18
For a week the whole of the housework and cooking was done by the girls under the superintendence of Gertrude, who seemed to be all over the house acting as forewoman to little gangs of workers. Miriam took but a small part in the work—Minna was paying long visits to the aurist every day—but she shared the depleted table and knew that the whole school was taking part in weathering the storm of Fräulein’s ill-humour that had broken first upon Anna. She once caught a glimpse of Gertrude flushed and downcast, confronting Fräulein’s reproachful voice upon the stairs; and one day in the basement she heard Ulrica tearfully refuse to clean her own boots and saw Fräulein stand before her bowing and smiling, and with the girls gathered round, herself brush and polish the slender boots.
She was glad to get away with Minna.
Her blouses came at the beginning of the week. She carried them upstairs. Her hands took them incredulously from their wrappages. The “squashed strawberry” lay at the top, soft warm clear madder-rose, covered with a black arabesque of tiny leaves and tendrils. It was compactly folded, showing only its turned-down collar, shoulders and breast. She laid it on her bed side by side with its buff companion and shook out the underlying skirt.... How sweet of them to send her the things ... she felt tears in her eyes as she stood at her small looking-glass with the skirt against her body and the blouses held in turn above it ... they both went perfectly with the light skirt.... She unfolded them and shook them out and held them up at arms’ length by the shoulder seams. Her heart sank. They were not in the least like anything she had ever worn. They had no shape. They were square and the sleeves were like bags. She turned them about and remembered the shapeliness of the stockinette jerseys smocked and small and clinging that she had worn at school. If these were blouses then she would never be able to wear blouses.... “They’re so flountery!” she said, frowning at them. She tried on the rose-coloured one. It startled her with its brightness.... “It’s no good, it’s no good,” she said, as her hands fumbled for the fastenings. There was a hook at the neck; that was all. Frightful ... she fastened it, and the collar set in a soft roll but came down in front to the base of her neck. The rest of the blouse stuck out all round her ... “it’s got no cut ... they couldn’t have looked at it.” ... She turned helplessly about, using her hand-glass, frowning and despairing. Presently she saw Harriett’s quizzical eyes and laughed woefully, tweaking at the outstanding margin of the material. “It’s all very well,” she murmured angrily, “but it’s all I’ve got.” ... She wished Sarah were there. Sarah would do something, alter it or something. She heard her encouraging voice saying, “You haven’t half got it on yet. It’ll be all right.” She unfastened her black skirt, crammed the flapping margin within its band and put on the beaded black stuff belt.
The blouse bulged back and front shapelessly and seemed to be one with the shapeless sleeves which ended in hard loose bands riding untrimmed about her wrists with the movements of her hands.... “It’s like a nightdress,” she said wrathfully and dragged the fulnesses down all round under her skirt. It looked better so in front; but as she turned with raised hand-glass it came riding up at the side and back with the movement of her arm.
19
Minna was calling to her from the stairs. She went on to the landing to answer her and found her on the top flight dressed to go out.
“Ach!” she whispered as Miriam drew back. “Jetzt mag’ ich Sie leiden. Now I like you.”
She ran back to her room. There was no time to change. She fixed a brooch in the collar to make it come a little higher at the join.
Going downstairs she saw Pastor Lahmann hanging up his hat in the hall. His childish eyes came up as her step sounded on the lower flight.