Download the full version of the textbook now at textbookfull.

com

Indigenizing Education Discussions and Case

Studies from Australia and Canada Alison
Sammel

https://textbookfull.com/product/indigenizing-
education-discussions-and-case-studies-from-
australia-and-canada-alison-sammel/

Explore and download more textbook at https://textbookfull.com

 Recommended digital products (PDF, EPUB, MOBI) that
you can download immediately if you are interested.

Chinese migrant entrepreneurship in Australia from the

1990s case studies of success in Sino Australian relations
1st Edition Gao
https://textbookfull.com/product/chinese-migrant-entrepreneurship-in-
australia-from-the-1990s-case-studies-of-success-in-sino-australian-
relations-1st-edition-gao/
textbookfull.com

Case Studies on Diversity and Social Justice Education

Paul C. Gorski

https://textbookfull.com/product/case-studies-on-diversity-and-social-
justice-education-paul-c-gorski/

textbookfull.com

Case Studies on Diversity and Social Justice Education 3rd

Edition Paul C. Gorski

https://textbookfull.com/product/case-studies-on-diversity-and-social-
justice-education-3rd-edition-paul-c-gorski/

textbookfull.com

Migrant Health A Primary Care Perspective 1st Edition

Bernadette N Kumar (Editor)

https://textbookfull.com/product/migrant-health-a-primary-care-
perspective-1st-edition-bernadette-n-kumar-editor/

textbookfull.com
Leadership in Higher Education Practices That Make a
Difference James M Kouzes

https://textbookfull.com/product/leadership-in-higher-education-
practices-that-make-a-difference-james-m-kouzes/

textbookfull.com

Soil and Environmental Chemistry 1st Edition William F.

Bleam

https://textbookfull.com/product/soil-and-environmental-chemistry-1st-
edition-william-f-bleam/

textbookfull.com

Oceans ventured winning the Cold War at sea First Edition

North Atlantic Treaty Organization

https://textbookfull.com/product/oceans-ventured-winning-the-cold-war-
at-sea-first-edition-north-atlantic-treaty-organization/

textbookfull.com

Foundations of Social Policy: Social Justice in Human

Perspective Amanda S. Barusch

https://textbookfull.com/product/foundations-of-social-policy-social-
justice-in-human-perspective-amanda-s-barusch/

textbookfull.com

Quantitative Aptitude for the CAT 4th Edition Nishit K.

Sinha

https://textbookfull.com/product/quantitative-aptitude-for-the-
cat-4th-edition-nishit-k-sinha/

textbookfull.com
Marine Organisms as Model Systems in Biology and Medicine
Malgorzata Kloc

https://textbookfull.com/product/marine-organisms-as-model-systems-in-
biology-and-medicine-malgorzata-kloc/

textbookfull.com
Alison Sammel
Susan Whatman
Levon Blue Editors

Indigenizing
Education
Discussions and Case Studies
from Australia and Canada
Indigenizing Education
Alison Sammel Susan Whatman
• •

Levon Blue
Editors

Indigenizing Education
Discussions and Case Studies from Australia
and Canada

123
Editors
Alison Sammel Susan Whatman
Griffith University Griffith University
Gold Coast, QLD, Australia Gold Coast, QLD, Australia

Levon Blue
Queensland University of Technology
(QUT)
Brisbane, QLD, Australia

ISBN 978-981-15-4834-5 ISBN 978-981-15-4835-2 (eBook)

https://doi.org/10.1007/978-981-15-4835-2
© Springer Nature Singapore Pte Ltd. 2020
This work is subject to copyright. All rights are reserved by the Publisher, whether the whole or part
of the material is concerned, specifically the rights of translation, reprinting, reuse of illustrations,
recitation, broadcasting, reproduction on microfilms or in any other physical way, and transmission
or information storage and retrieval, electronic adaptation, computer software, or by similar or dissimilar
methodology now known or hereafter developed.
The use of general descriptive names, registered names, trademarks, service marks, etc. in this
publication does not imply, even in the absence of a specific statement, that such names are exempt from
the relevant protective laws and regulations and therefore free for general use.
The publisher, the authors and the editors are safe to assume that the advice and information in this
book are believed to be true and accurate at the date of publication. Neither the publisher nor the
authors or the editors give a warranty, expressed or implied, with respect to the material contained
herein or for any errors or omissions that may have been made. The publisher remains neutral with regard
to jurisdictional claims in published maps and institutional affiliations.

This Springer imprint is published by the registered company Springer Nature Singapore Pte Ltd.
The registered company address is: 152 Beach Road, #21-01/04 Gateway East, Singapore 189721,
Singapore
Editing a collection of chapters from across
the globe is a time-consuming and time-zone
challenging project. We would like to thank
the support of family, community, and
colleagues for supporting us as Editors
through this almost two-year journey. We
also would like to thank Nick Melchoir and
the team of Indigenous academic reviewers
for their invaluable insights into ways to
strengthen this collaborative contribution to
our field. Alison also would like to
particularly acknowledge and dedicate this
book to Elizabeth Cooper, John Gillhespy,
Carolyn Rosenberg, and Poppi Sammel.
Foreword

Approaching the Indigenizing education through the collaborative efforts of

Australian and Canadian authors is both apt and imperative. During the 1970s and
1980s, I served as a member of Australia’s National Aboriginal Education
Committee (NAEC). We reviewed the Canadian Indigenous student support ini-
tiatives and Indigenous studies in consultation with First Nations educators,
bringing many ideas back to enhance the Australian higher education system. We
spent a lot of time discussing ways to support the introduction of Indigenous studies
by First Peoples in university curricula and what was essential to support
Indigenous students in their studies.
As a group, the National Aboriginal Education Committee members studied the
works of Paulo Freire, Brazilian educator and philosopher, as we tried to improve
our own situation. Freire argued that Indigenous peoples were marginalized from
the dominant society in which they lived, were submerged in a culture of silence
of the dispossessed, and that a dependent society is a silent society with no
authentic voice. Only when the oppressed break out of the culture of silence and
win the right to speak do they refuse to be dominated or oppressed and become
persons in their own right. Freire’s (2000) work was very instrumental for
Aborigines and Torres Strait Islanders who also had no say in government policies
of protection, segregation, and assimilation.
A central message of this book is that Indigenizing education means incorpo-
rating knowledges and perspectives that honour and respect First Peoples into
teaching and learning activities wherever these activities occur. I really endorse
that. In my many years as an educator, I found that teaching and learning have not
honoured or offered respect to First Peoples. Colonialism in education was rife. To
be considered ‘educated’, you had to be educated ‘the White way’. Nobody took
any notice of Indigenous ways of learning. In the early days, my goodness, we had
to struggle, had to argue with politicians and university councils: gosh, we were
brave!
The NAEC was mainly concerned with education per se. In those days, most
Indigenous children were not finishing school or starting high school. Their parents
could not help them with lessons because they had little or no schooling themselves.

vii
viii Foreword

There was no communication between families and schools. Only a few Aboriginal
and Torres Strait Islander students went to ‘White’ schools: they attended
Aboriginal schools instead. I was lucky to be educated at a ‘White’ school because
the little country town I lived in did not have an Aboriginal school. My mother did
everyone’s washing and ironing. If they had not let me attend school, my mother
would not have done their washing and ironing, or scrubbed and polished their
floors on her hands and knees (c.f. Duncan, 2014a, b). There were no washing
machines, vacuum cleaners, or labour-saving devices then.
The support structures in today’s schools exist because we lobbied on behalf of
Indigenous students. We got Aboriginal teacher aides into schools. Now schools
have teacher aides for everyone. We set up women’s refugees and study allow-
ances, and they copied us. I remember being abused by White parents about
Abstudy. They complained: ‘our children are just as badly off, our country kids
don’t get anything’. And I said, ‘well, why don’t you do as we did? You’ve got to
lobby!’ You have to lobby the government, it was not handed to us on a plate.
Austudy is now available for all low-income students.
This book offers important insights into two contemporary problems, firstly
‘me-ism’—our individualistic society—and, secondly, climate change. In
Indigenous society, you must listen. If you do not listen, you will be in big trouble;
you will not be able to manage. You have to listen to survive. As ‘me-ism’ spreads,
people tune out the land and those around them—nobody listens anymore. During
my childhood, we listened to the old people and we paid attention. We lived on
acreage with my aunt and her White husband and my great grandfather lived in a
little hut on the land nearby. He was a good man. We were all in awe of him, my
uncles and cousins: we always listened respectfully. He was a very wise man. I am
heartened to see various chapters directly respecting the environment. Ignoring or
denying climate change reveals how we are losing our connectedness to nature and
to each other. The frequency and intensity of bushfires play on my mind. Aboriginal
people manage the environment through fire stick farming—society can learn so
much from the way Aboriginal people manage the land.
I want to finish this Foreword with a quote from Roger Keesing, who taught me
as an undergraduate anthropology student at Australian National University. He
later moved to McGill University in Canada, which I think has a lovely syn-
chronicity for this book. His quote highlights the interconnectedness of spirituality,
nature, and wisdom and shows how Indigenous peoples already have a deep,
refined knowledge of these issues:
The religions of (First Peoples) usefully remind us that…they develop(ed) philosophies to
situate them within the processes and forces of nature, not on top of them. Such philoso-
phies can well serve as sources of wisdom at a time when our efforts to control and
dominate nature have placed our environment, and our entire planet, gravely at risk.
(Keesing, 1981)
Foreword ix

There is an urgency for non-Indigenous people to become aware of their lack of

connection to the environment and to consider what they should do about it.
Educators can draw upon the many insightful projects included in this book both as
a beginner’s starting point for Indigenizing education practices and as inspiration
for experienced educators to keep going. It is an important breakthrough.

