A Lesson
The clock in the Head Office struck noon, and the Headmistress of Largelady Lane school for girls lifted her head from the papers on her immaculate desk.
It was springtime, and in spite of many cares and problems occupying her busy mind, the lady 's glance rested for a while on the bouquet of lilies-of-the valley – the only un-businesslike object on her table.
In spite of being already in her early fifties, the Headmistress could definitely be called a handsome woman, if not a beautiful one; she carried herself with the stately grace of a dowager queen, and the overall impression of her person was that of nobility and innocence, marred with a slight shadow of sadness.
Yes, despite all past years, she was still the same strong-minded, stalwart and compassionate woman, though the calendar on her desk definitely declared 1927 A.D.
A loud knock at the door switched her mind back to reality and her post as the Head of the school.
"May I , ma'am?"
"Yes, Miss Stuart, you may come in!".
A bushy-haired , tall brunette, of about twelve or thirteen years old was timidly (quite uncharacteristic of her) standing on the threshold.
"Yes, Jane dear, come in and let's have it out."
The girl made several steps towards the center of the room and once the doors were closed, lifted her sharp forget-me-not eyes, in which the Headmistress failed to notice any signs of remorse, to meet the lady's brown ones.
"So unlike her mother", thought the Headmistress.
For the lady's memory was still as sharp as in days gone by, when she had to decode shorthand, arrange journals and letters and learn train timetables by heart.
Yes, Wendy Darling (whom she also taught, before moving up in her teaching career), despite her vivid imagination and unconventional replies, had hardly ever been so difficult to deal with…At least she always admitted when she was wrong (well, nearly always, the Headmistress corrected herself)
This girl, on the contrary, aside from being on of the most willful and stubborn creatures in her vast experience, had the habit of answering with a challenging question to any question being asked, and was always the last to admit her faults.
A paternal legacy, thought the Headmistress with a sad smile.
And now this girl, who mostly reminded the lady of Jo March from one of her favourite classical novels , was standing right in front of her – again! – without even bothering herself to pretend to be penitent!
The Headmistress put on her "severe" face and stood up.
"Jane", she said in a voice that could be described of "gentle, but firm", "I didn't call you here in my office with a purpose just to scold you, but really, my dear, you are surpassing limits this time"
A surprised look was all she got so far.
"The fact I had been friends with your late Grandmother, and, well, a friend of your family, doesn't mean you can freely break the school rules…"
"But, ma'am, I didn't break…"
"…and insulting your teachers in front of your classmates! Really, Jane Stuart, I thought better of you!"
" But, ma'am, I have done nothing special!"
The Headmistress' brow went up.
"Nothing? Didn't you call your History teacher, Miss Haggard, bad names?"
Something flicked though the teenager's eyes.
"Why, I only said "Old hag" once, but that's what everybody calls her behind her back! It was just a slip of a tongue, ma'am!"
"A slip of a tongue? So you admit you called your teacher bad names?"
Now the girl's glance had a spark which could grow into full fire in no time.
"But, ma'am, she IS an old hag! Giving me "Unsatisfactory" just because in my end-of term report I called Oliver Cromwell a git…"
"Jane!"
"…pardon, ma'am, but he was a git, sending Great -Grandpa Charles to execution, and taking his place, as if he had rights for it! And if you only knew what old Haggard told us of Grandfather's ruling period…"
The Headmistress, well educated in history herself, Restoration period included, felt her cheeks getting pink.
"….but it's not all, ma'am! Just imagine – she recently tried to convince us my own Papa was dead! Beheaded for treason, as she put it, ugly old maid!"
"Enough!" The Headmistress' voice went as high as she could remember it to be.
Both the lady and the girl seemed like wise startled with their outbursts.
However, now Jane looked to be far less self-confident, and her lips were trembling, though she did her best not to show it.
In spite of the girl's many flaws, she does seem to love her parents and worship her ancestors, overlooking their past transgressions. And she is ready to defend them from outsiders' insults even under the danger of being expelled, observed the Headmistress.
She was no longer disappointed in her student, despite her blunt speeches.
Now it was time to come to terms.
"Jane", said the lady in a much more gentle tone, approaching the red-faced girl with a maternal look, "you know well that neither me nor you are in the position to reveal your family secrets…I gave my word to your mother when you entered these walls, that not a single soul would learn of your true origin. I'll surely have a talk with Miss Haggard, as I don't approve her actions at all," she added firmly, "but, my child, when you are older, you'll understand that in some cases the truth may appear to some people even more shocking, than the worst of lies, and in trying to convince them, we'll only be mocked at.
