THERE STOOD THE LITTLE VASETHERE STOOD THE LITTLE VASE, PRESENTING AS BRAVE AN APPEARANCE AS IN ITS FIRST PERFECTION.
Miss Salisbury uttered no exclamation, but preserved her composure by a violent effort.
“I flatter myself on my ability to repair my broken collection,” began Mr. Clemcy, when a loud exclamation from the girls in front startled every one. Miss Anstice, on the first shock, had been unable to find that composure that was always “sister's” envied possession; so despite the environment of the black silk gown, she gave it up, and sank gradually to the ground.
“I told you so,” cried Clem, in a hoarse whisper to her nearest neighbors; “she always spoils everybody's fun,” as Miss Anstice, at the host's suggestion, his sister being rendered incapable of action at this sudden emergency, was put to rest in one of the pretty chintz-covered rooms above, till such time as she could recover herself enough to join them below.
“I couldn't help it, sister,” she said. “I've been so worried about that vase.Youdon't know, because you are always so calm; and then to see it standing there—it quite took away my breath.”
Oh, the delights of the rose-garden! in which every variety of the old-fashioned rose seemed to have had a place lovingly assigned to it. Sweetbrierclambered over the walls of the gardener's cottage, the stables, and charming summer-houses, into which the girls ran with delight. For Mr. Clemcy had said they were to go everywhere and enjoy everything without restraint.
“He's a dear,” exclaimed Lucy Bennett, “only I'm mortally afraid of him.”
“Well, I'm not,” proclaimed Alexia.
The idea of Alexia being in any state that would suggest fear, being so funny, the girls burst out laughing.
“Well, we sha'n't any of us feel like laughing much in a little while,” said Clem dolefully.
“What is the matter?” cried a dozen voices.
“Matter enough,” replied Clem. “I've said so before, and now I know it's coming. Just look at that.”
She pushed aside the swaying branches of the sweetbrier, and pointed tragically. “I don't see anything,” said one or two of the girls.
“There!” “There” meant Mr. Clemcy and Miss Salisbury passing down the rose-walk, the broad central path. He was evidently showing her some treasured variety and descanting on it; the principal of the Salisbury School from her wide knowledge of roses, as well as of othersubjects, being able to respond very intelligently.
“Oh, can't you see? You stupid things!” cried Clem. “He's going to marry our Miss Salisbury, and then she'll give up our school; and—and—” She turned away, and threw herself off in a corner.
A whole chorus of “No—no!” burst upon this speech.
“Hush!” cried Alexia, quite horrified. “Polly, do stop them; Miss Salisbury is turning around; and she's been worried quite enough over that dreadful Miss Anstice,” which had the effect of reducing the girls to quiet.
“But it isn't so,” cried the girls in frantic whispers, “what Clem says.” And those who were not sure of themselves huddled down on the summer-house floor. “Say, Alexia, you don't think so, do you?”
But Alexia would give them no comfort, but wisely seizing Polly's arm, departed with her. “I shall say something that I'll be sorry for,” she declared, “if I stay another moment longer. For, Polly Pepper, I do really believe that it's true, what Clem says.”
And the rest of that beautiful afternoon, withrambles over the wide estate, and tea with berries and cream on the terraces, was a dream, scarcely comprehended by the “Salisbury girls,” who were strangely quiet and well-behaved. For this Miss Salisbury was thankful.
And presently Miss Anstice, coming down in the wake of Miss Ophelia, was put carefully into a comfortable chair on the stone veranda, where she sat pale and quiet, Miss Clemcy assiduously devoting herself to her, and drawing up a little table to her side for her berries and cream and tea.
“Now we will be comfortable together,” said Miss Ophelia, the maid bringing her special little pot of tea.
“I am so mortified, my dear Miss Clemcy,” began Miss Anstice, her little hands nervously working, “to have given way;” all of which she had said over and over to her hostess in the chintz-covered room. “And you are so kind to overlook it so beautifully.”
“It is impossible to blame one of your delicate sensibility,” said Miss Ophelia; with her healthy English composure, quite in her element to have some one to fuss over, and to make comfortable in her own way. “Now, then, I trust that tea is quite right,” handing her a cup.
Top
“Pepper, you're wanted!” Dick Furness banged into Joel's room, then out again, adding two words, “Harrow—immediately.”
“All right,” said Joel, whistling on; all his thoughts upon “Moose Island” and the expedition there on the morrow. And he ran lightly down to the second floor, and into the under-teacher's room.
Mr. Harrow was waiting for him; and pushing aside some books, for he never seemed to be quite free from them even for a moment, he motioned Joel to a seat.
Joel, whose pulses were throbbing with the liveliest expectations, didn't bother his head with what otherwise might have struck him as somewhat queer in the under-teacher's manner. For the thing in hand was what Joel principally gave himself to. And as that clearly could be nothing else than the “Moose Island expedition,” it naturally followed that Mr. Harrow had to speak twice before he could gain his attention.
