lady harman was still in a state of amazement at the altered prospects of her hostels when the day arrived for the formal opening of the first of these in bloomsbury. they made a little public ceremony of it in spite of her reluctance, and mr. brumley had to witness things from out of the general crowd and realize just how completely he wasn't in it, in spite of all his efforts. mrs. pembrose was modestly conspicuous, like the unexpected in all human schemes. there were several reporters present, and horatio blenker who was going to make a loyal leader about it, to be followed by one or two special articles for the old country gazette.
horatio had procured mrs. blapton for the opening after some ineffectual angling for the princess adeline, and the thing was done at half-past three in the afternoon. in the bright early july sunshine outside the new building there was a crimson carpet down on the pavement and an awning above it, there was a great display of dog-daisies at the windows and on the steps leading up to the locked portals, an increasing number of invited people lurked shyly in the ground-floor rooms ready to come out by the back way and cluster expectantly when mrs. blapton arrived, graper the staff manager and two assistants in dazzling silk hats seemed everywhere, the rabbit-like architect had tried to look doggish in a huge black silk tie and only looked more like a rabbit than ever, and there was a steady driftage of small boys and girls, nurses with perambulators, cab touts, airing grandfathers and similar unemployed people towards the promise of the awning, the carpet and the flowers. the square building in all its bravery of doulton ware and yellow and mauve tiles and its great gilt inscription
international hostels
above the windows of the second storey seemed typical of all those modern forces that are now invading and dispelling the ancient residential peace of bloomsbury.
mrs. blapton appeared only five minutes late, escorted by bertie trevor and her husband's spare secretary. graper became so active at the sight of her that he seemed more like some beast out of the apocalypse with seven hands and ten hats than a normal human being; he marshalled the significant figures into their places, the door was unlocked without serious difficulty, and lady harman found herself in the main corridor beside mr. trevor and a little behind mrs. blapton, engaged in being shown over the new creation. sir isaac (driven by graper at his elbow) was in immediate attendance on the great political lady, and mrs. pembrose, already with an air of proprietorship, explained glibly on her other hand. close behind lady harman came lady beach-mandarin, expanding like an appreciative gas in a fine endeavour to nestle happily into the whole big place, and with her were mrs. hubert plessington and mr. pope, one of those odd people who are called publicists because one must call them something, and who take chairs and political sides and are vice-presidents of everything and organize philanthropies, write letters to the papers and cannot let the occasion pass without saying a few words and generally prevent the institutions of this country from falling out of human attention. he was a little abstracted in his manner, every now and then his lips moved as he imagined a fresh turn to some classic platitude; anyone who knew him might have foretold the speech into which he presently broke. he did this in the refectory where there was a convenient step up at the end. beginning with the customary confession of incontinence, "could not let the occasion pass," he declared that he would not detain them long, but he felt that everyone there would agree with him that they shared that day in no slight occasion, no mean enterprise, that here was one of the most promising, one of the most momentous, nay! he would go further and add with due deference to them all, one of the most pregnant of social experiments in modern social work. in the past he had himself—if he might for a moment allow a personal note to creep into his observations, he himself had not been unconnected with industrial development.—(querulous voice, "who the devil is that?" and whispered explanations on the part of horatio blenker; "pope—very good man—east purblow experiment—payment in kind instead of wages—yes.")....
lady harman ceased to listen to mr. pope's strained but not unhappy tenor. she had heard him before, and she had heard his like endlessly. he was the larger moiety of every public meeting she had ever attended. she had ceased even to marvel at the dull self-satisfaction that possessed him. to-day her capacity for marvelling was entirely taken up by the details of this extraordinary reality which had sprung from her dream of simple, kindly, beautiful homes for distressed and overworked young women; nothing in the whole of life had been so amazing since that lurid occasion when she had been the agonized vehicle for the entry of miss millicent harman upon this terrestrial scene. it was all so entirely what she could never have thought possible. a few words from other speakers followed, mrs. blapton, with the young secretary at hand to prompt, said something, and sir isaac was poked forwards to say, "thank you very much. it's all my wife's doing, really.... oh dash it! thank you very much." it had the effect of being the last vestige of some more elaborate piece of eloquence that had suddenly disintegrated in his mind.
