Chapter 2 – At Miss Minchin's (Fall 1913 -
Mary's first reaction to Miss Minchin's Select Seminary for Girls was very similar to another young lady who had arrived at the school several years before. She found the school cold and forbidding, and like the previous students, she noticed the varnished red cheeks of the moon on the mantle clock and how the very chairs felt as if they had bones in them. She shifted uncomfortably in her chair as Miss Minchin gushed over Mary's good looks and intelligence (although Mary knew Miss Minchin could have no knowledge of this, as Mary had said barely ten words to Miss Minchin so far). Mary sat there wondering if Miss Minchin said the same things to every girl who arrived at the school, and eventually she had her suspicions confirmed.
Mr. Craven was beginning to have his doubts about Miss Minchin and her school. Somehow, the Seminary seemed even a gloomier place than Misselthwaite. That and the pompous and phony woman puffing hot air across from him was not exactly easing his anxiety at sending Mary away. However, he had spoken to several acquaintances whose daughters had attended the school, and all of them had positive things to say about their daughters' educations. As he could not come up with a conclusive reason for him to take her away, Mr. Craven knew that he would have to allow Mary to attend.
"So, will we need to make any special accommodations for Miss Lennox?" Miss Minchin asked. Mary turned to Mr. Craven. He smiled and nodded, urging her to ask for what he knew she wanted.
"Might I…might I have a bit of earth?" she asked.
"I beg your pardon?" Miss Minchin said.
"A bit of earth…for planting a garden?"
"Miss Lennox, we do not allow our young ladies to play in the dirt," said Miss Minchin.
"Excuse me, Miss Minchin," interrupted Mr. Craven. "Mary here has her own special garden on my estate, and it is possibly the finest garden in Yorkshire. It belonged to my late wife, who tended it herself, and now it belongs to my niece. I see no harm in allowing Mary to indulge her green thumb, even in London."
"Err…well…perhaps we can come to some sort of arrangement," Miss Minchin stuttered, desperate to keep Mary and Mr. Craven happy. She knew how wealthy Mr. Craven was, and she loathed the idea of turning away such a rich and prominent gentleman's niece. It would be a blow to the school that it could not take, considering the recent withdrawals of several pupils and the upsetting change of fortune of one former pupil that particularly galled Miss Minchin' cold and greedy heart.
So in the end, it was agreed that a small corner of the kitchen garden would be turned over to Mary for her own use. Mr. Craven would set up accounts at shops that sold seeds and gardening tools, and so Mary could restock her garden as often as she needed. She was also given one of the front rooms which had a window box, so she could grow flowers right in her own room. Miss Minchin considered these requests ridiculous, but she had more demanding and difficult parents make requests in the past, so after the initial interview she wisely kept her mouth shut.
After the interview, Mr. Craven took Mary to meet Colin for tea. Mr. Pitcher had taken Colin to be fitted for Eton's uniforms, and Colin was relieved that that ordeal was over. The family spent the next few days shopping for Mary's school wardrobe, both children's school books, and other needed items for the upcoming school terms. They also took in some of the sights in London. Mary had found the zoo, with its caged, lethargic animals, particularly depressing, and wrote to Dickon about how unnatural it was to keep animals in cages. Mary was sure Dickon would agree that animals were happier wandering about like they did on the moor.
Finally, the day came when Mr. Craven and Colin had to leave Mary before they made their way to Eton. It was late on a Sunday afternoon, and the goodbyes were said with much laughter and tears. Mary thought her heart would burst at the pain of being left behind by the only family she had left, but Mr. Craven promised that Christmas would come in an instant, and that they would be together soon. Mary fought back tears and promised to write every week. Then, with a flurry of hugs and kisses, her uncle and cousin left to head for Eton.
Mary was then escorted to her room. She began to rearrange her things on top of her dresser when her new roommate arrived.
"Oh, hello," said the plump girl with an earnest face. "My name is Ermengarde St. John. You must be Mary Lennox."
"It's nice to meet you, Ermengarde," Mary told her. "You have a very pretty name."
"You really think so?" Ermengarde asked, pleased as her unusual name was her one pet vanity.
"Very much so. It sounds like a name out of a story book," Mary said. At this Ermengarde's mouth dropped. Only one other person had ever said the exact same thing to her, and that was her dearest, most beloved friend. She smiled, hoping her new roomie would be another good friend.
"I…thank you. Where have you come here from?" she asked politely.
"From Misselthwaite Manor in the town of Thwaite, in Yorkshire. But I was born in India," she told Ermengarde. At this Ermengarde turned very pale. This was far too spooky of a coincidence for Miss St. John to cope with.
"I have a very good friend who is also from India," she told Mary.
"Does she go to school here?" asked Mary. Ermengarde shook her head, her long light brown pigtail swishing back and forth as she did.