But when it was gained, there was not the slightest possible chance of misunderstanding what the under-teacher was saying, for it was the habit of this instructor to come directly to the point without unnecessary circumlocution.
But his voice and manner were not without a touch of sadness on this occasion that softened the speech itself.
“Joel, my boy,” Mr. Harrow began, “you know I have often had you down here to urge on those lessons of yours.”
“Yes, sir,” said Joel, wondering now at the voice and manner.
“Well, now to-day, I am instructed by the master to send for you for a different reason. Can you not guess?”
“No, sir,” said Joel, comfortable in the way things had been going on, and wholly unable to imagine the blow about to fall.
“I wish you had guessed it, Joel,” said Mr. Harrow, moving uneasily in his chair, “for then you would have made my task easier. Joel, Dr. Marks says, on account of your falling behind in your lessons, without reason—understand this, Joel,without reason—you are not to go to Moose Island to-morrow.”
Even then Joel did not comprehend. So Mr. Harrow repeated it distinctly.
“What!” roared Joel. In his excitement he cleared the space between them, and gained Mr. Harrow's side. “Not go to Moose Island, Mr. Harrow?” his black eyes widening, and his face working fearfully.
“No,” said Mr. Harrow, drawing a long breath, “you are not to go; so Dr. Marks says.”
“But Imustgo,” cried Joel, quite gone in passion.
“'Must' is a singular word to use here, Joel,” observed Mr. Harrow sternly.
“But I—oh, Mr. Harrow, do see if you can't help me to go.” Joel squirmed all over, and even clutched the under-teacher's arm piteously.
“Alas, Joel! it is beyond my power.” Mr. Harrow shook his head. He didn't think it necessary to state that he had already used every argument he could employ to induce Dr. Marks to change his mind. “Some strong pressure must be brought to bear upon Pepper, or he will amount to nothing but an athletic lad. He must see the value of study,” the master had responded, and signified that the interview was ended, and his command was to be carried out.
“Joel,”—Mr. Harrow was speaking—“be a man, and bear this asyoucan. You've had your chances for study, and not taken them. It is a case ofmustnow. Remember, Dr. Marks is doing this in love to you. He has got to fit you out as well as he can in this school, to take that place in life that your mother wants you to fill. Don't waste a moment on vain regrets, but buckle to your studies now.”
It was a long speech for the under-teacher, and he had a hard time getting through with it. At its end, Joel, half dazed with his misfortune, but with a feeling that as a man, Dr. Marks and Mr. Harrow had treated him, hurried back to his room, dragged his chair up to the table, and pushing off the untidy collection of rackets, tennis balls, boxing gloves, and other implements of his gymnasium work and his recreation hours, lent his whole heart with a new impulse to his task.
Somehow he did not feel like crying, as had often been the case with previous trials. “He said, 'Be a man,'” Joel kept repeating over and over to himself, while the words of his lesson swam before his eyes. “And so I will; and he said, Dr. Marks had got to make me as Mamsiewanted me to be,” repeated Joel to himself, taking a shorter cut with the idea. “And so I will be.” And he leaned his elbows on the table, bent his head over his book, and clutching his stubby crop by both hands and holding on tightly, he was soon lost to his misfortune and the outside world.
“Hullo!” David stood still in amazement at Joel's unusual attitude over his lesson. Then he reflected that he was making up extra work, to be free for the holiday on the morrow. Notwithstanding the need of quiet, David was so full of it that he couldn't refrain from saying jubilantly, “Oh, what a great time we'll have to-morrow, Joe!” giving him a pound on the back.
“I'm not going,” said Joel, without raising his head.
David ran around his chair to look at him from the further side, then peered under the bunch of curls Joel was hanging to.
“What's—what's the matter, Joe?” he gasped, clutching the table.
“Dr. Marks says I'm not to go,” said Joel, telling the whole at once.
“Dr. Marks said you were not to go!” repeatedDavid. “Why, Joel, why?” he demanded in a gasp.
“I haven't studied; I'm way behind. Let me alone,” cried Joel. “I've got a perfect lot to make up,” and he clutched harder than ever at his hair.
“ThenIshall not go,” declared David, and rushing out of the room he was gone before Joel could fly from his chair; which he did, upsetting it after him.
“Dave—Dave!” he yelled, running out into the hall, in the face of a stream of boys coming up from gymnasium practice.
“What's up, Pepper?” But he went through their ranks like a shot. Nevertheless David was nowhere to be seen, as he had taken some short cut, and was lost in the crowd.
Joel bent his steps to the under-teacher's room, knocked, and in his excitement thought he heard, “Come in.” And with small ceremony he precipitated himself upon Mr. Harrow, who seemed to be lost in a revery, his back to him, leaning his elbow on the mantel, and his head upon his hand.
