Lucilla, etc

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Chapter I

From my verandah I can, as I write, just see the shingled roofs of Grove Hill College. I believe, indeed, that except for sundry black and brown families who inhabit a variety of more or less frail-looking huts hard by, I have the honour of being the nearest neighbour of that temple of modern culture. I am English, and therefore count. The black and brown individuals aforementioned do not, except as votes, although in numbers they are, at San Jose", in about the proportion of forty to one. It is as well to mention this fact, for, until one has thoroughly grasped it, West Indian life is rendered even more complex to a new-comer than it really is. It is a short but very lovely walk to Grove Hill from my own " Pen." You can, if you prefer it, of course take the more correct and conventional means of driving thither, in which case it is a good three miles by the road ; but I would rather walk, and follow the little field-path that leads me there in less than ten minutes.

B Lucilla. 2 I have gone that way so often, I know every step by heart, and it is always lovely and always generously ready to provide me with some fresh surprise in the way of new flowers and plants. I have threaded my way through the tall Guinea grass when every blade was hung with dew and every twig of " bush " was wreathed with fairy blue convolvulus bells, shining like fallen flakes of the scarcely less blue sky. Along its narrow track I have gathered baskets of golden guavas, seductive to the sight, and as sickening to the sense of smell as they were good to the taste, when subsequently stewed with sugar by my lazy black cook. I have seen it in the cool, pearly light of daybreak and the golden haze of the setting sun when the pretty blue flowered " water grass " was dried up with drought, and the lilac balls of the sensitive plant were thickly powdered with fine white dust, and again when it was muddy under foot, and every succulent "leaf of life" was laden with glittering rain-drops.

I love the little neglected path, and instinctively my steps always turn towards it, as my favourite walk. Sometimes I even fancy that in the beginning it was my fancy for the walk itself that made Grove Hill and its inhabitants such a source of never failing interest in my quiet life ; but this would show such a lack of proper appreciation on my part that I hesitate to confess it. To begin with, Grove Hill is the latest West Indian experiment in the way of female education, and as an experiment alone claims some attention. It it about six miles from the actual town of San Jose, which, as every one knows, is still one of the principal ports of the West Indies. I cannot say the most flourishing, for its past glories are now almost forgotten in the hurry and turmoil of the Lucilla. 3 modern world, and it lives chiefly on the memories of its own history.

Still some hopeful spirits assert that it is now partially reviving, and with some reason it prides itself on its enterprise and wish to keep up with the times. If some unkind critics quote the old fable of the frog and the ox, San Jose* can at least afford to be superior, and to retort that even " Rome was not built in a day." It was in the laudable pursuit of the modern spirit of culture that Grove Hill College had been inaugurated for the better teaching and training of native girls. It was, to start with, a Government scheme, paid for by Government money and under Government control, and so the teachers were no longer termed mistresses but officials, and as such were responsible to the San Jose- Government, while they were watched over and pro tected by the recently appointed San Jose Minister of Education, with a large stafifof assistant clerks at his back.

San Jose' made up for its restrictions in size by a very complete list of every possible colonial official — the Government appearing to derive great support by making up in quantity what it lacked in quality. At first an unsophisticated Englishman was apt to be bewildered by the endless vistas of officials that society presented to his eyes, — the heads of departments, assistants, secretaries, clerks, and underlings that ex tended on every side ; but it is a state of things that one soon becomes accustomed to, and that is inevitable when the social focus is small. The new college at first, started under such favourable auspices, worked smoothly enough. It was fortunate in its head, and all went well until a disturbing element was introduced in the shape of the new English music mistress. B Lucilla. 4 Her name was Lucilla St. John, and it was no one's fault precisely that her transplantation should prove a mistake.

