Call of the Kiwi by Sarah Lark Read Free Book Online Page A

severely. “We expect our pupils only to speak when spoken to,” she said. “However, I’m quite pleased you feel yourself drawn to this instrument. You’re Lilian Lambert, correct? A niece of Mrs. Martyn’s?”
    Kura-maro-tini had clearly made an impression.
    “Mrs. Martyn visited our institution personally to register her daughter,” she explained to Sarah and Christopher, “providing us with the pleasure of a little private concert when she did. The girls were all deeply impressed and look forward to meeting you, Gloria.”
    Gloria bit her lip.
    “And you too, of course, Lilian. I’m sure our music teacher, Miss Taylor-Bennington, will appreciate your piano playing. Would you like some tea, Miss Bleachum? Reverend? The girls can make their way downstairs now. Miss Barnum will show them to their rooms.”
    “Oh right, I’ll be living in the west wing,” Lilian said. She had already forgotten that she was not to speak before being spoken to. “I’ll be ‘Lily of the West’!”
    “Lilian!” Sarah admonished her, horrified, while the pastor burst out laughing. Miss Arrowstone frowned. Fortunately she did not seem to know the story of “Lily of the West,” in which an unfaithful barmaid leads her sweetheart into ruin.
    Gloria gave her teacher a desperate look.
    “Go on, Glory,” Sarah told her gently. “Miss Barnum will introduce you to your housemother. No doubt you’ll feel right at home.”
    “Say good-bye to your teacher now,” Miss Arrowstone added. “You’ll see her again at Sunday service.”
    Gloria tried to maintain her composure, but her eyes overflowed with tears as she curtsied before Miss Bleachum. Sarah could not help herself. She pulled the girl to her and kissed her good-bye.
    Miss Arrowstone observed this with pronounced disapproval.
    “The girl is too attached to you,” she noted once the girls had left the room. “It will do her good to spend some time away from you and develop friendships with others. And besides”—again this conspiratorial smile—“you will have your own children soon enough.”
    Sarah blushed deeply.
    “In truth, I did not intend to give up my profession right away. On the contrary, I would love to remain active as a teacher for a few years yet and wanted, in this regard, to as k . . . ”
    “What do you have in mind, my dear?” Miss Arrowstone asked, sugar sweet, pouring Sarah some tea. “The reverend needs you at his side. I don’t know how things are done on the other side of the globe, but in our schools, teachers are generally unmarried.”
    Sarah felt the trap spring under her feet. Miss Arrowstone would not hire her. Her only remaining option was to obtain a position as a tutor in the area. But from what she’d seen thus far, no one seemed particularly well-off. And the town matrons would probably not want to stand in the way of “the reverend’s happiness.” She would have to have a serious word with Christopher. Though it spoke well of him that he was so determined to marry Sarah, he had to give Sarah at least a few weeks to make up her mind. She cast a shy sidelong glance at the man next to her. Would a few weeks really suffice to get to know him?

    Miss Coleridge, the east wing’s gaunt and strict-looking housemother, was older than Miss Barnum, and appeared to be her exact opposite.
    “You’re Gloria Martyn? Why, you don’t take after your mother at all.” Miss Coleridge sounded markedly disapproving. Gloria was coming to expect this response.
    Miss Coleridge cast a further, rather unmerciful look at her before looking at her notes.
    “Martyn, Martyn, ah yes, here we are. The Titian Room. Gabrielle and Fiona are already there.”
    Gloria followed her housemother down the halls of the east wing, which were rather gloomy in the afternoon light. Though she tried to convince herself that there must be more than one Gabrielle in the school, she knew that was not likely. And, indeed, the girl who had been at the reception desk