“Er—oh!” exclaimed Mr. Harrow, startled out of his usual composure, and turning quicklyto face Joel. “Oh, it's you, Pepper!” which by no means lifted him out of his depression.
“Dave says he won't go without me. You must make him,” said Joel, in his intensity forgetting his manners.
“To Moose Island?” asked Mr. Harrow.
Joel nodded. He couldn't yet bring himself to speak the name.
“All right; I will, Joe.” Mr. Harrow grasped the brown hand hanging by Joel's side.
“Really?” said Joel, swallowing hard.
“Really. Run back to your books, and trust me.”
So Joel dashed back, not minding the alluring cries from several chums, “Come on—just time for a game before supper,” and was back before his table in the same attitude, and hanging to his hair.
“I can study better so,” he said, and holding on for dear life.
One or two boys glanced in. “Come out of this hole,” they cried. “No need to study for to-morrow. Gee whiz! just think of Moose Island, Joe.”
No answer.
“Joe!” They ran in and shook his shoulders.“Moose Island!” they screamed, and the excitement with which the whole school was charged was echoing it through the length of the dormitory.
“Go away,” cried Joel at them, “or I'll fire something at you,” as they swarmed around his chair.
“Fire your old grammar,” suggested one, trying to twitch away his book; and another pulled the chair out from under him.
Joel sprawled a moment on the floor; then he sprang up, hanging to his book, and faced them. “I'm not going. Clear out.” And in a moment the room was as still as if an invasion had never taken place. In their astonishment they forgot to utter a word.
And in ten minutes the news was all over the playground and in all the corridors, “Joe Pepper isn't going to Moose Island.”
If they had said that the corner stone of the dormitory was shaky, the amazement would not have been so great in some quarters; and the story was not believed until they had it from Joe himself. Then amazement changed to grief. Not to have Joe Pepper along, was to do away with half the fun.
Percy ran up to him in the greatest excitement just before supper. “What is it, Joe?” he cried. “The fellows are trying to say that you're not going to Moose Island.” He was red with running, and panted dreadfully. “And Van is giving it to Red Hiller for telling such a whopper.”
“Well, he needn't,” said Joel, “for it's perfectly true. I'm not going.”
Percy tried to speak; but what with running, and his astonishment, his tongue flapped up idly against the roof of his mouth.
“Dr. Marks won't let me,” said Joel, not mincing matters. “I've got to study; so there's an end of it.” But when Davie came in, a woe begone figure, for Mr. Harrow had kept his promise, then was Joel's hardest time. And he clenched his brown hands to keep the tears back then, for David gave way to such a flood in the bitterness of his grief to go without Joel, that for a time, Joel was in danger of utterly losing his own self-control.
“I'm confounded glad.” It was Jenk who said it to his small following; and hearing it, Tom Beresford blazed at him. “If you weren't quite so small, I'd knock you down.”
“Well, I am glad,”—Jenk put a goodly distance between himself and Tom, notwithstanding Tom's disgust at the idea of touching him—“for Pepper is so high and mighty, it's time he was taken down,” but a chorus of yells made him beat a retreat.
Dr. Marks paced up and down his study floor, his head bent, his hands folded behind him.
“It was the only way. No ordinary course could be taken with Pepper. It had come to be imperative. It will make a man of him.” He stepped to the desk and wrote a few words, slipped them into an envelope, sealed and addressed it.
“Joanna!” He went to the door and summoned a maid, the same one who had shaken her broom at Joel when he rushed in with the dog. “Take this over to the North Dormitory as quickly as possible.” It seemed to be especially necessary that haste be observed; and Dr. Marks, usually so collected, hurried to the window to assure himself that his command was obeyed.
Mrs. Fox took the note as Joanna handed it in, and sent it up at once, as those were the orders from the master. It arrived just at themoment when Joel was at the end of his self-mastery. He tore it open. “My boy, knowing you as I do, I feel sure that you will be brave in bearing this. It will help you to conquer your dislike for study and make a man of you. Affectionately yours, H. L. Marks.”
Joel swung the note up over his head, and there was such a glad ring to his voice that David was too astonished to cry.
“See there!” Joel proudly shook it at him. “Read it, Dave.”
So David seized it, and blinked in amazement.
“Dr. Marks has written to me,” said Joel importantly, just as if David hadn't the note before him. “And he says, 'Be a man,' just as Mr. Harrow said, and, 'affectionately yours.' Now, what do you think of that, Dave Pepper?”
David was so lost in the honor that had come to Joel, that the grief that he was feeling in the thought of the expedition to be made to Moose Island to-morrow without Joel, began to pale. He smiled and lifted his eyes, lately so wet with tears. “Mamsie would like that note, Joe.”
Tom Beresford rushed in without the formality of a knock, and gloomily threw himself onthe bed. “Poor Joe!” was written all over his long face.
“Oh, you needn't, Tom,” said Joel gaily, and prancing up and down the room, “pity me, because I won't have it.”
