was； e into contact with those boys。 She would be Standard
Five teacher； as far away personally from her class as if she
had never set foot in St。 Philip's school。 She would just
obliterate them all； and keep herself apart； take them as
scholars only。
So her face grew more and more shut； and over her flayed；
exposed soul of a young girl who had gone open and warm to give
herself to the children； there set a hard； insentient thing；
that worked mechanically according to a system imposed。
It seemed she scarcely saw her class the next day。 She could
only feel her will； and what she would have of this class which
she must grasp into subjection。 It was no good； any more； to
appeal； to play upon the better feelings of the class。 Her
swift…working soul realized this。
She； as teacher； must bring them all as scholars； into
subjection。 And this she was going to do。 All else she would
forsake。 She had bee hard and impersonal； almost avengeful on
herself as well as on them； since the stone throwing。 She did
not want to be a person； to be herself any more； after such
humiliation。 She would assert herself for mastery； be only
teacher。 She was set now。 She was going to fight and subdue。
She knew by now her enemies in the class。 The one she hated
most was Williams。 He was a sort of defective； not bad enough to
be so classed。 He could read with fluency； and had plenty of
cunning intelligence。 But he could not keep still。 And he had a
kind of sickness very repulsive to a sensitive girl； something
cunning and etiolated and degenerate。 Once he had thrown an
ink…well at her； in one of his mad little rages。 Twice he had
run home out of class。 He was a well…known character。
And he grinned up his sleeve at this girl…teacher； sometimes
hanging round her to fawn on her。 But this made her dislike him
more。 He had a kind of leech…like power。
From one of the children she took a supple cane； and this she
determined to use when real occasion came。 One morning； at
position； she said to the boy Williams：
〃Why have you made this blot？〃
〃Please； miss； it fell off my pen；〃 he whined out； in the
mocking voice that he was so clever in using。 The boys near
snorted with laughter。 For Williams was an actor； he could
tickle the feelings of his hearers subtly。 Particularly he could
tickle the children with him into ridiculing his teacher； or
indeed； any authority of which he was not afraid。 He had that
peculiar gaol instinct。
〃Then you must stay in and finish another page of
position；〃 said the teacher。
This was against her usual sense of justice； and the boy
resented it derisively。 At twelve o'clock she caught him
slinking out。
〃Williams； sit down；〃 she said。
And there she sat； and there he sat； alone； opposite to her；
on the back desk； looking up at her with his furtive eyes every
minute。
〃Please； miss； I've got to go an errand；〃 he called out
insolently。
〃Bring me your book；〃 said Ursula。
The boy came out； flapping his book along the desks。 He had
not written a line。
〃Go back and do the writing you have to do；〃 said Ursula。 And
she sat at her desk； trying to correct books。 She was trembling
and upset。 And for an hour the miserable boy writhed and grinned
in his seat。 At the end of that time he had done five lines。
〃As it is so late now；〃 said Ursula； 〃you will finish the
rest this evening。〃
The boy kicked his way insolently down the passage。
The afternoon came again。 Williams was there； glancing at
her； and her heart beat thick； for she knew it was a fight
between them。 She watched him。
During the geography lesson； as she was pointing to the map
with her cane； the boy continually ducked his whitish head under
the desk； and attracted the attention of other boys。
〃Williams；〃 she said； gathering her courage； for it was
critical now to speak to him； 〃what are you doing？〃
He lifted his face； the sore…rimmed eyes half smiling。 There
was something intrinsically indecent about him。 Ursula shrank
away。
〃Nothing；〃 he replied； feeling a triumph。
〃What are you doing？〃 she repeated； her heart…beat
suffocating her。
〃Nothing；〃 replied the boy； insolently； aggrieved； ic。
〃If I speak to you again； you must go down to Mr。 Harby；〃 she
said。
But this boy was a match even for Mr。 Harby。 He was so
persistent； so cringing； and flexible； he howled so when he was
hurt； that the master hated more the teacher who sent him than
he hated the boy himself。 For of the boy he was sick of the
sight。 Which Williams knew。 He grinned visibly。
Ursula turned to the map again； to go on with the geography
lesson。 But there was a little ferment in the class。 Williams'
spirit infected them all。 She heard a scuffle； and then she
trembled inwardly。 If they all turned on her this time； she was
beaten。
〃Please； miss〃 called a voice in distress。
She turned round。 One of the boys she liked was ruefully
holding out a torn celluloid collar。 She heard the plaint；
feeling futile。
〃Go in front； Wright；〃 she said。
She was trembling in every fibre。 A big； sullen boy； not bad
but very difficult； slouched out to the front。 She went on with
the lesson； aware that Williams was making faces at Wright； and
that Wright was grinning behind her。 She was afraid。 She turned
to the map again。 And she was afraid。
〃Please； miss； Williams〃 came a sharp cry； and
a boy on the back row was standing up； with drawn； pained brows；
half a mocking grin on his pain； half real resentment against
Williams……〃Please； miss； he's nipped me；〃……and he
rubbed his leg ruefully。
〃e in front； Williams；〃 she said。
The rat…like boy sat with his pale smile and did not
