eleven, breakfast between nine and ten, and luncheon at two.
I enjoyed my dinner that evening hugely. The exquisite toilettes and low dresses surprised and delighted my susceptible nature. Every one was merry and free, and lessons were not mentioned.
That night I soon fell asleep; and so ended the day of my arrival at Downlands Hall.
CHAPTER 3
The next morning I woke up miserable. Since my father's servant who had brought me here had departed, I had not seen a single male about the place. My sensation of utter loneliness at the full realization of this fact, which was vividly borne in upon me on awaking, made me completely wretched. What would become of me amidst a pack of women and girls, with no companion in an uncongenial feminine atmosphere against which I instinctively revolted?
I anticipated that I should be shorn of my manhood and made effeminate and good-for-nothing, that my strength and virility would be suppressed. I worked myself into a passion of rage and resentment against my parents for putting me to such a position, and resolved to write at once and expostulate in strong terms. I did not understand then that this was the very discipline they considered desirable. I arose with rebellion surging in my breast, and with a determination to give battle at the earliest opportunity and to assert myself.
All my surroundings felt strange and unnatural to the last degree as I indignantly dressed myself; and when Elise came to show me the way to the breakfast room, the climax was reached, and I told her roughly that I could find my way there myself. She looked angry, but merely said she was to show me the way and she whispered something to Mademoiselle when we got there.
Mademoiselle and the girls were dressed in charmingly simple dresses, and looked so fresh and beautiful that, for the time, I completely forgot my isolation and resolutions. An opportunity for battle soon arose. There were two letters for me, and Mademoiselle actually took them and opened and read them before my eyes, and would not let me look at them, or even tell me from whom they came. She merely remarked that they did not need any reply, and that I was neither to write nor receive any letters without her express permission. I protested, remonstrated, and expostulated; but it was useless. The girls looked on amused, but never uttered a word. I could, in my fury, have burst into 12
tears and torn the letters from her. Mademoiselle remained quite collected and exasperatingly calm, gazing at me with a peculiar light in her eyes. I think she was revelling in my helpless raving and storming. She severely observed that I certainly did not know how to behave, and that she would give me a lesson afterwards in the schoolroom (at which I noticed the girls looked at each other very significantly), and bade me sit down, eat my breakfast, and hold my tongue, or that she would send me out of the room. I saw there was nothing else for it, so, very crestfallen, I at last sat down.
The hour for assembling in the schoolroom was half-past ten, so Mademoiselle told me when I had finished and she added I might go.
'Let me have my letters,' I cried passionately. 'I will have them,' I added, walking up to the head of the table where she sat with them open in her right hand.
'No,' she answered very calmly, 'you shall not have them. Leave the room.'
A little after half-past ten, I sullenly made my way to the schoolroom. Mademoiselle had not arrived, but the girls were there.
'Oh, Julian!' said Beatrice, looking up from the Dante she was conning over. 'You will catch it! How ever could you be so rude and violent?'
'Catch it!' I rejoined. 'What do you mean? I have a perfect right to my own letters; and I call her conduct dishonourable.'
'You won't talk like that in an hour or two, my boy,' remarked Maud from her easel in the window.
'A little smart feminine discipline will certainly make a great change,' chimed in Agnes, who was arranging some flowers.
'Nonsense,' said I, wildly. 'That she can't do!'
'Do!' they ejaculated in chorus. 'What can't she do?'
'I suppose,' added Maud, 'he has never heard of a riding whip. Mademoiselle has a horridly cruel little whip. Ay! How it bites!' and she laughed.
'Or of the regime of the stay-lace, or of fifty other ways young ladies have for breaking in refractory boys,' went on Agnes. 'Never mind,' in a tone of mock consolation, which maddened me, 'he will soon be initiated.'
'She whip me! At my age, and before you, girls! You must be mad to think she would dare to do such a thing. You are only laughing at me. I should fight. I am much stronger than she is.'
'You will like petticoats, however,' said Maud. 'You will find you have to submit to them. And she is sure to punish you in front of us. You will not have many clothes left to conceal your hidden charms: and if you turn out to have as nice a figure in reality as you seem to have now, I shall get Mademoiselle to let you pose for me as a model for an Apollo.'
'Julian,' said Beatrice, 'take my advice and submit quietly, dear boy. Your resistance will only make things worse.'
'I believe you're gone on him already, Bee,' laughed Agnes. 'Mind, you'll have to go shares!' At which they all laughed.
I was horrified and disgusted. Could such things be? My first impulse was to fly, to rush to my own room, lock myself in, get together a few necessaries, and escape.
But, at that moment, Mademoiselle entered, very determined-looking. She spoke a few words to each of the girls about their work, and then sat down in her low chair, very elegantly and gracefully.
'Now, Master Julian,' she said, 'you have to realize that I am your governess and that you are my absolute slave. Don't interrupt! From you I shall expect and shall exact the most implicit obedience and the most abject submission. You will tremble hereafter at the mere rustle of a petticoat; by it you are to be governed. If you are sufficiently foolish to continue your insubordination and the ridiculous temper you displayed this morning, it will be the worse for you.'
'Mademoiselle,' I broke in, 'I do not understand you; my father sent me here because I am too delicate for school.'
'And too unruly for home. Too indecent!' (at which I blushed). 'Too inquisitive! Too anxious to know what young ladies have under their petticoats.' (I was dumbfounded, and furtively glanced at the girls who were eagerly listening.) 'Yes! I know all about it. The petticoat will have its revenge now, and you will be under it in more senses than one for some time. Kneel down there at my feet.' (I hesitated, especially seeing the girls highly amused.) 'Kneel down at once,' she repeated, settling herself in her chair, and assuming a more erect attitude, 'and put your hands behind you.'
This was not very bad after all, and I felt so abashed and ashamed, and had so little to say for myself, that I complied somehow. Then Mademoiselle rang a hand bell.
'Elise,' she said, 'strap this boy's elbows behind his back as tightly as you can.'
Elise grasped me firmly by the upper part of the arm. I was surprised to feel her strength. The little resistance I made was soon overcome. I cannot describe the mixture of sensations I experienced with her standing over me, my head level with her waist, and at her pulling me about roughly as she delighted in executing Mademoiselle's order.
I noticed what Zola describes as 'a powerful feminine perfume'-the odor de femina.
At last two straps were buckled tightly round my arms, just above the elbows. In each strap was a small metal ring. Elise passed a white cord three or four times through these rings, and then proceeded to pull them as closely together as possible. Oh, how she hurt! I thought she would have broken my arms. I cried out, I resisted as much as I could, but the improvised pulley was too much for me. I writhed in my endeavours to get free, but she stood over me and kept me down.
'Tighter,' said Mademoiselle.