Bribie Island, Australia Dr. Pearl Duncan

References

Duncan, P. (2014a). The role of Aboriginal humour in cultural survival and resistance. Ph.D.
Thesis. St Lucia, QLD: The University of Queensland. https://doi.org/10.14264/uql.2015.107
Duncan, P. (2014b). Next time, you get the fruit. Hecate, 3(1/2), 72–92.
Freire, P. (2000). Pedagogy of the oppressed. New York: Continuum.
Keesing, R. M. (1981). Cultural anthropology: A contemporary perspective. New York: Holt,
Rinehart and Winston.
Preface

Indigenizing education is fundamentally premised as the need to embed Indigenous

worldviews and perspectives within education. It is endorsed by the United Nations
around human and children’s rights (UN, 1989) and Indigenous people’s rights (Ma
Rhea & Anderson, 2011; UN, 2007). Contemporarily, many successive commis-
sions and policies advocate for Indigenous recognition, reconciliation, and
self-determination within the constitutions, policies, and infrastructures of Western
countries (c.f. Maddison, 2016; Recognise; Reconciliation Canada). This recogni-
tion for self-determination has resulted in calls for increased public awareness and
education around the respectful embedding of Indigenous worldviews and per-
spectives in education. In Australia, embedding Aboriginal and Torres Strait
Islander perspectives is a key policy directive at national and state levels (ACARA,
n.d.; EATSIPS, 2011; DEET, 1993). Schools are asked to ‘broaden their under-
standing of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander perspectives through imple-
menting a whole-school strategy in a way that reflects on the past, responds to the
present and creates systemic change for the future’ (EATSIPS, 2011, p. 7).
Teachers are asked to build relationships between Indigenous knowledge systems
(IKS1) and Western knowledge systems (WKS2). There are similar requests in
Canada, with The Truth and Reconciliation Commission outlining 94 ‘Calls to
Action’ to advance the process of Canadian reconciliation (Truth and
Reconciliation, 2015). This landmark report includes several ‘Calls to Action’
related to education that recommend integrating Indigenous knowledge and
teaching methods into classrooms. With the aim of establishing and maintaining
mutually respectful relationships between Indigenous Peoples in Canada and
non-Indigenous Peoples, the Truth and Reconciliation Commission advocates for

1
This book will use the term Indigenous Knowledge Systems (IKS) to acknowledge there are as
many knowledge bases as there are Indigenous peoples. This plurality recognizes and values the
many philosophies, forms, and types of Indigenous knowledges globally.
2
Western knowledge systems (WKS) will be used to differentiate from IKS—to generally refer to
non-Indigenous knowledge production. The use of both terms is not intended to be polemic—we
acknowledge the position of Nakata (2007) that these knowledge systems sometimes converge.

xi
xii Preface

the rewriting of school curriculum to educate all Canadians about what happened to
Indigenous Peoples in Canada. This enhancement to the curriculum has led to
multiple calls for education policy to shift the educational terrain from Eurocentric
perspectives towards one that is inclusive of Indigenous cultures, experiences, and
perspectives. Moreover, the People for Education (2016) endorse this shift and state
that ‘all students will benefit from a deeper understanding of Canada’s history of
colonization and its influence on current relationships between Indigenous and
non-Indigenous people’ (p. 1). In policy, it appears there is a strong commitment to
improving Indigenous education for all students in both Australia and Canada.
However, Whitinui et al., (2018) advise that Pacific Rim countries often share
similar experiences of poor educational outcomes for Indigenous Peoples and a lack
of inclusion of Indigenous content, perspectives, languages, and pedagogies in their
education systems, meaning that there is a disparity between policy intent and
curriculum enactment.
Despite the history of policy supporting the Indigenization of education,
implementation and practice have not lived up to this rhetoric (Milne, 2017; Rowe
& Tuck, 2017; Whitinui et al., 2018). There are many reasons why Indigenizing
education has not occurred including powerful colonial legacies and infrastructures;
vested interest convergence; divergence in educational agendas; enculturated hid-
den curricula; and the teachers’ lack of confidence embedding IKS (McLaughlin &
Whatman, 2015). The majority of people employed in national education systems
in Western countries do not identify as Indigenous (Howard, 1999; Milne, 2017;
Whitinui et al., 2018). Non-Indigenous educators have been found to be reluctant to
engage with IKS in their teaching practice (Milne, 2017) and to lack a recognition
of its importance (McLaughlin & Whatman, 2015). Much of the inertia around
Indigenizing education can be explained through personal beliefs including the
belief that it is not a non-Indigenous educator’s place to act in this space, or a fear of
‘not doing it correctly’ (McLaughlin & Whatman, 2015; Nakata, 2011).
Non-engagement with Indigenous worldviews and perspectives in the curricu-
lum reinforces WKS and diminishes calls for self-determination by holding onto
colonial practices (Pinto & Blue, 2016). Through Indigenizing education, an
understanding how power and control relations manifest within education is
revealed. By embedding Indigenous knowledge and perspectives, a clearer vision
and pathway for changing practices in the classroom are enabled for the benefit of
all learners.
Reconciliation has been linked to a call for education to decolonize itself. This
demands new understandings of the history of colonialism (Battiste, 2017) and new
ways of thinking about learning and teaching practices (Whitinui et al., 2018).
These requests for understanding colonialism may be challenging for some prac-
tising educators. Access to professional development to unpack colonial ideological
worldviews, stereotypes and the attitudes that inhibit culturally responsive practices
may be beneficial, alongside understanding how other educators have Indigenized
their educational practices. This book offers insights into educators who are
Visit https://textbookfull.com
now to explore a rich
collection of eBooks, textbook
and enjoy exciting offers!
Preface xiii

reconsidering their educational philosophies and practices and are seeking guidance
on Indigenizing education. It requires a transformation of pedagogies and practices
whereby societies need to ‘build educational opportunities’ (Whitinui et al., 2018,
ix) with multiple sites for engagement, and where the
struggle for transformation is not a singular struggle. That is, there are multiple sites of
learning and teaching that need to be engaged and changed (often simultaneously).
Seemingly, the struggle to improve Indigenous education outcomes requires critical
reflection and transformation in many different areas across the education and schooling
system. (p. ix)

This book offers educators such an educational opportunity to work towards

meaningfully and critically understanding the terrain associated with Indigenizing
practice. For educators who would like to Indigenize their practices, but are unsure
of how to proceed, this book can be used as a guide. Showcased in this book are
examples from Australia and Canada on how educators (Indigenous and
non-Indigenous) have Indigenized their educational practices. Australia and Canada
were chosen to be the focus of this book for multiple reasons. First, the co-authors
are either Australian, Canadian, or dual citizens with vast experience in learning,
teaching, and researching in this field in both countries. Second, both Australia and
Canada are former British colonies, spread across large continents, with similar
systems of government, economic investment and trade, investment in science and
technology and educational systems. And more importantly, aligning with the focus
of this book, both countries have similar histories of settler colonialism that still
exert influences on education systems. Although there are similarities in how both
countries understand and speak back to settler colonialism, there are also unique
and different theoretical and practical perspectives that offer insights into what it
means to embed Indigenous knowledge systems on different traditional lands. By
identifying these different perspectives, this book explores the synergies involved in
embedding IKS in teaching and learning endeavours.
Each chapter’s author specifically takes time to introduce and scaffold the
conversations and processes of Indigenizing educational practice. As such, this
book offers an easy to read approach that defines key terms, attempts to help the
reader makes sense of underlying theory as well as offering practical case studies of
what it means to Indigenize education. The case studies in this book reveal how
transformation and knowledge building can begin to redefine an educational system
able to support a reconciliation agenda.
We recognize that educators work across many settings, whether within schools
or institutes of higher learning, or in community organizations and workplaces. This
book acknowledges and focuses on that fact that all educators (in both formal
schooling and non-formal settings) in Australia and Canada teach on ‘Country’ or
traditional lands. As such, this book offers an invitation to all educators to explore
what it means to Indigenize education. This book seeks to engage educators, across
multiple community sites where teaching and learning occur, with case studies from
many different settings, to widen the invitation to join in this important dialogue
xiv Preface

and to reflect and transform their own educational practice, wherever it occurs. The
case studies demonstrate how educators understand and challenge colonial agendas
in their everyday educational practice.

Gold Coast, Australia Alison Sammel

Gold Coast, Australia Susan Whatman
Brisbane, Australia Levon Blue

References

Australian Curriculum, Assessment and Reporting Authority. n.d. The Australian Curriculum:
Science. Retrieved from http://www.australiancurriculum.edu.au/Science/Rationale
Battiste, M. (2017). Decolonizing education: Nourishing the learning spirit. UBC Press.
DEET (1993). National Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Education Policy. Canberra:
Australian Government
EATSIPS—ISSU (2011). Embedding Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Perspectives in
Schools. Brisbane: DET. Retrieved from http://Indigenous.education.qld.gov.au/
SiteCollectionDocuments/eatsips-docs/eatsips_2011.pdf.
Howard, G. R. (1999). We can’t teach what we don’t know: White teachers, multiracial schools.
New York: Teachers College Press.
Maddison, S. (2016). Indigenous reconciliation in the US shows how sovereignty and constitutional
recognition work together. The Conversation. Retrieved from http://theconversation.com/
indigenous-reconciliation-in-the-us-shows-how-sovereignty-and-constitutional-recognition-
work-together-54554
Ma Rhea, Z. & Anderson, P. J. (2011). Economic justice and Indigenous education: Assessing the
potential of standards-based and progressive education under ILO169. Social Alternatives, 30
(4), 25–31.
McLaughlin, J. & Whatman, S. (2015). Pre-service teacher agency in pedagogical relationships in
embedding Indigenous knowledges: A case study of urban and remote teaching practicum. In
Malet, R. & Majhonovich (Eds.). Building Democracy in Education on Diversity. Rotterdam:
Sense Publishers.
Milne, E. (2017). Implementing Indigenous Education Policy Directives in Ontario Public
Schools: Experiences, Challenges and Successful Practices. The International Indigenous
Policy Journal, 8(3) . Retrieved from: http://ir.lib.uwo.ca/iipj/vol8/iss3/2, https://doi.org/10.
18584/iipj.2017.8.3.2
Nakata, M. N. (2007). Disciplining the savages, savaging the disciplines. Canberra, ACT:
Aboriginal Studies Press.
Nakata, M. (2011). Pathways for Indigenous education in the Australian curriculum framework.
Australian Journal of Indigenous Education, 40(1), 1–8.
Rowe, A. C., & Tuck, E. (2017). Settler Colonialism and Cultural Studies: Ongoing settlement,
cultural production, and resistance. Cultural Studies Critical Methodologies, 17(1), 3–13.
https://doi.org/10.1177/1532708616653693
Pinto, L. E. & Blue, L. E. (2016). Pushing the entrepreneurial prodigy. Critical Studies in
Education, 57(3), 358–375
Recognise, n.d. Stand for Recognition. Retrieved from http://www.recognise.org.au/
Reconciliation Canada, n.d. Retrieved from http://reconciliationcanada.ca/
Truth and Reconciliation Commission of Canada (2015). Truth and Reconciliation Commission of
Canada: Calls to Action. Winnipeg, CA: Author. Retrieved 31 October 2019 from http://trc.ca/
assets/pdf/Calls_to_Action_English2.pdf
Preface xv

United Nations (UN). (1989). Convention of the Rights of the Child Document A/RES/44/25.
Retrieved from http://sithi.org/admin/upload/law/Convention%20on%20the%20Rights%20of
%20the%20Child.ENG.pdf
United Nations (UN). (2007). Declaration on the rights of Indigenous Peoples (UNDRIPS).
Retrieved from https://www.un.org/development/desa/Indigenouspeoples/declaration-on-the-
rights-of-Indigenous-peoples.html
Whitinui, P., Rodriguez de France, C., & McIvor, O. (2018). Promising practices in Indigenous
teacher education. Singapore: Springer
Acknowledgements

