Miss Lily’s Lovely Ladies

by Jackie French

  ‘Girls.’ Miss Lily dabbed at her mouth with her napkin. ‘If we could leave the subject of the snowman for the moment — delightful though I admit he is. I would like to go through the programme for today. As you know, Miss Higgs leaves on the twelve forty-two train.’ She smiled at Sophie, her face showing genuine regret. ‘I am so sad you have to go. At least the trains are still running, despite the snow.’

  I don’t have to leave, thought Sophie. You’ve told me to leave. The prinzessin and Miss Carlyle don’t seem to mind me. And Lady Alison doesn’t seem to like any of us, even you.

  She wondered briefly whether it was the taint of money or the sense of unwanted obligation that Lady Alison resented. Perhaps she thought all the other girls knew her season depended on paid hospitality to a colonial.

  ‘Miss Higgs, perhaps you would join me in the library after your breakfast?’

  ‘Of course, Miss Lily.’

  ‘Prinzessin, Lady Alison, Miss Carlyle, you will each find a book of woodcuts in your room. We will meet for tea at four o’clock, and discuss them.’

  Chapter 21

  Even when we take steps to create our own lives, so much is simply luck. A dog walks in front of our carriage; the carriage stops; a meeting happens or doesn’t happen; a life is changed in a few seconds that no one could predict.

  Miss Lily, 1914

  For the first time Miss Lily stood as Sophie entered the library. She held out her hands and took Sophie’s in hers. Strong hands, for someone who lifted nothing heavier than a coffee cup.

  ‘I am truly sorry you have to go, my dear. It’s been …’ she hesitated ‘… a good time.’

  ‘You don’t regret staying at Shillings longer than your usual four months?’

  ‘No.’ The teacher’s smile came back. ‘Though if I did I would never tell you. Kindness, my dear, is the most powerful of all tools, no matter what your season of life.’ Miss Lily pressed her hands again, then sat, her skirts pooling around her. ‘Will you take a final cup of coffee with me before you leave?’ She reached for the bell.

  ‘Miss Lily?’

  Miss Lily drew her hand back from the brocade bell rope. ‘You are going to ask me if you can stay.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Sophie.

  ‘One word is too brief. I have told you before, abruptness is not only bad manners, but also graceless.’

  ‘Yes, Miss Lily. I am going to ask you if I may stay here. I want,’ she chose her words carefully, ‘I want to learn about power. That’s what you really teach here, isn’t it? How even a woman can have more control over her life? It’s not just etiquette or politics. It’s how to charm men so they do what you want.’

  ‘Very good, my dear. Not quite accurate, but good.’ Miss Lily’s hands rested in her lap now. ‘I do not teach young women to be coquettes, though charm can be a weapon. Would it surprise you to know that one of the other girls has asked the same thing this morning?’

  ‘Asked if I could stay? Which one?’

  ‘Lady Alison asked me while you were making the snowman.’

  ‘Lady Alison? But she dislikes me.’

  ‘Perhaps. Perhaps she also dislikes the thought of being here alone with the prinzessin and Miss Carlyle. She would always be the odd one out.’

  ‘And if I stay, I’ll be the odd one out?’

  ‘No,’ said Miss Lily. ‘I do not think you would.’

  A clock boomed from the hall. A house such as this had many passages, so the booms echoed for a long time. Sophie counted the strikes. Nine … ten … eleven … she would miss the train if she didn’t leave soon. It was embarrassing enough to leave; worse to have to stay another day because she had missed a train. ‘I’ve been bored so long. Boring lessons, boring piano. I didn’t even know it had been so boring till I came here. You’ve made me realise that the rest of my life could be worse.’

  ‘Mother and wife on a remote property in New South Wales, with visits to a colonial city as a treat? You no longer want that?’

  ‘I don’t know what I want,’ said Sophie frankly. ‘But whatever you have planned for the next four months here will be interesting.’

  ‘Oh, yes. It will be interesting. Miss Higgs … Sophie …’ For the first time Miss Lily looked unsure. ‘I … I am not convinced you need to go to Switzerland. I know you do not want to go. I must also admit that I … I do not want to part with you. Lady Alison’s wishes must be taken into account too. Her position is so different from those of the other girls.’