She was, like the college itself, an experiment, and experiments are generally mistakes unless they succeed, when they are straightway hailed as strokes of genius. Some failures are to be expected without giving even a West Indian a pretext for accusing the Government of neglect or malice prepense in the matter. The records of Lucilla's official career are to be found in sundry neat little bundles, all carefully endorsed and duly docketed in the San Jose' Colonial Records. It is not, however, as an "official," but as a woman, that I would speak of her here. I hardly know if Miss St. John had a right to call herself a professor • but I imagine that, when she found herself in the very official atmosphere of Grove Hill, amid surroundings that metaphorically reeked of red tape, she thought she was onlv following the custom of the colony in assuming the dignity, for her full name and address ran as follows — MISS LUCILLA ST. JOHN, PROFESSOR OF MUSIC AND THE FRENCH LANGUAGE (Mrs. Potter's Trust), Grove Hill College, SAN JOSE.

This, at least, was written in her rather scratchy hand, on the limp but highly glazed card with which she acknowledged my first formal call. Only very exalted personages like the Colonial Secre tary's or the General's wives used printed cards. It was Lucilla. 5 thought rather presumptuous for ordinary mortals to possess such things, and with London and its stationers' shops some three weeks or more distant, there was some reason in the idea. Besides, in our little island so many cards are required that one would have to order them by the thousand, months in advance. Every one may be poor, and generally is so, but there is no striving after economy when visiting-cards are concerned. As calls are the principal occupation of the English inhabitants out of business hours, and it is the invariable custom, as in most colonies, to send up one's card before entering a house, the consumption of them is considerable.

In spite, however, of her imposing card, Miss St. John did not look much like a professor, although she was a stately figure enough, standing at least five feet eleven inches in her slippers. She was a fine-looking young woman too, about eight and twenty years of age, and rather handsome in a large florid style. If she reminded one more of a pink tree-peony than a rose or a lily, or any of the other floral comparisons of a heroine, that was not her fault, and peonies are not to be despised, and have even their own special beauty when looked upon in the right light. Thus Lucilla's brown hair, if coarse, was very abun dant. It was twisted up into a more or less untidy mass round her plump English face, and would certainly have been generally admired had not its disorder been its most salient feature to a casual observer.

Lucilla her self had no misgivings on the subject, and indeed fondly dreamt that its arrangement approached in some measure to the "careless Greek knot" with which the "staglike heads " of her favourite heroines were invariably " crowned ; " for Lucilla was fond of reading romances about beautiful and bewitching maidens, and it was a Lucilla. 6 lasting grief to her mind that instead of " tawny orbs " and a " creamy " skin, such as they invariably affected, she could only boast of a pair of bright blue English eyes, and pink cheeks, whose brilliant colour had as yet resisted the ravages of the West Indian climate. Her rosy complexion was the more noticeable, for all the other college " officials " were already bleached by two or three rainy seasons, and were now the colour of fine white wax.

Some had even passed this stage and had become lemon-yellow, with that peculiarly bloodless appearance that all English dwellers in the tropics know too well. The ladies at Grove Hill had doubtless, woman like, mourned a little over the loss of their freshness, but they had so much to do that they soon forgot it. Looking in the glass was not one of their weaknesses. Besides, they all recognized their responsibility as Government officials, and endeavoured to live up to their exalted calling. Miss Gale, the Lady Principal, was particularly strong on this point. One had only to hear her say in her small, measured voice, " I feel as a Government official," to be convinced that the affairs of our colonial empire rested principally on her shoulders. She was a fragile-looking little creature, but in her tiny person was concentrated the brains of a Cambridge Wrangler and the determination of a Joan of Arc.

She was, indeed, equally ready at any moment to wrestle with a mathematical problem, or confront an unruly negro kitchen-maid, and in each case was certain to come off victorious. Her Christian name was Rose. She had even friends in England who knew her best as " little Rosie ; " but if this had been hinted to her subordinates, they would Lucilla. 7 have found it a hard matter to believe, so encased and surrounded was she now in her official envelope. For the rest, she was a brave little woman, who had fought her own way in the world by sheer pluck and perseverance. Physically, a good-sized kitten could have conquered her ; but mentally, she had more grip perhaps than any one else in the island. Her isolated position (for as Lady Principal she could have little real intercourse with the other mistresses) had intensified this quality, and the climate, although it had tried her strength, had not sapped her mental vigour, as is so often the case with even men of strong physique.