We would like to acknowledge the support for manuscript preparation given by the
School of Education and Professional Studies and the Griffith Institute for
Educational Research. We would particularly like to acknowledge Elizabeth
Stevens and Nicola Stewart for their editorial support.
We also would like to acknowledge the dozen reviewers from Australia and
Canada who blind peer reviewed each chapter to ensure rigorous standards for
publishing for this edited collection on Indigenizing education. Ranging from pro
vice chancellors to professors to Indigenous Portfolio and Research managers, the
majority First Nations’ reviewers have honed our attention to key principles for
Indigenizing education, such as self-awareness, reflexivity, respect, reciprocity, and
a commitment to combating racism in the forms it takes in education systems.

xvii
Introduction

To add to the rich global dialogue that is currently emerging, the first chapter of this
book introduces what Indigenizing education means to five educators who currently
work in school, university, and community education settings. The perspectives
of these five educators Blair Stonechild, Nerida Blair, Linda Goulet, Becki Cook,
and Dale Rowland were sought as they represent a combination of First Nations
Australians, First Nations Canadians, elders, experienced educators, and young
educators. This introductory chapter offers a glimpse into the vast array of per-
spectives on what it means to Indigenize education, why this is important, what
inhibits this process, what role non-Indigenous educators play, and what supports
educators in this endeavour. Through critical and engaged dialogue, these authors
map out their theoretical and practical-based understandings and highlight ways of
thinking, knowing, and doing in Australian and Canadian contexts. Ten overar-
ching themes emerge from the perspectives of these five educators and become the
pivotal points which are discussed in contextual detail in each of the following eight
chapters. These themes become the thread that ties this book together.
Using accessible language, Part I of the book, via the first chapter, introduces the
concepts and scaffolds knowledge to encourage meaningful understandings at every
level of the educator’s experience. Rather than being viewed as an endpoint, as this
learning is never finished or complete, the first chapter builds the context upon
which the next eight chapters offer insight into a wider, collective conversation that
articulates practical ways to Indigenize educational practices. These eight chapters
offer insight into how various themes generated in Chap. 1 are explored in com-
munity, school, and university settings. Each chapter mobilizes relevant practical
applications, showing how educators can embed Indigenous worldviews and/or
perspectives into their unique practice. These chapters draw on case studies of
Indigenizing educational practice from Indigenous and non-Indigenous scholars in
Australia and Canada. They all highlight inclusive approaches to teaching and
learning that move beyond a competitive lens based around a dichotomy or
either/or, to exploring what it means to work in relationship and to act in ways that
build new pathways for perceiving, thinking, and acting.

xix
xx Introduction

Chapters 2 and 3 make up Part II of this book and provide case studies of
Indigenizing education within communities. Chapter 2 involves a First Nations
community in Canada. The author is a member of this community and was com-
pleting her doctorate in Australia. This chapter highlights how Indigenous per-
spectives were used to re-frame the practice of financial literacy education. This
chapter shares how the practice of financial literacy education was transformed from
a deficit approach (where the needs of the participants are assumed) to a praxis
approach (where the needs of the participants are sought). Chapter 3 demonstrates
an understanding of how Indigenous knowledge systems (IKS), also referred to in
this chapter as Indigenous ways of knowing, may be both practically and theo-
retically included within Physical Health Education Teacher Education (PHETE)
programs in Canada to attend to culturally appropriate teaching and curriculum.
Through Community-Based Participatory Research (CBPR), utilizing a narrative
inquiry approach, traditional Indigenous storytelling and conversations were uti-
lized to better understand the deeply contextual nature of the Haudenosaunee
community’s ways of knowing and the importance of representing this knowledge
in a non-generalizable fashion.
Chapters 4–6 comprise Part III of the book and offer case studies of Indigenizing
education within the formal school system in Australia and Canada. Chapter 4
reveals insights into Indigenizing practices via relations within and between
Australian community settings and local schools in South East Queensland. This
chapter reveals how policy frameworks and school engagement strategies shaped
relations between Aboriginal communities, Indigenous primary school students,
and school staffs to successfully integrate local Indigenous knowledges and
Western science knowledge. The chapter analyses what students and community
elders perceived Indigenous knowledges in science education to mean. A narrative
recount provided by the first author, who was responsible for the policy imple-
mentation in the region, illustrates what school–community relationship building
can look like, how to facilitate elder agency in school decision making, and how
embedding Indigenous knowledges into science education can promote moral
messages about living with each other, other entities, and the natural environment.
Chapter 5 discusses Reconciliation and Treaty Education in Primary Schools in
Canada. It outlines the development of two community projects between
Indigenous and non-Indigenous educators in response to the Calls to Action by the
Truth and Reconciliation Commission. Calvin Racette, a Metis Elder from
Saskatchewan, outlines how he co-developed the Treaty4 Project and the Under
One Sun project. The Under One Sun project is a series of 54 books and Elder
videos specifically developed for the primary years to embed Indigenous world-
views and focuses on a collaborative way forward. These classroom materials
include a teacher’s guide to assist understanding and embedding the teaching
outcomes of Treaty Education agendas. Each book is designed to be used as a
leveled reading strategy to improve literacy while embedding Indigenous histories,
cultural competencies, and perspectives. Chapter 6 outlines a case study of how
future teachers in Australia understand embedding Indigenous knowledge systems
within Western science classes. This case study illustrates that, even though well
Introduction xxi

meaning, these future teachers understand embedding to imply a one-time inclusion

of Indigenous acknowledgement or facts/stories in their annual program as appli-
cable with the national curriculum. This knowledge is viewed as being accessible
online and can be presented in isolation from the community or epistemologies in
which the knowledge is located. Although this was a small case study, it led to the
development of a framework that may help educators reflect on their own practices
and understand community-based, collaborative ways forward.
The last three chapters comprise Part IV of the book and present case studies of
Indigenizing education within tertiary institutions within Australia and Canada.
Chapter 7 highlights a case study of Indigenization through Internationalization
from University of Regina in Saskatchewan, Canada. This novel approach explored
how Indigenization and Internationalization agendas and practices were inter-
twined, illustrating common ground that led to a deeper recognition of asymmet-
rical relationships within settler colonial infrastructure. By combining these
intentions, this approach provided context-specific theoretical and practical
perspectives that made visible settler colonial agendas. Chapter 8 outlines a case
study of Indigenizing practice within initial teacher education in one Australian
university. This chapter speaks to a model for supporting the ongoing process of
embedding Indigenous knowledges in teaching practice. The model describes the
relationships and interactions between four contexts including policy governance in
teacher professional standards, teacher education, school and community curricu-
lum arrangements, and teaching practicum experiences. This chapter unpacks these
contexts to assist educators to recognize when and how they need to change their
practices, where to seek help, and how to affirm the efficacy and ethical relatedness
of their approaches. Chapter 9 describes Dr. Kerry Bodle’s experience developing a
First Peoples curricula in a third-year undergraduate business course at an
Australian university. The focus of the chapter is a course titled ‘Engaging with
First Peoples in Business Communities’, to demonstrate how it came to be created,
how it was developed and implemented, illustrating what is required to embed First
Peoples’ perspectives into an existing curriculum.
The final chapter specifically explores how the ten themes that emerged from
Chap. 1 have implications for the teaching and learning that occurs within our
communities, schools, and universities. The complexities of these themes, and how
they are interwoven throughout the previous chapters, are illustrated. Advice and
recommendations are provided for how educational practices can recognize and
respect the intellectual and cultural traditions of Indigenous Peoples within these
two countries.
Contents

Part I Indigenizing Education: Understanding the Importance

1 A Dialogue Around Indigenizing Education and Emerging
Themes . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 3
Nerida Blair, Blair Stonechild, Linda Goulet, Becki Cook,
Dale Rowland, Alison Sammel, and Susan Whatman

Part II Indigenizing Practice in Community Settings

2 Financial Literacy Education in a First Nation Community
in Canada: Educating for Agency . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 31
Levon Blue
3 Re-Conceptualizing Physical Health Education Teacher
Education Through Haudenosaunee Values . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 47
Derek Wasyliw and Lee Schaefer

Part III Indigenizing Practice—Case Studies from School Settings

4 Community and School Collaboration: Initiatives that Enable
Primary Students to Embed Indigenous Knowledges . . . . . . . . . . . 73
Elizabeth Tailby, Susan Whatman, and Alison Sammel
5 Teaching Reconciliation and Treaty Education Through
a Leveled Reading Series in Primary Schools in Canada . . . . . . . . 91
Calvin Racette and Alison Sammel
6 How Embedding Indigenous Knowledge Systems Will Help
the Teaching and Learning of Western Science to Evolve . . . . . . . . 121
Alison Sammel

xxiii
xxiv Contents

Part IV Indigenizing Practice—Case Studies from University

Settings
7 Supporting Indigenization in Canadian Higher Education
Through Strong International Partnerships and Strategic
Leadership: A Case Study of the University of Regina . . . . . . . . . . 147
Alison Sammel and Arturo Segura
8 Embedding Indigenous Knowledges in Australian Initial
Teacher Education: A Process Model . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 163
Susan Whatman, Juliana McLaughlin, and Victor Hart
9 Indigenizing the Business Curriculum at an Australian
University . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 181
Kerry Bodle and Levon Blue
10 Indigenizing Education: Lessons Learned, Pathways Forward . . . . 193
Alison Sammel, Susan Whatman, and Levon Blue

Glossary . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 211
Editors and Contributors

About the Editors

Dr. Alison Sammel works at the School of Education and Professional Studies at
Griffith University on the Gold Coast, Australia, in the fields of Science and
Sustainability education. Her research areas include the teaching, learning, and
communication of science; authentically Indigenizing science education; and
advancing posthumanism and ecological sustainability in science education. She is
a non-Indigenous Australian/Canadian who was raised on, and now lives and works
on, Yugumbeh/Kombumerri traditional lands in Australia. She spent 15 years in the
Southwest region of the Anishinabek Nation in Canada (Ontario) and five years on
Treaty Four lands in Canada (Saskatchewan). In 2008, she was a Smithsonian
fellow in Washington, D.C., where she collaboratively investigated Indigenizing
science education. Prior to her tenure at Griffith University, she was the chair of
science education at the University of Regina, Saskatchewan, Canada. Here she
investigated the impact of Whiteness and White privilege in formal education and
how it disenfranchised First Nations students. This led to collaborative work with
local First Nations communities to co-develop curricular materials that respectfully
incorporated local Indigenous ideologies and perspectives in the teaching and
learning of science. Her publications include three books, and many peer-reviewed
papers and chapters in the field of education, plus two government reports on First
Nations science education. Over the past two decades, she has presented more than
50 international conferences and received awards for her teaching. She has been the
principal researcher on many successfully completed competitive grants and has
supervised many graduate students.

