My Heart's in the Highlands
Copyright© 2024 by Amy Le Feuvre
Chapter 6: Miss Falconer
“Who gives himself airs of importance exhibiteth the credentials
of impotence.”
Lavater.
AUGUST came, and gradually the neighbourhood began to grow lively with visitors and tourists. Once or twice Rowena had visits from the Frasers. And then one day Miss Falconer came. Rowena had written to her and asked her to come to tea. Mysie had had a good deal to tell Rowena about her new governess.
“You won’t mind anything I say, will you? I beseech you to let me talk anyhow! When I’m with Dad I don’t. He says I must respect and obey Miss Falconer.”
“So you must, you little imp! But you can tell me anything you like.”
“Then can you really like a person you respect and obey?”
“Rather. You can’t like people unless you do respect them. You respect your Dad. I hope you respect me.’
“And I hope you respect me,” put in Mysie eagerly. “Do you?”
“Yes, I do,” Rowena said promptly. “I respect your feelings, and wouldn’t hurt them for the world.”
“Then,” said Mysie with big earnest eyes; “that’s just what’s the matter with Miss Falconer, she’s always hurting me inside. She smiles, and she never loses her temper; but she says things that shows me she’s mocking me. And I can bear it all except her laughing at fairies and all the stories Angus tells me. Dad says she’s not a true Highlander, but she says she’s related to them. And she laughs at Flora—she calls her a misguided, ‘motional female; and Prince Charlie, she actually calls him a rascal, and says he lived to be a bad old man!”
“She’s not a Jacobite,” said Rowena. “Lots of good people didn’t like Prince Charlie. They were staunch and loyal to their own king.”
She found it rather difficult to comfort Mysie. And when Miss Falconer came to see her, she resolved she would say something to her about her little pupil’s romantic tendencies. She found her an extremely pleasant and clever young woman. Her fair golden hair, delicate pointed pale face, and large dark eyes gave her a very refined and youthful look. But her conversation was stimulating and Rowena quite enjoyed her little talk with her on the current topics of the day.
“My friends tell me I am burying myself alive here,” said Miss Falconer; “but all through my busiest times I looked forward to a country cottage as a far-away ideal to be realized. And when I came into a little money and had a breakdown I thankfully came off here. My cousin, Lady Grant, told me about it. They will be coming here in September. I suppose you know them?”
“The Grants of Dalghetty? Yes.”
“I have wanted to see you so much. I heard that you, like myself, are driven by your health into forced seclusion. Does the quiet really rest you, or does it after a time irritate and bore you?”
“It doesn’t irritate me,” said Rowena. “But I dare say in my case the contrast is not so marked. I have not been like you, one of the world’s workers.”
“But during the war surely you did something?”
“Nothing but look after my sister-in-law and her children.”
Miss Falconer’s face expressed surprise and disapproval.
“I was working at fever heat those four years. I could not give up my teaching. I was at a High School in Hampstead, but in my off hours I did canteen work. And, in addition, I was coaching Ambulance classes. I longed to go abroad. But I could not be spared. That was a real grief to me. When I first came here, I felt exhausted with life; then, after a good bit of rest, I began to long to communicate myself to somebody. Do you know that craving? I have so much that I feel I must give out—share with my fellow-creatures. I tried to befriend the parish schoolmaster. What an antiquated, conservative bit of humanity he is! and so slow in his drawling speech that I have not the patience to listen to him! It was through him that I heard of little Mysie Macdonald. I hope he does not bear me a grudge for taking her away from him, but really, what kind of education do you think he could give her? I dare say he may do very well for the Highland children, but Mysie is too quick and clever to be placed in their groove.”
“Then you find her clever?”
“On the surface, very—but she is sadly wanting in stability of thought and in solid perseverance.”
“She’s rather small for that.”
“My dear Miss Arbuthnot, a child’s never too small to be trained in good habits.”
“She’s a fascinating monkey. A very pleasant companion I find her. I love her mystical and romantic beliefs in all our Highland folk-lore. Whatever you do, don’t take that from her.”
“Oh, all that comes from her being brought up by these Highland servants. If I were not so intensely fond of teaching, I should be rather downhearted sometimes. For, my dear Miss Arbuthnot, it is hard to get some children to learn, but it is a thousand times more difficult to get them to unlearn. And that is the bed-rock with Mysie. I must shatter some of her ignorant prejudices before I can start to build.”
“Don’t shatter her faith. It’s such a precious quality.”
“Would you have a clever child believe in witches, and incantation, and barbaric superstitions?”
“Yes, I would,” said Rowena with a little laugh, “till they can replace them with other things. A child ought to have strong faith when she is young. You’ll turn her into a critical unhuman little prig if you make her sceptical of all the beautiful childish imaginary folk-lore we have here.”