She had also, however, what no one suspected, a very tender heart. I suppose Dr. Broadwood, the old college doctor, recognized that Miss Gale had a heart in the same way that we all have ; but as it was one of her great objects to conceal the fact, no one else considered that she had one at all. Some of her subordinates, and even one or two of the black and coloured pupils, who had been ill with fever, occasionally maintained that she possessed such a thing ; but those who had not suffered them selves, declared stoutly that such incredible statements could only proceed from delirium. From this you will gather that the Lady Principal had perhaps two sides to her character. Her age was in reality scarcely thirty ; but she had had hard work in a trying climate, and so looked considerably older than her years ; also, constant self repression, being an essentially unyouthful quality, does not tend to make a woman look young.

Under more favourable circumstances she might have been rather pretty ; but prettiness and Miss Gale seemed at this time on very incompatible terms. Lucilla. She was not too old even yet for a romance • but she had early parted with all illusions on that score. An invalid brother and an old mother depending practically on one's own exertions, keep frivolities of that kind away from the bread-winner of the family ; and the grey sisters of grim necessity, toil and anxiety, are very stern and effectual duennas to a girl. The old mother had died just before Miss Gale came out to her present post at Grove Hill, which she had accepted, and then kept, in spite of many difficulties, because the salary was large enough for her to support her brother James in comfort. She could not have done this had she stayed in England, for the tiny annuity that had hitherto helped them, died with her mother.

Miss Gale adored her brother, as most women do those to whom they sacrifice themselves, and the long letters she received from him every fortnight were the white stones that marked her monotonous and solitary existence. For him, at least, the quiet, reserved little woman was now, as always, " dear little Rosie ; " and to have somebody to work for, to think of, in a word, to love, meant everything to Miss Gale. If the world thought she gave much, she received possibly even more than she bestowed in return, although not after its own fashion of payment. There were also some stray flowers of another kind on the dry routine of her official path. The Government approved of her work. It could not well do otherwise. She was so quiet, so methodical, so thorough. Above all, she had as yet never given any trouble, and " the powers that be " detest all trouble, preferring any amount of Gordian knots of red tape to one independent thinker.

The old Governor and his beautiful wife, Lady Lucilla. 9 Cynthia, smiled on her, and the assistant mistresses respected even if they did not love her. As for the pupils, at any rate they obeyed her, and that was as much as she either expected or desired from coloured girls.

Chapter II

Until Lucilla came out from England all had there fore gone smoothly at the college ; but trouble came with her. Miss St. John was not exactly in the position of the other mistresses, being indeed more or less in dependent of the general working of the college. Her very existence indeed was an anomaly, an after-thought that had never been contemplated in the original scheme, and was in consequence one of those uncom fortable posts that are sometimes to be found, where no one can define with any exactitude what amount of discipline can be legitimately demanded of the holder. In this case the mischief all originated in the mis taken generosity of the old lady in England who had instituted the " Potter Trust." Mrs. Potter was immensely rich, and a great lover of music — both excellent things in their diverse ways.

Unluckily, in her ignorance, some malicious demon had inspired her with a wish to bestow a portion of her wealth on San Jose, and to found a college for music to benefit the negro and coloured girls of the island. She had some vague notion, probably derived from the Christy Minstrels, that all negroes were musical, and that a scientific knowledge of that art and freer scope to revel in pianos was all that the coloured population required to make them perfectly good and happy. A sailor cousin of hers, whom she had known in Lucilla. 11 early youth, had died of yellow fever and had been buried at sea off San Jose" some fifty years or more back. It was owing to this chance that she had fixed upon the female youth of that island as the fortunate recipients of her musical bounty. I infer from this that she had probably nourished in the past a sentimental leaning towards the said cousin, long since devoured by the sharks of San Jose' Harbour.

In this I may be wrong, but the fact remains that San Jose was chosen out of many other islands. So many technical difficulties arose, however, in the way of carrying out the original idea, that at last, in a fit of desperation, Mrs. Potter appealed to the Secre tary of State to help her, who, after some delay, handed her over to the San Jose' Government. By this time the poor would-be benefactress had grown weary and exasperated. Her patience was waning and her enthu siasm cooling ; and so, after a few more discussions and disputes, she relinquished the idea of building a college at her own expense, and assigned to the island authorities a much-reduced lump sum, with promises of more in the future should this be spent to her satisfaction. This might have answered had she not here brought the proceedings to an abrupt conclusion by dying.

