But, at the same time, one of the most definite aims of her life had been to raise the status of the head-mistress to the same level as that of the head-master. For the sake of all teachers—not for her own sake—she deprecated the secondary place given to women who were doing the same work as men. She also thought the internal management of her school should be left to her, as it would have been to a head-master in her place, and for this she stood firm, even when, as a matter of mere feeling, she might have given way, for she was really one of the old-fashioned women who would personally endure anything for the sake of peace.
It is more than probable that she felt some things too strongly, and that she misunderstood others. In those days, most women suffered quite needlessly from sheer ignorance of business routine. They lacked the training and discipline which carry men unscathed through the roughness of public life. Two men meeting on a committee may oppose each other tooth and nail, but these men may afterwards go home and dine comfortably together, bearing no traces of the fray. At that date, two women, after a similar encounter, would have gone their separate ways, to weep over a solitary cup of tea, and when next they met would pass each other with the cut direct.
To a woman like Miss Buss, nothing of this sort would have been possible, for even if she had not had too much common sense, she had that most uncommon power of forgiveness which led to the saying, “If you really want to know how kind Miss Buss is you must do her some injury!”
Nevertheless, however evanescent her feeling might be, she did for the time feel her worries very intensely. It chanced that, as my way lay beyond Myra Lodge, I usually drove her home from the meetings, and she then relieved her pent-up feelings by rapid discussion of any vexed question from her own point of view. By the time our drive ended, she was, as a rule, quite ready for her ordinary meal, and we parted more often than not with a jest, for this process was merely a question of “blowing off the steam,” and I served as safety-valve. It was entirely a matter of temperament. Whilst some temperaments fail to perceive the existence of a grievance until it is formulated in words, others can throw off in words all the bitterness of even the worst grievances. Miss Buss belonged to the latter class, and, as I understood this thoroughly, I could forget her words as soon as spoken. Where such hasty utterances were taken seriously by persons of the opposite temperament, she was at times seriously misunderstood.
During the nine years of suspense between the changes of 1870 and the opening of the new buildings in 1879 there was much to try the most perfect patience. Here is a little note showing the kind of thing that used at first to cause a protest—
“My very dear little Annie,
“I feel a little ashamed of my impatience to-day, but am happy to find that Miss Elford was in the same frame of mind. Lady X. talked quite wildly about this and that, and what ought or ought not to be. These ladies have not an idea beyond the parish school, where the lady of the manor is supreme, and dictates to the children what they shall wear, and what they shall not, how to do their hair, etc., etc. If it were not so pitiable in its ignorance I could find it in my heart to cry, or to run away and leave the board to manage its schools.
“How very thankful I am that you have always a soothing effect on me. My dear love to you,
“Arnie.”
This was probably one of many instances in which Miss Buss suffered from an imperfect knowledge on the part of the public. Endowments for girls’ schools were still so novel that the demand for money for the Camden School was, in some absurd way, associated with the Founder, as if she were herself a recipient, instead of being, as she was, one of the most generous of donors, giving herself and her means for the public good.