The Calligrapher's Daughter Read Online Free PDF

pink face.
    Miss Gordon, tall, with jarring blue eyes magnified in round gold-framed glasses, had pillowy cheeks, a sharp nose that ended in a small flat plateau, a halo of busy pale reddish brown curls which refused to be contained in a knotted hair bun, and freckles. Until Haejung had seen more Westerners with freckles, she thought the missionary suffered an unfortunate skin ailment. She stood and bowed and Miss Gordon bowed in return. The missionary’s bows had become more natural since the last time she’d seen her.
    “How do you do?” Miss Gordon indicated they should sit. “I’ve been wanting to talk to you and I’m sorry it’s taken this long.”
    Haejung noticed that the missionary’s Korean had improved too. “Yes, how do you do? The pleasure of seeing you has been missed for some time.” Her gracious formality hid her curiosity, having never had a conversation of any length with Miss Gordon.
    “I think the men are having an impromptu meeting. If I’m not interrupting and you have a moment …”
    “Not at all. I’m at your service.”
    “You’ve seen the new building in the back?”
    “The new mission offices? Or is it— Pardon me for asking, someone mentioned it might be living quarters for new missionaries.”
    Miss Gordon removed her gloves. “It was meant to be both, but we’ve decided to make it a school. You’ve heard about the new policies?”
    Haejung’s stomach leaped. She deliberately relaxed her shoulders and shook her head, no.
    With an urgency that Haejung began to see was the missionary’s characteristic manner, Miss Gordon explained how they’d decided to take advantage of education reforms instituted by the new, more liberal Governor-General Hasegawa, and were transforming the finished building into a private school—a Christian school just for girls! Unlike his more militant predecessor, Hasegawa didn’t believe that churches were hotbeds of subversion and that all Christians were seditionists. He advocated a milder colonial policy, and nationals were now permitted to teach elementary grades one through four for children ages eight through eleven.
    While she talked, Miss Gordon crossed and uncrossed her legs, rested her arm over the back of the pew and fussed with the gloves in her lap. She described the curriculum and the schedule of a typical school day. Hearing all this and influenced by the missionary’s fidgeting, Haejung thought that her own ears might be wiggling, or that she might lean forward so much as to fall off the seat. She straightened her back and remained outwardly composed.
    “—and a young woman who was in one of the first graduating classes at Ewha College has just been hired. She’ll teach the first grade. That’s where I’ve been, in Seoul, interviewing and helping our new teacher and her family move to Gaeseong. Her surname is Yee,” Miss Gordon hurried on. “She’s lovely, from a yangban family and a devout Christian. I’m toldshe was a wonderful student, highly ranked. And she plays piano beautifully”. The missionary’s eyeglasses twinkled in the church’s electric lights, and rainbow reflections from the windows flashed across the lenses. “May I ask your daughter’s age?”
    That morning, anticipating her daughter’s birthday, Haejung had calculated the ninth lunar month and seventeenth day to her Western calendar, an annual Christmas gift from the church that she’d hung in her sitting room. “Her birthday’s next week. She’s nine.”
    “That’d be second—well, that should work. The first class is only half full and the second doesn’t have a teacher yet. We’ve combined the classes for the time being. I hope you won’t think it’s beneath her to attend the first grade even though she should be in second. In any case, the few times I’ve led Sunday school have clearly shown me how bright she is, and her inquisitive nature is obvious. I’m sure she’d take to it regardless.”
    Somewhat puzzled by this speech,