If I had my way with them gentry——" Mr. Swindles finished his
beer at a gulp, and he put down his glass as firmly as he desired to put
down the horse watchers. At the end of a long silence Mr. Leopold said—
"Come into my pantry and smoke a pipe. Mr. Arthur will be down presently.
Perhaps he'll tell us what weight he was riding this morning."
"Cunning old bird," said Mr. Swindles, as he rose from the table and wiped
his shaven lips with the back of his hand; "and you'd have us believe that
you didn't know, would you? You'd have us believe, would you, that the
Gaffer don't tell you everything when you bring up his hot water in the
morning, would you?"
Mr. Leopold laughed under his breath, and looking mysterious and very
rat-like he led the way to his pantry. Esther watched them in strange
trouble of soul. She had heard of racecourses as shameful places where men
were led to their ruin, and betting she had always understood to be
sinful, but in this house no one seemed to think of anything else. It was
no place for a Christian girl.
"Let's have some more of the story," Margaret said. "You've got the new
number. The last piece was where he is going to ask the opera-singer to
run away with him."
Sarah took an illustrated journal out of her pocket and began to read
aloud.
III
Esther was one of the Plymouth Brethren. In their chapel, if the house in
which they met could be called a chapel, there were neither pictured
stories of saints, nor vestments, nor music, nor even imaginative
stimulant in the shape of written prayers. Her knowledge of life was
strictly limited to her experience of life; she knew no drama of passion
except that which the Gospels relate: this story in the Family Reader
was the first representation of life she had met with, and its humanity
thrilled her like the first idol set up for worship. The actress told
Norris that she loved him. They were on a balcony, the sky was blue, the
moon was shining, the warm scent of the mignonette came up from the garden
below, the man was in evening dress with diamond shirt studs, the
actress's arm was large and white. They had loved each other for years.
The strangest events had happened for the purpose of bringing them
together, and, fascinated against her will, Esther could not but listen.
But at the end of the chapter the racial instinct forced reproval from
her.
"I am sure it is wicked to read such tales."
Sarah looked at her in mute astonishment. Grover said—
"You shouldn't be here at all. Can't Mrs. Latch find nothing for you to do
in the scullery?"
"Then," said Sarah, awaking to a sense of the situation, "I suppose that
where you come from you were not so much as allowed to read a tale;
… dirty little chapel-going folk!"
The incident might have closed with this reproval had not Margaret
volunteered the information that Esther's box was full of books.
"I should like to see them books," said Sarah. "I'll be bound that they
are only prayer-books."
"I don't mind what you say to me, but you shall not insult my religion."
"Insult your religion! I said you never had read a book in your life
unless it was a prayer-book."
"We don't use prayer-books."
"Then what books have you read?"
Esther hesitated, her manner betrayed her, and, suspecting the truth,
Sarah said:
"I don't believe that you can read at all. Come, I'll bet you twopence
that you can't read the first five lines of my story."
Esther pushed the paper from her and walked out of the room in a tumult of
grief and humiliation. Woodview and all belonging to it had grown
unbearable, and heedless to what complaint the cook might make against her
she ran upstairs and shut herself into her room. She asked why they should
take pleasure in torturing her. It was not her fault if she did not know
how to read. There were the books she loved for her mother's sake, the
books that had brought such disgrace upon her. Even the names she could
not read, and the shame of her ignorance lay upon her heavier than a
weight of lead. "Peter Parley's Annual," "Sunny Memories of Foreign
Lands," "Children of the Abbey," "Uncle Tom's Cabin," Lamb's "Tales of
Shakespeare's Plays," a Cooking Book, "Roda's Mission of Love," the Holy
Bible and the Common Prayer Book.
She turned them over, wondering what were the mysteries that this print
held from her. It was to her mysterious as the stars.
Esther Waters came from Barnstaple.
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