Dr. Susan Whatman is a senior lecturer in Health and Physical Education and
Sport Pedagogy at the School of Education and Professional Studies at Griffith
University on the Gold Coast, Australia. She is a non-Indigenous Australian who
was born and raised on Bundjalung/Minjungbal Country and now lives and works
on Yugumbeh/Kombumerri traditional lands. She is currently working and

xxv
Visit https://textbookfull.com
now to explore a rich
collection of eBooks, textbook
and enjoy exciting offers!
xxvi Editors and Contributors

researching in curriculum development in Indigenous education, Health and

Physical Education, holistic sports coaching approaches, and supporting pre-service
teachers in curriculum leadership on practicum. Her own Ph.D. research was an
investigation into the nature and extent of Indigenous community participation into
health education decision making for Torres Strait Islander girls. Previous research
includes mapping parent-school partnerships in Indigenous education and academic
support systems for university students. Her research has been presented nationally
and internationally since 1993, published widely in books, book chapters, journal
articles, and conference papers.

Dr. Levon Blue is a Senior Lecturer and the Coordinator of the National
Indigenous Research and Knowledges Network (NIRAKN) in the Cearumba
Institute at the Queensland University of Technology (QUT). Levon is a co-editor
of the International Journal of Critical Indigenous Studies. She is a dual citizen of
Australia and Canada and is a member of Beausoleil First Nation. Levon completed
her Ph.D. in 2016, exploring the financial literacy education practices of an
Aboriginal community in Canada as a case study. She is a Chief Investigator on two
Australian Research Council funded grants: special research initiative—National
Indigenous Research and Knowledges Network (NIRAKN) and Discovery
Indigenous—Empowering Indigenous businesses through improved financial and
commercial literacy. She has also taught classes to undergraduate preservice
teachers and research capacity building workshops to Indigenous postgraduate
students. Levon has presented at many national and international conferences and
has published journal articles, book chapters and conference proceedings.

Contributors

Nerida Blair Nerida Blair Consultants, Terrigal, Australia

Levon Blue Queensland University of Technology (QUT), Brisbane, Australia
Kerry Bodle Griffith University, Brisbane, Australia
Becki Cook Griffith University, Southport, Australia
Linda Goulet First Nations University, Regina, Canada
Victor Hart The Aboriginal and Islander Independent Community School—The
Murri School, Brisbane, Australia
Juliana McLaughlin Queensland University of Technology, Brisbane, Australia
Calvin Racette Regina Public Schools, Regina, Canada
Dale Rowland Griffith University, Southport, Australia
Alison Sammel Griffith University, Gold Coast, Australia
Editors and Contributors xxvii

Lee Schaefer Department of Kinesiology and Physical Education, McGill

University, Montreal, Canada
Arturo Segura University of Ottawa, Ottawa, Canada
Blair Stonechild First Nations University, Regina, Canada
Elizabeth Tailby Griffith University, Gold Coast, Australia
Derek Wasyliw Department of Kinesiology and Physical Education, McGill
University, Montreal, Canada
Susan Whatman Griffith University, Gold Coast, Australia
List of Figures

Fig. 1.1 Lilyology—a metaphor for Indigenous knowings and Western

knowings (Blair, 2015, with permissions from Nerida Blair) . . .. 14
Fig. 2.1 Theory of practice architectures (Kemmis et al., 2014, p. 38). . .. 39
Fig. 3.1 Indigenization spectrum. Adapted from Gaudry
and Lorenz (2018) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. 52
Fig. 3.2 Two excerpts from Amelia and Philip’s narrative accounts . . . .. 57
Fig. 5.1 Four directions of the medicine wheel. Permission
from Leia Laing and Naomi Fréçon . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. 99
Fig. 5.2 What do you share Grandmother? Permission from Nelson
Publishers Canada . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 109
Fig. 5.3 What do you share Rabbit? Permission from Nelson
Publishers Canada . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 110
Fig. 5.4 What is a family—Humans? Permission from Nelson
Publishers Canada . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 111
Fig. 5.5 What is a family—Moose? Permission from Nelson
Publishers Canada . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 112
Fig. 5.6 What treaties mean to you? Permission from Nelson
Publishers Canada . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 113
Fig. 5.7 What treaties mean to you? Permission from Nelson
Publishers Canada . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 114
Fig. 5.8 Eagle is a very important bird and is considered a protector
of the world. Permission from Leah Marie Dorion, artist.
http://www.leahdorion.ca/ . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 115

xxix
xxx List of Figures

Fig. 8.1 A process model for embedding Indigenous knowledges

(Permission from McLaughlin & Whatman, 2014) . . . . . . . . . . . . 165
Fig. 8.2 Using the EATSIPS framework to inform teacher
decision-making in partnership with the school community
(EATSIPS-ISSU, 2011, p. 50). Reproduced with permission
of the State of Queensland under Creative Commons Attribution
4.0 International licence (CC BY4.0) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 176
List of Tables

Table 2.1 Practice architectures within Community . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. 41

Table 2.2 Practice architectures outside of Community . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. 42
Table 6.1 Four approaches to incorporate traditional ecological
knowledge in Science education (adapted from Howard,
1999 and Sammel, 2008b) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 130
Table 8.1 A summary of Australian Professional Standards for Teachers
(APST) at all stages regarding Indigenous knowledges
(from Moodie & Patrick, 2017, p. 441) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 169

xxxi
Random documents with unrelated
content Scribd suggests to you:
 ‘Good-bye,’ smiled Angela, holding out her hand, the left one,
which Stephen grasped much too firmly. ‘Good-bye—perhaps one
day you’ll come to tea. We’re on the telephone, Upton 25; ring up
and suggest yourself some day quite soon.’
‘Thanks awfully, I will,’ said Stephen.

‘Had a breakdown or something?’ inquired Puddle brightly, as at

three o’clock Stephen slouched into the schoolroom.
‘No—but Mrs. Crossby’s dog had a fight. She got bitten, so I
drove her back to The Grange.’
Puddle pricked up her ears: ‘What’s she like? I’ve heard rumours
—’
‘Well, she’s not at all like them,’ snapped Stephen.
There ensued a long silence while Puddle considered, but
consideration does not always bring wise counsel, and now Puddle
made a really bad break: ‘She’s pretty impossible, isn’t she,
Stephen? They say he unearthed her somewhere in New York; Mrs.
Antrim says she was a music-hall actress. I suppose you were
obliged to give her a lift, but be careful, I believe she’s fearfully
pushing.’
Stephen flared up like an emotional schoolgirl: ‘I’m not going to
discuss her if that’s your opinion; Mrs. Crossby is quite as much a
lady as you are, or any of the others round here, for that matter. I’m
sick unto death of your beastly gossip.’ And turning abruptly she
strode from the room.
‘Oh, Lord!’ murmured Puddle, frowning.
 5

That evening Stephen rang up The Grange. ‘Is that Upton 25? It’s
Miss Gordon speaking—no, no, Miss Gordon, speaking from Morton.
How is Mrs. Crossby and how is the dog? I hope Mrs. Crossby’s hand
isn’t very painful? Yes, of course I’ll hold on while you go and
inquire.’ She felt shy, yet unusually daring.
Presently the butler came back and said gravely that Mrs.
Crossby had just seen the doctor and had now gone to bed, as her
hand was aching, but that Tony felt better and sent his love. He
added: ‘Madam says would you come to tea on Sunday? She’d be
very glad indeed if you would.’
And Stephen answered: ‘Will you thank Mrs. Crossby and tell her
that I’ll certainly come on Sunday.’ Then she gave the message all
over again, very slowly, with pauses. ‘Will—you thank—Mrs. Crossby
—and tell her—I’ll certainly come—on Sunday. Do you quite
understand. Have I made it quite clear? Say I’m coming to tea on
Sunday.’

CHAPTER 17

I t wasonly five days till Sunday, yet for Stephen those five days
seemed like as many years. Every evening now she rang up The
Grange to inquire about Angela’s hand and Tony, so that she grew
quite familiar with the butler, with his quality of voice, with his habit
of coughing, with the way he hung up the receiver.
She did not stop to analyse her feelings, she only knew that she
felt exultant—for no reason at all she was feeling exultant, very
much alive too and full of purpose, and she walked for miles alone
on the hills, unable to stay really quiet for a moment. She found
herself becoming acutely observant, and now she discovered all
manner of wonders; the network of veins on the leaves, for
instance, and the delicate hearts of the wild dog-roses, the uncertain
shimmering flight of the larks as they fluttered up singing, close to
her feet. But above all she rediscovered the cuckoo—it was June, so
the cuckoo had changed his rhythm—she must often stand
breathlessly still to listen: ‘Cuckoo-kook, cuckoo-kook,’ all over the
hills; and at evening the songs of blackbirds and thrushes.
Her wanderings would sometimes lead her to the places that she
and Martin had visited together, only now she could think of him
with affection, with toleration, with tenderness even. In a curious
way she now understood him as never before, and in consequence
condoned. It had just been some rather ghastly mistake, his
mistake, yet she understood what he must have felt; and thinking of
Martin she might grow rather frightened—what if she should ever
make such a mistake? But the fear would be driven into the
background by her sense of well-being, her fine exultation. The very
earth that she trod seemed exalted, and the green, growing things
that sprang out of the earth, and the birds, ‘Cuckoo-kook,’ all over
the hills—and at evening the songs of blackbirds and thrushes.
She became much more anxious about her appearance; for five
mornings she studied her face in the glass as she dressed—after all
she was not so bad looking. Her hair spoilt her a little, it was too
thick and long, but she noticed with pleasure that at least it was
wavy—then she suddenly admired the colour of her hair. Opening
cupboard after cupboard she went through her clothes. They were
old, for the most part distinctly shabby. She would go into Malvern
that very afternoon and order a new flannel suit at her tailor’s. The
suit should be grey with a little white pin stripe, and the jacket, she
decided, must have a breast pocket. She would wear a black tie—no,
better a grey one to match the new suit with the little white pin
stripe. She ordered not one new suit but three, and she also ordered
a pair of brown shoes; indeed she spent most of the afternoon in
ordering things for her personal adornment. She heard herself being
ridiculously fussy about details, disputing with her tailor over
buttons; disputing with her bootmaker over the shoes, their
thickness of sole, their amount of broguing; disputing regarding the
match of her ties with the young man who sold her handkerchiefs
and neckties—for such trifles had assumed an enormous
importance; she had, in fact, grown quite long-winded about them.
That evening she showed her smart neckties to Puddle, whose
manner was most unsatisfactory—she grunted.
And now some one seemed to be always near Stephen, some
one for whom these things were accomplished—the purchase of the
three new suits, the brown shoes, the six carefully chosen,
expensive neckties. Her long walks on the hills were a part of this
person, as were also the hearts of the wild dog-roses, the delicate
network of veins on the leaves and the queer June break in the
cuckoo’s rhythm. The night with its large summer stars and its
silence, was pregnant with a new and mysterious purpose, so that
lying at the mercy of that age-old purpose, Stephen would feel little
shivers of pleasure creeping out of the night and into her body. She
would get up and stand by the open window, thinking always of
Angela Crossby.