  ‘You want me to stay?’ Sophie gathered the words her hostess did not seem able to say.

  ‘I have always wanted you to stay,’ said Miss Lily softly. ‘But now I am saying that if you wish, you may.’

  ‘Of course I want to! More than anything!’ To stay at Shillings, and learn the deeper recesses of the world she had taken for granted. To laugh with Hannelore.

  To be liked.

  ‘Very well.’ Miss Lily smiled, deeply, genuinely, but her tone was serious. ‘We must now have a … necessary … conversation. The other young women know that if they gossip about how they have spent their time here they will be tainted by it. But you can say what you like then vanish from any scandal back to Australia.’

  Sophie blinked. What could be scandalous about their months at Shillings?

  ‘I use the word “scandal” advisedly,’ added Miss Lily dryly. ‘The girls who come here are recommended by relatives who have also studied here. They are already part of a network of women, well connected, often influential. But you …’

  ‘I’m a cuckoo’s egg,’ said Sophie. ‘I don’t belong to any family in England. No mother to embarrass. I’m tainted anyway by corned beef, but my fortune will always secure me a reasonable life even if I’m scandalous.’ She blinked, startled by a thought. ‘My mother didn’t come here, did she?’

  ‘I have never met your mother,’ said Miss Lily.

  Sophie hesitated. The reply was ambiguous, but this wasn’t the time to question further. ‘You can trust me.’

  ‘My dear, you say that without knowing what you are to be trusted with. Very well. There is no way I can put this without being blunt. The girls who come to me each year learn how to be women of influence, and not just by making marriages that suit their own interests rather than their fathers’ pockets. They also learn how to manipulate other men, not only their husbands. Sometimes that charm need be nothing more than a smile. You will learn politics here. You will also learn … arts … that courtesans know, but that women of breeding are denied. Are you shocked?’

  Yes, thought Sophie, so shocked I have to think to breathe. But she didn’t say that to Miss Lily. ‘No. I’ve seen the bulls brought to the cows.’

  ‘The advantage of a country childhood,’ said Miss Lily wryly. Her expression was impossible to read. ‘Trust me, my dear, the ways of bulls and cows are not exactly the ones I mean.’

  ‘Isn’t it all simple?’

  ‘No, my dear. It often isn’t at all simple. But even when it is …’ Miss Lily laughed ‘… like good bread and sweet butter, the best of “simple” can be difficult to achieve. And as for why — because it will give you power.’

  ‘Courtesans —’ Sophie blushed, but said the word anyway ‘— do not have power. Women like us don’t need to know those things, do we?’

  ‘I do not teach my girls how to be courtesans. A courtesan charms only one client at a time, and receives only financial support for her pains. A respectable woman, choosing a perfect dinner, selecting exactly the right guests for a salon, hosting a discreet afternoon tea with an influential man, can be infinitely more effective than those who provide your, ahem, activities of bulls and cows. I show the girls who come here how they may charm an entire cabinet, or a king, and so wield the kind of power that will never be won by the vote alone.’

  ‘And that could be scandalous?’

  ‘A network of women, linked by their time here, affecting government policy across Europe? Of course. The concept of women who exert power would be t
errifying to most men.’ She smiled. ‘Which of course is why I do this.’

  ‘To terrify powerful men?’

  ‘No, my dear.’ Was Miss Lily trying not to laugh? ‘Or perhaps I am … What is the word that German psychoanalyst uses? Subconscious. Perhaps I am subconsciously slapping the faces of a few men who need it. But mostly, I do this because the power women wield can be discreet, and discretion can be a weapon too. A pro-peace speech in the House of Lords will be countered by an opposing one. But murmured suggestions over crumpets and tea, so subtle that the hearer thinks they are his own idea? That can have more effect than a hundred public speeches.’ She looked down at her hands, then back at Sophie again. ‘I accepted many years ago — for reasons I will not explain now, so please do not erupt into questions again — that this is the only way I can change the world for good.’