“And what about religion?”
“Oh, her father will teach her that. He has enough himself and to spare.”
“A growing girl has such an infinite amount to learn,” said Miss Falconer; “the growth of her threefold nature demands it. Mysie is past the age for pretty fancies. I want to teach her the worth of her body, soul and spirit. Her body and her soul, or intellect, I feel I am well able to cope with, but as regards her religion I want to have a talk with her father about that. I keep an open mind myself. I have had Roman Catholic pupils, Anglican and Nonconformist. I have had one or two Mohammedan pupils, and my rule is to train them absolutely in their parents’ creed and faith.”
Rowena felt this delicate young woman was rather astonishing her.
“Can you teach what you do not believe yourself?” she inquired.
“Assuredly. I have always had the power of throwing my whole soul into the subject which I am studying. My head grips it and holds it, though my heart remains untouched.”
“Mere mechanical motion,” murmured Rowena; “well, machinery accomplishes wonders nowadays. But you cannot inspire them with enthusiasm if you do not feel it yourself.”
“Enthusiasm is not good in religion,” said Miss Falconer calmly. “It leads to fanaticism, which is unhealthy.”
“And are you enthusiastic about nothing?” asked Rowena.
Miss Falconer’s eyes glowed.
“Ah, you ask me a great question. I want to train the girlhood of England to know their value. In these times it is more than necessary. Our sex has made great strides in all that they have put their hands to. They are the most valuable asset of the nation. Is there a single position of power or influence which woman is now not competent to fill?”
“The biggest position of power and influence for a woman is the home,” said Rowena very quietly.
Miss Falconer looked at her, and once as often before Rowena’s eyes misled her.
“You are laughing at me. Thank goodness we have enlarged our borders, and broken the chains of subservient, degrading service under the male.”
“And now we’ll have tea,” said Rowena, turning to welcome Janet with the tea tray. “Whatever the modern woman has learnt, she has not yet broken away from the thrall of the tea-cup.”
She refused to be drawn into serious discussion again, but showed her most ridiculous and frivolous side for the rest of Miss Falconer’s visit, and when she had gone she said to her dear dog:
“Shags, my dear, you took a good sniff at her, what is your honest opinion of her? I am afraid she is somewhat of a firebrand. I hardly like to think of darling warm-hearted little Mysie being brought into conformance with her will and teaching. I wonder if the laird has any idea of the character of his governess? I would enjoy hearing them have a religious talk together! Well, my dear young woman, you have a strong belief in yourself and your own power. But personally I would like you to fall head over ears in love with a man who would box your ears when you dared contradict him! You are very, very young in your self-assertiveness, and you make me feel very, very old when I am talking to you!”
It was some time before Rowena saw General Macdonald. He went up to London on business and was away ten days. Mysie seemed settling down with her governess, but the day before her father returned, she came flying over to Rowena.
“I am so excited I can’t keep still. I do hope Dad won’t forget to come home to-morrow. I want to ask you something. It’s very solemn and sober—so you’re not to laugh, and you’re to shut your eyes and listen—just like people do in a long sermon.”
“All right. Go ahead.”
Rowena was always ready to oblige her little friend. She shut her eyes obediently.
“I am ready,” she said, “and my ears are stretched as wide as they can be, quite impatient to hear.”
“You know Miss Falconer talks and talks and talks to me, and she thinks it wrong of me to be always wishing I’m a boy. She says girls are the best people that God has made. And she says I must be proud I’m a woman, for women are going to rule the world. I asked her if that meant that they need not obey anybody—and she said yes. Full freedom and liberty was a woman’s, now. So I asked her why I need obey grown-up people now—and she said it was necessary—and I asked her how long—and she said I would know when I grew up. So I said that when I was twenty need I obey Dad? And she said when I was twenty-one, I was of age, and could live my own life like a man, and then she asked me what I was going to do, that I ought to make up my mind to earn my own living, and be free of everybody. I rather like that; and I’ve made up my mind to be a traveller and discover new places. I shall travel in an airship—and just think if I could find my way to one of the stars! And Dad won’t be able to say ‘No’ to me when I’m grown-up.”
“I rather think he will,” said Rowena gravely. “Of course Miss Falconer hasn’t got a Dad to look after and to love; but your Dad will want you with him, I am sure. And by the time you will have lived with him a few more years, you will love him so much that you won’t want to leave him.”
“Perhaps he would like to come with me in my airship, but I should have to be captain. Miss Falconer says all men are worn out, and women are getting fresher and stronger every day. Dad is rather tired, you know; he says he is worn out. But I shan’t be, and when I grow big I shall be stronger than him in every way. Isn’t that splendid to think of?”
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