Sunday came and with it church in the morning; then two

interminable hours after lunch, during which Stephen changed her
necktie three times, and brushed back her thick chestnut hair with
water, and examined her shoes for imaginary dust, and finally gave a
hard rub to her nails with a nail pad snatched brusquely away from
Puddle.
When the moment for departure arrived at last, she said rather
tentatively to Anna: ‘Aren’t you going to call on the Crossbys,
Mother?’
Anna shook her head: ‘No, I can’t do that, Stephen—I go
nowhere these days; you know that, my dear.’
 But her voice was quite gentle, so Stephen said quickly: ‘Well
then, may I invite Mrs. Crossby to Morton?’
Anna hesitated a moment, then she nodded: ‘I suppose so—that
is if you really wish to.’
The drive only took about twenty minutes, for now Stephen was
so nervous that she positively flew. She who had been puffed up
with elation and self-satisfaction was crumbling completely—in spite
of her careful new necktie she was crumbling at the mere thought of
Angela Crossby. Arrived at The Grange she felt over life-size; her
hands seemed enormous, all out of proportion, and she thought that
the butler stared at her hands.
‘Miss Gordon?’ he inquired.
‘Yes,’ she mumbled, ‘Miss Gordon.’ Then he coughed as he did on
the telephone, and quite suddenly Stephen felt foolish.
She was shown into a small oak-panelled parlour whose long,
open casements looked on to the herb-garden. A fire of apple wood
burnt on the hearth, in spite of the fact that the weather was warm,
for Angela was always inclined to feel chilly—the result, so she said,
of the English climate. The fire gave off rather a sweet, pungent
odour—the odour of slightly damp logs and dry ashes. By way of a
really propitious beginning, Tony barked until he nearly burst his
stitches, so that Angela, who was lying on the lounge, had perforce
to get up in order to soothe him. An extremely round bullfinch in an
ornate, brass cage, was piping a tune with his wings half extended.
The tune sounded something like ‘Pop goes the weasel.’ At all events
it was an impudent tune, and Stephen felt that she hated that
bullfinch. It took all of five minutes to calm down Tony, during which
Stephen stood apologetic but tongue-tied. She hardly knew whether
to laugh or to cry at this very ridiculous anti-climax.
Then Angela decided the matter by laughing: ‘I’m so sorry, Miss
Gordon, he’s feeling peevish. It’s quite natural, poor lamb, he had a
bad night, he just hates being all sewn up like a bolster.’
 Stephen went over and offered him her hand, which Tony now
licked, so that trouble was ended; but in getting up Angela had torn
her dress, and this seemed to distress her—she kept fingering the
tear.
‘Can I help?’ inquired Stephen, hoping she’d say no—which she
did, quite firmly, after one look at Stephen.
At last Angela settled down again on the lounge. ‘Come and sit
over here,’ she suggested, smiling. Then Stephen sat down on the
edge of a chair as though she were sitting in the Prickly Cradle.
She forgot to inquire about Angela’s dog-bite, though the
bandaged hand was placed on a cushion; and she also forgot to
adjust her new necktie, which in her emotion had slipped slightly
crooked. A thousand times in the last few days had she carefully
rehearsed this scene of their meeting, making up long and elaborate
speeches; assuming, in her mind, many dignified poses; and yet
there she sat on the edge of a chair as though it were the Prickly
Cradle.
And now Angela was speaking in her soft, Southern drawl: ‘So
you’ve found your way here at last,’ she was saying. And then, after
a pause: ‘I’m so glad, Miss Gordon, do you know that your coming
has given me real pleasure?’
Stephen said: ‘Yes—oh, yes—’ Then fell silent again, apparently
intent on the carpet.
‘Have I dropped my cigarette ash or something?’ inquired her
hostess, whose mouth twitched a little.
‘I don’t think so,’ murmured Stephen, pretending to look, then
glancing up sideways at the impudent bullfinch.
The bullfinch was now being sentimental; he piped very low and
with great expression. ‘O, Tannebaum, O, Tannebaum, wie grün sind
Deine Blätter’ he piped, hopping rather heavily from perch to perch,
with one beady black orb fixed on Stephen.
 Then Angela said: ‘It’s a curious thing, but I feel as though I’ve
known you for ages. I don’t want to behave as though we were
strangers—do you think that’s very American of me? Ought I to be
formal and stand-offish and British? I will if you say so, but I don’t
feel British.’ And her voice, although quite steady and grave, was
somehow distinctly suggestive of laughter.
Stephen lifted troubled eyes to her face: ‘I want very much to be
your friend if you’ll have me,’ she said; and then she flushed deeply.
Angela held out her undamaged hand which Stephen took, but in
great trepidation. Barely had it lain in her own for a moment, when
she clumsily gave it back to its owner. Then Angela looked at her
hand.
Stephen thought: ‘Have I done something rude or awkward?’ And
her heart thumped thickly against her side. She wanted to retrieve
the lost hand and stroke it, but unfortunately it was now stroking
Tony. She sighed, and Angela, hearing that sigh, glanced up, as
though in inquiry.
The butler arrived bringing in the tea.
‘Sugar?’ asked Angela.
‘No, thanks,’ said Stephen; then she suddenly changed her mind,
‘three lumps, please,’ she had always detested tea without sugar.
The tea was too hot; it burnt her mouth badly. She grew scarlet
and her eyes began to water. To cover her confusion she swallowed
more tea, while Angela looked tactfully out of the window. But when
she considered it safe to turn round, her expression, although still
faintly amused, had something about it that was tender.
And now she exerted all her subtlety and skill to make this queer
guest of hers talk more freely, and Angela’s subtlety was no mean
thing, neither was her skill if she chose to exert it. Very gradually the
girl became more at her ease; it was up-hill work but Angela
triumphed, so that in the end Stephen talked about Morton, and a
very little about herself also. And somehow, although Stephen
appeared to be talking, she found that she was learning many things
about her hostess; for instance, she learnt that Angela was lonely
and very badly in need of her friendship. Most of Angela’s troubles
seemed to centre round Ralph, who was not always kind and seldom
agreeable. Remembering Ralph she could well believe this, and she
said:
‘I don’t think your husband liked me.’
Angela sighed: ‘Very probably not. Ralph never likes the people I
do; he objects to my friends on principle I think.’
Then Angela talked more openly of Ralph. Just now he was
staying away with his mother, but next week he would be returning
to The Grange, and then he was certain to be disagreeable:
‘Whenever he’s been with his mother he’s that way—she puts him
against me, I never know why—unless, of course, it’s because I’m
not English. I’m the stranger within the gates, it may be that.’ And
when Stephen protested, ‘Oh, yes indeed, I’m quite often made to
feel like a stranger. Take the people round here, do you think they
like me?’
Then Stephen, who had not yet learnt to dissemble, stared hard
at her shoes, in embarrassed silence.
Just outside the door a clock boomed seven. Stephen started;
she had been there nearly three hours. ‘I must go,’ she said, getting
abruptly to her feet, ‘you look tired, I’ve been making a visitation.’
Her hostess made no effort to retain her: ‘Well,’ she smiled,
‘come again, please come very often—that is if you won’t find it dull,
Miss Gordon; we’re terribly quiet here at The Grange.’

Stephen drove home slowly, for now that it was over she felt like a
machine that had suddenly run down. Her nerves were relaxed, she
was thoroughly tired, yet she rather enjoyed this unusual sensation.
The hot June evening was heavy with thunder. From somewhere in
the distance came the bleating of sheep, and the melancholy sound
seemed to blend and mingle with her mood, which was now very
gently depressed. A gentle but persistent sense of depression
enveloped her whole being like a soft, grey cloak; and she did not
wish to shake off this cloak, but rather to fold it more closely around
her.
At Morton she stopped the car by the lakes and sat staring
through the trees at the glint of water. For a long while she sat there
without knowing why, unless it was that she wished to remember.
But she found that she could not even be certain of the kind of dress
that Angela had worn—it had been of some soft stuff, that much she
remembered, so soft that it had easily torn, for the rest her
memories of it were vague—though she very much wanted to
remember that dress.
A faint rumble of thunder came out of the west, where the clouds
were banking up ominously purple. Some uncertain and rather
hysterical swallows flew high and then low at the sound of the
thunder. Her sense of depression was now much less gentle, it
increased every moment, turning to sadness. She was sad in spirit
and mind and body—her body felt dejected, she was sad all over.
And now some one was whistling down by the stables, old Williams,
she suspected, for the whistle was tuneless. The loss of his teeth
had disgruntled his whistle; yes, she was sure that that must be
Williams. A horse whinnied as one bucket clanked against another—
sounds came clearly this evening; they were watering the horses.
Anna’s young carriage horses would be pawing their straw, impatient
because they were feeling thirsty.
Then a gate slammed. That would be the gate of the meadow
where the heifers were pastured—it was yellow with king-cups. One
of the men from the home farm was going his rounds, securing all
gates before sunset. Something dropped on the bonnet of the car
with a ping. Looking up she met the eyes of a squirrel; he was
leaning well forward on his tiny front paws, peering crossly; he had
dropped his nut on the bonnet. She got out of the car and retrieved
his supper, throwing it under his tree while he waited. Like a flash he
was down and then back on his tree, devouring the nut with his legs
well straddled.
All around were the homely activities of evening, the watering of
horses, the care of cattle—pleasant, peaceable things that preceded
the peace and repose of the coming nightfall. And suddenly Stephen
longed to share them, an immense need to share them leapt up
within her, so that she ached with this urgent longing that was
somehow a part of her bodily dejection.
She drove on and left the car at the stables, then walked round
to the house, and when she got there she opened the door of the
study and went in, feeling terribly lonely without her father. Sitting
down in the old arm-chair that had survived him, she let her head
rest where his head had rested; and her hands she laid on the arms
of the chair where his hands, as she knew, had lain times without
number. Closing her eyes, she tried to visualize his face, his kind
face that had sometimes looked anxious; but the picture came
slowly and faded at once, for the dead must often give place to the
living. It was Angela Crossby’s face that persisted as Stephen sat in
her father’s old chair.

In the small panelled room that gave on to the herb-garden, Angela

yawned as she stared through the window; then she suddenly
laughed out loud at her thoughts; then she suddenly frowned and
spoke crossly to Tony.
She could not get Stephen out of her mind, and this irritated
while it amused her. Stephen was so large to be tongue-tied and
frightened—a curious creature, not devoid of attraction. In a way—
her own way—she was almost handsome; no, quite handsome; she
had fine eyes and beautiful hair. And her body was supple like that
of an athlete, narrow-hipped and wide shouldered, she should fence
very well. Angela was anxious to see her fence; she must certainly
try to arrange it somehow.
Mrs. Antrim had conveyed a number of things, while actually
saying extremely little; but Angela had no need of her hints, not now
that she had come to know Stephen Gordon. And because she was
idle, discontented and bored, and certainly not over-burdened with
virtue, she must let her thoughts dwell unduly on this girl, while her
curiosity kept pace with her thoughts.
Tony stretched and whimpered, so Angela kissed him, then she
sat down and wrote quite a short little letter: ‘Do come over to lunch
the day after to-morrow and advise me about the garden,’ ran the
letter. And it ended—after one or two casual remarks about gardens
—with: ‘Tony says please come, Stephen!’