Her executors and relations being far from desirous of wasting their own worldly goods on such a scheme, and being heartily sick of their eccentric relation's freak, after a few more fruitless bickerings, decided to settle the whole matter conclusively by founding a professor ship for music and French, to be attached to the last new Government toy, the Grove Hill College for girls. They were not prepared to give more money, and this seemed a reasonable compromise. The old lady had said nothing about French. She Lucilla. 12 had not regarded that language as necessary to the transformation of the San Jose" girls, but as a French teacher was wanted at the college, it seemed too good a chance to let pass. To kill two birds with one stone is always an irresistible temptation to Colonial Governments, and it always results in disaster, as you may perhaps have noticed if you have a turn for such inquiries, and care to read Colonial Blue Books.

Mrs. Potter had certainly never contemplated a female professor. She was old-fashioned, and did not approve of the modern woman ; but it was one of the canons of Grove Hill that it should be worked entirely by women, and as now there was no superabundance of money, this was perhaps as well. Moreover, a fine organ had just been erected in Mrs. Potter's honour, with part of her bequest, which had caused it to dwindle grievously. In deference also to her memory, and her wishes that her name should be remembered and asso ciated with her scheme, it was decreed that the occupant of the new post was always to add the words " Mrs. Potter's Trust " after her Dame. This appeared harmless enough ; but in the fact that it at once placed the " Professor " on a different footing to the other mistresses lay the germs of discord.

At the time these arrangements were completed, Lucilla was at home and doing nothing, to the great chagrin of her family and her own profound boredom. Her relations urged her to apply for the post directly they heard of it. They were always on the look-out for " openings " for her, and this seemed ideal, for it was for three years, and so delightfully far off. They hailed her success with rapture mingled, with relief. They had hardly expected her to be chosen, for Lucilla. 13 Lucilla was proverbially unlucky, and they had antici pated a long period of her society. It was apt to weary them after a time ; besides, they were straitened enough in circumstances to resent the influx of another member of the family with a fine healthy appetite ; for when " genteel " poverty reaches a low enough level, even such sordid considerations make a material difference.

To Lucilla herself the idea of a tropical life was not unpleasant. She had never had a chance of earning so much money before — for the annual salary of eighty pounds, board and lodging " all found," as the servants say, sounded brilliant enough in England. They were then living in very cramped lodgings in a back street in Chelsea. It was November, but it had been snowing, and now a thaw was going on in full vigour under a fine yellow fog. Lucilla had chilblains, and a bad cold in her head, and her mother had a fresh attack of rheumatism. There was an all-pervading smell of fried bacon and liniment in the hot, stuify atmosphere of their small sitting-room, and these causes combined made the remaining members of the family very fractious. By contrast, the thought of lying in a luxurious hammock, and being fanned by several attentive black servants, and living principally on delicious pine-apples and guava jelly, was not devoid of charm.

This was at that time Lucilla's impression of West Indian life. She was not to blame for this mistake, for it is not uncommon among English stay-at-home folk. She had no lack of confidence in her own powers, and, in fact, as far as actual knowledge went, she was Lucilla. 14 competent enough for the post, for her father, a retired naval doctor, rather the worse for wear and a too rigid adherence to a stimulative treatment, had spent most of his latter years abroad with his family. Lucilla, in consequence, knew French well enough, and at any rate spoke it with commendable fluency and assurance. The facility with which she had expressed herself in that language had had its due weight on the authorities who had been empowered to interview the candidates, and the many scrawly testimonials she produced from various foreign professors did the rest.

They looked impressive, and perchance the cramped foreign hand writing was too illegible to read attentively. As for music, she really was above the average aspirant, for they teach very thoroughly on the Continent, and turn out musicians of Lucilla's calibre by the hundred yearly. Her playing in itself was sufficiently showy to make the said authorities open their eyes and imagine they had secured a very great prize indeed. Lucilla was not troubled with nervousness, and she played Thalberg's "Home, Sweet Home" with variations by heart. She played it very fairly, too, with great brilliance and execution, and very few slurred notes. She was always great at variations, and much preferred them to the sonatas and fugues that one cruel German professor had compelled her to study. Now that she was free and could follow her own taste, her " pieces " were more variegated than ever, and rivalled in brilliancy the piano organs in the street.