"and now, elly," he said, as their landaulette took them home, "you're beginning to have your hostels."
"then they are my hostels?" she asked abruptly.
"didn't i say they were?" the satisfaction of his face was qualified by that fatigued irritability that nowadays always followed any exertion or excitement.
"if i want things done? if i want things altered?"
"of course you may, of course you may. what's the matter with you, elly? what's been putting ideers into your head? you got to have a directress to the thing; you must have a woman of education who knows a bit about things to look after the matrons and so on. very likely she isn't everything you want. she's the only one we could get, and i don't see——. here i go and work hard for a year and more getting these things together to please you, and then suddenly you don't like 'em. there's a lot of the spoilt child in you, elly—first and last. there they are...."
they were silent for the rest of the journey to putney, both being filled with incommunicable things.
12
and now lady harman began to share the trouble of all those who let their minds pass out of the circle of their immediate affections with any other desire save interest and pleasure. assisted in this unhappy development by the sedulous suggestions of mr. brumley she had begun to offend against the most sacred law in our sensible british code, she was beginning to take herself and her hostels seriously, and think that it mattered how she worked for them and what they became. she tried to give all the attention her children's upbringing, her husband's ailments and the general demands of her household left free, to this complex, elusive, puzzling and worrying matter. instead of thinking that these hostels were just old hostels and that you start them and put in a mrs. pembrose and feel very benevolent and happy and go away, she had come to realize partly by dint of her own conscientious thinking and partly through mr. brumley's strenuous resolve that she should not take sir isaac's gift horse without the most exhaustive examination of its quality, that this new work, like most new things in human life, was capable not only of admirable but of altogether detestable consequences, and that it rested with her far more than with any other human being to realize the former and avoid the latter. and directly one has got to this critical pose towards things, just as one ceases to be content with things anyhow and to want them precisely somehow, one begins to realize just how intractable, confused and disingenuous are human affairs. mr. brumley had made himself see and had made her see how inevitable these big wholesale ways of doing things, these organizations and close social co-operations, have become unless there is to be a social disintegration and set back, and he had also brought himself and her to realize how easily they may develop into a new servitude, how high and difficult is the way towards methods of association that will ensure freedom and permit people to live fine individual lives. every step towards organization raises a crop of vices peculiar to itself, fresh developments of the egotism and greed and vanity of those into whose hands there falls control, fresh instances of that hostile pedantry which seems so natural to officials and managers, insurgencies and obstinacies and suspicions on the part of everyone. the poor lady had supposed that when one's intentions were obviously benevolent everyone helped. she only faced the realities of this task that she had not so much set for herself as had happened to her, after dreadful phases of disillusionment and dismay.
"these hostels," said mr. brumley in his most prophetic mood, "can be made free, fine things—or no—just as all the world of men we are living in, could be made a free, fine world. and it's our place to see they are that. it's just by being generous and giving ourselves, helping without enslaving, and giving without exacting gratitude, planning and protecting with infinite care, that we bring that world nearer.... since i've known you i've come to know such things are possible...."
the bloomsbury hostel started upon its career with an embarrassing difficulty. the young women of the international stores refreshment departments for whom these institutions were primarily intended displayed what looked extremely like a concerted indisposition to come in. they had been circularized and informed that henceforth, to ensure the "good social tone" of the staff, all girls not living at home with their parents or close relations would be expected to reside in the new hostels. there followed an attractive account of the advantages of the new establishment. in drawing up this circular with the advice of mrs. pembrose, sir isaac had overlooked the fact that his management was very imperfectly informed just where the girls did live, and that after its issue it was very improbable that it would be possible to find out this very necessary fact. but the girls seemed to be unaware of this ignorance at headquarters, miss babs wheeler was beginning to feel a little bored by good behaviour and crave for those dramatic cessations at the lunch hour, those speeches, with cheers, from a table top, those interviews with reporters, those flushed and eager councils of war and all the rest of that good old crisis feeling that had previously ended so happily. mr. graper came to his proprietor headlong, mrs. pembrose was summoned and together they contemplated the lamentable possibility of this great social benefit they had done the world being discredited at the outset by a strike of the proposed beneficiaries. sir isaac fell into a state of vindictiveness and was with difficulty restrained by mr. graper from immediately concluding the negotiations that were pending with three great oxford street firms that would have given over the hostels to their employees and closed them against the international girls for ever.