CHAPTER 18

O n a beautiful evening three weeks later, Stephen took Angela

over Morton. They had had tea with Anna and Puddle, and Anna
had been coldly polite to this friend of her daughter’s, but Puddle’s
manner had been rather resentful—she deeply mistrusted Angela
Crossby. But now Stephen was free to show Angela Morton, and this
she did gravely, as though something sacred were involved in this
first introduction to her home, as though Morton itself must feel that
the coming of this small, fair-haired woman was in some way
momentous. Very gravely, then, they went over the house—even
into Sir Philip’s old study.
From the house they made their way to the stables, and still
grave, Stephen told her friend about Raftery. Angela listened,
assuming an interest she was very far from feeling—she was timid of
horses, but she liked to hear the girl’s rather gruff voice, such an
earnest young voice, it intrigued her. She was thoroughly frightened
when Raftery sniffed her and then blew through his nostrils as
though disapproving, and she started back with a sharp exclamation,
so that Stephen slapped him on his glossy grey shoulder: ‘Stop it,
Raftery, come up!’ And Raftery, disgusted, went and blew on his oats
to express his hurt feelings.
They left him and wandered away through the gardens, and
quite soon poor Raftery was almost forgotten, for the gardens smelt
softly of night-scented stock and of other pale flowers that smell
sweetest at evening, and Stephen was thinking that Angela Crossby
resembled such flowers—very fragrant and pale she was, so Stephen
said to her gently:
‘You seem to belong to Morton.’
Angela smiled a slow, questioning smile: ‘You think so, Stephen?’
And Stephen answered: ‘I do, because Morton and I are one,’
and she scarcely understood the portent of her words, but Angela,
understanding, spoke quickly:
‘Oh, I belong nowhere—you forget I’m the stranger.’
‘I know that you’re you,’ said Stephen.
They walked on in silence while the light changed and deepened,
growing always more golden and yet more elusive. And the birds,
who loved that strange light, sang singly and then all together:
‘We’re happy, Stephen!’
And turning to Angela, Stephen answered the birds: ‘Your being
here makes me so happy.’
‘If that’s true, then why are you so shy of my name?’
‘Angela—’ mumbled Stephen.
Then Angela said: ‘It’s just over three weeks since we met—how
quickly our friendship’s happened. I suppose it was meant, I believe
in Kismet. You were awfully scared that first day at The Grange; why
were you so scared?’
 Stephen answered slowly: ‘I’m frightened now—I’m frightened of
you.’
‘Yet you’re stronger than I am—’
‘Yes, that’s why I’m so frightened, you make me feel strong—do
you want to do that?’
‘Well—perhaps—you’re so very unusual, Stephen.’
‘Am I?’
‘Of course, don’t you know that you are? Why, you’re altogether
different from other people.’
Stephen trembled a little: ‘Do you mind?’ she faltered.
‘I know that you’re you,’ teased Angela, smiling again, but she
reached out and took Stephen’s hand.
Something in the queer, vital strength of that hand stirred her
deeply, so that she tightened her fingers: ‘What in the Lord’s name
are you?’ she murmured.
‘I don’t know. Go on holding like that to my hand—hold it tighter
—I like the feel of your fingers.’
‘Stephen, don’t be absurd!’
‘Go on holding my hand, I like the feel of your fingers.’
‘Stephen, you’re hurting, you’re crushing my rings!’
And now they were under the trees by the lakes, their feet falling
softly on the luminous carpet. Hand in hand they entered that place
of deep stillness, and only their breathing disturbed the stillness for
a moment, then it folded back over their breathing.
‘Look,’ said Stephen, and she pointed to the swan called Peter,
who had come drifting past on his own white reflection. ‘Look,’ she
said, ‘this is Morton, all beauty and peace—it drifts like that swan
does, on calm, deep water. And all this beauty and peace is for you,
because now you’re a part of Morton.’
 Angela said: ‘I’ve never known peace, it’s not in me—I don’t
think I’d find it here, Stephen.’ And as she spoke she released her
hand, moving a little away from the girl.
But Stephen continued to talk on gently; her voice sounded
almost like that of a dreamer: ‘Lovely, oh, lovely it is, our Morton. On
evenings in winter these lakes are quite frozen, and the ice looks like
slabs of gold in the sunset, when you and I come and stand here in
the winter. And as we walk back we can smell the log fires long
before we can see them, and we love that good smell because it
means home, and our home is Morton—and we’re happy, happy—
we’re utterly contented and at peace, we’re filled with the peace of
this place—’
‘Stephen—don’t!’
‘We’re both filled with the old peace of Morton, because we love
each other so deeply—and because we’re perfect, a perfect thing,
you and I—not two separate people but one. And our love has lit a
great, comforting beacon, so that we need never be afraid of the
dark any more—we can warm ourselves at our love, we can lie down
together, and my arms will be round you—’
She broke off abruptly, and they stared at each other.
‘Do you know what you’re saying?’ Angela whispered.
And Stephen answered: ‘I know that I love you, and that nothing
else matters in the world.’
Then, perhaps because of that glamorous evening, with its spirit
of queer, unearthly adventure, with its urge to strange, unendurable
sweetness, Angela moved a step nearer to Stephen, then another,
until their hands were touching. And all that she was, and all that
she had been and would be again, perhaps even to-morrow, was
fused at that moment into one mighty impulse, one imperative need,
and that need was Stephen. Stephen’s need was now hers, by sheer
force of its blind and uncomprehending will to appeasement.
 Then Stephen took Angela into her arms, and she kissed her full
on the lips, as a lover.

CHAPTER 19

T hrough the long years of life that followed after, bringing with
them their dreams and disillusions, their joys and sorrows, their
fulfilments and frustrations, Stephen was never to forget this
summer when she fell quite simply and naturally in love, in
accordance with the dictates of her nature.
To her there seemed nothing strange or unholy in the love that
she felt for Angela Crossby. To her it seemed an inevitable thing, as
much a part of herself as her breathing; and yet it appeared
transcendent of self, and she looked up and onward towards her
love—for the eyes of the young are drawn to the stars, and the spirit
of youth is seldom earth-bound.
She loved deeply, far more deeply than many a one who could
fearlessly proclaim himself a lover. Since this is a hard and sad truth
for the telling; those whom nature has sacrificed to her ends—her
mysterious ends that often lie hidden—are sometimes endowed with
a vast will to loving, with an endless capacity for suffering also,
which must go hand in hand with their love.
But at first Stephen’s eyes were drawn to the stars, and she saw
only gleam upon gleam of glory. Her physical passion for Angela
Crossby had aroused a strange response in her spirit, so that side by
side with every hot impulse that led her at times beyond her own
understanding, there would come an impulse not of the body; a fine,
selfless thing of great beauty and courage—she would gladly have
given her body over to torment, have laid down her life if need be,
for the sake of this woman whom she loved. And so blinded was she
by those gleams of glory which the stars fling into the eyes of young
lovers, that she saw perfection where none existed; saw a patient
endurance that was purely fictitious, and conceived of a loyalty far
beyond the limits of Angela’s nature.
All that Angela gave seemed the gift of love; all that Angela
withheld seemed withheld out of honour: ‘If only I were free,’ she
was always saying, ‘but I can’t deceive Ralph, you know I can’t,
Stephen—he’s ill.’ Then Stephen would feel abashed and ashamed
before so much pity and honour.
She would humble herself to the very dust, as one who was
altogether unworthy: ‘I’m a beast, forgive me; I’m all, all wrong—I’m
mad sometimes these days—yes, of course, there’s Ralph.’
But the thought of Ralph would be past all bearing, so that she
must reach out for Angela’s hand. Then, as likely as not, they would
draw together and start kissing, and Stephen would be utterly
undone by those painful and terribly sterile kisses.
‘God!’ she would mutter, ‘I want to get away!’
At which Angela might weep: ‘Don’t leave me, Stephen! I’m so
lonely—why can’t you understand that I’m only trying to be decent
to Ralph?’ So Stephen would stay on for an hour, for two hours, and
the next day would find her once more at The Grange, because
Angela was feeling so lonely.
For Angela could never quite let the girl go. She herself would be
rather bewildered at moments—she did not love Stephen, she was
quite sure of that, and yet the very strangeness of it all was an
attraction. Stephen was becoming a kind of strong drug, a kind of
anodyne against boredom. And then Angela knew her own power to
subdue; she could play with fire yet remain unscathed by it. She had
only to cry long and bitterly enough for Stephen to grow pitiful and
consequently gentle.
‘Stephen, don’t hurt me—I’m awfully frightened when you’re like
this—you simply terrify me, Stephen! Is it my fault that I married
Ralph before I met you? Be good to me, Stephen!’ And then would
come tears, so that Stephen must hold her as though she were a
child, very tenderly, rocking her backwards and forwards.
They took to driving as far as the hills, taking Tony with them; he
liked hunting the rabbits—and while he leapt wildly about in the air
to land on nothing more vital than herbage, they would sit very close
to each other and watch him. Stephen knew many places where
lovers might sit like this, unashamed, among those charitable hills.
There were times when a numbness descended upon her as they sat
there, and if Angela kissed her cheek lightly, she would not respond,
would not even look round, but would just go on staring at Tony. Yet
at other times she felt queerly uplifted, and turning to the woman
who leant against her shoulder, she said suddenly one day:
‘Nothing matters up here. You and I are so small, we’re smaller
than Tony—our love’s nothing but a drop in some vast sea of love—
it’s rather consoling—don’t you think so, belovèd?’
But Angela shook her head: ‘No, my Stephen; I’m not fond of
vast seas, I’m of the earth earthy,’ and then: ‘Kiss me, Stephen.’ So
Stephen must kiss her many times, for the hot blood of youth stirs
quickly, and the mystical sea became Angela’s lips that so eagerly
gave and took kisses.
But when they got back to The Grange that evening, Ralph was
there—he was hanging about in the hall. He said: ‘Had a nice
afternoon, you two women? Been motoring Angela round the hills,
Stephen, or what?’
He had taken to calling her Stephen, but his voice just now
sounded sharp with suspicion as his rather weak eyes peered at
Angela, so that for her sake Stephen must lie, and lie well—nor
would this be for the first time either.
‘Yes, thanks,’ she lied calmly, ‘we went over to Tewkesbury and
had another look at the abbey. We had tea in the town. I’m sorry
we’re so late, the carburettor choked, I couldn’t get it right at first,
my car needs a good overhauling.’
 Lies, always lies! She was growing proficient at the glib kind of
lying that pacified Ralph, or at all events left him with nothing to say,
nonplussed and at a distinct disadvantage. She was suddenly seized
with a kind of horror, she felt physically sick at what she was doing.
Her head swam and she caught the jamb of the door for support—at
that moment she remembered her father.

