Mala's Monologue
When their mother walked into the drawing room as she was practising her writing with Lilian, Marla immediately began to feel slightly anxious. She rarely came to see how any of her daughters lessons were going on, and when she did it was usually to give some sort of scathing evaluation. At only eight years old, Marla had started to try and develop a thick skin when it came to these comments, but still her heart began to beat a little quicker just at the sight of her.
“Do come in,Linnet,” Taryn called over her shoulder, breezing past the table with barely a cursory glance at all the hard work laid out on the table, even though it was she who had earlier ordered them to practise. “The fire in here makes this the most amenable room on this …show more content…
oh!”
A familiar female voice drifted in the room but stopped suddenly; Marla refused to look up but she had a feeling it was because she was there. She didn't get shown off so casually very often, but it made sense now that her mother was so insistent that she wore her prosthetic arm. Footsteps hurried towards the fireplace, followed by murmured voices that were not quite quiet enough.
“She... She can write well enough then?”
“Hmmm? Oh, it's not to the standard of the others, of course, but it's legible.”
It's wonderful for someone your age, Miss Marla, their nursemaid had told her after looking over one of her essays one afternoon. You should be very proud of yourself.
“It's a good thing the child is right handed...”
Marla's handwriting slowed as she listened to the conversation, and she hoped her mother and Linnet wouldn't notice. If it was considered barely legible when she tried her best, she didn't want to think about they'd think of it in a moment of distraction.
“It's the only way. Oh the work the boys have produced at the school is wonderful. Cyrell's penmanship is wonderful, and so will Fabian's once he has settled in there next year. And they're so well
“Do come in,Linnet,” Taryn called over her shoulder, breezing past the table with barely a cursory glance at all the hard work laid out on the table, even though it was she who had earlier ordered them to practise. “The fire in here makes this the most amenable room on this …show more content…
oh!”
A familiar female voice drifted in the room but stopped suddenly; Marla refused to look up but she had a feeling it was because she was there. She didn't get shown off so casually very often, but it made sense now that her mother was so insistent that she wore her prosthetic arm. Footsteps hurried towards the fireplace, followed by murmured voices that were not quite quiet enough.
“She... She can write well enough then?”
“Hmmm? Oh, it's not to the standard of the others, of course, but it's legible.”
It's wonderful for someone your age, Miss Marla, their nursemaid had told her after looking over one of her essays one afternoon. You should be very proud of yourself.
“It's a good thing the child is right handed...”
Marla's handwriting slowed as she listened to the conversation, and she hoped her mother and Linnet wouldn't notice. If it was considered barely legible when she tried her best, she didn't want to think about they'd think of it in a moment of distraction.
“It's the only way. Oh the work the boys have produced at the school is wonderful. Cyrell's penmanship is wonderful, and so will Fabian's once he has settled in there next year. And they're so well