“It's pity for myself as well,” said Tom lugubriously, and cramming the pillow-end into his mouth. “What's a fellow to do without you, Joe?” suddenly shying the pillow at Joel.
Joe caught it and shied it back, then twitched the master's note out of David's hand. “Read it, Tom,” he cried, with sparkling eyes.
“I'd much rather stay back with you, Joe,” Tom was saying.
“Well, you won't,” retorted Joel. “Dave tried that on, but it was no good. Read it, I tell you.” So Tom sat up on the bed, and spread Dr. Marks' note on his knee.
“Great Cæsar's ghost! It's from the master himself! And what does he say?” Tom rubbed his eyes violently, stared, and rushed over the few sentences pellmell; then returned to take them slowly to be sure of their meaning.
“Joe Pepper!” He got off from the bed.
“Isn't it great!” cried Joel. “Give me my note, Tom.”
“I should say so!” cried Tom, bobbing his head. “I shouldn't in the least mind being kept back from a few things, to get a note like that. Think of it, Joe, from Dr. Marks!”
“I know it,” cried Joel, in huge satisfaction. “Well, now, you must take yourself off, Tom; I've got to study like a Trojan.” He ran to the closet, and came back with his arms full of books.
“All right,” said Tom, shooting out. Then he shot back, gave Joel a pat—by no means a light one;—“Success to you, old fellow!” and was off, this time for good.
And Davie dreamed that night that Joel took first prize in everything straight through; and that he himself was sailing, sailing, over an interminable sea (going to Moose Island probably), under a ban never to come back to Dr. Marks' school. And the first thing he knew, Joel was pounding him and calling lustily, “Get up, Dave; you know you are to start early.”
And then all was bustle and confusion enough, as how could it be helped with all those boys getting off on such an expedition?
And Joel was the brightest of them all, here, there, and everywhere! You never would haveguessed that he wasn't the leading spirit in the whole expedition, and its bright particular star!
And he ran down to the big stone gate to see them off. And the boys wondered; but there was no chance to pity him, with such a face. There was only pity for themselves.
And somebody started, “Three cheers for Joe Pepper!” It wasn't the under-teacher, but he joined with a right good will; and the whole crowd took it up, as Joel ran back to tackle his books, pinching Dr. Marks' letter in his pocket, to make sure it really was there!
Just about this time, Alexia Rhys was rushing to school. She was late, for everything had gone wrong that morning from the very beginning. And of course Polly Pepper had started for school, when Alexia called for her; and feeling as if nothing mattered now, the corner was reached despairingly, when she heard her name called.
It was an old lady who was a friend of her aunt's, and Alexia paused involuntarily, then ran across the street to see what was wanted.
“Oh, my dear, I suppose I ought not to stop you, for you are going to school.”
“Oh, it doesn't matter,” said Alexia indifferently;“I'm late anyway. What is it, Miss Seymour?”
“I want to congratulate you—Imustcongratulate you,” exclaimed old Miss Seymour, with an excited little cackle. “I really must, Alexia.”
Alexia ran over in her mind everything for which she could, by any possibility, be congratulated; and finding nothing, she said, “What for?” quite abruptly.
“Oh, my dear! Haven't you heard?” Old Miss Seymour put her jewelled fingers on the girl's shoulder. She had gathered up her dressy morning robe in her hand, and hastened down her front steps at the first glimpse of Alexia across the way.
Alexia knew of old the roundabout way pursued by her aunt's friend in her narrations. Besides, she cared very little anyway for this bit of old women's gossip. So she said carelessly, “No, I'm sure I haven't; and I don't believe it's much anyway, Miss Seymour.”
“'Much anyway?' oh, my dear!” Old Miss Seymour held up both hands. “Well, what would you say if you should be told that your teacher was going to be married?”
Alexia staggered backward and put up both hands. “Oh, don't, Miss Seymour,” she cried, the fears she had been lighting so many weeks now come true. Then she burst out passionately, “Oh, it isn't true—itcan'tbe!”
“Well, but it is,” cried Miss Seymour positively. “I had it not ten minutes since from a very intimate friend; and as you were the first Salisbury girl I saw, why, I wanted to congratulate you, of course, as soon as I could.”
“Salisbury girl!” Alexia groaned as she thought how they should never have that title applied to them any more; for of course the beautiful school was doomed. “And where shall we all go?” she cried to herself in despair.
“Oh, how could she go and get engaged!” she exclaimed aloud.
“You haven't asked who the man is,” said Miss Seymour in surprise.
“Oh, I know—I know,” said Alexia miserably; “it's Mr. John Clemcy. Oh, if we hadn't had that old picnic!” she burst out.
“Eh—what?” exclaimed the little old lady quickly.
“Never mind. It doesn't signify who the man is. It doesn't signify about anything,” saidAlexia wildly, “as long as Miss Salisbury is going to get married and give up our school.”