Two days later as they sat alone in the garden at Morton, Stephen
turned to Angela abruptly: ‘I can’t go on like this, it’s vile somehow—
it’s beastly, it’s soiling us both—can’t you see that?’
Angela was startled. ‘What on earth do you mean?’
‘You and me—and then Ralph. I tell you it’s beastly—I want you
to leave him and come away with me.’
‘Are you mad?’
‘No, I’m sane. It’s the only decent thing, it’s the only clean thing;
we’ll go anywhere you like, to Paris, to Egypt, or back to the States.
For your sake I’m ready to give up my home. Do you hear? I’m
ready to give up even Morton. But I can’t go on lying about you to
Ralph, I want him to know how much I adore you—I want the whole
world to know how I adore you. Ralph doesn’t understand the first
rudiments of loving, he’s a nagging, mean-minded cur of a man, but
there’s one thing that even he has a right to, and that’s the truth.
I’m done with these lies—I shall tell him the truth and so will you,
Angela; and after we’ve told him we’ll go away, and we’ll live quite
openly together, you and I, which is what we owe to ourselves and
our love.’
Angela stared at her, white and aghast: ‘You are mad,’ she said
slowly, ‘you’re raving mad. Tell him what? Have I let you become my
lover? You know that I’ve always been faithful to Ralph; you know
perfectly well that there’s nothing to tell him beyond a few rather
schoolgirlish kisses. Can I help it if you’re—what you obviously are?
Oh, no, my dear, you’re not going to tell Ralph. You’re not going to
let all hell loose around me just because you want to save your own
pride by pretending to Ralph that you’ve been my lover. If you’re
willing to give up your home I’m not willing to sacrifice mine,
understand that, please. Ralph’s not much of a man but he’s better
than nothing, and I’ve managed him so far without any trouble. The
great thing with him is to blaze a false trail, that distracts his mind, it
works like a charm. He’ll follow any trail that I want him to follow—
you leave him to me, I know my own husband a darned sight better
than you do, Stephen, and I won’t have you interfering in my home.’
She was terribly frightened, too frightened to choose her words, to
consider their effect upon Stephen, to consider anyone but Angela
Crossby who stood in such dire and imminent peril. So she said yet
again, only now she spoke loudly: ‘I won’t have you interfering in my
home!’
Then Stephen turned on her, white with passion: ‘You—you—’
she stuttered, ‘you’re unspeakably cruel. You know how you make
me suffer and suffer because I love you the way I do; and because
you like the way I love you, you drag the love out of me day after
day—Can’t you understand that I love you so much that I’d give up
Morton? Anything I’d give up—I’d give up the whole world. Angela,
listen; I’d take care of you always. Angela, I’m rich—I’d take care of
you always. Why won’t you trust me? Answer me—why? Don’t you
think me fit to be trusted?’
She spoke wildly, scarcely knowing what she said; she only knew
that she needed this woman with a need so intense, that worthy or
unworthy, Angela was all that counted at that moment. And now she
stood up, very tall, very strong, yet a little grotesque in her pitiful
passion, so that looking at her Angela trembled—there was
something rather terrible about her. All that was heavy in her face
sprang into view, the strong line of the jaw, the square, massive
brow, the eyebrows too thick and too wide for beauty; she was like
some curious, primitive thing conceived in a turbulent age of
transition.
 ‘Angela, come very far away—anywhere, only come with me soon
—to-morrow.’
Then Angela forced herself to think quickly, and she said just five
words: ‘Could you marry me, Stephen?’
She did not look at the girl as she said it—that she could not do,
perhaps out of something that, for her, was the nearest she would
ever come to pity. There ensued a long, almost breathless silence,
while Angela waited with her eyes turned away. A leaf dropped, and
she heard its minute, soft falling, heard the creak of the branch that
had let fall its leaf as a breeze passed over the garden.
Then the silence was broken by a quiet, dull voice, that sounded
to her like the voice of a stranger: ‘No—’ it said very slowly, ‘no—I
couldn’t marry you, Angela.’ And when Angela at last gained the
courage to look up, she found that she was sitting there alone.

CHAPTER 20

F or three weeks they kept away from each other, neither writing
nor making any effort to meet. Angela’s prudence forbade her to
write: ‘Litera scripta manet’—a good motto, and one to which it was
wise to adhere when dealing with a firebrand like Stephen. Stephen
had given her a pretty bad scare, she realized the necessity for
caution; still, thinking over that incredible scene, she found the
memory rather exciting. Deprived of her anodyne against boredom,
she looked upon Ralph with unfriendly eyes; while he, poor,
inadequate, irritable devil, with his vague suspicions and his chronic
dyspepsia, did little enough to divert his wife—his days, and a fairly
large part of his nights as well, were now spent in nagging.
He nagged about Tony who, as ill luck would have it, had decided
that the garden was rampant with moles: ‘If you can’t keep that
bloody dog in order, he goes. I won’t have him digging craters round
my roses!’ Then would come a long list of Tony’s misdeeds from the
time he had left the litter. He nagged about the large population of
green-fly, deploring the existence of their sexual organs: ‘Nature’s a
fool! Fancy procreation being extended to that sort of vermin!’ And
then he would grow somewhat coarse as he dwelt on the frequent
conjugal excesses of green-fly. But most of all he nagged about
Stephen, because this as he knew, irritated his wife: ‘How’s your
freak getting on? I haven’t seen her just lately; have you quarrelled
or what? Damned good thing if you have. She’s appalling; never saw
such a girl in my life; comes swaggering round here with her legs in
breeches. Why can’t she ride like an ordinary woman? Good Lord,
it’s enough to make any man see red; that sort of thing wants
putting down at birth, I’d like to institute state lethal chambers!’
Or perhaps he would take quite another tack and complain that
recently he had been neglected. ‘Late for every damned meal—
running round with that girl—you don’t care what happens to me
any more. A lot you care about my indigestion! I’ve got to eat any
old thing these days from cow-hide to bricks. Well, you listen to me,
that’s not what I pay for; get that into your head! I pay for good
meals to be served on time; on time, do you hear? And I expect my
wife to be in her rightful place at my table to see that the omelette’s
properly prepared. What’s the matter with you that you can’t go
along and make it yourself? When we were first married you always
made my omelettes yourself. I won’t eat yellow froth with a few
strings of parsley in it—it reminds me of the dog when he’s sick, it’s
disgusting! And I won’t go on talking about it either, the next time it
happens I’ll sack the cook. Damn it all, you were glad enough of my
help when I found you practically starving in New York—but now
you’re for ever racing off with that girl. It’s all this damned animal’s
fault that you met her!’ He would kick out sideways at the terrified
Tony, who had lately been made to stand proxy for Stephen.
But worst of all was it when Ralph started weeping, because, as
he said, his wife did not love him any more, and because, as he did
not always say, he felt ill with his painful, chronic dyspepsia. One day
he must make feeble love through his tears: ‘Angela, come here—
put your arms around me—come and sit on my knee the way you
used to.’ His wet eyes looked dejected yet rather greedy: ‘Put your
arms around me, as though you cared—’ He was always insistent
when most ineffectual.
That night he appeared in his best silk pyjamas—the pink ones
that made his complexion look sallow. He climbed into bed with the
sly expression that Angela hated—it was so pornographic. ‘Well, old
girl, don’t forget that you’ve got a man about the house; you haven’t
forgotten it, have you?’ After which followed one or two flaccid
embraces together with much arrogant masculine bragging; and
Angela, sighing as she lay and endured, quite suddenly thought of
Stephen.

Pacing restlessly up and down her bedroom, Stephen would be

thinking of Angela Crossby—haunted, tormented by Angela’s words
that day in the garden: ‘Could you marry me, Stephen?’ and then by
those other pitiless words: ‘Can I help it if you’re—what you
obviously are?’
She would think with a kind of despair: ‘What am I in God’s name
—some kind of abomination?’ And this thought would fill her with
very great anguish, because, loving much, her love seemed to her
sacred. She could not endure that the slur of those words should
come anywhere near her love. So now night after night she must
pace up and down, beating her mind against a blind problem,
beating her spirit against a blank wall—the impregnable wall of non-
comprehension: ‘Why am I as I am—and what am I?’ Her mind
would recoil while her spirit grew faint. A great darkness would seem
to descend on her spirit—there would be no light wherewith to
lighten that darkness.
She would think of Martin, for now surely she loved just as he
had loved—it all seemed like madness. She would think of her father,
of his comfortable words: ‘Don’t be foolish, there’s nothing strange
about you.’ Oh, but he must have been pitifully mistaken—he had
died still very pitifully mistaken. She would think yet again of her
curious childhood, going over each detail in an effort to remember.
But after a little her thoughts must plunge forward once more, right
into her grievous present. With a shock she would realize how
completely this coming of love had blinded her vision; she had
stared at the glory of it so long that not until now had she seen its
black shadow. Then would come the most poignant suffering of all,
the deepest, the final humiliation. Protection—she could never offer
protection to the creature she loved: ‘Could you marry me,
Stephen?’ She could neither protect nor defend nor honour by
loving; her hands were completely empty. She who would gladly
have given her life, must go empty-handed to love, like a beggar.
She could only debase what she longed to exalt, defile what she
longed to keep pure and untarnished.
The night would gradually change to dawn; and the dawn would
shine in at the open windows, bringing with it the intolerable singing
of birds: ‘Stephen, look at us, look at us, we’re happy!’ Away in the
distance there would be a harsh crying, the wild, harsh crying of
swans by the lakes—the swan called Peter protecting, defending his
mate against some unwelcome intruder. From the chimneys of
Williams’ comfortable cottage smoke would rise—very dark—the first
smoke of the morning. Home, that meant home and two people
together, respected because of their honourable living. Two people
who had had the right to love in their youth, and whom old age had
not divided. Two poor and yet infinitely enviable people, without
stain, without shame in the eyes of their fellows. Proud people who
could face the world unafraid, having no need to fear that world’s
execration.
Stephen would fling herself down on the bed, completely
exhausted by the night’s bitter vigil.
 3

