Towards the end of the first year Deborah’s essays were said to be improving, and by the end she had managed to make as many marks as Jane. Not that she ever counted marks; she laughed at and despised them, which was another piece of pride.
The subjects for essays in the second year were, however, more to Deborah’s taste; they were not quite so cramped, and gave one a better range for expression. She began to pass Jane by, not intentionally but unavoidably, for it was easier on the whole to write well than badly.
Toward the end of the second year the senior students prepared for an oratorio, which they were going to sing in St Paul’s on Ascension Day, as it was the year of the late Queen’s Diamond Jubilee.
One day one of the students who had come from the same school as Deborah came running up to her.
“I say, there’s going to be a general practice, and we’re going to —— College. We’ll be sure to see Mr ——. He’s there, you know.”
But she didn’t relish this piece of news; she would very much rather not have gone. She had known all along that he had come back to London as a master in the college which he had left two years ago; he was clever.
So the night for the practice came and went.
When they got back again this girl, whose name was Minnie, came flying up to her.
“I say, did Mr —— speak to you?”
“No.”