IN September my mother took me back to Cheltenham and left me at Lansdowne Villa. This going back was not nearly so dreadful, as it was not straight from India and I felt I knew the worst. I had been put into a new class, the first class of the second division under Miss Knott. Miss Knott was an excellent teacher, always beautifully dressed in a silk gown rather tightly made which swished about on the polished floors. She was quite unlike her second-in-command, a brisk young woman, Miss Mold, a product of the modern school. I was very fond of both of them and liked my class. The German and French teachers, Mademoiselle Kramer and Fraulein Schmidt, were also first-rate but bad-tempered and terrifying. However, they all made us work, which is the most important point, and were very just, and after my first year I went up into the first division and did French and German under Mademoiselle Ruchet and
I disliked my house mistress very much at first, then came absolutely under her influence and adored her, then finally re turned to my first impression. She was a clever woman and I owe her a deep debt of gratitude for making me hear Wagner before most people in England knew anything about him. She was a great friend of Malten, the famous prima donna. She described Bayreuth and its marvels to me and would have taken me there had my parents let me go.