ANGEL    PAVEMENT
faces always wore a resigned look.
There was, to begin with, that institution atmosphere,
which was rather depressing. The sight of those long
tiled corridors did not cheer you when you returned,
tired, rather cross, head-achy, from work in the evening.
The food was monotonous and the dining-room too
noisy. Then, if you were not going out, you had to
choose between your little box of a bedroom, the lounge
(usually dominated by a clique of young insufferable
rowdies), or the silent and inhuman drawing-room.
Moreover, Miss Tattersby, known as 'Tatters," was
terrifying. Very early, Miss Tattersby had arrived at
the sound conclusion that a brisk rough sarcasm was
her best weapon, and she made full use of it. You felt
the weight and force of it even in the notices she was so
fond of pinning up: "Need residents who have First
Dinner take up so much time . . ."; "Some residents
seem to have forgotten that the Staff has other duties
besides . . ."; "Is it necessary again to remind resi-
dents tKat washing stockings in the bathrooms . . .":
that is how they went. But this, after all, was only a
pale reflection of her method in direct talk, and some
girls, finding themselves involved in an intricate affair
concerning a pair of stockings or something of that kind,
preferred to conduct their side of the case by correspond-
ence, in the shape of little notes to Miss Tattersby
hastily left in her office when she was known to be out.
Many a girl, after a little brush with "Tatters," who was
immensely tall and bony and staring, and looked like a
soured Victorian celebrity, had faced the most infuriated
director at her office with a mere shrug. The confident
Burpenfield manner in commercial life, of which we
have seen something in Miss Matfield in Angel Pave-