Australia -- Fiction; Autobiographical fiction; Bildungsromans; Melbourne (Vic.) -- Fiction; Young women -- Fiction
It certainly was an imposing building viewed from within, when the
paling-gate had closed behind them. To Laura, who came from a township
of one-storied brick or weatherboard houses, it seemed vast in its
breadth and height, appalling in its sombre greyness. Between Godmother
and Cousin Grace she walked up an asphalted path, and mounted the steps
that led to a massive stone portico. The bell Godmother rang made no
answering sound, but after a very few seconds the door swung back, and
a slender maidservant in cap and apron stood before them. She smiled at
them pleasantly, as, in Chinaman-fashion, they crossed the threshold;
then, inclining her head at a murmured word from Godmother, she
vanished as lightly as she had come, and they sat and looked about
them. They were in a plainly furnished but very lofty waiting-room.
There were two large windows. The venetian blinds had not been lowered,
and the afternoon sun, beating in, displayed a shabby patch on the
carpet. It showed up, too, a coating of dust that had gathered on the
desk-like, central table. There was the faint, distinctive smell of
strange furniture. But what impressed Laura most was the stillness. No
street noises pierced the massy walls, but neither did the faintest
echo of all that might be taking place in the great building itself
reach their ears: they sat aloof, shut off, as it were, from the living
world. And this feeling soon grew downright oppressive: it must be like
this to be dead, thought Laura to herself; and inconsequently
remembered a quarter of an hour she had once spent in a dentist's
ante-room: there as here the same soundless vacancy, the same anguished
expectancy. Now, as then, her heart began to thump so furiously that
she was afraid the others would hear it. But they, too, were subdued;
though Cousin Grace tittered continually you heard only a gentle
wheezing, and even Godmother expressed the hope that they would not be
kept waiting long, under her breath. But minute after minute went by;
there they sat and nothing happened. It began to seem as if they might
sit on for ever.
All of a sudden, from out the spacious halls of which they had caught a
glimpse on arriving, brisk steps began to come towards them over the
oilcloth--at first as a mere tapping in the distance, then rapidly
gaining in weight and decision. Laura's palpitations reached their
extreme limit--another second and they might have burst her chest.
Cousin Grace ceased to giggle; the door opened with a peculiar
flourish; and all three rose to their feet.
The person who entered was a very stately lady; she wore a cap with
black ribbons. With the door-handle still in her hand she made a slight
obeisance, in which her whole body joined, afterwards to become more
erect than before. Having introduced herself to Godmother as Mrs.
Gurley, the Lady Superintendent of the institution, she drew up a
chair, let herself down upon it, and began to converse with an air of
ineffable condescension.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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