even mrs. pembrose couldn't follow sir isaac in that, and remarked: "as i understand it, the whole intention was to provide proper housing for our own people first and foremost."
"and haven't we provided it, damn them?" said sir isaac in white desperation....
it was lady harman who steered the newly launched institutions through these first entanglements. it was her first important advantage in the struggle that had hitherto been going relentlessly against her. she now displayed her peculiar gift, a gift that indeed is unhappily all too rare among philanthropists, the gift of not being able to classify the people with whom she was dealing, but of continuing to regard them as a multitude of individualized souls as distinct and considerable as herself. that makes no doubt for slowness and "inefficiency" and complexity in organization, but it does make for understandings. and now, through a little talk with susan burnet about her sister's attitude upon the dispute, she was able to take the whole situation in the flank.
like many people who are not easily clear, lady harman when she was clear acted with very considerable decision, which was perhaps none the less effective because of the large softnesses of her manner.
she surprised sir isaac by coming of her own accord into his study, where with an altogether novel disfavour he sat contemplating the detailed plans for the sydenham hostel. "i think i've found out what the trouble is," she said.
"what trouble?"
"about my hostel."
"how do you know?"
"i've been finding out what the girls are saying."
"they'd say anything."
"i don't think they're clever enough for that," said lady harman after consideration. she recovered her thread. "you see, isaac, they've been frightened by the rules. i didn't know you had printed a set of rules."
"one must have rules, elly."
"in the background," she decided. "but you see these rules—were made conspicuous. they were printed in two colours on wall cards just exactly like that list of rules and scale of fines you had to withdraw——"
"i know," said sir isaac, shortly.
"it reminded the girls. and that circular that seems to threaten them if they don't give up their lodgings and come in. and the way the front is got up to look just exactly like one of the refreshment-room branches—it makes them feel it will be un-homelike, and that there will be a kind of repetition in the evening of all the discipline and regulations they have to put up with during the day."
"have to put up with!" murmured sir isaac.
"i wish that had been thought of sooner. if we had made the places look a little more ordinary and called them osborne house or something a little old-fashioned like that, something with a touch of the old queen about it and all that kind of thing."
"we can't go to the expense of taking down all those big gilt letters just to please the fancies of miss babs wheeler."
"it's too late now to do that, perhaps. but we could do something, i think, to remove the suspicions ... i want, isaac——i think——" she pulled herself together to announce her determination. "i think if i were to go to the girls and meet a delegation of them, and just talk to them plainly about what we mean by this hostel."
"you can't go making speeches."
"it would just be talking to them."
"it's such a come down," said sir isaac, after a momentary contemplation of the possibility.
for some time they talked without getting very far from these positions they had assumed. at last sir isaac shifted back upon his expert. "can't we talk about it to mrs. pembrose? she knows more about this sort of business than we do."
"i'm not going to talk to mrs. pembrose," said lady harman, after a little interval. some unusual quality in her quiet voice made sir isaac lift his eyes to her face for a moment.
so one saturday afternoon, lady harman had a meeting with a roomful of recalcitrant girls at the regent street refreshment branch, which looked very odd to her with grey cotton wrappers over everything and its blinds down, and for the first time she came face to face with the people for whom almost in spite of herself she was working. it was a meeting summoned by the international branch of the national union of waitresses and miss babs wheeler and mr. graper were so to speak the north and south poles of the little group upon the improvised platform from which lady harman was to talk to the gathering. she would have liked the support of mr. brumley, but she couldn't contrive any unostentatious way of bringing him into the business without putting it upon a footing that would have involved the appearance of sir isaac and mrs. pembrose and—everybody. and essentially it wasn't to be everybody. it was to be a little talk.
