Mrs. Keller’s smile was a little tight. “I propose we ask the question differently: What does ‘greatness’ mean, for us, as women?”
So began the redefinition of greatness into the act of tirelessly caretaking, organizing transient activities, and brightening people’s day. As Mrs. Keller went on about being the beating heart of every home, the social facilitator, the protector of babies and the elderly, a realization dawned on Catriona: that it was all about the body for a woman. Growing a child, birthing it, nursing it; any female body would do for that. Pleasuring a husband, wiping sweaty brows, stirring the stew: any pair of female hands could do it. Whether the head attached to the female had an interest in Arabic or horticulture, whether she was a lady or a peasant, it was irrelevant as long as she provided the body without fuss to those who needed it. As such, a woman’s destiny was to react to surroundings, not to actively set her own path. An acute anger merged with months of shattered focus, and Catriona’s arm shot up.
Mrs. Keller’s brow creased. “Lady Catriona, do you have a question?”
“Yes,” Catriona said, her blood pumping in her ears. “Have you ever used an appliance invented by a chimpanzee?”
A shocked laugh came from the back of the room.
“I’m afraid I don’t understand your meaning,” Mrs. Keller said stiffly.
“Reproduction isn’t what sets us apart from animals,” Catriona said. “Every wild creature multiplies and raises its young.”
The silence was loud. The very air cooled. It dawned on her only slowly that her logic had failed to impress a single person in the room. The faces of the other girls blurred; they were cotton balls on sticks.
Mrs. Keller’s mouth was a hyphen. “You are to see me in my office after class,” she said.
When the ring of the bell released them from their seats, Alexandra leaned sideways toward Catriona’s desk, looking impressed. “Now you have done it,” she said. “You called them monkeys—to their faces.”
“I didn’t,” Catriona replied, feeling ill. “Also, chimps are apes, not monkeys.”
When Catriona entered Mrs. Keller’s study, Mrs. Keller was in the process of writing a letter, which she finished while Catriona stood silently waiting in front of her desk.
Finally, the cap was placed onto the pen and the headmistress lifted her grave eyes.
In an equally grave tone, she asked: “Have you ever heard of a chimpanzee giving their life for a fellow monkey, out of love or duty, Lady Catriona?”
Ape. It’s an ape.
“I haven’t, no,” she said.
“Hm, how about a monkey sharing food with one too weak to gather a meal for itself?”
“That sounds possible.”
“Silence,” said Mrs. Keller. “What distinguishes us from animals, Lady Catriona, isn’t just a bright mind, it is, quite literally, our humanity. The ability to care for our fellow man at the expense of our own selfish needs and desires. This ability expresses differently in the sexes—as we sacrifice ourselves in the home and in support of our husbands’ success, our men sacrifice themselves on the battlefield. A civilized society relies on our willingness to offer ourselves up to others—ask yourself why this angers you so.”
She thought about it. “I’m selfish?” she suggested. Later, she thought she should have said that not every man enlisted, but every woman was stuck with being a woman.
“Oh, I don’t mean for you to think about it here and now,” Mrs. Keller said with a frown. “Now, your impertinence ought to merit severe consequences. However, I’m familiar with your file. Your mother passed away in childbed when you were quite young?”
For a moment, Catriona couldn’t see very well. “Yes,” she said quietly.
Mrs. Keller’s face softened. “It must have been hard, growing up without her guidance.”
Catriona could think of nothing to say.
“I don’t believe confinement would benefit your development,” Mrs. Keller continued. “Please, read this letter to your father. Does anything strike you as unfair?”
She handed Catriona the letter she had just finished writing.
Her vision still seemed impaired, and the words on the page were only selectively in focus: unsociable . . . contrarian . . . impudent . . .
She handed it back. “It sounds fair enough.”
Mrs. Keller had shaken her head slightly, as if to say What on earth am I to do with you.
What am I to do? Catriona thought as she now circled the park. Her legs moved steadily and without feeling, as if detached from her body, on and on.