permissible.
On rubbery legs, she crossed the floor to her cupboard and pulled out her black wool gown. She pulled her nightgown over her head and replaced it with a clean shift and drawers. When she had completed those tasks, she was suddenly bereft of strength, and her legs began to tremble. She caught herself by grabbing the cupboard door, and it swung wider under the pressure of her weight, revealing the mirror that hung inside.
For an instant Aisleen stood staring in mute disbelief at her reflection, and then she was tumbling, tumbling, falling into a deep abyss.
When her rap on the door was not answered, Mrs. Greesham pushed the door open with her elbow and backed in, carrying Aisleen’s tray. The sight that greeted her when she turned around made her drop her tray with a cry.
Aisleen lay sprawled on the floor in a shift. All the girl’s lovely red hair had been shaved off, and her fragile skull was as smooth and pink as a newborn babe’s.
* * *
Aisleen shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot. Three months had passed since her illness, but she was still very shy before others. Surreptitiously she touched the short curl that had escaped from beneath her cap. She had a head of ringlets now, as bright and curly as before. The fact annoyed Miss Burke, but the woman had not mentioned it except to remind Aisleen to keep her head covered.
“Very good, Jane. You may step down. Next!” Miss Burke called crisply.
Aisleen stepped forward to stand before the class, her chin lifted in defiance of the fear she felt at being singled out before the other girls.
Miss Burke looked up in surprise. “Alice Fitzgerald! I did not expect you to stand forth for the year-end examination. Your illness required you to lose many hours of class work.”
Aisleen took a deep breath. “I have studied for it, ma’am.”
“Have you, indeed? We shall see. Let us begin.”
Half an hour later Miss Burke looked up from her tally of Aisleen’s answers, and a begrudging respect lit her eyes. “You have qualified to advance to next year’s class, Alice. I am quite amazed.”
Aisleen smiled shyly, not certain that any reply was required.
Miss Burke turned to the class of girls. “It is my hope that you will report this girl’s proficiency to your parents as an example of the remarkable work that may take place under my tutelage. Alice came to us a veritable heathen with a detestable brogue. And while we have not yet broken the back of that deplorable habit, we at Burke Academy have been able to instill a modicum of other skills in language, mathematics, and the graces in her. It is my hope that further studies shall advance her to the degree that any of her acquaintances will not blush to be seen in her company.” With this dubious compliment ringing in her ears, Aisleen descended to her seat. She had learned something valuable in the last minutes. The way to win Miss Burke’s approval was to excel in her studies. If she worked very hard at her lessons, perhaps there would be fewer potatoes that needed peeling in future.
Spring 1847
“As you have heard, your father is dead these past two weeks,” Miss Burke continued in an even tone. “The Gilliams were unable to reach us in time for you to be sent home for the funeral, and it is my belief that it is just as well. Your studies would have been interrupted, and you would not have been present to pass your term exams. Do you have any questions?”
Aisleen held the scrawled note from her mother so tightly that it was crimped. “How did he die?”
“Run down by a dray cart in Dublin,” Miss Burke answered, her tone implying what she thought of so ignoble a death. “It is believed that he died instantly. Tragic, of course, but preferable to a lingering death.”
Aisleen nodded slowly. Preferable. He was drunk. She did not need anyone to tell her that. The Gilliams had been quite frank in their letters to their daughter, and through Ella she knew that her father had moved to
On rubbery legs, she crossed the floor to her cupboard and pulled out her black wool gown. She pulled her nightgown over her head and replaced it with a clean shift and drawers. When she had completed those tasks, she was suddenly bereft of strength, and her legs began to tremble. She caught herself by grabbing the cupboard door, and it swung wider under the pressure of her weight, revealing the mirror that hung inside.
For an instant Aisleen stood staring in mute disbelief at her reflection, and then she was tumbling, tumbling, falling into a deep abyss.
When her rap on the door was not answered, Mrs. Greesham pushed the door open with her elbow and backed in, carrying Aisleen’s tray. The sight that greeted her when she turned around made her drop her tray with a cry.
Aisleen lay sprawled on the floor in a shift. All the girl’s lovely red hair had been shaved off, and her fragile skull was as smooth and pink as a newborn babe’s.
* * *
Aisleen shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot. Three months had passed since her illness, but she was still very shy before others. Surreptitiously she touched the short curl that had escaped from beneath her cap. She had a head of ringlets now, as bright and curly as before. The fact annoyed Miss Burke, but the woman had not mentioned it except to remind Aisleen to keep her head covered.
“Very good, Jane. You may step down. Next!” Miss Burke called crisply.
Aisleen stepped forward to stand before the class, her chin lifted in defiance of the fear she felt at being singled out before the other girls.
Miss Burke looked up in surprise. “Alice Fitzgerald! I did not expect you to stand forth for the year-end examination. Your illness required you to lose many hours of class work.”
Aisleen took a deep breath. “I have studied for it, ma’am.”
“Have you, indeed? We shall see. Let us begin.”
Half an hour later Miss Burke looked up from her tally of Aisleen’s answers, and a begrudging respect lit her eyes. “You have qualified to advance to next year’s class, Alice. I am quite amazed.”
Aisleen smiled shyly, not certain that any reply was required.
Miss Burke turned to the class of girls. “It is my hope that you will report this girl’s proficiency to your parents as an example of the remarkable work that may take place under my tutelage. Alice came to us a veritable heathen with a detestable brogue. And while we have not yet broken the back of that deplorable habit, we at Burke Academy have been able to instill a modicum of other skills in language, mathematics, and the graces in her. It is my hope that further studies shall advance her to the degree that any of her acquaintances will not blush to be seen in her company.” With this dubious compliment ringing in her ears, Aisleen descended to her seat. She had learned something valuable in the last minutes. The way to win Miss Burke’s approval was to excel in her studies. If she worked very hard at her lessons, perhaps there would be fewer potatoes that needed peeling in future.
Spring 1847
“As you have heard, your father is dead these past two weeks,” Miss Burke continued in an even tone. “The Gilliams were unable to reach us in time for you to be sent home for the funeral, and it is my belief that it is just as well. Your studies would have been interrupted, and you would not have been present to pass your term exams. Do you have any questions?”
Aisleen held the scrawled note from her mother so tightly that it was crimped. “How did he die?”
“Run down by a dray cart in Dublin,” Miss Burke answered, her tone implying what she thought of so ignoble a death. “It is believed that he died instantly. Tragic, of course, but preferable to a lingering death.”
Aisleen nodded slowly. Preferable. He was drunk. She did not need anyone to tell her that. The Gilliams had been quite frank in their letters to their daughter, and through Ella she knew that her father had moved to
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