struck her hand that was carrying her bag； bruising her。 As it
rolled away she saw that it was a potato。 Her hand was hurt； but
she gave no sign。 Soon she would take the tram。
She was afraid； and strange。 It was to her quite strange and
ugly； like some dream where she was degraded。 She would have
died rather than admit it to anybody。 She could not look at her
swollen hand。 Something had broken in her； she had passed a
crisis。 Williams was beaten； but at a cost。
Feeling too much upset to go home； she rode a little farther
into the town； and got down from the tram at a small tea…shop。
There； in the dark little place behind the shop； she drank her
tea and ate bread…and…butter。 She did not taste anything。 The
taking of tea was just a mechanical action； to cover over her
existence。 There she sat in the dark； obscure little place；
without knowing。 Only unconsciously she nursed the back of her
hand； which was bruised。
When finally she took her way home； it was sunset red across
the west。 She did not know why she was going home。 There was
nothing for her there。 She had； true； only to pretend to be
normal。 There was nobody she could speak to； nowhere to go for
escape。 But she must keep on； under this red sunset； alone；
knowing the horror in humanity； that would destroy her； and with
which she was at war。 Yet it had to be so。
In the morning again she must go to school。 She got up and
went without murmuring even to herself。 She was in the hands of
some bigger； stronger； coarser will。
School was fairly quiet。 But she could feel the class
watching her； ready to spring on her。 Her instinct was aware of
the class instinct to catch her if she were weak。 But she kept
cold and was guarded。
Williams was absent from school。 In the middle of the morning
there was a knock at the door： someone wanted the headmaster。
Mr。 Harby went out； heavily； angrily； nervously。 He was afraid
of irate parents。 After a moment in the passage； he came again
into school。
〃Sturgess；〃 he called to one of his larger boys。 〃Stand in
front of the class and write down the name of anyone who speaks。
Will you e this way； Miss Brangwen。〃
He seemed vindictively to seize upon her。
Ursula followed him； and found in the lobby a thin woman with
a whitish skin； not ill…dressed in a grey costume and a purple
hat。
〃I called about Vernon；〃 said the woman； speaking in a
refined accent。 There was about the woman altogether an
appearance of refinement and of cleanliness； curiously
contradicted by her half beggar's deportment； and a sense of her
being unpleasant to touch； like something going bad inside。 She
was neither a lady nor an ordinary working man's wife； but a
creature separate from society。 By her dress she was not
poor。
Ursula knew at once that she was Williams' mother； and that
he was Vernon。 She remembered that he was always clean； and
well…dressed； in a sailor suit。 And he had this same peculiar；
half transparent unwholesomeness； rather like a corpse。
〃I wasn't able to send him to school to…day；〃 continued the
woman； with a false grace of manner。 〃He came home last night
so ill……he was violently sick……I thought I
should have to send for the doctor。……You know he has a weak
heart。〃
The woman looked at Ursula with her pale； dead eyes。
〃No；〃 replied the girl； 〃I did not know。〃
She stood still with repulsion and uncertainty。 Mr。 Harby；
large and male； with his overhanging moustache； stood by with a
slight； ugly smile at the corner of his eyes。 The woman went on
insidiously； not quite human：
〃Oh； yes； he has had heart disease ever since he was a child。
That is why he isn't very regular at school。 And it is very bad
to beat him。 He was awfully ill this morning……I shall call
on the doctor as I go back。〃
〃Who is staying with him now； then？〃 put in the deep voice of
the schoolmaster； cunningly。
〃Oh； I left him with a woman who es in to help
me……and who understands him。 But I shall call in the doctor
on my way home。〃
Ursula stood still。 She felt vague threats in all this。 But
the woman was so utterly strange to her； that she did not
understand。
〃He told me he had been beaten；〃 continued the woman； 〃and
when I undressed him to put him to bed； his body was covered
with marks……I could show them to any doctor。〃
Mr。 Harby looked at Ursula to answer。 She began to
understand。 The woman was threatening to take out a charge of
assault on her son against her。 Perhaps she wanted money。
〃I caned him；〃 she said。 〃He was so much trouble。〃
〃I'm sorry if he was troublesome；〃 said the woman； 〃but he
must have been shamefully beaten。 I could show the marks to any
doctor。 I'm sure it isn't allowed； if it was known。〃
〃I caned him while he kept kicking me；〃 said Ursula； getting
angry because she was half excusing herself； Mr。 Harby standing
there with the twinkle at the side of his eyes； enjoying the
dilemma of the two women。
〃I'm sure I'm sorry if he behaved badly；〃 said the woman。
〃But I can't think he deserved beating as he has been。 I can't
send him to school； and really can't afford to pay the
doctor。……Is it allowed for the teachers to beat the
children like that； Mr。 Harby？〃
The headmaster refused to answer。 Ursula loathed herself； and
loathed Mr。 Harby with his twinkling cunning and malice on the
occasion。 The other miserable woman watched her chance。
〃It is an expense to me； and I have a great struggle to keep
my boy decent。〃
Ursula still would not answer。 She looked out at the asphalt
yard； where a dirty rag of paper was blowing。
〃And it isn't allowed to beat a child like that； I am sure；
