her room; did
her good reading, the psalms and lessons; breakfasted, made her bed,
studied French, went out for exercise, sewed, and read so much, all in
the same order every day. She paid particular attention to her
personal appearance, too, that being the one of her mother's
principles which had also been most particularly enjoined by Miss
Blackburne. At both of her schools marriage was the great ambition of
most of the girls. At St Catherine's it meant a means of escape from
many hardships; to Miss Blackburne's girls it offered the chance of a
better position, and more money and luxury. There was a nicer tone
among the Royal Service girls, and more reticence in their discussions
of the subject than at Miss Blackburne's, where the girls were not at
all high-minded, and talked of their chances with the utmost
frankness, not to say coarseness; but good looks were held to be the
best, if not the only means to the end in both sets. Money and
accomplishments might help, but personal appearance was the great
certainty; and Beth was naturally impressed with this idea like the
rest. Marriage, however, was far from being the distinct object of her
life; in fact, she had no distinct object at all as yet. She had
always meant to do something, or rather to be something; but further
than that she had not got.
Miss Blackburne had paid particular attention to the cultivation of
the speaking voice, and it was from her that Beth had learnt how to
round hers to richness, and modulate it so that its natural sweetness
and charm were greatly enhanced. There was considerable difference of
opinion about her looks. She was always striking in appearance, but
dress, for one thing, altered her very much, and the state of her mind
still more. People who met her on one occasion admired her