The two friends didn’t say anything more about it, and Maud was relieved when Jack went off to school soon after she arrived.
Between the awkward reunions and the many whispers when she entered the church, Maud found her first Sunday trying. She hadn’t expected much, but she had thought that people might have been a little impressed by her publications. Instead, they asked if there had been any beaux, forcing Maud to lie and say that there wasn’t anyone. After the service, she overheard Mrs. Simpson mutter under her breath to her husband that Maud was definitely “giving herself airs,” being away and wearing her hair up as they did in ’town.
She tried not to let it bother her very much, but there was a part of her that now understood how truly small Cavendish was. Ancient history was like yesterday, and memories were longer than most Sunday sermons, and no matter what she did, she would always be the overly emotional daughter of Clara and Hugh Montgomery.
Still, it didn’t mean she couldn’t try to be something different than what they expected.
After the service, when Reverend Archibald was available, she asked about the possibility of teaching Sunday School. It turned out that one of the teachers had left for Charlottetown and he was in need of one. He asked Maud if she could start the following weekend.
Then, Maud walked the familiar path to the cemetery, her thumb rubbing against her finger. As she did, she wondered if Will was doing the same thing, thinking of her.
She stopped in front of Mother’s grave. Maud felt as though she understood her mother more; she was a young woman who had adored poetry and married for love. The question that still troubled Maud was, why the rush? Her parents hadn’t been married very long before she came along. Was that why? It was too scandalous to consider, and she put it out of her mind by closing her eyes and concentrating on the feeling of the wind against her skin.
Maud opened her eyes and the ache of another unanswered question settled in her soul. What was she going to do? She felt rudderless, adrift. She needed a plan. Her grandparents had started to give her more responsibility at the post office, but she needed to get back to school—she just wasn’t sure how to bring it up.
“Is that you, Maud?” A familiar voice interrupted her thoughts.
Miss Gordon! Here was a person who could help her figure out what that plan might be.
“Miss Gordon, how are you?” Maud exclaimed, and Miss Gordon enveloped her in a hug. She looked as stylish as ever in a brown Bedford cord lady’s jacket. Maud had seen something similar in the copy of Harper’s Bazaar she had bought in Toronto.
“You’ve really grown up, Maud,” Miss Gordon said when they broke apart. “I almost didn’t recognize you.”
“I suspect it is the hair,” Maud said.
“Yes, that must be it.” She smiled. “I was just on my way to the Lairds’ for Sunday dinner, but I knew when I saw you, I had to stop.” She frowned. “You haven’t been to see me.”
“I’ve been settling in.”
“I’m sure,” Miss Gordon said. “But I had hoped you would come back to school.”
“It’s too late.”
“It’s never too late, Maud,” she said.
“I don’t know about that,” Maud said.
“Your letters indicated that your experience in Prince Albert wasn’t”—she clasped her hands—“quite what you hoped it would be.”
Maud had finally told Miss Gordon the truth about school and Mr. Mustard in a letter last spring. “It was definitely disappointing.”
“I was sorry to hear it. I had the impression the authorities out West were getting the best-educated teachers from Ontario.”
“Perhaps, but a good education doesn’t always mean a good teacher.” Maud surprised herself with this answer. She opened her mouth as if to apologize, but Miss Gordon stopped her.
“No, you’re quite right, Maud. Not everyone is meant to teach.”
Maud watched the Gulf below. “I-I’m not sure what my grandfather will say about my returning, but I know I need to finish my year and study to prepare for the entrance exams if I’m going to get into college.”
“You know, I was so impressed to see those essays and your poem in the paper,” Miss Gordon said. “Wouldn’t your grandfather have a similar attitude?”
“Perhaps, but he’s never said.” That would mean praising her.
“That doesn’t mean he’s not proud of you.”
“Perhaps.”
