The two friends didn’t say anything more about it, and Maud was relieved when Jack went off to school soon after she arrived.
Between the awkward reunions and the many whispers when she entered the church, Maud found her first Sunday trying. She hadn’t expected much, but she had thought that people might have been a little impressed by her publications. Instead, they asked if there had been any beaux, forcing Maud to lie and say that there wasn’t anyone. After the service, she overheard Mrs. Simpson mutter under her breath to her husband that Maud was definitely “giving herself airs,” being away and wearing her hair up as they did in ’town.
She tried not to let it bother her very much, but there was a part of her that now understood how truly small Cavendish was. Ancient history was like yesterday, and memories were longer than most Sunday sermons, and no matter what she did, she would always be the overly emotional daughter of Clara and Hugh Montgomery.
Still, it didn’t mean she couldn’t try to be something different than what they expected.
After the service, when Reverend Archibald was available, she asked about the possibility of teaching Sunday School. It turned out that one of the teachers had left for Charlottetown and he was in need of one. He asked Maud if she could start the following weekend.
Then, Maud walked the familiar path to the cemetery, her thumb rubbing against her finger. As she did, she wondered if Will was doing the same thing, thinking of her.
She stopped in front of Mother’s grave. Maud felt as though she understood her mother more; she was a young woman who had adored poetry and married for love. The question that still troubled Maud was, why the rush? Her parents hadn’t been married very long before she came along. Was that why? It was too scandalous to consider, and she put it out of her mind by closing her eyes and concentrating on the feeling of the wind against her skin.
Maud opened her eyes and the ache of another unanswered question settled in her soul. What was she going to do? She felt rudderless, adrift. She needed a plan. Her grandparents had started to give her more responsibility at the post office, but she needed to get back to school—she just wasn’t sure how to bring it up.
“Is that you, Maud?” A familiar voice interrupted her thoughts.
Miss Gordon! Here was a person who could help her figure out what that plan might be.
“Miss Gordon, how are you?” Maud exclaimed, and Miss Gordon enveloped her in a hug. She looked as stylish as ever in a brown Bedford cord lady’s jacket. Maud had seen something similar in the copy of Harper’s Bazaar she had bought in Toronto.
“You’ve really grown up, Maud,” Miss Gordon said when they broke apart. “I almost didn’t recognize you.”
“I suspect it is the hair,” Maud said.
“Yes, that must be it.” She smiled. “I was just on my way to the Lairds’ for Sunday dinner, but I knew when I saw you, I had to stop.” She frowned. “You haven’t been to see me.”
“I’ve been settling in.”
“I’m sure,” Miss Gordon said. “But I had hoped you would come back to school.”
“It’s too late.”
“It’s never too late, Maud,” she said.
“I don’t know about that,” Maud said.
“Your letters indicated that your experience in Prince Albert wasn’t”—she clasped her hands—“quite what you hoped it would be.”
Maud had finally told Miss Gordon the truth about school and Mr. Mustard in a letter last spring. “It was definitely disappointing.”
“I was sorry to hear it. I had the impression the authorities out West were getting the best-educated teachers from Ontario.”
“Perhaps, but a good education doesn’t always mean a good teacher.” Maud surprised herself with this answer. She opened her mouth as if to apologize, but Miss Gordon stopped her.
“No, you’re quite right, Maud. Not everyone is meant to teach.”
Maud watched the Gulf below. “I-I’m not sure what my grandfather will say about my returning, but I know I need to finish my year and study to prepare for the entrance exams if I’m going to get into college.”
“You know, I was so impressed to see those essays and your poem in the paper,” Miss Gordon said. “Wouldn’t your grandfather have a similar attitude?”
“Perhaps, but he’s never said.” That would mean praising her.
“That doesn’t mean he’s not proud of you.”
“Perhaps.”
“Try again. Then come and see me and we’ll settle on a course of study so you can catch up and be ready for the Prince of Wales College examination in Charlottetown next summer. It isn’t Acadia, I know, but it is a good school and not too far from Cavendish. The cost is seven dollars a term, plus room and board. And they are accepting women.”
“Prince of Wales College?”
“Yes? Isn’t that what you want?”
Maud took a deep breath. “Yes. It’s exactly what I want.”
CHAPTER FIVE
Maud didn’t think Grandfather was any closer to changing his opinion about the appropriateness of higher education for girls. Grandpa Montgomery might have even paid for college if she had been a boy! If she was going to get to college, she was going to have to convince Grandfather she was worthy of it first.
Sunday was not a day to ask Grandfather anything, so Maud waited until dinner the following evening to discuss it with him. She was as nervous as the time when she had asked to attend Reverend Mr. Carruthers’s lecture two years ago. How important it had seemed at the time.
When Grandfather had finished his first helping of scallops and potatoes and was waiting for Grandma to serve him some more, Maud put her fork down and, in her most professional voice, said, “Grandfather, there is something I wish to speak with you about.”
Grandma gazed at Maud over the top of her spectacles as if to say, “What is it now?” Then she scooped a serving of potatoes onto her husband’s plate.
“What is it?” he said.
“Well…it’s…” Why was it, when he looked at her like she was sent from faerieland, all the words she had ever known fell away?
“You know what I say, ‘Speak your mind because no one else is going to speak it for you.’?” Grandfather scooped some potatoes into his mouth.
“I saw Miss Gordon yesterday,” she said.
“Ah, Miss Gordon. She is doing much better than that last one. Certainly able to handle the classroom,” he said.
“I think so.” He’d complimented Miss Gordon, which was promising. “She said I could return to school this year and prepare for the entrance exams to Prince of Wales College.”
Grandfather stopped chewing for a moment, and then swallowed. “It isn’t too late to sit the exams?”
“No. Not too late. If I study this year, I can take the exams in June.”
He put his fork down, wiped his chin with his napkin, and scrunched it in his left hand on the table. “Maud, you know we’ve always thought it was important that you received a good education. You even had an extra year of high school.”