“Oh, I don't suppose the school will be given up,” said Miss Seymour.
“What? Why, of course it will be. How can she keep it after she is married?” cried Alexia impatiently. She longed to say, “you goose you!”
“Why, I suppose the other one will keep it, of course; and it will go on just the same as it did before.”
“Oh dear me! The idea of Miss Anstice keeping that school!” With all her misery, Alexia couldn't help bursting into a laugh.
“Miss Anstice?”
“Yes; if you knew her as we girls do, Miss Seymour, you never'd say she could run that school.”
“I never said she could.”
“Oh, yes, you did,” Alexia was guilty of contradicting. “You said distinctly that when Miss Salisbury was married, you supposed Miss Anstice would keep it on just the same.”
Little old Miss Seymour took three or four steps down the pavement, then turned and trotted back, the dressy morning robe still gathered in her hand.
“Who do you think is engaged to Mr. John Clemcy?” she asked, looking up at the tall girl.
“Why, our Miss Salisbury,” answered Alexia, ready to cry, “I suppose. That's what you said.”
“Oh, no, I didn't,” said the little old lady. “It's Miss Anstice Salisbury.”
Alexia gave her one look; then took some flying steps across the street, and away down to the Salisbury School. She met a stream of girls in the front hall; and as soon as she saw their faces, she knew that her news was all old.
And they could tell her something more.
“Miss Wilcox is going to be the assistant teacher,” cried Amy Garrett.
“And Miss Salisbury announced it; why were you late, Alexia?” it was a perfect buzz around her ears. “And then she dismissed school; and we're all going down to the drawing-room now, to congratulate Miss Anstice.”
Alexia worked her way to Polly Pepper and clung to her.
“Oh, Alexia, you've got here!” cried Polly delightedly. “And only think, we can keep our Miss Salisbury after all.”
Top
And Mr. John Clemcy, having put off any inclination to marry till so late in life, was, now that he had made his choice, in a ferment to hurry its consummation. And Miss Ophelia, who was still to keep the house and run the old-fashioned flower garden to suit herself—thus losing none of her honors—and being in her element, as has been stated, with some one “to fuss over” (her self-contained brother not yielding her sufficient occupation in that line), begged that the wedding might take place soon. So there was really no reason on earth why it should not be celebrated, and Miss Wilcox be installed as assistant, and thus all things be in running order for the new year at the Salisbury School.
“And they say he has heaps of money—Mr. Clemcy has,” cried Alexia, in the midst of the excitement of the next few days, when everybody was trying to adjust themselves to this new condition of affairs. A lot of the girls were up inPolly Pepper's room. “And it's an awful old family back of him in England,” she went on, “though for my part, I'd rather have something to do with making my name myself.”
“Oh, Alexia,” cried Clem, “think of all those perfectly elegant old family portraits!”
“Mouldy old things!” exclaimed Alexia, who had small reverence for such things. “I should be ashamed of them, if I were Mr. John Clemcy and his sister. They don't look as if they knew anything to begin with; and such arms and hands, and impossible necks! Oh my! It quite gives me a turn to look at them.”
“We are quite distinguished—the Salisbury School is,” said Silvia, with an elegant manner, and a toss of her head. “My mother says it will be splendid capital to Miss Salisbury to have such a connection.”
“And, oh, just think of Miss Anstice's engagement ring!” exclaimed another girl. “Oh my, on her little thin finger!”
“It's awful old-fashioned,” cried Silvia, “set in silver. But then, it's big, and averypure stone, my mother says; and quite shows that the family must have been something, for it is an heirloom.”
“Oh, do stop about family and heirlooms,” cried Alexia impatiently; “the main thing is that our Miss Salisbury isn't going to desert us.”
“Miss Anstice is; oh, goody!” Amy Garrett hopped up and down and softly beat her hands while she finished the sentence.
“Hush!” Alexia turned on her suddenly. “Now, Amy, and the rest of you girls, I think we ought to stop this nonsense about Miss Anstice; she's going, and I, maybe, haven't treated her just rightly.”
“Of course you haven't,” assented Clem coolly. “You've worried her life nearly out of her.”
“And oh, dear me! I'm sorry now,”—said Alexia, not minding in the least what Clem was saying. “I wonder why it is that I'm forever being sorry about things.”
“Because you're forever having your own way,” said Clem; “I'll tell you.”
“And so I'm going to be nice to her now,” said Alexia, with a perfectly composed glance at Clem. “Let's all be, girls. I mean, behind her back.”
Polly Pepper ran over across the room to slip her arm within Alexia's, and give her a little approving pat.
“It will be so strange not to make fun of her,” observed Amy Garrett, “but I suppose we can't now, anyway, that she is to be Mrs. John Clemcy.”
“Mrs. John Clemcy, indeed!” exclaimed Alexia, standing very tall. “She was just as nice before, as sister of our Miss Salisbury, I'd have you to know, girls.”
