Read Online The Looking Glass House by Vanessa Tait - Free Book Online

entailed. A night of drinking and carousing would not be good, but I expect a night of general enjoyment, such as Lord Newry’s ball, might lift one’s spirits significantly. I know you enjoy many such nights, and in the Deanery too.’
    ‘But your ball, as you know, would entail breaking college rules.’
    ‘I don’t see what you have against young people enjoying themselves. I dare say even you must have been young once!’ said Lord Newry.
    Mr Dodgson looked as if someone had stuck a broom handle up the back of his jacket to keep him still. Discomfort radiated from him.
    Mary felt a surprising stab of pity.
    ‘I have nothing against enjoyment, as you know, Mrs Liddell. But the rules of college curfew have been in place for hundreds of years, and if you, if you, if you were to break them once .  .  . then, then, then they could be broken again. And again, and they would become meaningless.’
    Rules, yes, that was what Mary was always trying to impart to the children. So she was surprised at what Mrs Liddell said next: ‘And if they are broken for one night? I suppose civiliza­tion would end!’
    Mary opened her mouth in surprise; out of habit, she nearly spoke, but she was a governess now. She closed her lips again and put her hand up to scratch her chin, to mask her expression.
    ‘But don’t let us keep you from your work!’ Mrs Liddell said, turning back to Lord Newry. ‘I should hate to be the cause of the failure of an artistic endeavour.’
    Mr Dodgson’s smile, as he was dismissed, was full of difficulty.
    As dusk was falling, Mary went out for a walk in the garden. Now that it was almost summer, she preferred to be out of doors than in her little room with its high window and pipe running through it that ticked and stamped into the early hours. She was surprised to see Mr Dodgson still there. ‘Have you had any success?’ she asked him.
    ‘What?’
    ‘Your photography.’
    ‘Ah – some. Trees are better at standing still than children.’ He stood up from the wheelbarrow that he was filling with his photographic apparatus. ‘Has Lord Newry gone?’
    He had, hours ago.
    ‘Is he here often?’
    ‘I have not met him before,’ said Mary. ‘But I believe him to be a favourite of Mrs Liddell’s.’
    ‘Ah, Mrs Liddell, the kingfisher. Bold and bright .  .  . and a fisher of kings.’ Mr Dodgson threw his funnels and trays into the wheelbarrow noisily.
    ‘Fisher of kings?’ Mary echoed.
    Mrs Liddell was ambitious, Mary knew that. She had once overheard an argument between Mrs Liddell and the Dean; he had been offered another position it seemed, that of the Queen’s chaplain. Mrs Liddell had been so ecstatic that Mary had heard her voice from the other side of the house. The Dean had not been so happy. ‘We shall have even more cares, troubles, busi­ness and all sorts of things to interfere with our arrangements!’ Then Mrs Liddell, in pleading tones, pointing out the merits. Then the Dean, sterner: ‘Be not ambitious, Lorina. Desire not a higher place for me. If ever I was serious, I am here – on this point.’ Then a door being slammed, and sobs.
    The air was colder now and midges jumped about in it.
    ‘Do the children like him?’ asked Mr Dodgson.
    ‘Who?’
    ‘Lord Newry.’
    ‘I don’t know. Alice prattles on to anybody, as you know.’
    ‘Yes, and is the more charming for it. She still retains her innocence! Dear Alice. My sisters were the same as children. I miss them.’
    ‘Do you have many?’
    ‘Seven. I am used to entertaining them,’ said Mr Dodgson, standing up and gazing past Mary at the elm tree.
    ‘Goodness, your mother must be busy.’
    ‘My mother, alas, is dead,’ said Mr Dodgson.
    ‘Oh dear. I am sorry to hear it. The loss must be hard to bear.’ Mary stood awkwardly, half turned towards him, half turned away.
    ‘I was never happier than when I was a boy and my dear mother was alive!’ He still looked up and Mary thought she saw tears in his