Katherine Webb
The Unseen
© 2011
Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting:
The Soul that rises with us, our life’s Star,
Hath had elsewhere its setting,
And cometh from afar:
(William Wordsworth,
‘Ode on Intimations of Immortality’)
… if we have actually proved the existence upon the surface of this planet of a population which may be as numerous as the human race, which pursues its own strange life in its own strange way, and which is only separated from ourselves by some difference of vibrations…
(Sir Arthur Conan Doyle,
The Coming of the Fairies)
In every plant and animal, we perceive the life-filled spiritual form in addition to the physical form…
(Rudolph Steiner, Theosophy)
1
May 14th, 1911
Dearest Amelia,
It’s the most glorious spring morning here, on a day of some excitement. The new maid arrives today – Cat Morley. I have to admit to feeling a touch of nerves, such is the reputation which precedes her, but then I’m sure she can’t be all bad. Albert was not at all sure about the appointment, but I managed to persuade him with a two-pronged argument, thus: That it would be an act of commendable Christian charity for us to take her on when surely nobody else will; and also that because of her reputation we would be obliged to pay her very little, and she would therefore represent a sound household investment. We are doubling our household staff at virtually no increase in expense! I received a letter of introduction from the housekeeper at Broughton Street – Mrs Heddingly – giving a list of duties with which the girl is familiar, and also urging me not to let her read ‘for all our sakes’. I am not sure what she means by this, but I find it generally wise to heed advice given by those in the know. She – Mrs Heddingly – also passes on a peculiar rumour about the girl. I can’t think why she chooses to mention it and can only assume a love of gossip – that the identity of Cat’s father is the subject of much speculation, and that it has been whispered, taking account of the dark tones of her skin and hair, that he may have been a Negro. Apparently, the other staff at Broughton Street took to calling her Black Cat after this story got about. Well, I’m certain that the girl’s mother, however low her station, would not stoop to such degradation, unless she was the victim of a most heinous crime. And that her poor daughter should go under such an ill-luck name hardly seems fair.
I will not hear her called it again, I am quite resolved.
Amidst the nerves I confess I also look forward to her coming. Not least because there are balls of slut’s wool beneath the beds the size of apples! It’s been many months since Mrs Bell, God bless her, was able to bend down far enough to see to them. The whole house is in need of a thorough seeing to. But it will also give me great pleasure to gather up one of God’s creatures who has been led astray, and who has wandered perilously close to ruin. Here she will find a Godly house, forgiveness and the chance to commend herself to the Lord with hard work and clean living. I intend to offer her every succour in this endeavour, and to take her quite under my wing – she will be my project – imagine it! The chance to truly reform a person, and set them back on quite the right path. I’m sure the girl will see how fortunate she is – to be given such a chance to redeem herself. She comes to us tarnished, and will soon be polished to a shine.
