10

A Wondrous Trip to the Library

An awkward silence hung in the air. Finally, I choked out, “It’s just a feeling I have when I’m around her, madam.”

“Well, I hope she has not made you too uncomfortable.”

I bit my tongue, hard enough to draw blood. “Oh no, madam. There’s nothing that need concern you.”

We concluded our interview, with her encouraging me to come and talk to her again, any morning at the breakfast hour. She had given me some small hope that she would be able to retrieve my locket, and I was grateful for that, slim as it was.

I made my way back down toward the kitchen, hoping for a late breakfast, but as I approached the door to Mr. Vaughn’s den, I heard a lively spate of cursing that sounded like it came from the master himself. I had actually stopped to listen when Mr. Vaughn saw me and called me in. He stood with an open newspaper in his paws, and said, “Miss Brown, would you be so kind as to reiterate what you told me yesterday about the incident in town?”

Nervously, I repeated the story from beginning to end.

“Now let me read to you from today’s Town Crier. ‘Vandal Caught at Post Office. Yesterday our peaceful town was disturbed by an unidentified young bear who entered the Post Office just before closing time and became violent, vandalizing the announcements board and threatening other customers. Only the quick thinking and courage of a small group of boys kept the incident from spiraling out of control. The boys wrestled the suspect to the ground, but he was assisted by an outsider and got away. Anyone with information concerning the identity of the suspect, please contact Constable Murdley.’ ”

“Oh, sir!” I exclaimed, my temper thoroughly aroused. “How can they print such lies? It wasn’t that way at all!”

“They can print them because old Mr. Babcock, the man who bought the Town Crier, is the Anthropological Society’s grand high chief himself, and he controls the news. Since he’s taken over, there have been more and more stories like this, inciting bad feeling against the Enchanted.”

“But that’s not right! No one is entitled to tell lies like that! Should I contact this Constable Murdley and tell him the truth? What will happen to that bear if he’s caught?”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if his family has already spirited him out of town. If you went to the constable, you would only be disbelieved, and perhaps become a target yourself. See to it that you don’t go into town for any reason, and leave the rest to me.”

“Yes, sir,” I replied, and was excused.

Teddy was waiting for me in the schoolroom, as was Nurse. She glowered at me with red-rimmed eyes while Teddy greeted me with a spontaneous hug and a highly polished apple. The terrible thought occurred to me that Nurse might expect to stay with us through Teddy’s lessons, and the idea depressed me unutterably. In a desperate attempt to dismiss her, I looked straight at Nurse and said, “Thank you for staying with Teddy while he waited for me. I was a little late today, but now that I am here …” I trailed off, not having the nerve to tell her to leave, but hoping she would take the obvious hint.

Nurse’s expression went from hostile to inflamed. She seemed to swell up to twice her normal size, and then declared, “Now that you’re finally here, I’ll be leaving. But don’t you go traipsing out of doors again without me, or there’s no telling what trouble you’ll get yourselves into. I’m keeping an eye on you, and that’s certain!” She spun around and made her exit with as much gravity as her short, lumpy figure would allow.

My shoulders slumped. The prospect of Nurse’s presence on what might have been pleasant rambles with Teddy completely disheartened me. I thought of going to Mr. Vaughn, or the mistress, and asking that they keep her from coming, but I knew this would fan the flames of Nurse’s hatred. Her threat to implicate me as the owner of her flask hung over me like the Sword of Damocles. And with the incident at the waterfall still fresh in their minds, the Vaughns might very well decide in favor of having two sets of eyes watching their cub anyway. Ultimately, I turned to Teddy and asked for his opinion: Would he like to have Nurse join us on our nature walks?

“Oh yes!” Teddy answered immediately. “Nurse knows lots of good places to go.”

My heart sank, but I told myself firmly that I would make a go of it for Teddy’s sake. There must be some redeeming feature in the badger’s personality for her to have earned Teddy’s affection. And if Nurse’s hostility toward me was really simple jealousy, perhaps it would help to include her in our outings. It might even be of some practical value to us to have a guide. But what a dark shadow she would cast! I gave an involuntary shudder.

Teddy and I started the day by checking on Rana, the frog, who seemed content enough in his watery lair. After that, the time passed quickly with lessons. I began teaching Teddy how to write the numbers and letters that he had already learned to recite, and how to write his own name. He caught on quickly and was excited almost beyond bearing, wanting to go immediately and show his parents his handiwork.

“I think we had better not interrupt your papa, Teddy, but perhaps we could show your mama.”

Teddy’s demonstrative face lit up—and then just as quickly sank in disappointment. “We can’t,” he said. “She’s gone away.”

“Gone away?” I asked, puzzled. “Where do you think she’s gone?”

“I don’t know,” he murmured sadly. “She goes away in the daytime, and I don’t know where.”

I recalled then that she had said I could come and see her at the breakfast hour, but nothing about other times of the day. This struck me as an intriguing mystery, but I decided that to inquire any further would be prying. “Well, she is surely back at suppertime, isn’t she?”

Teddy brightened, nodding.

