England -- Social life and customs -- 19th century -- Fiction; Sisters -- Fiction; Young women -- Fiction
The whole place and system overwhelmed May. The hoary dignity of the old
colleges, receptacles of the concentrated learning of ages, the crowds
of capped and gowned tutors and professors, potent representatives of
the learning of the present, even the shoals of young men who were able
to care for none of these things, and to carry their responsibilities
lightly, all to be encountered in the course of a morning walk, struck
May with a sense of inadjustable disproportion, and of intolerable
presumption on her part in pretending to be a scholar. She was still one
of a household largely composed of women, as she had been at home, but
here the household was planted where it was an innovation, in the midst
of a colony of men, which constantly threatened to sweep over it and
submerge it.
The grown-up, independent, yet disciplined routine of Thirlwall Hall,
founded as closely as possible on the venerable routine of the men's
colleges, was widely, crushingly different from life in the Old Doctor's
House at Redcross. Morning chapel, the steady business of individual
reading, the attendance on the selected courses of lectures, with the
new experience of being spoken to, and expected to take notes like men;
the walks and talks, which even with the interruptions of tennis and
boating were apt to be academically shoppy; the very afternoon tea after
evening chapel had an impressively scholastic flavour utterly foreign to
the desultory proceedings of an ordinary family circle. So had the
further reading by one's self, for one's self, to get up a particular
branch of study; the "swell dinner," as May persisted in calling it in
her own mind, though it was simple and social enough--beyond certain
indispensable forms and ceremonies--to the initiated; the withdrawal
once more to the dreary retirement of her own room, since a new girl had
neither the requisite familiarity nor the heart to go and tap at her
neighbours' doors, where no substitute for "sporting the oak" had as
yet been found, and drop in for a little purely human chatter.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account