She paused, at a loss for words, and embraced a now quite penitent girl.
"There's time to speak out, and there's time to keep silence" Not my words, dear Jane, but belonging to someone much wiser…"
They were silent for a minute. Then the Headmistress noticed that her student was staring discreetly into the big antic mirror on the opposite wall – a legacy of her predecessors.
"Don't trust the mirrors too much, Jane", the older woman warned. "In my times, when I taught your mother, a classmate of hers, a certain Miss Cooper, had lived through a series of quite dangerous adventures because of her unreasonable attraction to those…babbles of human vanity…" The Headmistress shuddered as if getting suddenly cold.
"Who is speaking of vanity? Alas, it happens to be our family flaw, Madam Headmistress!", drawled a rich baritone from the threshold.
A tall dark, immaculately dressed man in his late fifties entered the office, and now was smiling at the gaping teenager and her equally stunned mentor with a somewhat mischievous expression on his handsome face.
"Mirror, mirror on the wall, who is the fairest of all?" he mockingly quoted.
"PAPA!!!!" screamed Jane , jumping at her sire like a five years old.
The Headmistress also seemed overwhelmed, though desperately trying not to show it.
"Mr. Stuart!", she sounded genuinely pleased. "What a pleasure to see you!"
The gentleman in question made a low gallant bow.
"Indeed, the pleasure is all mine, dear Madam!", he kissed her hand in a courteous way, adding in a low tone, "As you are aware, chere colleague, despite what is written in our history textbooks, the rumors of my premature demise have been, so to say, considerably exaggerated…But I was told my eldest is causing you trouble again, n'est-ce pas? "
"Well…" The lady glanced thoughtfully in Jane's direction, but the latter was too happy with her Dad's visit to pay attention to anything else. "In fact she did, but nothing special, sir. Eventually, we have already come to a certain…understanding…"
From above her father's shoulder, Jane sent her Headmistress a look of gratitude.
The gentleman looked pleased with both of them.
"You may leave now, ma fille," he addressed his daughter. "The lunch break is nearly over, and it would be bad form to be late for your next class. See you later!"
When the girl's steps were no more heard in the hall, he turned back to the mistress of the office with a hint of a smirk on his face.
"Good form, Madam Headmistress! Indeed, you have always struck me as a very wise lady, for someone" , he added in whisper, "who has not yet lived a single lifetime…"
The Headmistress' face went blank.
"Now, now, Mistress Harker! Surely you, of all people, must know that it should take more than mere six blows of axe to finish off a gentleman of royal blood!" And he added meaningfully: " You see, Madam Mina – may I call you the way my wife does? – no one is really dead whilst being loved by somebody…"
The look on the face of Headmistress Wilhelmina Murray Harker was unreadable.
"You always seem to come out with proper words for the occasion, Mr. Stuart !", she finally managed to smile faintly at her anxious interlocutor. "We cannot, by any means, change the course of History, but we simply must change ourselves, my dear colleague, to become living, not dead souls… And speaking of Wendy", she abruptly changed the subject, "how is she doing? I presume she is again…ah, in the family way?"
The ex-rebel and ex-buccaneer chuckled at her typically Victorian choice of words.
"Exactly, Madam Mina. We are expecting, and quite soon, too," he added with a proud fatherly look that made the Headmistress smile. "Now that Jeannette is growing up, we are in urgent need of another little girl!"
"Is it really so, Mr. Stuart? But I always thought gentlemen to be waiting for boys!"
"In this case, I must be an exception, Madam Mina... My vast life experience shows that a single girl is worth twenty boys! Now, if you excuse me, I should be going – I am already expected in my own school!" The gentleman looked at his vintage pocket watch – evidently, a present from his lady, the Headmistress smiled to herself.
" Thank you for coming, sir! And please give my best regards to Wendy! And to Alice and her husband as well, if they come over!" (Though looking at Mr. Stuart's face expression, she could guess the visit of her another ex-student and especially the latter's non-conformist spouse was not something Wendy's husband was looking forward…)
"Bien sur, madame! And you don't fail to give our regards to your son and his family, though not as cordial as yours – for a man who once courted my Wendy!", he added with a grin.
With a gallant bow he kissed her hand again and left the office.
And the Headmistress, long after his leave, was still overwhelmed by the notorious Duke's remark:
"No one is dead whilst being loved by somebody, " she whispered, "Or by Somebody…"
The lilies-of the-valley on her table, evidently sharing her opinion, seemed to nod their tiny heads in response.