move。
〃e in front；〃 she repeated； definite now。
〃I shan't；〃 he cried； snarling； rat…like； grinning。 Something
went click in Ursula's soul。 Her face and eyes set； she went
through the class straight。 The boy cowered before her
glowering； fixed eyes。 But she advanced on him； seized him by
the arm； and dragged him from his seat。 He clung to the form。 It
was the battle between him and her。 Her instinct had suddenly
bee calm and quick。 She jerked him from his grip； and dragged
him； struggling and kicking； to the front。 He kicked her several
times； and clung to the forms as he passed； but she went on。 The
class was on its feet in excitement。 She saw it； and made no
move。
She knew if she let go the boy he would dash to the door。
Already he had run home once out of her class。 So she snatched
her cane from the desk； and brought it down on him。 He was
writhing and kicking。 She saw his face beneath her； white； with
eyes like the eyes of a fish； stony； yet full of hate and
horrible fear。 And she loathed him； the hideous writhing thing
that was nearly too much for her。 In horror lest he should
overe her； and yet at the heart quite calm； she brought down
the cane again and again； whilst he struggled making
inarticulate noises； and lunging vicious kicks at her。 With one
hand she managed to hold him； and now and then the cane came
down on him。 He writhed； like a mad thing。 But the pain of the
strokes cut through his writhing； vicious； coward's courage； bit
deeper； till at last； with a long whimper that became a yell； he
went limp。 She let him go； and he rushed at her； his teeth and
eyes glinting。 There was a second of agonized terror in her
heart： he was a beast thing。 Then she caught him； and the cane
came down on him。 A few times； madly； in a frenzy； he lunged and
writhed； to kick her。 But again the cane broke him； he sank with
a howling yell on the floor； and like a beaten beast lay there
yelling。
Mr。 Harby had rushed up towards the end of this
performance。
〃What's the matter？〃 he roared。
Ursula felt as if something were going to break in her。
〃I've thrashed him；〃 she said； her breast heaving； forcing
out the words on the last breath。 The headmaster stood choked
with rage； helpless。 She looked at the writhing； howling figure
on the floor。
〃Get up；〃 she said。 The thing writhed away from her。 She took
a step forward。 She had realized the presence of the headmaster
for one second； and then she was oblivious of it again。
〃Get up；〃 she said。 And with a little dart the boy was on his
feet。 His yelling dropped to a mad blubber。 He had been in a
frenzy。
〃Go and stand by the radiator；〃 she said。
As if mechanically； blubbering； he went。
The headmaster stood robbed of movement or speech。 His face
was yellow； his hands twitched convulsively。 But Ursula stood
stiff not far from him。 Nothing could touch her now： she was
beyond Mr。 Harby。 She was as if violated to death。
The headmaster muttered something； turned； and went down the
room； whence； from the far end； he was heard roaring in a mad
rage at his own class。
The boy blubbered wildly by the radiator。 Ursula looked at
the class。 There were fifty pale； still faces watching her； a
hundred round eyes fixed on her in an attentive； expressionless
stare。
〃Give out the history readers；〃 she said to the monitors。
There was dead silence。 As she stood there； she could hear
again the ticking of the clock； and the chock of piles of books
taken out of the low cupboard。 Then came the faint flap of books
on the desks。 The children passed in silence； their hands
working in unison。 They were no longer a pack； but each one
separated into a silent； closed thing。
〃Take page 125； and read that chapter；〃 said Ursula。
There was a click of many books opened。 The children found
the page； and bent their heads obediently to read。 And they
read； mechanically。
Ursula； who was trembling violently； went and sat in her high
chair。 The blubbering of the boy continued。 The strident voice
of Mr。 Brunt； the roar of Mr。 Harby； came muffled through the
glass partition。 And now and then a pair of eyes rose from the
reading…book； rested on her a moment； watchful； as if
calculating impersonally； then sank again。
She sat still without moving； her eyes watching the class；
unseeing。 She was quite still； and weak。 She felt that she could
not raise her hand from the desk。 If she sat there for ever； she
felt she could not move again； nor utter a mand。 It was a
quarter…past four。 She almost dreaded the closing of the school；
when she would be alone。
The class began to recover its ease； the tension relaxed。
Williams was still crying。 Mr。 Brunt was giving orders for the
closing of the lesson。 Ursula got down。
〃Take your place； Williams；〃 she said。
He dragged his feet across the room； wiping his face on his
sleeve。 As he sat down； he glanced at her furtively； his eyes
still redder。 Now he looked like some beaten rat。
At last the children were gone。 Mr。 Harby trod by heavily；
without looking her way； or speaking。 Mr。 Brunt hesitated as she
was locking her cupboard。
〃If you settle Clarke and Letts in the same way； Miss
Brangwen； you'll be all right；〃 he said； his blue eyes glancing
down in a strange fellowship； his long nose pointing at her。
〃Shall I？〃 she laughed nervously。 She did not want anybody to
talk to her。
As she went along the street； clattering on the granite
pavement； she was aware of boys dodging behind her。 Something
struck her hand that was carrying her bag； bruising her。 As it
rolled away she saw t