The Rainbow-虹(英文版)-第70部分

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deserted；　like　an　empty　prison　waiting　the　return　of　tramping
feet。

Ursula　went　forward　to　the　teachers'　room　that　burrowed　in　a
gloomy　hole。　She　knocked　timidly。

〃e　in！〃　called　a　surprised　man's　voice；　as　from　a　prison
cell。　She　entered　the　dark　little　room　that　never　got　any　sun。
The　gas　was　lighted　naked　and　raw。　At　the　table　a　thin　man　in
shirt…sleeves　was　rubbing　a　paper　on　a　jellytray。　He　looked　up
at　Ursula　with　his　narrow；　sharp　face；　said　〃Good　morning；〃　then
turned　away　again；　and　stripped　the　paper　off　the　tray；　glancing
at　the　violet…coloured　writing　transferred；　before　he　dropped
the　curled　sheet　aside　among　a　heap。

Ursula　watched　him　fascinated。　In　the　gaslight　and　gloom　and
the　narrowness　of　the　room；　all　seemed　unreal。

〃Isn't　it　a　nasty　morning；〃　she　said。

〃Yes；〃　he　said；　〃it's　not　much　of　weather。〃

But　in　here　it　seemed　that　neither　morning　nor　weather　really
existed。　This　place　was　timeless。　He　spoke　in　an　occupied　voice；
like　an　echo。　Ursula　did　not　know　what　to　say。　She　took　off　her
waterproof。

〃Am　I　early？〃　she　asked。

The　man　looked　first　at　a　little　clock；　then　at　her。　His　eyes
seemed　to　be　sharpened　to　needle…points　of　vision。

〃Twenty…five　past；〃　he　said。　〃You're　the　second　to　e。　I'm
first　this　morning。〃

Ursula　sat　down　gingerly　on　the　edge　of　a　chair；　and　watched
his　thin　red　hands　rubbing　away　on　the　white　surface　of　the
paper；　then　pausing；　pulling　up　a　corner　of　the　sheet；　peering；
and　rubbing　away　again。　There　was　a　great　heap　of　curled
white…and…scribbled　sheets　on　the　table。

〃Must　you　do　so　many？〃　asked　Ursula。

Again　the　man　glanced　up　sharply。　He　was　about　thirty　or
thirty…three　years　old；　thin；　greenish；　with　a　long　nose　and　a
sharp　face。　His　eyes　were　blue；　and　sharp　as　points　of　steel；
rather　beautiful；　the　girl　thought。

〃Sixty…three；〃　he　answered。

〃So　many！〃　she　said；　gently。　Then　she　remembered。

〃But　they're　not　all　for　your　class；　are　they？〃　she
added。

〃Why　aren't　they？〃　he　replied；　a　fierceness　in　his　voice。

Ursula　was　rather　frightened　by　his　mechanical　ignoring　of
her；　and　his　directness　of　statement。　It　was　something　new　to
her。　She　had　never　been　treated　like　this　before；　as　if　she　did
not　count；　as　if　she　were　addressing　a　machine。

〃It　is　too　many；〃　she　said　sympathetically。

〃You'll　get　about　the　same；〃　he　said。

That　was　all　she　received。　She　sat　rather　blank；　not　knowing
how　to　feel。　Still　she　liked　him。　He　seemed　so　cross。　There　was
a　queer；　sharp；　keen…edge　feeling　about　him　that　attracted　her
and　frightened　her　at　the　same　time。　It　was　so　cold；　and　against
his　nature。

The　door　opened；　and　a　short；　neutral…tinted　young　woman　of
about　twenty…eight　appeared。

〃Oh；　Ursula！〃　the　newer　exclaimed。　〃You　are　here　early！　My
word；　I'll　warrant　you　don't　keep　it　up。　That's　Mr。　Williamson's
peg。　This　is　yours。　Standard　Five　teacher　always　has　this。
Aren't　you　going　to　take　your　hat　off？〃

Miss　Violet　Harby　removed　Ursula's　waterproof　from　the　peg　on
which　it　was　hung；　to　one　a　little　farther　down　the　row。　She　had
already　snatched　the　pins　from　her　own　stuff　hat；　and　jammed
them　through　her　coat。　She　turned　to　Ursula；　as　she　pushed　up
her　frizzed；　flat；　dun…coloured　hair。