“Well, now what are we to give her as a wedding present?” said Polly Pepper. “You know we, as the committee, ought to talk it over at once. Let's sit down on the floor in a ring and begin.”
“Yes,” said Alexia; “now all flop.” And setting the example, she got down on the floor; and the girls tumbling after, the ring was soon formed.
“Hush now, do be quiet, Clem, if you can,” cried Alexia, to pay up old scores.
“I guess I'm not making as much noise as some other people,” said Clem, with a wry face.
“Well, Polly's going to begin; and as she's chairman, we've all got to be still as mice. Hush!”
“I think,” said Polly, “the best way would be, instead of wasting so much time in talking, and—”
“Getting into a hubbub,” interpolated Alexia.
“Who's talking now,” cried Clem triumphantly, “and making a noise?”
“Getting in confusion,” finished Polly, “would be, for us each to write out the things that Miss Anstice might like, on a piece of paper, without showing it to any of the other girls; then pass them in to me, and I'll read them aloud. And perhaps we'll choose something out of all the lists.”
“Oh, Polly, how fine!—just the thing.”
“I'll get the paper.”
“And the pencils.” The ring was in a hubbub; Alexia, as usual, the first to hop out of her place.
“Sit down, girls,” said Polly as chairman. So they all flew back again.
“There, you see now,” said Alexia, huddling expeditiously into her place next to Polly, “how no one can stir till the chairman tells us to.”
“Who jumped first of all?” exclaimed Clem, bursting into a laugh.
“Well, I'm back again, anyhow,” said Alexia coolly, and folding her hands in her lap.
“I'll appoint Lucy Bennett and Silvia Horne to get the paper and pencils,” said Polly. “They are on my desk, girls.”
Alexia smothered the sigh at her failure to be one of the girls to perform this delightful task; but the paper being brought, she soon forgot her disappointment, in having something to do.
“We must all tear it up into strips,” said the chairman, and, beginning on a sheet, “Lucy, you can be giving around the pencils.”
And presently the whole committee was racking its brains over this terribly important question thrust upon them.
“It must be something that will always reflect credit on the Salisbury School,” observed Alexia, leaning her chin on her hand while she played with her pencil.
“Ugh! do be still.” Lucy, on the other side, nudged her. “I can't think, if anybody speaks a word.”
“And fit in well with those old portraits,” said Clem, with a look at Alexia.
“Well, I hope and pray that we won't give her anything old. I want it spick, span, new; and to be absolutely up-to-date.” Alexia took her chin out of her hand, and sat up decidedly. “The idea of matching up those mouldy old portraits!—and that house just bursting with antiques.”
“Ugh! do hush,” cried the girls.
“And write what you want to, Alexia, on your own slip, and keep still,” said Silvia, wrinkling her brows; “you just put something out of my head; and it was perfectly splendid.”
“But I can't think of a thing that would be good enough,” grumbled Alexia, “for the Salisbury School to give. Oh dear me!” and she regarded enviously the other pencils scribbling away.
“My list is done.” Amy Garrett pinched hers into a little three-cornered note, and threw it into Polly's lap.
“And mine—and mine.” They all came in fast in a small white shower.
“Oh my goodness!” exclaimed Alexia, much alarmed that she would be left out altogether. “Wait, Chairman—I mean, Polly,” and she began scribbling away for dear life.
“Oh dear me!” The chairman unfolded the first strip, and began to read. “A piano—why, girls, Miss Anstice can't play.”
“Well, it would look nice in that great big drawing-room,” said Clem, letting herself out with a very red face.
“Oh, my! you wrotea piano!” Alexia wentover backward suddenly to lie flat on the floor and laugh. “Besides, there is one in that house.”
“An old thing!” exclaimed Clem in disdain.
“Well, let's see; here's something nice”—Polly ran along the list—“a handsome chair, a desk, a cabinet. Those are fine!”
“Clem has gone into the furniture business, I should think,” said Philena.
“And a cabinet!” exclaimed Amy Garrett, “when that house is just full of 'em.”
“Oh, I mean a jewel cabinet, or something of that sort,” explained Clem hastily.
“That's not bad,” announced Silvia, “for I suppose he'll give her all the rest of those heirlooms; great strings of pearls probably he's got, and everything else. Dear me, don't I wish we girls could see them!” and she lost herself in admiration over the fabulous Clemcy jewels.
“Well, Chairman—Polly, I mean”—Alexia flew into position—“what's the next list?”
“This is quite different,” said Polly, unrolling it; “some handsome lace, a fan, a lorgnette, a bracelet.”
“It's easy enough to see that's Silvia's,” said Alexia—“all that finery and furbelows.”
“Well, it's not fair to tell what you think and guess,” said Silvia, a pink spot coming on either check.
“'Twouldn't make any difference, my guessing; we all know it's yours, Silvia,” said Alexia, coolly.
