Miss Spankie's Motherhood .sx LYDIA SPANKIE was the daughter of a Cambridge Professor whose house was upon the banks of the River Cam .sx Colleges towered all round the garden , a delicate mass of stone lace-work against the sky .sx Willows dipped softly into the water .sx Buttercups and daisies starred the grass beneath the trees .sx The stone side of Professor Spankie's house dripped purple wistaria in the early summer , and a feathery mass of green the rest of the year .sx It was a peaceful and a dignified life .sx It was very respectable .sx Sometimes the still air thrilled for an instant to the tinkling of a bell , or the sound of boys' voices , pure and sweet , in some distant chapel .sx Or the swift laughter of young men , passing by , or a babble of conversation that would die away , leaving the garden as still , as dignified as before , and Lydia Spankie sitting in it , alone .sx She was not young .sx She did not think often about her age or keep her birthdays any longer .sx They annoyed her .sx Time passing and passing and nothing at all to show for it .sx Once she had been pretty in a gentle , refined fashion , but now she was too set , too tidy , too straight-up-and-down for standards of the day .sx Sometimes she tried timidly to bring herself up to date .sx Once she changed the fashion of her hairdressing .sx But the Professor's comments on the event and the result were such as to drive her back in a hurry to the straight-licked-back effect a trusty bun .sx Professor Spankie always treated his daughter as a joke , one that amused and pained him .sx When she had been born , he almost died laughing , so far had such an event been removed from his expectation or scheme of things .sx He was tickled to death .sx That had remained his attitude towards her ever since .sx He never talked to her , only at her .sx He had a barbed sense of humour , and there was no portion of Lydia that had not been well stung by it before she came of age .sx He was a glittering , acid little man , given to jokes so scholarly that no one but himself .sx understood them .sx Lydia grew cold when she heard his footsteps in the passage , but she continued bravely to live with him ever since her mother died as she did early killed by his sense of fun .sx After that he had no one .sx to wreak it on but Lydia , .sx and he gave it full play .sx If she smiled he read into it .sx more than a smile .sx He had a way of making her most .sx innocent friendlinesses savour of .sx abandon .sx Did she refrain from smiling , he said , .sx " Must I live for ever .sx with a woman whose face is as expressive as a muffin in the pre-toasted condition ?sx " .sx So Lydia grew to womanhood , and loved , and lost , and began to wither , and knew that it would soon be too late .sx Of her one sad little love story she seldom thought , nowadays , but the high-bred features of Dr. Burton , and his thin nose , were always somewhere about her memory like a secret altar where she always kept fresh flowers and candles burning , although she seldom worshipped there any more .sx She had loved him so tenderly , so romantically .sx He had written her notes and sent her books .sx She fulfilled his ideal of everything the woman he wanted was to be .sx But alas , the Professor got wind of it .sx He intercepted one long look at Chapel one evening , and he soon frightened the doctor away .sx Beneath that glittering eye , those academic sayings , Dr. Burton wilted .sx He could never cap the Professor's quotations indeed , at times he could hardly even understand them .sx This is more than a scholar can bear , so gently he faded away .sx The deck chair beside Lydia's upon the lawn remained empty .sx She was alone in the garden once more , and likely to remain so for ever .sx Often she dreamed dreams in which he was different .sx In which he cared nothing for the Professor's sneers , but carried her off under his nose .sx Alas , in Cambridge men seemed too polite for such doings .sx It is only in story books that the heroes are fearless and strong .sx Lydia was not even sad any more .sx She was simply resigned and polite and too straight-up-and-down .sx And then , one miraculous morning in summer , came Butchard the parlour maid , grim as a grenadier and very upright .sx " The Professor wants you , Miss .sx " Lydia rose with a sinking heart .sx What could be the matter now .sx His dinner had disagreed with him , or his bed-sheets were damp .sx Butchard said , " He doesn't seem well .sx " That Lydia ignored as nonsense .sx The Professor was always well .sx " Illish , I would say , " continued Butchard .sx For all the feeling in her voice she might have been discussing the condition of the Sunday joint .sx Still , something about her made Lydia hurry , and there lay her father upon his bed , fully dressed , but unable to move .sx One side of his face twisted up so that he now wore perpetually the sardonic grin he had before only assumed sometimes .sx " Would you like the doctor ?sx " asked Butchard , impartially .sx She also had suffered under his gibes for many years , and it was all the same to her how he was or felt .sx The doctor came round about noon .sx Lydia's heart was now all softness towards her father .sx As she helped undress him , and bathed his brow , she had made up the prettiest ending to their story .sx At last he would come to realise her real worth , and the bonds of affection would be tightened between them .sx She would be so good to him that he would come at last to love her .sx When he opened his eyes they had all the old glitter .sx He motioned to Lydia to bend over him .sx His voice was low and husky , and he spoke with difficulty .sx " My Blossom , " he said , " favoured art thou , after all , amongst women .sx " And Lydia said , " Why ?sx " .sx " Because the Lord has delivered me into your hands .sx