第2章 Brian Falls in Love (2)

She passed up Guilford Square, but did not turn into any of the old decayed houses; her home was far less imposing.At the corner of the square there is a narrow opening which leads into a sort of blind alley paved with grim flagstones.Here, facing a high blank wall, are four or five very dreary houses.She entered one of these, put down her wet umbrella in the shabby little hall, and opened the door of a barely furnished room, the walls of which were, however, lined with books.Beside the fire was the one really comfortable piece of furniture in the room, an Ikeley couch, and upon it lay a very wan-looking invalid, who glanced up with a smile of welcome."Why, Erica, you are home early today.How is that?""Oh, I don't know," said Erica, tossing down her books in a way which showed her mother that she was troubled about something."Isuppose I tore along at a good rate, and there was no temptation to stay at the High School.""Come and tell me about it," said the mother, gently, "what has gone wrong, little one?""Everything!" exclaimed Erica, vehemently."Everything always does go wrong with us and always will, I suppose.I wish you had never sent me to school, mother; I wish I need never see the place again!""But till today you enjoyed it so much."

"Yes, the classes and the being with Gertrude.But that will never be the same again.It's just this, mother, I'm never to speak to Gertrude again--to have noting more to do with her.""Who said so? And Why?"

"Why? Because I'm myself," said Erica, with a bitter little laugh.

"How I can help it, nobody seems to think.But Gertrude's father has come back from Africa, and was horrified to learn that we were friends, made her promise never to speak to me again, and made her write this note about it.Look!" and she took a crumpled envelope from her pocket.

The mother read the note in silence, and an expression of pain came over her face.Erica, who was very impetuous, snatched it away from her when she saw that look of sadness.

"Don't read the horrid thing!" she exclaimed, crushing it up in her hand."There, we will burn it!" and she threw it into the fire with a vehemence which somehow relieved her.

"You shouldn't have done that," said her mother."Your father will be sure to want to see it.""No, no, no," cried Erica, passionately."He must not know; you must not tell him, mother.""Dear child, have you not learned that it is impossible to keep anything from him? He will find out directly that something is wrong.""It will grieve him so; he must not hear it," said Erica."He cares so much for what hurts us.Oh! Why are people so hard and cruel? Why do they treat us like lepers? It isn't all because of losing Gertrude; I could bear that if there were some real reason --if she went away or died.But there's no reason! It's all prejudice and bigotry and injustice; it's that which makes it sting so.

Erica was not at all given to tears, but there was now a sort of choking in her throat, and a sort of dimness in her eyes which made her rather hurriedly settle down on the floor in her own particular nook beside her mother's couch, where her face could not be seen.

There was a silence.Presently the mother spoke, stroking back the wavy, auburn hair with her thin white hand.

"For a long time I have dreaded this for you, Erica.I was afraid you didn't realize the sort of position the world will give you.

Till lately you have seen scarcely any but our own people, but it can hardly be, darling, that you can go on much longer without coming into contact with others; and then, more and more, you must realize that you are cut off from much that other girls may enjoy.""Why?" questioned Erica."Why can't they be friendly? Why must they cut us off from everything?""It does seem unjust; but you must remember that we belong to an unpopular minority.""But if I belonged to the larger party, I would at least be just to the smaller," said Erica."How can they expect us to think their system beautiful when the very first thing they show us is hatred and meanness.Oh! If I belonged to the other side I would show them how different it might be.""I believe you would," said the mother, smiling a little at the idea, and at the vehemence of the speaker."But, as it is, Erica, I am afraid you must school yourself to endure.After all, I fancy you will be glad to share so soon in your father's vexations.""Yes," said Erica, pushing back the hair from her forehead, and giving herself a kind of mental shaking."I am glad of that.

After all, they can't spoil the best part of our lives! I shall go into the garden to get rid of my bad temper; it doesn't rain now."She struggled to her feet, picked up the little fur hat which had fallen off, kissed her mother, and went out of the room.

The "garden" was Erica's favorite resort, her own particular property.It was about fifteen feet square, and no one but a Londoner would have bestowed on it so dignified a name.But Erica, who was of an inventive turn, had contrived to make the most of the little patch of ground, had induced ivy to grow on the ugly brick walls, and with infinite care and satisfaction had nursed a few flowers and shrubs into tolerably healthy though smutty life.In one of the corners, Tom Craigie, her favorite cousin, had put up a rough wooden bench for her, and here she read and dreamed as contentedly as if her "garden ground" had been fairy-land.Here, too, she invariably came when anything had gone wrong, when the endless troubles about money which had weighed upon her all her life became a little less bearable than usual, or when some act of discourtesy or harshness to her father had roused in her a tingling, burning sense of indignation.

Erica was not one of those people who take life easily; things went very deeply with her.In spite of her brightness and vivacity, in spite of her readiness to see the ludicrous in everything, and her singularly quick perceptions, she was also very keenly alive to other and graver impressions.