especially when he is delicate。〃
Ursula stared with a set face on the yard； as if she did not
hear。 She loathed all this； and had ceased to feel or to
exist。
〃Though I know he is troublesome sometimes……but I think
it was too much。 His body is covered with marks。〃
Mr。 Harby stood sturdy and unmoved； waiting now to have done；
with the twinkling； tiny wrinkles of an ironical smile at the
corners of his eyes。 He felt himself master of the
situation。
〃And he was violently sick。 I couldn't possibly send him to
school to…day。 He couldn't keep his head up。〃
Yet she had no answer。
〃You will understand； sir； why he is absent；〃 she said；
turning to Mr。 Harby。
〃Oh； yes；〃 he said； rough and off…hand。 Ursula detested him
for his male triumph。 And she loathed the woman。 She loathed
everything。
〃You will try to have it remembered； sir； that he has a weak
heart。 He is so sick after these things。〃
〃Yes；〃 said the headmaster； 〃I'll see about it。〃
〃I know he is troublesome；〃 the woman only addressed herself
to the male now……〃but if you could have him punished
without beating……he is really delicate。〃
Ursula was beginning to feel upset。 Harby stood in rather
superb mastery； the woman cringing to him to tickle him as one
tickles trout。
〃I had e to explain why he was away this morning； sir。 You
will understand。〃
She held out her hand。 Harby took it and let it go； surprised
and angry。
〃Good morning；〃 she said； and she gave her gloved； seedy hand
to Ursula。 She was not ill…looking； and had a curious
insinuating way； very distasteful yet effective。
〃Good morning； Mr。 Harby； and thank you。〃
The figure in the grey costume and the purple hat was going
across the school yard with a curious lingering walk。 Ursula
felt a strange pity for her； and revulsion from her。 She
shuddered。 She went into the school again。
The next morning Williams turned up； looking paler than ever；
very neat and nicely dressed in his sailor blouse。 He glanced at
Ursula with a half…smile： cunning； subdued； ready to do as she
told him。 There was something about him that made her shiver。
She loathed the idea of having laid hands on him。 His elder
brother was standing outside the gate at playtime； a youth of
about fifteen； tall and thin and pale。 He raised his hat； almost
like a gentleman。 But there was something subdued； insidious
about him too。
〃Who is it？〃 said Ursula。
〃It's the big Williams；〃 said Violet Harby roughly。
〃She was here yesterday； wasn't she？〃
〃Yes。〃
〃It's no good her ing……her character's not good
enough for her to make any trouble。〃
Ursula shrank from the brutality and the scandal。 But it had
some vague； horrid fascination。 How sordid everything seemed！
She felt sorry for the queer woman with the lingering walk； and
those queer； insidious boys。 The Williams in her class was wrong
somewhere。 How nasty it was altogether。
So the battle went on till her heart was sick。 She had
several more boys to subjugate before she could establish
herself。 And Mr。 Harby hated her almost as if she were a man。
She knew now that nothing but a thrashing would settle some of
the big louts who wanted to play cat and mouse with her。 Mr。
Harby would not give them the thrashing if he could help it。 For
he hated the teacher； the stuck…up； insolent high…school miss
with her independence。
〃Now； Wright； what have you done this time？〃 he would say
genially to the boy who was sent to him from Standard Five for
punishment。 And he left the lad standing； lounging； wasting his
time。
So that Ursula would appeal no more to the headmaster； but；
when she was driven wild； she seized her cane； and slashed the
boy who was insolent to her； over head and ears and hands。 And
at length they were afraid of her； she had them in order。
But she had paid a great price out of her own soul； to do
this。 It seemed as if a great flame had gone through her and
burnt her sensitive tissue。 She who shrank from the thought of
physical suffering in any form； had been forced to fight and
beat with a cane and rouse all her instincts to hurt。 And
afterwards she had been forced to endure the sound of their
blubbering and desolation； when she had broken them to
order。
Oh； and sometimes she felt as if she would go mad。 What did
it matter； what did it matter if their books were dirty and they
did not obey？ She would rather； in reality； that they disobeyed
the whole rules of the school； than that they should be beaten；
broken； reduced to this crying； hopeless state。 She would rather
bear all their insults and insolences a thousand times than
reduce herself and them to this。 Bitterly she repented having
got beside herself； and having tackled the boy she had
beaten。
Yet it had to be so。 She did not want to do it。 Yet she had
to。 Oh； why； why had she leagued herself to this evil system
where she must brutalize herself to live？ Why had she bee a
school…teacher； why； why？
The children had forced her to the beatings。 No； she did not
pity them。 She had e to them full of kindness and love； and
they would have torn her to pieces。 They chose Mr。 Harby。 Well
then； they must know her as well as Mr。 Harby； they must first
be subjugate to her。 For she was not going to be made nought；
no； neither by them； nor by Mr。 Harby； nor by all the system
around her。 She was not going to be put down； prevented from
standing free。 It was not to be said of her； she could not take
her place and carry out her task。 She would fight and hold her
place in this state also； in the world of work and man's
convention。
She was isolated now from the life of her chi