Read Online The Sweet Far Thing by Libba Bray - Free Book Online Page A

Divine
    Shine forth upon our clouded hills?
    And was Jerusalem builded here
    Among these dark satanic mills?
    Bring me my bow of burning gold!
    Bring me my arrows of desire!
    Several of the younger girls titter at desire and LeFarge must wait for silence before continuing.
    Bring me my spear! O clouds unfold!
    Bring me my chariot of fire!
    I will not cease from mental fight
    Nor shall my sword sleep in my hand
    Till we have built Jerusalem
    In England’s green and pleasant land.
    LeFarge leaves the pulpit and Mrs. Nightwing takes her place there. “Thank you, Miss LeFarge, for that. Most stirring. The poem reminds us that greatness lies even in the smallest of moments, in the humblest of hearts, and we shall, each of us, be called to greatness. Whether we shall rise to meet it or let Generated by ABC Amber LIT Conv erter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
    it slip away is the challenge put before us all.”
    Her eyes sweep the room and seem to rest on every girl, bequeathing each of us with an unseen mantle.
    My earlier urge to giggle vanishes, and a heaviness settles over me like a late spring snow.
    “April is nearly upon us; May beckons. And for some of our girls, the time will soon come to leave us.”
    Beside me, Ann rubs absently at the scars on her arm. I put my hands in hers.
    “Every year, we host a small tea to honor our graduates. This year, we shall not.”
    A low rumble of shock reverberates in the small chapel. The girls lose their grins. Elizabeth looks as if she might cry. “Oh. Oh, no.”
    “She wouldn’t dare,” Cecily whispers, horrified. “Would she?”
    “Quiet, quiet, please.” Mrs. Nightwing’s words echo. “It is my great pleasure to tell you that this year, we shall not host a tea but rather a ball.”
    A surge of excitement ripples through the girls from pew to pew. A ball!
    “It is to be a masked ball, a jolly spectacle of costume, held on May Day for patrons and parents. No doubt you have already begun to dream of fairy wings and noble Indian princesses. Perhaps there will be among you a pirate or Nefertiti or a stately Queen Mab.”
    Another ripple of girlish exhilaration disturbs the calm of the chapel.
    “I shall make a splendid Queen Mab,” Felicity says. “Don’t you think?”
    Cecily’s outraged. “Why, Felicity Worthington, that was to be my costume.”
    “Not anymore it isn’t. I thought of it first.”
    “How could you have thought of it first when I did!”
    “Ladies! Grace, strength, beauty!” Mrs. Nightwing shouts over the din, reminding us of the Spence motto as well as our manners. We settle like a flower garden after a sudden tempest of wind. “I’ve another surprise. As you know, our Miss McCleethy has been away these months attending to urgent personal matters. I am pleased to say that her obligations elsewhere are at an end, and she will be returning to us soon. I’ve a letter, which I shall read aloud.” She clears her throat. “‘Dear Ladies of Spence, I do hope this letter finds you well. Spring should be shining on our dear school. It must be a lovely sight, and I hope to enjoy it soon. Mrs. Nightwing has asked if I might permanently accept the position vacated by Miss Moore, and I am happy to say that I have accepted. It was not my intention to stay on at Spence, but it seems I am needed there, and I go wherever duty calls. It is my fervent hope to see you all by month’s end. Until then, I wish you well with your studies and the best of luck with the porridge.’”
    This is followed by laughter, as Spence’s porridge is notoriously awful.
    “‘And for those leaving us soon to take their places in the world, I would ask them to remember their obligations as well as their dreams. Fondly, Your Miss McCleethy.’”
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    The gust has blown through: The girls fall into merry chatter again. Though I am excited too, I am not entirely at ease. I can’t help feeling