“Try again. Then come and see me and we’ll settle on a course of study so you can catch up and be ready for the Prince of Wales College examination in Charlottetown next summer. It isn’t Acadia, I know, but it is a good school and not too far from Cavendish. The cost is seven dollars a term, plus room and board. And they are accepting women.”
“Prince of Wales College?”
“Yes? Isn’t that what you want?”
Maud took a deep breath. “Yes. It’s exactly what I want.”
CHAPTER FIVE
Maud didn’t think Grandfather was any closer to changing his opinion about the appropriateness of higher education for girls. Grandpa Montgomery might have even paid for college if she had been a boy! If she was going to get to college, she was going to have to convince Grandfather she was worthy of it first.
Sunday was not a day to ask Grandfather anything, so Maud waited until dinner the following evening to discuss it with him. She was as nervous as the time when she had asked to attend Reverend Mr. Carruthers’s lecture two years ago. How important it had seemed at the time.
When Grandfather had finished his first helping of scallops and potatoes and was waiting for Grandma to serve him some more, Maud put her fork down and, in her most professional voice, said, “Grandfather, there is something I wish to speak with you about.”
Grandma gazed at Maud over the top of her spectacles as if to say, “What is it now?” Then she scooped a serving of potatoes onto her husband’s plate.
“What is it?” he said.
“Well…it’s…” Why was it, when he looked at her like she was sent from faerieland, all the words she had ever known fell away?
“You know what I say, ‘Speak your mind because no one else is going to speak it for you.’ ” Grandfather scooped some potatoes into his mouth.
“I saw Miss Gordon yesterday,” she said.
“Ah, Miss Gordon. She is doing much better than that last one. Certainly able to handle the classroom,” he said.
“I think so.” He’d complimented Miss Gordon, which was promising. “She said I could return to school this year and prepare for the entrance exams to Prince of Wales College.”
Grandfather stopped chewing for a moment, and then swallowed. “It isn’t too late to sit the exams?”
“No. Not too late. If I study this year, I can take the exams in June.”
He put his fork down, wiped his chin with his napkin, and scrunched it in his left hand on the table. “Maud, you know we’ve always thought it was important that you received a good education. You even had an extra year of high school.”
Maud opened her mouth to say something, but a look from her grandmother encouraged her to close it.
“You’ve had enough school, more than most girls. I don’t see why you need to bother yourself with more.”
“It wouldn’t be a bother,” she said. “I hope to get my teaching certificate.”
“You do, do you?” He scoffed. “You know what I think about educating women. It is fine to learn to read and write, but getting one of those BAs or certificates will muddle your mind. You remember that confounded woman who lived with us. That is what comes of higher education for girls!”
But Miss Gordon was respected in Cavendish; why couldn’t he see that? She pushed on. “Grandfather, you know I’ve been published in the newspaper. Going to school will give me the credentials I need to make a go of it.”
“As a teacher, you would be no better than a nanny,” he said. “No granddaughter of mine will lower herself.”
&nb
sp; Having played nanny, Maud knew they were quite different. One more go. “If I try for a scholarship, can I go?”
Grandfather stood up. The discussion was over. “You’ve heard my decision, Maud. You can do that scribbling of yours, but your duty is here, not in some college in the city.”
Maud couldn’t breathe. It was as though she had been turned to stone. There was no justice here. Grandfather had brought down his judgment and his decision was final. Why did she think she could convince him? She was powerless.
Slowly, Maud helped Grandma clear the dishes. Why couldn’t she support her granddaughter for once?
As Maud washed the old china, she had an image of herself doing the same thing, washing the same dishes, day after day for the next ten years, twenty. She would be opening Laura’s and Will’s ten-year letters in this same kitchen.
Nothing would have changed.
CHAPTER SIX
What had changed was Mollie and Pensie, who no longer even tried to hide their dislike for one another, making it very difficult for Maud. She often felt like she was betraying Pensie if she decided to go left to Mollie’s house, and Mollie if she turned right to Pensie’s.
