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high windows in the wall opposite。
It was fascinating and horrible to Ursula。 The curious；
unliving light in the room changed her character。 She thought it
was the rainy morning。 Then she looked up again； because of the
horrid feeling of being shut in a rigid； inflexible air； away
from all feeling of the ordinary day； and she noticed that the
windows were of ribbed； suffused glass。
The prison was round her now！ She looked at the walls； colour
washed； pale green and chocolate； at the large windows with
frowsy geraniums against the pale glass； at the long rows of
desks； arranged in a squadron； and dread filled her。 This was a
new world； a new life； with which she was threatened。 But still
excited； she climbed into her chair at her teacher's desk。 It
was high； and her feet could not reach the ground； but must rest
on the step。 Lifted up there； off the ground； she was in office。
How queer； how queer it all was！ How different it was from the
mist of rain blowing over Cossethay。 As she thought of her own
village； a spasm of yearning crossed her； it seemed so far off；
so lost to her。
She was here in this hard； stark reality……reality。 It
was queer that she should call this the reality； which she had
never known till to…day； and which now so filled her with dread
and dislike； that she wished she might go away。 This was the
reality； and Cossethay； her beloved； beautiful； wellknown
Cossethay； which was as herself unto her； that was minor
reality。 This prison of a school was reality。 Here； then； she
would sit in state； the queen of scholars！ Here she would
realize her dream of being the beloved teacher bringing light
and joy to her children！ But the desks before her had an
abstract angularity that bruised her sentiment and made her
shrink。 She winced； feeling she had been a fool in her
anticipations。 She had brought her feelings and her generosity
to where neither generosity nor emotion were wanted。 And already
she felt rebuffed； troubled by the new atmosphere； out of
place。
She slid down； and they returned to the teacher's room。 It
was queer to feel that one ought to alter one's personality。 She
was nobody； there was no reality in herself； the reality was all
outside of her； and she must apply herself to it。
Mr。 Harby was in the teachers' room； standing before a big；
open cupboard； in which Ursula could see piles of pink
blotting…paper； heaps of shiny new books； boxes of chalk； and
bottles of coloured inks。 It looked a treasure store。
The schoolmaster was a short； sturdy man； with a fine head；
and a heavy jowl。 Nevertheless he was good…looking； with his
shapely brows and nose； and his great； hanging moustache。 He
seemed absorbed in his work； and took no notice of Ursula's
entry。 There was something insulting in the way he could be so
actively unaware of another person； so occupied。
When he had a moment of absence； he looked up from the table
and said good…morning to Ursula。 There was a pleasant light in
his brown eyes。 He seemed very manly and incontrovertible； like
something she wanted to push over。
〃You had a wet walk；〃 he said to Ursula。
〃Oh； I don't mind； I'm used to it；〃 she replied； with a
nervous little laugh。
But already he was not listening。 Her words sounded
ridiculous and babbling。 He was taking no notice of her。
〃You will sign your name here；〃 he said to her； as if she
were some child……〃and the time when you e and go。〃
Ursula signed her name in the time book and stood back。 No
one took any further notice of her。 She beat her brains for
something to say； but in vain。
〃I'd let them in now；〃 said Mr。 Harby to the thin man； who
was very hastily arranging his papers。
The assistant teacher made no sign of acquiescence； and went
on with what he was doing。 The atmosphere in the room grew
tense。 At the last moment Mr。 Brunt slipped into his coat。
〃You will go to the girls' lobby；〃 said the schoolmaster to
Ursula； with a fascinating； insulting geniality； purely official
and domineering。
She went out and found Miss Harby； and another girl teacher；
in the porch。 On the asphalt yard the rain was falling。 A
toneless bell tang…tang…tanged drearily overhead； monotonously；
insistently。 It came to an end。 Then Mr。 Brunt was seen；
bare…headed； standing at the other gate of the school yard；
blowing shrill blasts on a whistle and looking down the rainy；
dreary street。
Boys in gangs and streams came trotting up； running past the
master and with a loud clatter of feet and voices； over the yard
to the boys' porch。 Girls were running and walking through the
