would be mere child's play to herinstructed intelligence.
From the teacher and the lessons, Sally turned to her fellow pupils.There were about twenty of these, the sexes almost equally represented,but with the girls in a slight majority. One or two of the young menwere pale and spectacled, and so they did not interest her. The girlswere generally of a higher class than her own, were obviously alreadyemployed as clerks in offices, and were rather older than herself. Theywere the daughters of tradesmen or clerks, and all lived at home in thebetter streets of the neighbourhood. They were neatly dressed, but shewas easily the smartest of the audience. The other girls looked at herhair and her complexion, and then at each other; and a feud began. Sallywas consoled by the evident interest of the young men, who often castglances in her direction. She sat demurely, as if unconscious, but inher wicked heart there was glee at the knowledge that this same youngperson Sally, once the despised companion of May Pearcey, had in a yearattained such new charm as to be attractive to these young men. Sheshrugged her shoulders at the thought of it. Had she been an onlookershe would have been amused or cynical. As she was the cynosure of theemotional eye of the whole class she could view the natural processes ofall such gatherings with satisfaction. Her shrugs were for therespectable and alienated girls, who were like sparrows chattering overa brilliant intruder; to the young men she offered an air ofimperviousness to their cajoleries which made her seem to at least threeof them a young person whom it might be pleasant and titillating toknow. The general arrangement of feelings towards her was evident at thethird lesson. By the fourth it had taken a quite definite form. She hadexchanged conversation with the three men: she had smiled provokingly atthe girls. The girls mentioned her at home, and to their friends; theyoung men did not mention her to anybody.
The men were all older than she, were in employment, and although someof them were still at home the majority of them were in lodgings inHolloway, were lonely, and were desirous of improving their positions.This was the case with Sally's three admirers. Of the three, herimmediate favourite, because he most nearly resembled Toby in physicaltype, was a thickset dark young man with a budding black moustache andpolished eyes and a strong pink upon his cheekbones. But after she hadlooked at him a few times she decided that he had Jewish blood, and Jewswere among her aversions. So, although his name was Robertson, shepassed him over in favour of a tall, rather bony fair youth of aboutthree and twenty with smooth hair and a lean, conceited humorous face.He had assurance, which she adored, and his great length made it queerto be talking to him, because she had to look high up to see his face.He always wore a light-coloured tweed suit, and a knitted tie of aboutten different colours, and his aquiline nose and jaunty manner gave himan air of knowingness which she much appreciated. He was a stockkeeperin a publishing house, and came from the South of England. His voice waslight in tone, and he had a delightful burr. This young man, HarrySimmons, became her friend and soon walked part of the way home with herafter each lesson. He talked politics to her, and explained all sorts ofthings which she had never before known. He told her how books weremade, and how they were delivered unbound in great bales; and when shesaid "a book" meaning "a paper," he corrected her. Sally liked him. Ofthe three men she now knew well he was the best-informed. Accordinglyshe learnt more, intellectually, from him than from either of theothers. He quickly fell in love with her, which was an added pleasure;and she once or twice let him kiss her, without promising anything orrevealing the existence of Toby. She never kissed Harry in return, afact which she cherished as a proof of her innocence. But she liked himvery much, and told him more about herself than she had ever toldanybody else. And as there is nothing like the use of such care and suchflexible and uncertain kindness, when it is not calculated, fortantalising a young man who is agreeably in love with a young girl,Sally had a new delight, a new self-flattery, to cosset. The affair didnot become very desperate in Harry's case--he was too conceited, and heknew the rules of the game too well--and at length it subsided normally;but it lasted pleasantly and instructively enough for perhaps fourmonths, and the memory for both was one of smiling amusement,untempered by chagrin. Sally's one dread in the whole course of herfriendship with Harry was a dread lest Toby should see them together.That Harry should see her with Toby she did not mind, because she couldat any time have relinquished Harry without a qualm; but she loved Toby,and took care to keep secret from him on their infrequent meetingsanything which might disturb his ardent thoughts of the little girl hehad left at home.