Day by day I shall lie here , helpless , for whatever the doctors may say , I have had a stroke of a virulent character .sx I shall lie helpless all through the years , and you will be able to get your own back .sx " His chuckle was horrible .sx " Father !sx " she sobbed , breaking down at that .sx " How can you say such things .sx You know I never would .sx You know that I will nurse you and look after you .sx Is it likely I'd ever dream of .sx .. " .sx " Retaliation ?sx No , my love .sx You have not heard of such a thing .sx Certainly .sx .. you could not spell it .sx You have not the spirit to retaliate .sx The mentality of a lemon jelly .sx Ready to melt for anyone , my love .sx Waiting to melt this moment upon me .sx I know you .sx Here I shall lie , watching .sx you busy with your little scuttle .sx Collecting the coals of fire for my unrepentant head .sx .. my Lydia .sx " She put her hands over her ears to shut out the rest of it .sx He had not changed .sx He was the same as ever .sx He gave her six weeks of purgatory , but she wept just the same when he died unexpectedly one night , out , for the first time in his life , in his plans for himself .sx Lydia found herself rich .sx Worth exactly one thousand a year , free of income tax , to spend as she wished .sx She was so cowed that for a while she could think of nothing more amusing to do than sit in a boarding-house in London , afraid to get into conversation with anyone because she was sure they would snub her .sx She might never have done anything else , had a chance newspaper not fallen into her hands .sx The chanciest of all newspapers , just wrapped round a pair of shoes back from the mending .sx WINTER IN INDIA .sx SEE THE DESERT AND SUNSETS AND TEMPLES OF THE MAGIC EAST FOR YOURSELF .sx Lydia sat transfixed .sx She had .sx never thought of that .sx It appeared altogether too daring .sx Yet it .sx seemed people really did such .sx things .sx Only she was sure , colouring .sx hotly , they could not be people like .sx herself .sx She called next day at the .sx Tourist Office in the City , to find .sx such trips were planned entirely .sx for people like herself .sx She met .sx three of them there and then .sx They each had a complaint that .sx needed taking out of England for .sx the winter .sx In charge of Mr. W. P. .sx Tripp the conducted tour left Victoria on a cold November morning , .sx and with them went Miss Spankie .sx in a toque she considered daring .sx And so it was , though not in the way she imagined .sx It was on the steamer going to Bombay that Lydia realised that adventure still came to those of middle age .sx She looked round her and was amazed .sx Amongst those who go down to the sea in ships , it is apparently never too late for romance .sx Miss Spankie began to take heart .sx And now the conducted tour , which once had appeared so dashing , became a positive drag upon her .sx Why had she tied herself up with such a dull collection of people ?sx She realised , too late , that it would have been quite all right for her to have come alone .sx She hated being organised , and hustled in and out of motor-cars .sx She wanted to go off alone and explore the dim recesses of the smelly bazaars and the outlying parts of the cities they visited .sx But oh , the caution of that conducted tour .sx They would not risk the heat of the day , or the cold of the evening .sx They appeared to have come abroad solely to .sx avoid cholera , typhoid and plague .sx They talked of nothing else .sx unless it was snake bite .sx When .sx they got to Khotpur , one of the .sx last inhabitable outposts of the .sx Empire , it looked as if the part .sx Miss Spankie had longed for most .sx of all was to be cut out entirely , .sx just because Mr. W. P. Tripp killed a snake .sx He told them all about death from snake bite and its tortures , and how nothing was any good .sx " This is the worst season for snakes up here , " said Mr. W. P. Tripp , looking suggestively beneath the cushion upon his chair before he sat down .sx Shortly after that the conducted tour decided they would miss out that district altogether and get back to Bombay .sx Bombay they said , was safer .sx There were European doctors .sx It only remained for the whole party to be agreed on the subject , said Mr. W. P. Tripp .sx They all were with the exception of Lydia Spankie .sx Really , no one would have suspected her of such obstinacy .sx She stood there , very still in her striped silk sports dress that sat so oddly on her too straight-up-and-down figure .sx " I wish to see the desert , " she said .sx " It is what I mainly came for .sx " Mr. W. P. Tripp had usually been able to settle her kind .sx He trotted out a few more of the dangers , but they left Miss Spankie cold .sx " I shall remain here alone , " she said rather breathlessly .sx " I am quite willing to cancel the remainder of my journey with you .sx In fact , it suits me better .sx " Mr. Tripp had it in writing from her .sx " It is not at all safe , " he warned her .sx How Lydia longed to tell him her soul was sick of safety , and that she wanted to live before it was too late .sx But she merely coughed politely , and put up her holland parasol lined with green , and stood upon the veranda of the Rest House , to wave good-bye to them , with enormous relief in her heart .sx After that she bought a very old-fashioned bicycle in the bazaar and saw Khotpur for herself .sx She explored Khotpur to its innermost recesses , the foulest portions of the river bank , the purlieus of the bazaar .sx Nobody ever molested her .sx Miss Spankie came to realise there was little difference between Khotpur and Cambridge , save in the matter of cleanliness .sx And sand .sx All .sx around the desert lay , like a solidified ocean .sx Breakers of sand surged up round rocky expanses .sx It fascinated Miss Spankie .sx