other entrance。
In the porch where Ursula stood there was a great noise of
girls； who were tearing off their coats and hats； and hanging
them on the racks bristling with pegs。 There was a smell of wet
clothing； a tossing out of wet； draggled hair； a noise of voices
and feet。
The mass of girls grew greater； the rage around the pegs grew
steadier； the scholars tended to fall into little noisy gangs in
the porch。 Then Violet Harby clapped her hands； clapped them
louder； with a shrill 〃Quiet； girls； quiet！〃
There was a pause。 The hubbub died down but did not
cease。
〃What did I say？〃 cried Miss Harby； shrilly。
There was almost plete silence。 Sometimes a girl； rather
late； whirled into the porch and flung off her things。
〃Leaders……in place；〃 manded Miss Harby shrilly。
Pairs of girls in pinafores and long hair stood separate in
the porch。
〃Standard Four； Five； and Six……fall in；〃 cried Miss
Harby。
There was a hubbub； which gradually resolved itself into
three columns of girls； two and two； standing smirking in the
passage。 In among the peg…racks； other teachers were putting the
lower classes into ranks。
Ursula stood by her own Standard Five。 They were jerking
their shoulders； tossing their hair； nudging； writhing； staring；
grinning； whispering and twisting。
A sharp whistle was heard； and Standard Six； the biggest
girls； set off； led by Miss Harby。 Ursula； with her Standard
Five； followed after。 She stood beside a smirking； grinning row
of girls； waiting in a narrow passage。 What she was herself she
did not know。
Suddenly the sound of a piano was heard； and Standard Six set
off hollowly down the big room。 The boys had entered by another
door。 The piano played on； a march tune； Standard Five followed
to the door of the big room。 Mr。 Harby was seen away beyond at
his desk。 Mr。 Brunt guarded the other door of the room。 Ursula's
class pushed up。 She stood near them。 They glanced and smirked
and shoved。
〃Go on；〃 said Ursula。
They tittered。
〃Go on；〃 said Ursula； for the piano continued。
The girls broke loosely into the room。 Mr。 Harby； who had
seemed immersed in some occupation； away at his desk； lifted his
head and thundered：
〃Halt！〃
There was a halt； the piano stopped。 The boys who were just
starting through the other door； pushed back。 The harsh； subdued
voice of Mr。 Brunt was heard； then the booming shout of Mr。
Harby； from far down the room：
〃Who told Standard Five girls to e in like that？〃
Ursula crimsoned。 Her girls were glancing up at her； smirking
their accusation。
〃I sent them in； Mr。 Harby；〃 she said； in a clear； struggling
voice。 There was a moment of silence。 Then Mr。 Harby roared from
the distance。
〃Go back to your places； Standard Five girls。〃
The girls glanced up at Ursula； accusing； rather jeering；
fugitive。 They pushed back。 Ursula's heart hardened with
ignominious pain。
〃Forward……march；〃 came Mr。 Brunt's voice； and the girls
set off； keeping time with the ranks of boys。
Ursula faced her class； some fifty…five boys and girls； who
stood filling the ranks of the desks。 She felt utterly
nonexistent。 She had no place nor being there。 She faced the
block of children。
Down the room she heard the rapid firing of questions。 She
stood before her class not knowing what to do。 She waited
painfully。 Her block of children； fifty unknown faces； watched
her； hostile； ready to jeer。 She felt as if she were in torture
over a fire of faces。 And on every side she was naked to them。
Of unutterable length and torture the seconds went by。
Then she gathered courage。 She heard Mr。 Brunt asking
questions in mental arithmetic。 She stood near to her class； so
that her voice need not be raised too much； and faltering；
uncertain； she said：
〃Seven hats at twopence ha'penny each？〃
A grin went over the faces of the class； seeing her mence。
She was red and suffering。 Then some hands shot up like blades；
and she asked for the answer。
The day passed incredibly slowly。 She never knew what to do；
there came horrible gaps； when she was merely exposed to the
children； and when； relying on some pert little girl for
information； she had started a lesson； she did not know how to
go on with it properly。 The children were her masters。 She
deferred to them。 She could always hear Mr。 Brunt。 Like a
machine； always in the same hard； high； inhuman voice he went on
with his teaching； oblivious of everything。 And before this
inhuman number of children she was always at bay。 She could not
get away from it。 There it was； this class of fifty collective
children； depending on her for mand； for mand i