So book-keeping went on. And so Harry went on. But by now Sally'sinterests had become many, for she was leading a busy life, and thedifficulty of maintaining all her affairs at the necessary pitch offreshness and importance in her attention was increasing. She had tothink of her work, of Madam and her now frequent fits of illness, ofGaga, of Miss Summers, of money, of Harry, of book-keeping, of clothes,and of her mother. Mrs. Perce she rarely saw during this period, becauseas Sally found new preoccupations she was bound to shed some of her oldones. She thought very nicely of Mrs. Perce; but she had at the momentno time for her. Mrs. Perce belonged to a passing stage, and had not yeta niche in the new one. Toby she saw still more seldom than anybody; butfor Toby Sally's feelings underwent no obvious change. They developed asher character matured, but they did not alter. She embraced him, as itwere, with her mind. Toby was somehow different from all the others. Hewas a part of herself. She did not know why, but he stood alone,whenever she thought of him, wonderfully strange, and strong, andenduring, as much Toby as she was Sally. She did not fear him. In someways she despised him, for being so little pliable, so little supple inhis way of managing the world. But she adored him as a man, and as asimple-minded baby who unerringly made her happy by his assurance, andflighted her by behaving as though she was something belonging solelyto himself. So long as she was confident that about nine-tenths of herlife was outside the range of Toby's understanding, Sally enjoyed hisdelusion. It gave her such a sense of superiority that she relished hersubmission to his will in all trifles. She never felt that his absencesmade him a stranger. Rather, she felt that they increased andintensified her love and her desire for him. These at least wereunabated--more ardent than ever. And the absences certainly made Tobyall the more boisterously glad to see her whenever he returned from avoyage, and more demonstratively affectionate when they were alonetogether.
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Madame Gala had returned to work and Gaga had gone into the country bythe time Sally had joined her book-keeping class; and so that matterseemed to be in abeyance. The ease with which the fabric of her newestplan had been made to collapse discomfited Sally, who was alwaysimpatient for quick results; but she did not abandon hope. She believedin her star. She had seen very little of Gaga since their dinner. He hadavoided her, with some tokens of slight constraint, although hisgreetings had been almost furtively reassuring. That alone would havemade her believe that he had not forgotten his promise. Sally badedespair stand back. Always, hitherto, she had found her own level: shewould do it again in this instance. She had the grit of the ambitiousperson who succeeds. Hers was not a vague or unwarrantable conceit: shewould work for its fulfilment. It is the mark of the great.
While she was waiting, she one day received a letter from Toby,announcing his imminent arrival in London. He would wait outside MadameGala's, and they would spend his leave together. It was now thebeginning of October, and a fine Autumn had begun. The days, althoughrapidly growing shorter, were warm and cordial. They were better thanthe summer days. There was a crispness in the air, but there was nochill. Filled with pleasure, Sally wore her prettiest clothes thatmorning, and Toby was waiting in the sunshine at the corner of thestreet, and they met with light hearts. It was just one o'clock. At oncethey found a tea-shop, and had lunch; and then Toby sprang upon her aproposal that they should go to Richmond for the afternoon, and toBrighton the following day. He appeared to have plenty of money for bothjaunts. He had planned them as soon as he knew the date of his arrival.
"
O-o-o!" cried Sally. "Brighton! The sea! Will you take me out in aboat? Better not: I should be sick. Take me on the river this afternoon,instead. No: we'll just walk in Richmond Park. Ever been to Kew, Toby?The girls say it's lovely there. What's Brighton like? I went there oncewhen I was a kid. Wasn't half fine. What d'you do there? Sit on thebeach and throw stones in the water? We might paddle. Like to see mepaddling? What time do we start?"
"Here, hold on," said Toby. They were walking to catch a Richmondomnibus. "You ask a lot of questions and don't wait for no answers. Isay ... look at that young woman there.... Look at her!"
"Well?" demanded Sally. "It's only because her shoes don't fit. Shedoesn't know how to wear high heels. That's all it is. That frock cost abit."
"Did it?" Toby jerked his head.