The Getting of Wisdom | Page 7

pleasant in knowing that you were
misunderstood. It made you feel different from everyone else.
Mother--sewing hard after even the busy Sarah had retired-- Mother
smiled a stern little smile of amusement to herself; and before locking
up for the night put the dark curl safely away.

II.

Laura, sleeping flat on her stomach, was roused next morning by Pin
who said:
"Wake up, Wondrous Fair, mother wants to speak to you. She says you
can get into bed in my place, before you dress." Pin slept warm and
cosy at Mother's side.
Laura rose on her elbow and looked at her sister: Pin was standing in
the doorway holding her nightgown to her, in such a way as to expose
all of her thin little legs.
"Come on," urged Pin. "Sarah's going to give me my bath while you're
with mother."
"Go away, Pin," said Laura snappily. "I told you yesterday you could
say Laura, and . . . and you're more like a spider than ever."
"Spider" was another nickname for Pin, owed to her rotund little body
and mere sticks of legs--she was "all belly" as Sarah put it--and the
mere mention of it made Pin fly; for she was very touchy about her
legs.
As soon as the door closed behind her, Laura sprang out of bed and,
waiting neither to wash herself nor to say her prayers, began to pull on
her clothes, confusing strings and buttons in her haste, and quite
forgetting that on this eventful morning she had meant to dress herself
with more than ordinary care. She was just lacing her shoes when Sarah
looked in.

"Why, Miss Laura, don't you know your ma wants you?"
"It's too late. I'm dressed now," said Laura darkly.
Sarah shook her head. "Missis'll be fine an' angry. An' you needn't 'ave
'ad a row on your last day."
Laura stole out of the door and ran down the garden to the
summer-house. This, the size of a goodly room, was formed of a single
dense, hairy-leafed tree, round the trunk of which a seat was built. Here
she cowered, her elbows on her knees, her chin in her hands. Her face
wore the stiff expression that went by the name of "Laura's sulks," but
her eyes were big, and as watchful as those of a scared animal. If Sarah
came to fetch her she would hold on to the seat with both hands. But
even if she had to yield to Sarah's greater strength--well, at least she
was up and dressed. Not like the last time--about a week ago Mother
had tried this kind of thing. Then, she had been caught unawares. She
had gone into Pin's warm place, curious and unsuspecting, and
thereupon Mother had begun to talk seriously to her, and not with her
usual directness. She had reminded Laura that she was growing up
apace and would soon be a woman; had told her that she must now
begin to give up childish habits, and learn to behave in a modest and
womanly way--all disagreeable, disturbing things, which Laura did not
in the least want to hear. When it became clear to her what it was about,
she had thrown back the bedclothes and escaped from the room. And
since then she had been careful never to be long alone with Mother.
But now half an hour went by and no one came to fetch her: her grim
little face relaxed. She felt very hungry, too, and when at length she
heard Pin calling, she jumped up and betrayed her hiding-place.
"Laura! Laura, where are you? Mother says to come to breakfast and
not be silly. The coach'll be here in an hour."
Taking hands the sisters ran to the house.
In the passage, Sarah was busy roping a battered tin box. With their
own hands the little boys had been allowed to paste on this a big sheet
of notepaper, which bore, in Mother's writing, the words:
Miss Laura Tweedle Rambotham The Ladies' College Melbourne.
Mother herself was standing at the breakfast-table cutting sandwiches.
"Come and eat your breakfast, child," was all she said at the moment.
"The tea's quite cold."
Laura sat down and fell to with appetite, but also with a side-glance at

the generous pile of bread and meat growing under Mother's hands.
"I shall never eat all that," she said ungraciously; it galled her still to be
considered a greedy child with an insatiable stomach.
"I know better than you do what you'll eat," said Mother. "You'll be
hungry enough by this evening I can tell you, not getting any dinner."
Pin's face fell at this prospect. "Oh, mother, won't she really get any
dinner?" she asked: and to her soft little heart going to school began