“Perhaps you would join us in … say, an hour?”
“Oh, thank you, sir,” said James.
I knew what my father was doing. He was giving them a little time alone. It was amusing to think of my father playing Cupid.
I was taken to his room which I had never seen before. It was lined with books from floor to high ceiling, and there were several glass-doored cabinets which contained all sorts of objects such as stones covered in hieroglyphics and there were some carved images.
“This is the first time you have seen where I work,” he said.
“Yes, Father.”
“I am pleased that you are displaying some interest. We do wonderful work here. If you had been a boy I should have wanted you to follow me.”
I felt I ought to apologize for and defend my sex.
“Like my mother .. ” I began.
“She is an exceptional woman.”
Yes, of course. I could hardly aspire to that. Exceptional I was not.
I had spent my happy childhood with people below stairs who had entertained me, loved me, and made me contented with my lot.
As the embarrassment which our encounters never failed to engender seemed to be building up, he plunged into a description of embalming processes to which I listened entranced, all the time marvelling that I was in the British Museum talking to my father.
Felicity and James Grafton eventually joined us. It was an unusual morning, but by this time I had realized that change was on the way.
Very soon after that Felicity became engaged to James Grafton. I was both excited and apprehensive. It was good to see Felicity so happy and to know something which had never occurred to me until Mrs. Harlow pointed it out, that she was secure.
But there was, of course, the question of what would become of me.
My parents were taking more interest in me, which was in itself disconcerting. I had been discovered by my father showing interest in the exhibits in the Egyptian Room of the British Museum. We had had a little talk in his room there. I was not exactly the ignoramus they had previously thought me. I had a brain which had lain dormant for all these years but I might possibly grow up to be one of them.
Felicity was to be married in March of the following year. I had passed my thirteenth birthday. Felicity was to stay with us until a week before the marriage; then she would go to the house of Professor Wills, who had been responsible for her admission into our household, and from there be married; and in due course she and James would set up house in Oxford to whose university he was attached. The big question was what course should my education now take?
Having received a gift of money from her uncle. Felicity was now able to indulge in replenishing her scanty wardrobe, a task in which I
joined with great enthusiasm, though never quite able to escape from the big question of my future and the prospect of facing the emptiness which her departure must inevitably mean.
I tried to imagine what it would be like without her. She had become part of my life, and closer even than the others. Would there be a new governess of the more traditional sort at cross purposes with Mrs. Harlow and the rest? There was only one Felicity in the world and I had been lucky to have her with me all those years. But there is little comfort in recalling past luck which is about to be snatched away so that the future looks uncertain.
It was about three weeks before the date fixed for the wedding when my parents sent for me.
Since my meeting with my father in the British Museum there had been a subtle change in our relationship. They had certainly become more interested in me and in spite of the fact that I had always told myself I was happy to be without their attention, I was now faintly pleased to have it.
“Rosetta,” said my mother.
“Your father and I have decided that it is time you went away to school.”
This was not unexpected, of course. Felicity had talked to me about it.
“It’s a distinct possibility,” she had said, ‘and really it’s the best thing. Governesses are all very well but you’ll meet people of your own age, and you will enjoy that. “
I could not believe I would enjoy anything as much as being with her and I told her so.
She hugged me tightly.
“There’ll be holidays and you can come and stay with us.”
I remembered that now, so I was prepared.
“Gresham’s is a very good school,” said my father.
“It has been highly recommended. I think it will be most suitable.”
“You will be going there in September,” went on my mother.
“It’s the start of the term. There will be certain preparations. Then there is Nanny Pollock, of course.”
Nanny Pollock! So I was to lose her, too. I felt a great sadness. I remembered those loving arms . those whispered endearments, the comfort I had received.
“We shall give her a good reference,” said my mother.
“She has been excellent,” added my father. Changes changes all around. And the only one who was moving to a happier state was Felicity. There was always some good in everything, Mr. Dolland had said. But how I hated change.
The weeks passed too quickly. Every morning I awoke with an uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach. The future loomed before me, unfamiliar and therefore alarming. I had lived too long in unruffled serenity.
Nanny Pollock was very sad.
“It always comes,” she said.
“Little chicks don’t stay that way forever. You’ve cared for them like they was your own … and then comes the day. They’ve grown up. They’re not your babies any more.”
“Oh Nanny, Nanny. I’ll never forget you.”
“Nor I you, lovey. I’ve had my pets, but them upstairs being as they are made you more my little baby … if you know what I mean.”
“I do. Nanny.”
“It’s not that they was cruel … or hard-hearted … no, none of that. They was just absentminded, like … so deep in all that unnatural writing and what it means and all those kings and queens kept in their coffins all them years. It was unhealthy as well as unnatural and I never did think much of it. Little babies is more important than a lot of dead kings and queens and all the signs they made because they didn’t know how to write properly.”
I laughed and she was glad to see me smile.
She cheered up a little.
“I’m all right,” she said.
“I’ve got a cousin in Somerset. Keeps her own chickens. I always like a real fresh egg for breakfast… laid that morning. I might go to her. I don’t feel like taking on another… but I might. Anyway, there’s no worry on that score. Your mother says not to hurry. I can stay here if I want till I find something I like.”
At length Felicity was married from the house of Professor Wills in Oxford. I went down with my parents for the wedding. We drank the health of the newly married pair and I saw Felicity in her strawberry-coloured going away costume which I had seen before and in fact helped her to choose. She looked radiant and I told myself I must be glad for her while feeling sorry for myself.
When I returned to London they wanted to know all about the wedding.
“She must have made a lovely bride,” said Mrs. Harlow.
“I hope she’s happy. God bless her. She deserves to be. You never know with them professors. They’re funny things.”
“Like governesses, you used to say,” I reminded her.
“Well, I reckon she wasn’t a real governess. She was one on her own.”
Mr. Dolland said we should all drink to the health and happiness of the happy pair. So we did.
The conversation was doleful. Nanny Pollock had almost decided to go to her cousin in Somerset for a spell. She had drunk a little too much wine and had become maudlin.
