children； depending on her for mand； for mand it hated and
resented。 It made her feel she could not breathe： she must
suffocate； it was so inhuman。 They were so many； that they were
not children。 They were a squadron。 She could not speak as she
would to a child； because they were not individual children；
they were a collective； inhuman thing。
Dinner…time came； and stunned； bewildered； solitary； she went
into the teachers' room for dinner。 Never had she felt such a
stranger to life before。 It seemed to her she had just
disembarked from some strange horrible state where everything
was as in hell； a condition of hard； malevolent system。 And she
was not really free。 The afternoon drew at her like some
bondage。
The first week passed in a blind confusion。 She did not know
how to teach； and she felt she never would know。 Mr。 Harby came
down every now and then to her class； to see what she was doing。
She felt so inpetent as he stood by； bullying and
threatening； so unreal； that she wavered； became neutral and
non…existent。 But he stood there watching with the
listening…genial smile of the eyes； that was really threatening；
he said nothing； he made her go on teaching； she felt she had no
soul in her body。 Then he went away； and his going was like a
derision。 The class was his class。 She was a wavering
substitute。 He thrashed and bullied； he was hated。 But he was
master。 Though she was gentle and always considerate of her
class； yet they belonged to Mr。 Harby； and they did not belong
to her。 Like some invincible source of the mechanism he kept all
power to himself。 And the class owned his power。 And in school
it was power； and power alone that mattered。
Soon Ursula came to dread him； and at the bottom of her dread
was a seed of hate； for she despised him； yet he was master of
her。 Then she began to get on。 All the other teachers hated him；
and fanned their hatred among themselves。 For he was master of
them and the children； he stood like a wheel to make absolute
his authority over the herd。 That seemed to be his one reason in
life； to hold blind authority over the school。 His teachers were
his subjects as much as the scholars。 Only； because they had
some authority； his instinct was to detest them。
Ursula could not make herself a favourite with him。 From the
first moment she set hard against him。 She set against Violet
Harby also。 Mr。 Harby was； however； too much for her； he was
something she could not e to grips with； something too strong
for her。 She tried to approach him as a young； bright girl
usually approaches a man； expecting a little chivalrous
courtesy。 But the fact that she was a girl； a woman； was ignored
or used as a matter for contempt against her。 She did not know
what she was； nor what she must be。 She wanted to remain her own
responsive； personal self。
So she taught on。 She made friends with the Standard Three
teacher； Maggie Schofield。 Miss Schofield was about twenty years
old； a subdued girl who held aloof from the other teachers。 She
was rather beautiful； meditative； and seemed to live in another；
lovelier world。
Ursula took her dinner to school； and during the second week
ate it in Miss Schofield's room。 Standard Three classroom stood
by itself and had windows on two sides； looking on to the
playground。 It was a passionate relief to find such a retreat in
the jarring school。 For there were pots of chrysanthemums and
coloured leaves； and a big jar of berries： there were pretty
little pictures on the wall； photogravure reproductions from
Greuze； and Reynolds's 〃Age of Innocence〃； giving an air of
intimacy； so that the room； with its window space； its smaller；
tidier desks； its touch of pictures and flowers； made Ursula at
once glad。 Here at last was a little personal touch； to which
she could respond。
It was Monday。 She had been at school a week and was getting
used to the surroundings； though she was still an entire
foreigner in herself。 She looked forward to having dinner with
Maggie。 That was the bright spot in the day。 Maggie was so
strong and remote； walking with slow； sure steps down a hard
road； carrying the dream within her。 Ursula went through the
class teaching as through a meaningless daze。
Her class tumbled out at midday in haphazard fashion。 She did
not realize what host she was gathering against herself by her
superior tolerance； her kindness and her laisseraller。 They were
gone； and she was rid of them； and that was all。 She hurried
away to the teachers' room。
Mr。 Brunt was crouching at the small stove； putting a little