" Humph, so Lucilla is now to be a musical professor," exclaimed her old aunt when she heard the news. Aunt Lucy was an important feature in the St. John domestic politics, being the solitary well-to-do Lucilla. 15 relation that the somewhat dilapidated family could boast. " Professor of music," she proceeded, with a scornful sniff; "well I know she has studied, but she maybe professor of music a dozen times over and yet never a musician," and although Lucilla was furious, there was truth in the remark. But to accept meekly their old relative's strictures was so part and parcel of their bringing-up that she said never a word, and was in course of time rewarded by the munificent gift of twenty pounds to assist in the purchase of her new outfit. The innocent amusement that Lucilla extracted from its purchase was, however, rather damped by her aunt's accompanying remarks, which were to the effect, how infinitely preferable it would be to see Lucilla " settled."

" I would willingly have given fifty, eighty — no, a hundred pounds, in yellow golden guineas, if it had been for your wedding trousseau," and Lucilla had to listen with angry downcast eyes and burning cheeks to an exhortation, the burden of which was a hope that this new departure was only a preliminary step towards the more desirable goal of matrimony, ending with the cruel little remark that "at any rate Lucilla had signed for a three years' contract, and that was so much to the good of the family." Lucilla was speechless with mortification ; but her tongue was tied, for she had already tried her talents at being governess and companion, but the father had made love to her in the one position, and the son in the other, and so she had after both attempts returned on her aunt's hands, discontented and disconsolate.

She had in vain assured her sceptical family with copious tears, that it had in neither case been her fault. Lucilla. Perhaps it had not; but to girls of her type such troubles seem to be foredoomed, and they are born to them " as the sparks fly upwards." Her love affairs had begun early. Her mother remembered too well the troubles she had had with Lucilla's first music master. She and the well-to-do aunt shook their old heads over it, even as they discussed the more hopeful future. They could not recollect details. It had not been a very serious affair ; but there had been notes and flowers, and the aunt believed a lock of hair. This last incident the rheumatic mother denied with indignation ; for although she was ready enough to find fault with Lucilla herself, she had, like all mothers, a defence ready for her against other detractors, and besides, she had a weakness for Lucilla as being her youngest child.

On the whole, however, she agreed with the old aunt, that Lucilla was doing very wisely in going to the West Indies, and they both were inclined to believe that it presented " possi bilities."

Chapter III

A cloudless sky. The sun shining with pitiless strength into a bare little room made of pitch pine. It was a new room, or rather, to be more exact, a new partition had been run up to divide off a corner in one of the long low wooden class-rooms at Grove Hill. The jalousies were partly closed ; but something had gone wrong with one of the larger ones, and Miss Lawford, the sub-mistress, was vainly trying to fasten a striped cotton curtain against it, in the hopes of shutting out some of the glare. She was doing her best, but the pins would slip, and it did not seem much use, for the whole room was oven like. From the cane chair upon which she was balancing herself she could see over into the empty class-room, for the new partition did not reach to the top, for the sake of coolness. The class-room, as is the case everywhere in San Jose', had no glass in its window frames, but its atmosphere left a good deal to be desired, nevertheless.

According to San Jose ideas of comfort, the room was completely furnished. That is to say, there was a stretcher-bed in the corner, and on a small table of rough deal, a minute jug and basin, the latter, according to the refreshing Creole custom, filled with cold water ; for in a hot climate it is c Lucilla. pleasant to give one's hands a dip from time to time, and preparations are made accordingly. There was a tiny looking-glass hanging on the rough wall, and another cane chair, and this, with four wooden pegs for hanging clothes on the door, completed the inventory of the apartment. Miss Lawford was still struggling with her curtain when the door opened with a creak of the hinges, and Miss Knox, the little arithmetic mistress, hurried in. She had a red earthen jug in her hand, of the rude ware of the island, coarse and common enough, but not without merit of its own both in shape and colour.