The Rainbow

The state of bliss, when Miss Inger was present, was supreme

in the girl, but always eager, eager. As she went home, Ursula

dreamed of the schoolmistress, made infinite dreams of things

she could give her, of how she might make the elder woman adore

her.

Miss Inger was a Bachelor of Arts, who had studied at

Newnham. She was a clergyman's daughter, of good family. But

what Ursula adored so much was her fine, upright, athletic

bearing, and her indomitably proud nature. She was proud and

free as a man, yet exquisite as a woman.

The girl's heart burned in her breast as she set off for

school in the morning. So eager was her breast, so glad her

feet, to travel towards the beloved. Ah, Miss Inger, how

straight and fine was her back, how strong her loins, how calm

and free her limbs!

Ursula craved ceaselessly to know if Miss Inger cared for

her. As yet no definite sign had been passed between the two.

Yet surely, surely Miss Inger loved her too, was fond of her,

liked her at least more than the rest of the scholars in the

class. Yet she was never certain. It might be that Miss Inger

cared nothing for her. And yet, and yet, with blazing heart,

Ursula felt that if only she could speak to her, touch her, she

would know.

The summer term came, and with it the swimming class. Miss

Inger was to take the swimming class. Then Ursula trembled and

was dazed with passion. Her hopes were soon to be realized. She

would see Miss Inger in her bathing dress.

The day came. In the great bath the water was glimmering pale

emerald green, a lovely, glimmering mass of colour within the

whitish marble-like confines. Overhead the light fell softly and

the great green body of pure water moved under it as someone

dived from the side.

Ursula, trembling, hardly able to contain herself, pulled off

her clothes, put on her tight bathing-suit, and opened the door

of her cabin. Two girls were in the water. The mistress had not

appeared. She waited. A door opened. Miss Inger came out,

dressed in a rust-red tunic like a Greek girl's, tied round the

waist, and a red silk handkerchief round her head. How lovely

she looked! Her knees were so white and strong and proud, and

she was firm-bodied as Diana. She walked simply to the side of

the bath, and with a negligent movement, flung herself in. For a

moment Ursula watched the white, smooth, strong shoulders, and

the easy arms swimming. Then she too dived into the water.

Now, ah now, she was swimming in the same water with her dear

mistress. The girl moved her limbs voluptuously, and swam by

herself, deliciously, yet with a craving of unsatisfaction. She

wanted to touch the other, to touch her, to feel her.