“Well, I think that's a lovely list,” said Amy, with sparkling eyes, “and I for one would be willing to vote for any of those things.”
“My mother says we better give her something to wear,” said Silvia, smoothing down her gown. “Miss Anstice likes nice things; and that great big house is running over with everything to furnish with.”
Polly was reading the third list, so somebody pulled Alexia's arm and stopped her. “A watch and chain—that's all there is on this list,” announced Polly.
“Oh!”—there was a chorus of voices—“that's it—that's it!” and “Why didn't I think of that?” until the whole ring was in a tumult again.
It was no matter what was on the other lists. The chairman read them over faithfully, but the items fell upon dull ears. They might make suitable tributes for other brides; there was but one mind about the present for this particularbride going forth from the Salisbury School. The watch and chain was the only gift to be thought of.
“And she wears that great big old-fashioned thing,” declared Silvia; “looks like a turnip—oh, oh!”
“And I do believe that's always made her so impressive and scarey whenever she got into that black silk gown,” said Amy Garrett. “I never thought of it before; but it was that horrible old watch and chain.”
“Girls,” said the chairman, “I do really believe that it would be the very best thing that we could possibly give her. And now I'm going to tell who it was who chose it.”
“Do—oh, do!” The whole ring came together in a bunch, as the girls all crowded around Polly.
“Alexia!” Then Polly turned and gave a loving little pat on the long back.
“Don't,” said Alexia, shrinking away from the shower of congratulations on having made the best choice, and thought of the very thing that was likely to unite the whole school on a gift. “It's nothing. I couldn't help but write it. It was the only thing I thought of.”
“Well; it was just as clever in you as could be, so there now!” Clem nodded over at her, and buried all animosity at once.
“And think how nice it will be, when it's all engraved inside the case with what we want to say,” said Polly, with shining eyes.
“And a great big monogram outside,” said Silvia, with enthusiasm, “and one of those twisted chains—oh, how fine!” She shook out her silver bracelets till they jingled all her enthusiasm; and the entire committee joining, the vote was taken to propose to the rest of the “Salisbury girls,” on the morrow, the gift of a watch and chain to the future Mrs. John Clemcy.
And the watch and chain was unanimously chosen by the “Salisbury girls” as the gift of all gifts they wanted to bestow upon their teacher on her wedding day; and they all insisted that Polly Pepper should write the inscription; so there it was, engraved beautifully on the inner side of the case: “Anstice Salisbury, with the loving regard of her pupils.” And there was a beautiful big monogram on the outside; and the long chain was double and twisted, and so handsome that Silvia's mother protested she hadn't a word to say but the very highest praise!
Oh, and the presentation of it came about quite differently from what was expected, after all. For the gift was to be sent with a little note, representing the whole school, and written, as was quite proper, by Polly Pepper, the chairman of the committee. But Miss Salisbury, to whom the precious parcel had been intrusted, said suddenly, “Why don't you give it to her yourselves, girls?”
It was, of course, the place of the chairman of the committee to speak. So Polly said, “Oh, would she like to have us, Miss Salisbury?”
“Yes, my dears. I know she would. She feels badly to go and leave you all, you know,” and there were tears in the blue eyes that always looked so kindly on them. “And it would be a very lovely thing for you to do, if you would like to.”
“We shouldloveto do it,” cried Polly warmly. “May we go now, dear Miss Salisbury?”
“Yes,” said Miss Salisbury, very much pleased; “she is in the red parlor.”
So the committee filed into the red parlor. There sat Miss Anstice, and—oh dear me!—Mr. John Clemcy!
There was no time to retreat; for Miss Salisbury,not having heard Mr. Clemcy come in, was at the rear of the procession of girls. “Here, my dears—Anstice, the girls particularly want to see you—oh!” and then she saw Mr. John Clemcy.
Miss Anstice, who seemed to have dropped all her nervousness lately, saved the situation by coming forward and greeting them warmly; and when Mr. John Clemcy saw how it was, he went gallantly to the rescue, and was so easy and genial, and matter-of-course, that the committee presently felt as if a good part of their lives had been passed in making presentations, and that they were quite up to that sort of thing.
And Polly made a neat little speech as she handed her the packet; and Miss Anstice's eyes filled with tears of genuine regret at leaving them, and of delight at the gift.
“Girls, do you know”—could it be Miss Anstice who was talking with so much feeling in her voice?—“I used to imagine that you didn't love me.”
“Oh, that could never be!” cried Mr. Clemcy.
“And I got so worried and cross over it. But now I know you did, and that I was simply tired; for I never could teach like sister,”—shecast her a loving glance—“and I didn't really love my work. And, do you know, the thing I've longed for all my life was a watch and chain like this? Oh girls, I shall love it always!”
She threw the chain around her neck; and laid the little watch gently against her cheek.
“Oh!” It was Alexia who pressed forward. “You'll forgive us all, won't you, Miss Anstice, if we didn't love you enough?”