  ‘By teaching women to be powerful through being charming and inconspicuous? I’d rather have the vote,’ said Sophie.

  ‘Women who haven’t been taught to think will simply vote the way their husbands tell them to. True power is not wielded at the ballot box, but in back-room meetings. But you need not be inconspicuous, only wield your power inconspicuously, form friendships that are a network of useful contacts. I must also warn you, Miss Higgs, that far more than … bulls and cows … will be covered in the talks I have with the four of you. But too many young women go ignorant to their marriage beds, and their shock or even horror on that first night can harm not just their marriages but their whole lives.’

  Power. Strangely, Sophie’s first thought was that she might have the power to stay behind after dinner and talk business with her father and Cousin Oswald, not of having power in her marriage to Malcolm.

  Her second thought was incredulity. Impossible to think of Lady Alison learning about … bulls and cows. Not quite impossible the thought of the prinzessin …

  ‘Do the others know?’

  ‘About the political aspects of their time here? Of course. About the bulls and cows?’ Miss Lily’s smile was wide now. ‘The book they will have found in their rooms by now will make quite clear one aspect of their study. So, do you still wish to stay?’

  ‘Yes.’ She said it quickly, in case Miss Lily changed her mind again. ‘I promise I won’t tell anyone, ever, about what happens here.’

  ‘I won’t hold you quite to that. I know now that I can trust you — possibly more than any girl who has been here. What you promise me, you will keep. You might tell a friend, a lover, even another girl who might come here … All I ask is that you refrain from talk that might hurt what I regard as my life’s most important work. That you think — and preferably consult with me — before you do so. Is that acceptable?’

  ‘Of … of course. But I still don’t understand why the others are here.’ She thought of the penny broadsheets, the sort that didn’t appear to come to Shillings — or at least not into the drawing room. The sort of papers that had delighted in retelling the story of her mother. ‘The prinzessin must have enormous power. And she’s charming already.’

  ‘They will have to tell you that. You will need to trust each other. It is as good a way as any to start.’

  ‘Miss Lily — can I ask you one more question? Who are you when you’re not at Shillings?’

  ‘I assure you,’ Miss Lily’s voice was dry, ‘I don’t vanish in a puff of smoke when I leave the Hall. I simply have other interests in my life. Which I hope you will have too. We owe a duty to the world, all of us with gifts of wealth or birth. But we need lives of our own too. You cannot understand the world enough to change it for the better if you live entirely out of it — and if you have no love.’

  Sophie spoke before she thought. ‘You have love?’

  ‘Oh, yes,’ said Miss Lily softly. ‘There is love.’

  Chapter 22

  Toast should always be served with butter. Butter has a way of lubricating even the most difficult situations.

  Miss Lily, 1914

  Sophie had almost reached her room when the door next to hers opened. It was Miss Carlyle. She carried a book that she immediately hid behind her back. ‘Miss Higgs — you haven’t left yet.’

  ‘No, Miss Carlyle. Miss Lily has invited me to stay on.’

  ‘I’m so glad.’ The answer was perfunctory.

  ‘Is that the book Miss Lily asked you to read?’

  ‘Yes. I …’ Miss Carlyle’s face was half shocked, half triumphant. ‘It’s in Japanese. But the pictures! Miss Higgs, it is —’

  ‘Interesting.’ The prinzessin must have heard their voices and come out of her room. She looked amused.

  So the prinzessin had known that … cows and bulls and even more … might be mentioned here. And Miss Carlyle hadn’t, quite.

  The third door opened. ‘Miss Higgs … I … I am glad you are staying.’

  It was Lady Alison. She scratched her hands nervously.

  And Sophie saw why Lady Alison had been so nervous. She had known about the cows and bulls. And hated it. Her grandmother, Miss Lily’s friend, must have warned her. But if she found it so distasteful, why was she here?

  Sophie stepped into her own room. She gazed at the book on her bed, opened it, stared.

  No, bulls and cows did not behave like that. Or that … and certainly not that! But … this looked like it might be fun.

  Did men really look like that? And women when looked at from that angle? And, oh dear, could Mr and Mrs Overhill ever have done that?