I assured him it would be a great surprise to present his work to both his mama and his papa at supper, and the idea immediately caught hold. We rolled up his papers, tied them with a bit of twine, and set them aside while Teddy chuckled to himself in anticipation.

Perceiving that only a complete change of scene would attract the cub’s attention now, I proposed an exploratory foray down to the library. Teddy looked on this as a great treat, since he was not allowed in the library by himself. Our footsteps echoed as we entered the high-ceilinged room, and I imagined that we were waking the ambient spirits of the literary giants, captured here in the pages of hundreds and hundreds of glorious books. Teddy knew exactly where to find the books for cubs, and pulled out a large, well-worn volume with a rose on the cover, Beauty and the Beast. “This is my favorite!” Teddy said, his voice both contented and wistful. He clutched the book to his chest and asked, “Can we look at this one first? Could you read it to me? Please?”

I was touched by the earnestness of his request, and immediately acquiesced. We made ourselves comfortable on an overstuffed divan by the window. It was upholstered in shiny chintz with an exotic floral pattern, and though it looked as new as everything else in the house, it felt as snug and cozy as Papa’s favorite chair at home by the fireplace.

“This is Sofie,” Teddy announced, introducing me to the sofa. “We always sit on Sofie for book time,” he said, bouncing a little. “Do you like her name? I named her.”

“Yes,” I said, surveying the colorful pattern. “It’s a very fine name. Let’s try her out, shall we?” We settled into a bright ray of sunshine coming through the tall window, bounced several times, and opened the book. I could see at once why it had captured Teddy’s imagination. The illustrations lured us down, down, into the very pages, their enchanting alchemy of form, line, and color breathing life into the narrative. The Beast’s palace seemed to grow up around us, steeped in splendor and mystery. And then there was the Beast—a hulking, bearlike character with sad eyes. I was half in love with him myself, and I could feel Teddy’s empathy for the lonely creature as he asked Beauty again and again to marry him, and again and again she said no. Were they to remain separate forever because he was deemed an animal, and she was not? I thought how unfair such false distinctions were, and how easily they could result in tragedy. Teddy turned each page for me, reacting to every new development with undisguised emotion. As the poor Beast lay dying, a tear dropped on the page, though I couldn’t tell if it was his or mine.

“But she really loved him, right?” came the hopeful little voice. I turned the page to find Beauty bent weeping over the dying Beast as she discovered that she truly did love him. It was a matter of history that they lived happily ever after, though many debated whether the Beast ever turned into a human prince. Anyone could see that the real magic of the story was that she came to love him exactly as he was.

Teddy sighed with satisfaction as he closed the book. My own eyes were drooping with the fatigue of having missed a night’s sleep, but I shook myself awake. We paused awhile, sitting there in the sunbeam, easing ourselves back into the present.

“I have lots of other good books too!” Teddy informed me. He climbed down from Sofie and carefully returned the book to its spot on the shelf, then chose half a dozen others just as thick.

“These will certainly last us for a while,” I said, and we headed back to the schoolroom, each carrying a pile of books.

Halfway down the hall a door opened, and Mr. Bentley appeared. I had not seen him since he had so sarcastically stated that the termination of my employment would prevent us from becoming acquainted. I still intended to prevent us from becoming acquainted. I put my snout up and tried to project an air of frozen dignity as I began to walk past him, but he stepped out in front of me, undeterred.

“Miss Brown,” his deep voice rumbled, “I wonder if I might have a word with you?”

I looked at him as I might have looked at a particularly aggravating insect, but he stood his ground, blocking the way, and years of home training would not allow me to be so rude as to walk around him.

“I’m sure Teddy can spare you for a few minutes—can’t you, Teddy? I’ll bet he knows his own way to the schoolroom. Or perhaps you need him to show you the way?” He said this with a straight face, but I was sure I detected a wicked sparkle in his eye, and I knew immediately that he had heard tell of my getting lost on the way to supper on my first night. It was probably known to the entire household by now. I overcame my scruples and stepped to one side, intending to march past him, but he stepped aside too so that he was still blocking my way. “If I could just have a minute of your valuable time?” he asked again, smiling disarmingly.

Teddy cheerfully cried, “I can go to the schoolroom by myself, see?” and he trotted away down the hall, abandoning me.

“What is it that you want?” I snapped.

“I want to apologize, Miss Brown.”

“Oh?” I replied suspiciously.

“Yes. I hope you will accept my apology for so badly misjudging you at the waterfall. Now that it has been explained to me, I see that I entirely mistook the situation, and your role in it. Had it been explained to me then, of course, the misunderstanding could have been avoided.”

“Mr. Bentley,” I answered after a cold silence, “do you consider that to be an apology? Because I have been apologized to before, and what you have just said bears very little resemblance to any actual expression of remorse. You have, in fact, blamed me for your misjudgment. Pray don’t trouble yourself—or me—with any further declarations of spurious regret. Now, if you will excuse me …” I stepped around him once again, and continued on my way down the hall, not looking back, and he did not call after me.