Neither girl was interested in leaving Cavendish, and while they still listened to Maud talk about Prince Albert or college, it was clear that—now they had both finished school—they would rather talk about finding a husband. Mollie was additionally distressed because she had been tasked with helping her mother care for her often-ill father. Mollie didn’t want to let on, but Grandma had told Maud that his moods were getting worse.
It was odd, then, walking to school the following day with Lu, who had grown tall this past year. Now fourteen, Lu had confided to Maud that she had started counting her nine stars—and who she hoped her husband might be.
Had it only been two years since Maud had walked with Nate, since he’d been her nine stars?
The schoolhouse was exactly the same, even the cipher Nate had carved over Maud’s hook was still there. But everyone else was either gone or moving forward, while she was stuck here in Cavendish, forced to be dependent upon her family’s generosity.
When Maud told Miss Gordon what her grandfather had said, her teacher crossed her arms and began to pace in front of the blackboard that held the day’s British history assignment. Maud would have given anything to sit at her old desk and study British history.
Miss Gordon faced the blackboard, her two index fingers tapping against her lips. “You know,” she eventually said, “I’m going to need a lot of help this year. I have a much bigger class.”
“Yes, but—”
“It would be so helpful for me, Maud. And you must also assist me with the Christmas concert. You’ve always had such a flair for these things.” Miss Gordon paused. “It is your duty, after all.”
“My duty,” Maud said.
“Yes.” Miss Gordon smiled. “Your duty.”
Maud began to understand. Her grandparents couldn’t object if she was performing Christian charity by helping her teacher. What would the community say if she said no?
Miss Gordon was right. Grandma certainly didn’t mind Maud “doing her duty” by helping the teacher. Maud started the following day. And while her grandfather didn’t want her to “fill her head with more foolishness,” he also wouldn’t stop a woman from performing her Christian duty.
—
It was comforting returning to the dependability of school every day, which still smelled of pine, chalk, and the lemon polish Miss Gordon had the students use to clean the desks. But, there were also those whom she had gone to school with before, junior students now in the upper levels, like Austin Laird. Always the joker, Austin tended to make trouble by teasing the girls, and more than once Miss Gordon had to send him to the corner for misconduct. Maud knew that if she were still a student, she would have laughed along with the class, but being in a position of authority, she kept her feelings hidden. Luckily, Maud didn’t have to deal with discipline, as Miss Gordon tasked her with handing out papers or teaching the young ones to read.
One afternoon, when Maud had been helping Miss Gordon for a few weeks, the teacher handed her a stack of papers and books. There were a number of small assignments on different subjects, such as math and history, but the overall material was much more advanced than what Miss Gordon was teaching.
“Read through these lessons and come see me about them later this week.”
“There’s so much! How will I do this on my own?” Maud said. And to what end?
“You’re not on your own. I’m here, and if anyone asks, you are helping me,” she said. “Now, go and ring the bell.”
Maud took the assignments home and, after sorting mail for Grandma in the post office, looked them over again. Miss Gordon had laid out a list of readings and lessons in all of the subjects Maud would need to prepare for the college entrance examination. Maud steadied her hands so they would stop shaking. If her grandparents discovered how Miss Gordon was secretly helping her to prepare for the forbidden examination, she would not be allowed back in that schoolhouse, Christian duty notwithstanding. But what did it matter if she couldn’t really go to college? Why should she get her hopes up? It wasn’t as though her grandparents were going to change their minds. She promptly put the pile on her bureau and pretended to forget about it.
Over the next few weeks, whenever Miss Gordon asked Maud about the assignments, she changed the subject, ignoring the teacher’s disappointed expression.
While she continued to help Miss Gordon, Maud spent her weekends in October visiting her father’s family in Park Corner and attending Uncle Cuthbert’s wedding. It was lovely connecting with her Montgomery cousins. While she was there, Grandpa Montgomery had reminded her about her travel essay. Maud had worked on it some, but when she returned to Cavendish, she finished it and was feeling quite jubilant over sending “From Prince Albert to P.E. Island” to the Charlottetown Patriot. She felt that it was rather good, with lush descriptions of the Canadian landscape.