rice pudding into the oven。 He rose then； and attentively poked
in a small saucepan on the hob with a fork。 Then he replaced the
saucepan lid。
〃Aren't they done？〃 asked Ursula gaily； breaking in on his
tense absorption。
She always kept a bright； blithe manner； and was pleasant to
all the teachers。 For she felt like the swan among the geese； of
superior heritage and belonging。 And her pride at being the swan
in this ugly school was not yet abated。
〃Not yet；〃 replied Mr。 Brunt； laconic。
〃I wonder if my dish is hot；〃 she said； bending down at the
oven。 She half expected him to look for her； but he took no
notice。 She was hungry and she poked her finger eagerly in the
pot to see if her brussels sprouts and potatoes and meat were
ready。 They were not。
〃Don't you think it's rather jolly bringing dinner？〃 she said
to Mr。 Brunt。
〃I don't know as I do；〃 he said； spreading a serviette on a
corner of the table； and not looking at her。
〃I suppose it is too far for you to go home？〃
〃Yes；〃 he said。 Then he rose and looked at her。 He had the
bluest； fiercest； most pointed eyes that she had ever met。 He
stared at her with growing fierceness。
〃If I were you； Miss Brangwen；〃 he said； menacingly； 〃I
should get a bit tighter hand over my class。〃
Ursula shrank。
〃Would you？〃 she asked； sweetly； yet in terror。 〃Aren't I
strict enough？〃
〃Because；〃 he repeated； taking no notice of her； 〃they'll get
you down if you don't tackle 'em pretty quick。 They'll pull you
down； and worry you； till Harby gets you shifted……that's
how it'll be。 You won't be here another six weeks〃……and he
filled his mouth with food……〃if you don't tackle 'em and
tackle 'em quick。〃
〃Oh； but〃 Ursula said； resentfully； ruefully。
The terror was deep in her。
〃Harby'll not help you。 This is what he'll do……he'll let
you go on； getting worse and worse； till either you clear out or
he clears you out。 It doesn't matter to me； except that you'll
leave a class behind you as I hope I shan't have to cope
with。〃
She heard the accusation in the man's voice； and felt
condemned。 But still； school had not yet bee a definite
reality to her。 She was shirking it。 It was reality； but it was
all outside her。 And she fought against Mr。 Brunt's
representation。 She did not want to realize。
〃Will it be so terrible？〃 she said； quivering； rather
beautiful； but with a slight touch of condescension； because she
would not betray her own trepidation。
〃Terrible？〃 said the man； turning to his potatoes again。 〃I
dunno about terrible。〃
〃I do feel frightened；〃 said Ursula。 〃The children seem
so〃
〃What？〃 said Miss Harby； entering at that moment。
〃Why；〃 said Ursula； 〃Mr。 Brunt says I ought to tackle my
class；〃 and she laughed uneasily。
〃Oh； you have to keep order if you want to teach；〃 said Miss
Harby； hard； superior； trite。
Ursula did not answer。 She felt non valid before them。
〃If you want to be let to live； you have；〃 said Mr。
Brunt。
〃Well； if you can't keep order； what good are you？〃 said Miss
Harby。
〃An' you've got to do it by yourself；〃……his voice rose
like the bitter cry of the prophets。 〃You'll get no help
from anybody。〃
〃Oh； indeed！〃 said Miss Harby。 〃Some people can't be helped。〃
And she departed。
The air of hostility and disintegration； of wills working in
antagonistic subordination； was hideous。 Mr。 Brunt； subordinate；
afraid； acid with shame； frightened her。 Ursula wanted to run。
She only wanted to clear out； not to understand。
Then Miss Schofield came in； and with her another； more
restful note。 Ursula at once turned for confirmation to the
newer。 Maggie remained personal within all this unclean
system of authority。
〃Is the big Anderson here？〃 she asked of Mr。 Brunt。 And they
spoke of some affair about two scholars； coldly； officially。
Miss Schofield took her brown dish； and Ursula followed with
her own。 The cloth was laid in the pleasant Standard Three room；
there was a jar with two or three monthly roses on the
table。
〃It is so nice in here； you have made it different；〃
said Ursula gaily。 But she was afraid。 The atmosphere of the
school was upon her。
〃The big room；〃 said Miss Schofield； 〃ha； it's misery to be
in it！〃
She too spoke with bitterness。 She too lived in the
ignominious position of an upper servant hated by the master
above and the class beneath。 She was； she knew； liable to attack
from either side at any minute； or from both at once； for the
authorities would listen to the plaints of parents； and both
would turn round on the mongrel authority； the teacher。
So there was a hard； bitter withholding in Maggie Schofield
ev