  She wanted to keep reading — or rather looking, for the words were foreign symbols, Japanese or Chinese, she thought. She stared at the next page, the figures twisting, smiling, contorting. How could she keep a straight face at lunch after seeing that?! But it would not do today, of all days, to be late. She shoved the book under her pillow and rang the bell for Doris to dress her in clothes suitable for luncheon, not travelling.

  Tonight she must write to her father and Miss Thwaites too, to tell them of the change in plans, but not of this morning’s conversation. Certainly she could never mention the book to them. Nor Malcolm. Somehow she realised that Malcolm might not expect the manner of bulls and cows, but could be shocked that his wife knew the variety, the sheer fun contained between those pages.

  It was the first time she had deliberately hidden anything in her life from her father and Miss Thwaites, apart from that one ride to meet Malcolm. But she had Miss Lily to guide her now. She had discovered the first secret that must be kept too.

  Chapter 23

  Study small boys together; they may go for half an hour without a word, just making noises for their games. A girl will know the name of every person in the group within ten minutes and have made judgements regarding their dress and status. Which practice would prepare the better cabinet minister?

  Miss Lily, 1914

  Knowing that each of the others had seen the book too, Sophie watched them at luncheon: the prinzessin, spooning up chicken consommé, discreetly amused; Miss Carlyle, dissecting her cutlet from the bone, looking as if she had not quite hidden her glee at what surely must be secret knowledge, for if mothers told their daughters that to prepare them for marriage, then Miss Thwaites would have told Sophie too; and Lady Alison, automatically swallowing her chocolate mousse. She looked paler than usual, each mouthful a polite effort. Then Jones brought in the cheese.

  Doris hadn’t given the book a second glance. The servants knew about this too?

  The talk flowed around Sophie: talk of the day’s papers, more talk of the Balkans and their quarrels. Only Lady Alison was silent, except to thank Jones for the oatmeal biscuits with her cheese.

  She needed to be part of conversations like these. She forced her mind away from the book. ‘Prinzessin, if there was ever a war between England and Germany, who would win?’ She knew the answer, of course — how could England’s empire lose? But it was the only relevant question she could think of.

  ‘Please, my friends call me Hannelore. I would be honoured if you would do the same.’


  ‘I … thank you. I’m Sophie.’

  ‘And I am Emily.’

  Lady Alison looked at her cheese.

  ‘I thank you. Germany will win, of course.’ The prinzessin — Hannelore — selected an almond from the dish on the table.

  ‘But we’re the largest empire in the world!’ Sophie was too shocked to hide her true feelings.

  ‘The sun never sets upon the British Empire? It is a most patriotic phrase. I am always wary of phrases that talk of greatness. If there is true greatness, why is there a need to tell the world?’ Hannelore regarded the cheddar. ‘Thank you, Jones. A small slice, if you please. But does the sun never set on your army, on troops who are trained and equipped? I think it does.’

  ‘Germany has nearly five million troops. We have fewer than one million.’ Emily looked in her element, prepared to memorise the name of every soldier and his battalion.

  Five million! How many people were in the whole of Australia? She didn’t know. One million? Two or three? ‘So Germany has the largest army in the world?’

  ‘Russia’s is larger. Six million,’ contributed Emily. She eyed Hannelore across the table. ‘An alliance of England and Russia would defeat Germany.’

  ‘The Russian army are serfs with pitchforks who will obey their masters. Or not, perhaps. Russia has had one revolution. It failed, but I think, next time, that it may not. I would not depend on Russia,’ Hannelore gave a delicate shrug, ‘for war or marriage.’

  ‘Russia had a revolution?’ Sophie shook her head. ‘I’m sorry. I am so ignorant.’

  Emily smiled. The pig resemblance vanished. ‘Politics gives girls brain fever. Or makes them unable to bear children. No, don’t laugh — our doctor warned my mother in just those words. The Russian Revolution was in 1905, by the way. But Hannelore is correct. Russia is deeply unstable, despite its wealth and size. The Tsar is not the ablest of men. But the United States is also mobilising half a million troops,’ she added. ‘The Americans have factories as good as Germany’s. Better, perhaps.’