Then, halfway through October, Mrs. Spurr caught Maud on the way out of the Cavendish Hall. Her organ teacher still looked the same, with her gray eyes that reminded Maud too much of Nate’s. After exchanging formal greetings, Mrs. Spurr asked Maud to come for tea. On one hand, there was no way she could have politely declined, and on the other, she was very curious about what her old teacher could possibly have to say to her.
It was a golden November morning when Maud took the familiar path through the Haunted Woods for her visit to Mrs. Spurr. Maud stopped at the road, looking back over the well-traveled path behind her. It felt so familiar cutting through Lover’s Lane to Cavendish Road, up the steep hill to the Baptist minister’s gray-bricked manse, which—despite her bittersweet parting from Nate—welcomed her.
Mrs. Spurr brought Maud into the familiar parlor, where she half expected to find Nate sitting in his favorite chair reading a book and waiting to walk her home. Mrs. Spurr was wearing a dark woven skirt and a lace blouse with very fine stitching along the neck and wrists. Most Baptist minister’s wives were dowdy in comparison to her old organ teacher, who always added a bit of tasteful finery to what she wore.
As Mrs. Spurr gracefully moved around pouring the tea, she asked Maud all the typical questions about her year in Prince Albert. By now, Maud had well-rehearsed answers, often referring to her essay about Saskatchewan, “A Western Eden.” She carefully avoided mentioning Mr. Mustard or Will because this often led to questions about romance. That was the last thing she needed. Not when she was trying to prove to Grandfather how serious she was about school.
When Maud and Mrs. Spurr had settled themselves in front of a warm, friendly fire and had drunk enough tea, Mrs. Spurr began to talk about Nate and how well his studies were going at Acadia: he was top of his class and president of the sophomore class. The chair dug into Maud’s back. And it was difficult balancing the saucer in one hand, and the teacup in the other. Placing them carefully down on the dark wooden table, she
picked up a ginger snap, delicately chewing each bite.
When Maud was through her third ginger snap, Mrs. Spurr went over to the mantel, picked up a photograph, and brought it over. “He had this photograph done in Halifax this past spring.” She handed it to Maud. “Isn’t it well-taken?”
Maud stared at the image of the first boy who had told her he loved her. His haircut made his ears stick out, something she still found endearing; the memory made her smile. He wasn’t smiling, though. There was an air of confidence she didn’t like one bit.
“Yes, it is well-taken,” Maud lied, and placed it on the table beside them.
“It’s so important for a boy to get a good education,” Mrs. Spurr said. “It sets him out into the world on the right foot.”
It was important for a woman to get one too, Maud thought to herself.
“I think if a person can prepare himself through education and good service, he will make a good show of it,” Mrs. Spurr continued, and then took a sip of tea. “I couldn’t ask better for Nate. My husband has indeed been generous.”
Maud couldn’t help thinking that Mrs. Montgomery could have taken a lesson or two from Reverend Spurr.
“He’s very fortunate,” Maud said.
“Weren’t you continuing your studies in Prince Albert?” Mrs. Spurr said. “You were one of the top scholars here in Cavendish.”
“That’s kind of you to say. I was merely adequate—especially at the organ,” Maud said.
Mrs. Spurr laughed. “In truth, you were more than adequate—if I could get you to focus. Oh, don’t give me that horrified look. I was a young girl too, once.” She took a sip of tea. “Never tell my son this, but I think you were good for Nate.”
Maud would never admit it, but he had been good for her too.
“You inspired him to take his studies a little more seriously. And you also got him interested in my brother-in-law Pastor Felix, the writer.”
“I do admire his work,” Maud said, and took another bite of ginger snap.
Maud Page 28