“When I want to forgive, I'll look at my dear watch,” said Miss Anstice brightly, and smiling on them all.
“'Twas that horrible old black silk gown that made her so,” exclaimed Alexia, as they all tumbled off down the hall in the greatest excitement. “You see how sweet she is now, in that white one.”
“And the red rose in her belt,” said Clem.
“And her diamond ring,” added Silvia.
“And we're different, too,” said Clem. “Maybe we wouldn't love to teach a lot of girls any better either, if we had to.”
“Well, and now there's the wedding!” exclaimed Amy Garrett, clasping her hands, “oh!”
“What richness!” finished Alexia.
And everybody said it was “the very prettiestaffair; and so picturesque!” “And those dear Salisbury girls—how sweet they looked, to be sure!” Why, St. John's blossomed out like a veritable garden, just with that blooming company of girls; to say nothing of the exquisite flowers, and ropes of laurel, and palms, and the broad white satin ribbons to divide the favored ones from the mere acquaintances.
“And what a lovely thought to get those boys from the Pemberton School for ushers, with Jasper King as their leader!”
They all made such a bright, youthful picture, to be followed by the chosen eight of the “Salisbury girls,” the very committee who presented the gift to the bride-elect. There they were in their simple white gowns and big white hats.
And then came the little assistant teacher of the Salisbury School, in her pearl gray robe; singularly enough, not half so much embarrassed as she had often been in walking down the long schoolroom before the girls.
And Mr. John Clemcy never thought of such a thing as embarrassment at all; but stood up in his straightforward, manly, English composure, to take his vows that bound him to the little school-teacher. And Miss Salisbury, fairly resplendentin her black velvet gown, had down deep within her heart a childlike satisfaction in it all. “Dear Anstice was happy,” and somehow the outlook for the future, with Miss Wilcox for assistant teacher, was restful for one whose heart and soul were bound up in her pupils' advancement.
Miss Ophelia Clemcy blossomed out from her retirement, and became quite voluble, in the front pew before the wedding procession arrived.
“You see, it was foreordained to be,” she announced, as she had before declared several times to the principal of the Salisbury School. “The first moment he saw her, Brother John was fully convinced that here was a creature of the greatest sensibility, and altogether charming. And, my dear Miss Salisbury, I am only commonplace and practical, you know; so it is all as it should be, and suits me perfectly. And we will always keep the anniversary of that picnic, that blessed day, won't we?”
And old Mr. King invited the eight ushers from the Pemberton School and the committee from the Salisbury School to a little supper to top off the wedding festivities. And Grandpapasat at the head of the table, with Mother Fisher at the other end, and Dr. Fisher and Mrs. Whitney opposite in the centre. And there were wedding toasts and little speeches; and everybody got very jolly and festive. And the little doctor looked down to the table end where he could see his wife's eyes. “It reminds me very much of our own wedding day, wife,” his glance said. And she smiled back in such a way as to fill him with great content.
“And wasn't that reception in the school parlors too perfectly beautiful for anything!” cried Polly Pepper, in a lull, for about the fiftieth time the remark had been made.
“Yes, and didn't Alexia make an awful blunder with her paper of rice!” said Clem sweetly.
“I can't help it,” said Alexia, nowise disturbed; “the old paper burst, and I had to put it in my handkerchief. You couldn't expect me, girls, to keep my wits after that.”
“Well, you needn't have spilt it all over Miss Anstice's bonnet,” said Philena, laughing.
“Mrs. Clemcy's, you mean,” corrected Jasper.
“Oh dear me! I never shall get used to her new name,” declared Philena.
“And I think I got my rice deposited as wellas some of the rest of you girls,” declared Alexia airily.
“Mine struck Mr. Clemcy full in the eye,” said Silvia; “then I ducked behind Polly Pepper.”
“Oh, that was a great way to do!” exclaimed Jasper.
“Oh, I saw her,” said Polly, with a little laugh, “and I jumped away; and Mr. Clemcy saw her, too.”
“Horrors!” cried Silvia. “Did he? Oh, I'm frightened to death! What did he look like, Polly?”
“Oh, he laughed,” said Polly.
Just then came a ring at the doorbell, sharp and sudden.
“What is going to happen?” cried Polly, her face like a rose. “Everything has been beautiful to-day; and now I just know something perfectly lovely is coming to finish off with.”
“A telegram, sir.” Johnson held out a long yellow envelope to Mr. King.
“It's for Mrs. Fisher,” said the old gentleman.
So the yellow envelope went down the table-length, the color going out of Polly's cheek; and she didn't dare to look at Mamsie's eyes.
“Oh—the boys!” gasped Polly. “Jasper, doyou suppose?”—What, she didn't finish; for Mother Fisher just then cried out, and passed the yellow sheet to the little doctor. “Read it aloud,” was all she said. But how her black eyes shone!
“David took first prize classics. I'm picking up a bit.Joel Pepper.”