〃Isn't　it　a　beastly　morning；〃　she　exclaimed；　〃beastly！　And　if
there's　one　thing　I　hate　above　another　it's　a　wet　Monday
morning；……pack　of　kids　trailing　in　anyhow…nohow；　and　no
holding　'em〃

She　had　taken　a　black　pinafore　from　a　newspaper　package；　and
was　tying　it　round　her　waist。

〃You've　brought　an　apron；　haven't　you？〃　she　said　jerkily；
glancing　at　Ursula。　〃Oh……you'll　want　one。　You've　no　idea
what　a　sight　you'll　look　before　half…past　four；　what　with　chalk
and　ink　and　kids'　dirty　feet。……Well；　I　can　send　a　boy　down
to　mamma's　for　one。〃

〃Oh；　it　doesn't　matter；〃　said　Ursula。

〃Oh；　yes……I　can　send　easily；〃　cried　Miss　Harby。

Ursula's　heart　sank。　Everybody　seemed　so　cocksure　and　so
bossy。　How　was　she　going　to　get　on　with　such　jolty；　jerky；　bossy
people？　And　Miss　Harby　had　not　spoken　a　word　to　the　man　at　the
table。　She　simply　ignored　him。　Ursula　felt　the　callous　crude
rudeness　between　the　two　teachers。

The　two　girls　went　out　into　the　passage。　A　few　children　were
already　clattering　in　the　porch。

〃Jim　Richards；〃　called　Miss　Harby；　hard　and　authoritative。　A
boy　came　sheepishly　forward。

〃Shall　you　go　down　to　our　house　for　me；　eh？〃　said　Miss　Harby；
in　a　manding；　condescending；　coaxing　voice。　She　did　not　wait
for　an　answer。　〃Go　down　and　ask　mamma　to　send　me　one　of　my
school　pinas；　for　Miss　Brangwen……shall　you？〃

The　boy　muttered　a　sheepish　〃Yes；　miss；〃　and　was　moving
away。

〃Hey；〃　called　Miss　Harby。　〃e　here……now　what　are　you
going　for？　What　shall　you　say　to　mamma？〃

〃A　school　pina〃　muttered　the　boy。

〃'Please；　Mrs。　Harby；　Miss　Harby　says　will　you　send　her
another　school　pinafore　for　Miss　Brangwen；　because　she's　e
without　one。'〃

〃Yes；　miss；〃　muttered　the　boy；　head　ducked；　and　was　moving
off。　Miss　Harby　caught　him　back；　holding　him　by　the
shoulder。

〃What　are　you　going　to　say？〃

〃Please；　Mrs。　Harby；　Miss　Harby　wants　a　pinny　for　Miss
Brangwin；〃　muttered　the　boy　very　sheepishly。

〃Miss　Brangwen！〃　laughed　Miss　Harby；　pushing　him　away。　〃Here；
you'd　better　have　my　umbrella……wait　a　minute。〃

The　unwilling　boy　was　rigged　up　with　Miss　Harby's　umbrella；
and　set　off。

〃Don't　take　long　over　it；〃　called　Miss　Harby；　after　him。　Then
she　turned　to　Ursula；　and　said　brightly：

〃Oh；　he's　a　caution；　that　lad……but　not　bad；　you
know。〃

〃No；〃　Ursula　agreed；　weakly。

The　latch　of　the　door　clicked；　and　they　entered　the　big　room。
Ursula　glanced　down　the　place。　Its　rigid；　long　silence　was
official　and　chilling。　Half…way　down　was　a　glass　partition；　the
doors　of　which　were　open。　A　clock　ticked　re…echoing；　and　Miss
Harby's　voice　sounded　double　as　she　said：

〃This　is　the　big　room……Standard
Five…Six…and…Seven。……Here's　your
place……Five〃

She　stood　in　the　near　end　of　the　great　room。　There　was　a
small　high　teacher's　desk　facing　a　squadron　of　long　benches；　two
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　M