Rachel's Story

Chapter 6

CHAPTER 6

The first class went off better than Rachel had expected. The two girls were eager to please, and Rachel’s approval and genial attitude was evidently enough for them to lose all stiffness from their behavior within minutes. Rachel won their hearts when, instead of scolding them for littering the schoolroom floor with paper, she bent down to examine a few and declared them to be very well done indeed. Her quick eyes noticed that not only were the pictures of definite artistic merit, they all formed a progressive story rather than being random images culled from memory.

With a delighted cry, she turned towards Alicia. “This is such a good concept, Miss Alicia, and the etchings are so well-done, too! You must have been drawing since a long time, to have developed such a fine technique. How did you get the idea to create a story through images?”

Stammering and blushing furiously, Alicia admitted that she had been drawing since she was five years old, and that her illustrations persist in appearing in the form of stories rather than as individual scenes. She picked up all the pages and was preparing to stow them away in her desk, when Rachel put a kind hand on her shoulder and asked gently, “Can I see the rest of the pictures too later? I would love to see where your story goes.”

Leaving her shuffling her feet in pleased embarrassment, Rachel turned towards Diana. She noted the gratefulness in her eyes for the kindness shown to her sister, which instantly morphed into a slight nervousness as she realized that the attention was now on her.

“I presume you are Miss Diana? As you already know, I am Miss Rachel Warren. Can you tell me something about the standards of work you have been used to till now?”

Diana started explaining about the kinds of stitch-work that she and her sister could create, their progress with different languages and the songs which they could play on the little pianoforte standing in a corner of the room. She became more animated as she became sure of her subject and audience, and Rachel’s astute questions about her likes and dislikes brought out her enthusiasm in full force. Alicia had also crept out of her shyness to hear what the older girls were talking about, and Rachel finally addressed them both.

“Well, I hope that we will all get along very well together, and not just for academic purposes either. I would love to be friends with you both. Will you grant me the pleasure, Miss Diana and Miss Alicia?”

Two bobbing heads were her response – one grave and the other enthusiastic. With a light heart, Rachel shook their hands and proceeded to discuss their progress with the samplers they were embroidering.

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By the end of the first class, Rachel knew certain things about her pupils. They were both good at embroidery and crotchet, but Diana could rarely manage to sit still for the time required of such an activity. They were sweet-tempered and ready to look up to Rachel as the teacher, in spite of the short gap between their years; but, as Diana instantly made evident, they were not averse to questioning Rachel about the subjects and her personal reactions to the topics. While Diana seemed more interested in the outdoors and often unconsciously turned towards the curtained window as a sunflower groping towards the sun, Alicia was an indoors kind of person who preferred to sit still and work at art or her studies.

Surprisingly enough she loved history, but it was a secret passion as she thought it to be an unladylike subject. Her astonishment on learning of Rachel’s similar inclinations and vast knowledge about British history was almost comical in its intensity.

“But Miss Warren, who taught you so much about the living conditions during the Tudor period? And how did you know about all the kings who fought in the Hundred Years’ War?” In a whisper so low that Rachel almost suspected that Alicia had not meant her to hear at all, she added, “how can you admit to knowing these things?”

Rachel replied cheerfully, “Oh, the manor house in our parish had a nice collection of books dealing with British history in detail. I used to coax and cajole the old caretaker to allow me entry into the library every afternoon, and I used to sit inside that white-sheeted mausoleum of a room for hours while the light lasted. But it was all worth it in the end, as you can see. I like reading about the society of a period rather than the wars fought during that time, but since wars are an important part of history and also affect the lives of people, they have their own charm for me.”

Her voice softened as she gazed at the earnest face turned towards her. “And it is no shame to admit to knowledge, Alicia. Never let anyone fool you about that. People might say that a girl’s only goal in life should be marriage and that men prefer their wives to be less educated than themselves, but I always believe that we owe it to ourselves to cultivate whatever gifts God has given us. If the gifts lie in the direction of education, they should be given as much importance as a penchant for, say, singing or playing the piano. If you do not carry out your heart’s desire and overlook God’s gift today, a day may come when you cannot meet the eyes of the person standing in your mirror. That will be a sad day indeed, don’t you agree?”

Their eyes wide open, the two girls looked at her with identical expressions of wondrous awe and nodded slowly. Without her knowledge, Rachel had created two devoted followers for life.

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The rest of the day dragged on at a more languid pace. Lunch was a cozy affair in the privacy of the schoolroom, during which the two girls chattered away to Rachel about their life in Denbries; at least, Diana chattered and Alicia added the rare comment on occasion. They felt sad for Rachel on hearing about her father’s death and the family’s subsequent move to London under reduced circumstances, but they loved to listen to the nineteen-year old’s anecdotes about her previous life in Little Hanstead. They remained laughing at the stories of the twins’ antics with their gang of friends long after lunch was over, and compared Rachel’s description of the woods near her old home with the trees in the woods behind Denbries during their evening walk. They remained blissfully unaware that they had just got an impromptu lesson in botany.

It was during this walk that Rachel got to hear the story which Alicia was crafting in ink at her desk in the morning. She was charmed to find that the solemn little girl had a vivid imagination mature beyond her years, and though simple in subject, her stories were intricately woven and full of vibrant details. So tangible were her ideas, and so quiet was Alicia as a person, that she gave them utterance through her sketches rather than her voice. She drew each scene as she saw it and therefore, her stories were comprised of dozens of little pictures. The two ink paintings livening up Rachel’s room were done by her as well, but they were among her rarer pictures which were of still life and therefore, complete in themselves. Rachel decided then and there to teach her younger student how to use words creatively as well, but never to stifle the natural flow of thoughts which seemed to occur in ink strokes for the unique child.

Looking back at the house from the woods, Rachel saw that it was a pleasant pile of honey-coloured bricks in the shape of a horseshoe, with the garden in the centre of the semicircular space instead of the courtyard usual in such cases. It was literally glowing at the moment with the sun’s dying rays positioned behind it, and the flowers were blazing their colours forth in the golden light. It was aesthetically pleasing and she felt proud to be a part of a house which was undoubtedly old and had seen many things. In this beautiful moment, she almost laughed out loud on remembering her unjustified sense of disquiet the night before.

As the day wound to an end, Rachel pondered about where to eat her dinner. She could continue her pleasant acquaintance with the girls whom she was starting to like more by the minute. On the other hand, it would be just as well not to push any new relationship too much the first day, and giving each other space was something which she wanted to cultivate from the beginning. That of course left the option of dining in her room open, but after some thought Rachel decided to eat with the domestic staff. She still had not met everyone and the kitchen table would be an admirable place to see them all together. Besides, she admitted to herself while changing into a simple green frock for the occasion, Andrew Fairfax would be there – and she wanted to get to the bottom of the tiny puzzle regarding his voice.