"She used to but her guardian took her away. I believe they are traveling in Venice right now," she explained. The two girls spent the next hour getting acquainted. Although Ermengarde was not particularly bright or interesting, Mary decided she was sweet and good natured and that she was glad to have her as both a roomie and a friend. When the dinner bell rang, they went down and Ermengarde took her assigned seat at the table, while Mary was told by Miss Amelia, Miss Minchin's plump younger sister, to take the empty seat next to Miss Minchin. Everyone stood at attention, watching Miss Minchin.
"Young ladies, I would like to introduce you to our newest pupil, Mary Lennox, who comes to us from Thwaite, Yorkshire."
"Good evening, Mary," all the girls said in unison while curtseying.
"Good evening," Mary said, returning their greeting with a little curtsey of her own, even though she felt slightly ridiculous doing it. Then, everyone was seated and the meal began. Mary noticed that a very tall, much older girl sitting next to Miss Minchin was giving her a cold and hostile stare. Mary frowned, wondering how she possibly could have done something to offend this girl. She decided to ask Ermengarde about the tall girl later.
After dinner, the girls were excused to the common room, where many of Mary's classmates took time to get acquainted with her. Mary was not used to be around so many young girls, and was quite overwhelmed by the barrage of names and faces. Ermengarde saw that Mary was having trouble and stuck to her all night, trying to help her make her way through. The tall girl, who would have been quite pretty if she did not wear such an angry and hateful expression on her face, ignored Mary all evening and pretended to be reading, even though Mary caught her giving her several dirty looks.
At last, it was time to retire for the evening. As they changed into their nightgowns, Mary asked Ermengarde about the tall girl.
"Oh that's just Lavinia Herbert. She's not one of the nicer girls in this school," Ermengarde sniffed.
"She seems to dislike me already," Mary commented.
"She always is particularly nasty to any girl who is pretty. She likes being thought of as the prettiest girl in the school, and she hates competition," Ermengarde explained.
Mary froze. Ermengarde had just told her she was pretty. All of Mary's life, everyone around her had said that she was ugly. And although Mary had lost the pinched and yellow look she arrived with from India, she had never really believed she was pretty. To hear it from a new acquaintance, particularly from a peer, was a shocking revelation. She glanced surreptitiously in the looking glass, and she could see the changes in her face. Her hair, which had been so thin and lank when she arrived in England, was now lay thick and lustrous over her shoulders, a sunny golden color that complimented her hazel eyes. She was no longer too thin, but was still slender and healthy looking. Her skin was no longer yellow, but rosy. It had been easy to see these improvements, but Mary had never really noticed her delicate facial features or long dark eyelashes. Maybe she really was pretty after all. With this happy thought rattling in her head, she wished Ermengarde a good night and curled up under her blankets.
Mary began attending her lessons the next morning. Miss Rhys-Davies would have been proud to see that her young scholar was right at the top of all her classes, and Mary was pleased to find that she had no trouble learning her lessons. The same could not be said for Ermengarde, but Mary offered to help her, which made Ermengarde smile at the familiarity of the situation.
The next few weeks passed happily and quickly. Mary enjoyed her lessons, worked in her small garden patch, and grew closer to Ermengarde, and Lottie Leigh, a younger girl who Ermengarde treated as a younger sister. Even though Mary disliked Miss Minchin and felt the school was a little too formal and oppressive at times, she adjusted and began to enjoy herself.
The only cloud on the horizon was Lavinia. Mary made her formal acquaintance with her at the end of her first week when she came in from her garden plot. She was dressed in a plain brown dress, a dirt streaked apron, and old boots. Lavinia was coming down the stairs and saw Mary, noticing the smudges of dirt on her face.
"My my, unable to keep ourselves clean, are we?" she asked in a poisonously sweet voice.
"It's difficult to work in a garden and not get dirty," Mary answered her as politely as she could.
"Work in a garden? Why on earth would you want to work in a garden?" asked Lavinia in disbelief.
"It's nice to be outside, working hard and helping things grow," Mary answered defensively.
"Well, if you enjoy traipsing around in the muck and being confused with a servant, then by all means continue," sneered Lavinia.
"Yes. I think I will," said Mary as she brushed past the older girl and made her way to her room to wash up and change for dinner.
Mary found that some of the girls who were Lavinia's closer acquaintances (for Mary refuse d to believe that someone with so foul a personality could actually have friends) followed her lead in taunting and teasing Mary about her "common" hobby. If Mary had been a weaker willed girl it would have either caused her to break down in tears or stop gardening. But Mary was certainly not weak willed, and she wasn't going to let Lavinia or anyone else stop her from doing something she loved.
Mary told Colin and Dickon about this. She wrote both boys weekly, as well as her uncle. Colin wrote back sporadically, as he was not much of a correspondent, but Dickon's letters never failed to arrive at the beginning of each week. He often sent her pressed flowers he got from either the Secret Garden or the moor. Mary enjoyed his letters, as they kept her informed on the progress of the Secret Garden and the goings on around Misselthwaite. She could hardly wait for Christmas, and her first visit back to Yorkshire.