Page:The Lark - E Nesbit, 1922.djvu/21

22 long and perilous journey merely to embarrass him in his Eastern housekeeping—and, to the trustee, school seemed, for a thousand reasons, the best place for Lucilla and Jane. So at school they had stayed, and knitted socks and sweaters for the army and navy, and heard selections from the papers read aloud by careful governesses, seeing and hearing as little of the war as any English-speaking young women in the world. Of course they thrilled at our disasters, triumphed in our successes, pitied and prayed for the poor soldiers and sailors, execrated our enemies, and idealised our Allies. But it was all to them very far away; it hardly came near them never touched them, till Jane's father died like a hero in Mesopotamia, leaving her his heroism to glorify her sorrow. Even then it was only as though an echo of the thunder of the waves of war had somehow reached the quiet, ordered house in Devonshire.

When the war ended Jane was nineteen. She felt incredibly grown-up. For two years she and Lucilla had devoted the whole of their fortnightly letters to their trustee—now their guardian—to entreaties to be allowed to leave school.

"And he never takes the least notice," Jane said to Lucilla on the first day of the summer holidays; "he just sends boxes of chocs., and bottles of scent, and embroidered handkerchiefs, and books and things, and tells us to be good girls and complete our studies and fit ourselves for the battle of life. Not much battle, thank goodness! I heard the Head once asking Miss Graves, in that 'life is real, life is earnest' voice of hers, what she thought was the most beautiful thing in the world. And Gravy said, 'The most beautiful thing in the world? A small but settled income, I think. And no work.' The Head was sick."

"I don't mind work so much," said Lucilla, going on with her knitting, "so long as you don't have to do the sort of work other people say you must. If I had to do this I should hate it." She heaved up the lumpish grey mass on her lap. "As it is, I like it."

"I don't like anything here," said Jane; "we're wasting