lady harman rather liked the appearance of miss babs wheeler, and met more than an answering approval in that insubordinate young woman's eye. miss wheeler was a minute swaggering person, much akimbo, with a little round blue-eyed innocent face that shone with delight at the lark of living. her three companions who were in the lobby with her to receive and usher in lady harman seemed just as young, but they were relatively unilluminated except by their manifest devotion to their leader. they displayed rather than concealed their opinion of her as a "dear" and a "fair wonder." and the meeting generally it seemed to her was a gathering of very human young women, rather restless, then agog to see her and her clothes, and then somehow allayed by her appearance and quite amiably attentive to what she had to say. a majority were young girls dressed with the cheap smartness of the suburbs, the rest were for the most part older and dingier, and here and there were dotted young ladies of a remarkable and questionable smartness. in the front row, full of shy recognitions and a little disguised by an unfamiliar hat was susan's sister alice.
as lady harman had made up her mind that she was not going to deliver a speech she felt no diffidence in speaking. she was far too intent on her message to be embarrassed by any thought of the effect she was producing. she talked as she might have talked in one of her easier moods to mr. brumley. and as she talked it happened that miss babs wheeler and quite a number of the other girls present watched her face and fell in love with her.
she began with her habitual prelude. "you see," she said, and stopped and began again. she wanted to tell them and with a clumsy simplicity she told them how these hostels had arisen out of her desire that they should have something better than the uncomfortable lodgings in which they lived. they weren't a business enterprise, but they weren't any sort of charity. "and i wanted them to be the sort of place in which you would feel quite free. i hadn't any sort of intention of having you interfered with. i hate being interfered with myself, and i understand just as well as anyone can that you don't like it either. i wanted these hostels to be the sort of place that you might perhaps after a time almost manage and run for yourselves. you might have a committee or something.... only you know it isn't always easy to do as one wants. things don't always go in this world as one wants them to go—particularly if one isn't clever." she lost herself for a moment at that point, and then went on to say she didn't like the new rules. they had been drawn up in a hurry and she had only read them after they were printed. all sorts of things in them——
she seemed to be losing her theme again, and mr. graper handed her the offending card, a big varnished wall placard, with eyelets and tape complete. she glanced at it. for example, she said, it wasn't her idea to have fines. (great and long continued applause.) there was something she had always disliked about fines. (renewed applause.) but these rules could easily be torn up. and as she said this and as the meeting broke into acquiescence again it occurred to her that there was the card of rules in her hands, and nothing could be simpler than to tear it up there and then. it resisted her for a moment, she compressed her lips and then she had it in halves. this tearing was so satisfactory to her that she tore it again and then again. as she tore it, she had a pleasant irrational feeling that she was tearing mrs. pembrose. mr. graper's face betrayed his shocked feelings, and the meeting which had become charged with a strong desire to show how entirely it approved of her, made a crowning attempt at applause. they hammered umbrellas on the floor, they clapped hands, they rattled chairs and gave a shrill cheer. a chair was broken.
"i wish," said lady harman when that storm had abated, "you'd come and look at the hostel. couldn't you come next saturday afternoon? we could have a stand-up tea and you could see the place and then afterwards your committee and i—and my husband—could make out a real set of rules...."
she went on for some little time longer, she appealed to them with all the strength of her honest purpose to help her to make this possible good thing a real good thing, not to suspect, not to be hard on her—"and my husband"—not to make a difficult thing impossible, it was so easy to do that, and when she finished she was in the happiest possession of her meeting. they came thronging round her with flushed faces and bright eyes, they wanted to come near her, wanted to touch her, wanted to assure her that for her they were quite prepared to live in any kind of place. for her. "you come and talk to us, lady harman," said one; "we'll show you."
"nobody hasn't told us, lady harman, how these hostels were yours."
"you come and talk to us again, lady harman." ...
they didn't wait for the following saturday. on monday morning mrs. pembrose received thirty-seven applications to take up rooms.