Immediately, I questioned whether I had done the right thing. Tired as I was, I had spoken to him without restraint or forethought. Something about him rubbed my fur the wrong way, making me forget the formal manners that I had been taught at Miss Pinchkin’s Academy as the only acceptable way of responding to a strange male.

Back at the schoolroom, Betsy arrived with lunch. Teddy’s table manners, when not under the watchful eyes of his parents, tended to be overly enthusiastic; that is, food sometimes found its way directly to his mouth without the encumbrance of silverware. I was actually reassured to see that Teddy, who seemed such an angelic youngster, was not always on his best behavior. I saw no value in making cubs into miniature adults. Nevertheless, I prompted him, with gentle reminders and the promise of dessert, to slow down and use his silverware. Having thereby earned and consumed a dish of blueberries drizzled with honey, Teddy pushed away his plate, yawned widely, and announced that he was tired.

During Teddy’s rest period, I wanted only to rest myself, but I was certain that once I laid my head down on a pillow, I would sleep the day away. Instead, I opened all the windows in the schoolroom so the bracing breeze would stimulate and refresh me, and set myself to writing out plans for tomorrow’s lessons. I remember sitting at my desk, poring over my papers, one paw supporting my chin. I remember my pen seeming to slow down of its own accord. I remember the words on the pages before me swimming in a peculiar way, and then oblivion.

I awakened to hear someone calling my name, seemingly from a great distance away. My head was resting on my arm, and felt much too heavy to lift up, but the caller was insistent. “Miss Brown … Miss Brown … MISS BROWN!”

My head bobbed up, my eyes popping open, and I beheld Mr. Vaughn standing in the doorway with his arms folded, one shoe tapping irritably on the floor.

“Oh!” I breathed, getting to my feet. “Excuse me, Mr. Vaughn. I … I guess I must have nodded off.…”

“Yes, that much is obvious,” he observed dryly. “And, if it’s not too much to ask, where is your charge?”

I was wide awake now, and suddenly cognizant of how bad the situation looked from Mr. Vaughn’s point of view. My throat constricted. “It’s Teddy’s rest period,” I managed to say. “He’s in the nursery.”

“He WAS in the nursery, Miss Brown. Now he is outside on the drive, waiting with Nurse, who was good enough to report to me that Teddy’s governess was ASLEEP in the schoolroom. Need I communicate to you my ire that your irresponsibility has once again required my attention?”

“Oh, I’m so sorry, sir. I was just working, and I don’t recall—I don’t know how it happened. I’m afraid I was overtired, and—”

“Overtired? Is your workload so heavy that you must sleep through the school day?”

“Oh no, sir. It’s just …” I trailed off, not knowing how much to say. Should I tell him someone had been in my room and stolen my locket? When Mrs. Vaughn asked me to let her handle the matter, and not to mention it to anyone, did she mean to keep it from Mr. Vaughn as well? I responded with a half-truth. “I’ve not been sleeping well, sir. I’m afraid I’m not used to the house yet, and I was awake for the better part of the night.”

“Perhaps I have erred, choosing a governess so young in years,” he responded. “With this immaturity of yours, you have demonstrated that you are barely more than a child yourself, Miss Brown.” I cringed inwardly at the criticism, but remained silent while Mr. Vaughn paced.

Finally, looking as if he had come to some decision, he turned to me and said, “From today, Nurse will oversee you and Teddy throughout the school day, and on your afternoon nature walks. All things considered, I see this as an opportunity for you to benefit from her greater experience and common sense while you do some growing up yourself. Until further notice, I will place you under her direction. You will teach. She will be responsible for Teddy’s well-being. In that regard you will be guided by her wisdom and counsel. Do I have your agreement to this arrangement?”

“NO!” was on the tip of my tongue. My mouth had shaped the word and my vocal cords had begun the sound when I stopped myself. Papa. What of Papa and all his fond hopes and expectations? What of my own pride? And what of Teddy? If I were sent away, I would be replaced by a new governess, of course, but would she appreciate his budding spirit as I did?

My throat constricted, and I felt tears welling up. Savagely I drove them back. I must not—MUST NOT—cry. Quickly, I weighed the obvious evil of having my every move overseen by Nurse against the alternative of accepting total failure. In those moments a resolve was born: Nurse would not get rid of me so easily. Whatever was set before me to do, I would somehow do.

“For how long, sir?” I managed to ask, hoping he would set some limit on my suffering and give me something to work toward.

“We shall review the situation in one month’s time, but I make you no promises. If you demonstrate that you are willing to improve yourself, you will not find me unreasonable.”

“As you wish, sir,” I said, my heart sinking to my feet.

“Very good,” he responded. “As Seneca, the great philosopher and Stoic, once said, ‘True happiness is to understand our duties to God and Bear.’ Remember, Miss Brown, vincit qui se vincit. Proceed with your plans for the afternoon, and remember your duties, and let there be no more reason for me to be disturbed.”

I curtsied as he left the room. I quickly packed a bag with binoculars, a bird book, and a bag of seed for our outing. Throwing a shawl over my shoulders, I hurried to meet Teddy and the Horror.