There was some one who went every step of the way with Stephen
during those miserable weeks, and this was the faithful and anxious
Puddle, who could have given much wise advice had Stephen only
confided in her. But Stephen hid her trouble in her heart for the sake
of Angela Crossby.
With an ever-increasing presage of disaster, Puddle now stuck to
the girl like a leech, getting little enough in return for her trouble—
Stephen deeply resented this close supervision: ‘Can’t you leave me
alone? No, of course I’m not ill!’ she would say, with a quick spurt of
temper.
But Puddle, divining her illness of spirit together with its cause,
seldom left her alone. She was frightened by something in Stephen’s
eyes; an incredulous, questioning, wounded expression, as though
she were trying to understand why it was that she must be so
grievously wounded. Again and again Puddle cursed her own folly
for having shown such open resentment of Angela Crossby; the
result was that now Stephen never discussed her, never mentioned
her name unless Puddle clumsily dragged it in, and then Stephen
would change the subject. And now more than ever Puddle loathed
and despised the conspiracy of silence that forbade her to speak
frankly. The conspiracy of silence that had sent the girl forth
unprotected, right into the arms of this woman. A vain, shallow
woman in search of excitement, and caring less than nothing for
Stephen.
There were times when Puddle felt almost desperate, and one
evening she came to a great resolution. She would go to the girl and
say: ‘I know. I know all about it, you can trust me, Stephen.’ And
then she would counsel and try to give courage: ‘You’re neither
unnatural, nor abominable, nor mad; you’re as much a part of what
people call nature as anyone else; only you’re unexplained as yet—
you’ve not got your niche in creation. But some day that will come,
and meanwhile don’t shrink from yourself, but just face yourself
calmly and bravely. Have courage; do the best you can with your
burden. But above all be honourable. Cling to your honour for the
sake of those others who share the same burden. For their sakes
show the world that people like you and they can be quite as selfless
and fine as the rest of mankind. Let your life go to prove this—it
would be a really great life-work, Stephen.’
But the resolution waned because of Anna, who would surely join
hands with the conspiracy of silence. She would never condone such
fearless plain-speaking. If it came to her knowledge she would turn
Puddle out bag and baggage, and that would leave Stephen alone.
No, she dared not speak plainly because of the girl for whose sake
she should now, above all, be outspoken. But supposing the day
should arrive when Stephen herself thought fit to confide in her
friend, then Puddle would take the bull by the horns: ‘Stephen, I
know. You can trust me, Stephen.’ If only that day were not too long
in coming—
For none knew better than this little grey woman, the agony of
mind that must be endured when a sensitive, highly organized
nature is first brought face to face with its own affliction. None knew
better the terrible nerves of the invert, nerves that are always lying
in wait. Super-nerves, whose response is only equalled by the strain
that calls that response into being. Puddle was well acquainted with
these things—that was why she was deeply concerned about
Stephen.
But all she could do, at least for the present, was to be very
gentle and very patient: ‘Drink this cocoa, Stephen, I made it myself
—’ And then with a smile, ‘I put four lumps of sugar!’
Then Stephen was pretty sure to turn contrite: ‘Puddle—I’m a
brute—you’re so good to me always.’
‘Rubbish! I know you like cocoa made sweet, that’s why I put in
those four lumps of sugar. Let’s go for a really long walk, shall we,
dear? I’ve been wanting a really long walk now for weeks.’
Liar—most kind and self-sacrificing liar! Puddle hated long walks,
especially with Stephen who strode as though wearing seven league
boots, and whose only idea of a country walk was to take her own
line across ditches and hedges—yes, indeed, a most kind and self-
sacrificing liar! For Puddle was not quite so young as she had been;
at times her feet would trouble her a little, and at times she would
get a sharp twinge in her knee, which she shrewdly suspected to be
rheumatism. Nevertheless she must keep close to Stephen because
of the fear that tightened her heart—the fear of that questioning,
wounded expression which now never left the girl’s eyes for a
moment. So Puddle got out her most practical shoes—her heaviest
shoes which were said to be damp-proof—and limped along bravely
by the side of her charge, who as often as not ignored her
existence.
There was one thing in all this that Puddle found amazing, and
that was Anna’s apparent blindness. Anna appeared to notice no
change in Stephen, to feel no anxiety about her. As always, these
two were gravely polite to each other, and as always they never
intruded. Still, it did seem to Puddle an incredible thing that the girl’s
own mother should have noticed nothing. And yet so it was, for
Anna had gradually been growing more silent and more abstracted.
She was letting the tide of life carry her gently towards that haven
on which her thoughts rested. And this blindness of hers troubled
Puddle sorely, so that anger must often give way to pity.
She would think: ‘God help her, the sorrowful woman; she knows
nothing—why didn’t he tell her? It was cruel!’ And then she would
think: ‘Yes, but God help Stephen if the day ever comes when her
mother does know—what will happen on that day to Stephen?’
Kind and loyal Puddle; she felt torn to shreds between those two,
both so worthy of pity. And now in addition she must be tormented
by memories dug out of their graves by Stephen—Stephen, whose
pain had called up a dead sorrow that for long had lain quietly and
decently buried. Her youth would come back and stare into her eyes
reproachfully, so that her finest virtues would seem little better than
dust and ashes. She would sigh, remembering the bitter sweetness,
the valiant hopelessness of her youth—and then she would look at
Stephen.
But one morning Stephen announced abruptly: ‘I’m going out.
Don’t wait lunch for me, will you.’ And her voice permitted of no
argument or question.
Puddle nodded in silence. She had no need to question, she
knew only too well where Stephen was going.

With head bowed by her mortification of spirit, Stephen rode once

more to The Grange. And from time to time as she rode she flushed
deeply because of the shame of what she was doing. But from time
to time her eyes filled with tears because of the pain of her longing.
She left the cob with a man at the stables, then made her way
round to the old herb-garden; and there she found Angela sitting
alone in the shade with a book which she was not reading.
Stephen said: ‘I’ve come back.’ And then without waiting: ‘I’ll do
anything you want, if you’ll let me come back.’ And even as she
spoke those words her eyes fell.
But Angela answered: ‘You had to come back—because I’ve been
wanting you, Stephen.’
Then Stephen went and knelt down beside her, and she hid her
face against Angela’s knee, and the tears that had never so much as
once fallen during all the hard weeks of their separation, gushed out
of her eyes. She cried like a child, with her face against Angela’s
knee.
Angela let her cry on for a while, then she lifted the tear-stained
face and kissed it: ‘Oh, Stephen, Stephen, get used to the world—it’s
a horrible place full of horrible people, but it’s all there is, and we
live in it, don’t we? So we’ve just got to do as the world does, my
Stephen.’ And because it seemed strange and rather pathetic that
this creature should weep, Angela was stirred to something very like
love for a moment: ‘Don’t cry any more—don’t cry, honey,’ she
whispered, ‘we’re together; nothing else really matters.’
And so it began all over again.

Stephen stayed on to lunch, for Ralph was in Worcester. He came

home a good two hours before teatime to find them together among
his roses; they had followed the shade when it left the herb-garden.
‘Oh, it’s you!’ he exclaimed as his eye lit on Stephen; and his
voice was so naïvely disappointed, so full of dismay at her
reappearance, that just for a second she felt sorry for him.
‘Yes, it’s me—’ she replied, not quite knowing what to say.
He grunted, and went off for his pruning knife, with which he
was soon amputating roses. But in spite of his mood he remained a
good surgeon, cutting dexterously, always above the leaf-bud, for
the man was fond of his roses. And knowing this Stephen must play
on that fondness, since now it was her business to cajole him into
friendship. A degrading business, but it had to be done for Angela’s
sake, lest she suffer through loving. Unthinkable that—‘Could you
marry me, Stephen?’
‘Ralph, look here;’ she called, ‘Mrs. John Laing’s got broken! We
may be in time if we bind her with bass.’
‘Oh, dear, has she?’ He came hurrying up as he spoke, ‘Do go
down to the shed and get me some, will you?’
She got him the bass and together they bound her, the pink-
cheeked, full-bosomed Mrs. John Laing.
‘There,’ he said, as he snipped off the ends of her bandage, ‘that
ought to set your leg for you, madam!’
 Near by grew a handsome Frau Karl Druschki, and Stephen
praised her luminous whiteness, remarking his obvious pleasure at
the praise. He was like a father of beautiful children, always eager to
hear them admired by a stranger, and she made a note of this in her
mind: ‘He likes one to praise his roses.’
He wanted to talk about Frau Karl Druschki: ‘She’s a beauty!
There’s something so wonderfully cool—as you say, it’s the
whiteness—’ Then before he could stop himself: ‘She reminds me of
Angela, somehow.’ The moment the words were out he was
frowning, and Stephen stared hard at Frau Karl Druschki.
But as they passed from border to border, his brow cleared: ‘I’ve
spent over three hundred,’ he said proudly, ‘never saw such a mess
as this garden was in when I bought the place—had to dig in fresh
soil for the roses just here, these are all new plants; I motored half
across England to get them. See that hedge of York and Lancasters
there? They didn’t cost much because they’re out of fashion. But I
like them, they’re small but rather distinguished I think—there’s
something so armorial about them.’
She agreed: ‘Yes, I’m awfully fond of them too;’ and she listened
quite gravely while he explained that they dated as far back as the
Wars of the Roses.
‘Historical, that’s what I mean,’ he explained. ‘I like everything
old, you know, except women.’
She thought with an inward smile of his newness.
Presently he said in a tone of surprise: ‘I never imagined that
you’d care about roses.’
‘Yes, why not? We’ve got quite a number at Morton. Why don’t
you come over to-morrow and see them?’
‘Do your William Allen Richardsons do well?’ he inquired.
‘I think so.’
 ‘Mine don’t. I can’t make it out. This year, of course, they’ve been
damaged by green-fly. Just come here and look at these standards,
will you? They’re being devoured alive by the brutes!’ And then as
though he were talking to a friend who would understand him:
‘Roses seem good to me—you know what I mean, there’s virtue
about them—the scent and the feel and the way they grow. I always
had some on the desk in my office, they seemed to brighten up the
whole place, no end.’
He started to ink in the names on the labels with a gold fountain
pen which he took from his pocket. ‘Yes,’ he murmured, as he bent
his face over the labels, ‘yes, I always had three or four on my desk.
But Birmingham’s a foul sort of place for roses.’
And hearing him, Stephen found herself thinking that all men had
something simple about them; something that took pleasure in the
things that were blameless, that longed, as it were, to contact with
Nature. Martin had loved huge, primitive trees; and even this mean
little man loved his roses.
Angela came strolling across the lawn: ‘Come, you two,’ she
called gaily, ‘tea’s waiting in the hall!’
Stephen flinched: ‘Come, you two—’ the words jarred on and she
knew that Angela was thoroughly happy, for when Ralph was out of
earshot for a moment she whispered:
‘You were clever about his roses!’
At tea Ralph relapsed into sulky silence; he seemed to regret his
erstwhile good humour. And he ate quite a lot, which made Angela
nervous—she dreaded his attacks of indigestion, which were usually
accompanied by attacks of bad temper.
Long after they had all finished tea he lingered, until Angela said:
‘Oh, Ralph, that lawn mower. Pratt asked me to tell you that it won’t
work at all; he thinks it had better go back to the makers. Will you
write about it now before the post goes?’
‘I suppose so—’ he muttered; but he left the room slowly.