CHAPTER XXVBEFORE THE JUDGMENT SEAT
Asfor Beth herself, when she left the table, Miss Carroll spoke to her:
“See Miss Hammersly in the office at once, Miss Baldwin. It is imperative.”
“Yes, Miss Carroll,” Beth said, and went to the interview with apparent calmness.
Miss Hammersly was sitting under the shaded light at her desk, making notes upon a tablet. As Beth entered, the school principal arose quickly so that the shadow fell across her face, while the girl stood in the full glare of the lamp.
“Beth!”
“Yes, Miss Hammersly.”
“I have called you here upon a serious matter.”
“Yes.”
“Do you know the meaning of this afternoon’s exhibition of disloyalty and bad taste on the athletic field?”
Beth did not dodge the issue. “I understand, Miss Hammersly,” she said, “that some of thegirls say I am dishonest. It has something to do with Mrs. Severn. What it means, I do not know.”
Beth’s lips were quivering, but she spoke bravely. Miss Hammersly stared straight at her for fully a minute. She saw the black eyes dim, lose their sparkle, and overflow with slow tears that found their courses, one by one, down the girl’s cheeks.
The principal of Rivercliff School was not given to sentiment—as a practice. But she suddenly came close to Beth and put both arms about her in a motherly way.
“My poor child!” she said. “You are much to be pitied, I believe. I know that you are maligned. You have no knowledge at all of what this exhibition against you on the part of your schoolmates means?”
“Not at all, Miss Hammersly.”
“We will see Mrs. Severn together and find out the facts,” declared the principal.
“Mrs. Severn!”
“Yes. Some of your schoolmates have got hold of something that evidently had its origin at Severn Lodge. It came by way of the back stairs, of course—from one servant to another. It is disgraceful enough,” continued Miss Hammersly with indignation, “that any of my girls should listento servants’ gossip; and worse still that they should allow it to influence their minds against a fellow-student.
“We cannot call on Mrs. Severn to-night, Beth. She is a semi-invalid and probably retires early. But we will go to-morrow afternoon.”
“Oh, Miss Hammersly! It is so kind of you——”
“No, Beth. I cannot claim any such virtue in the case. I must defend the characters of my pupils for my own sake—for the school’s sake. And in this case, my dear, I will defend you for your sake; for I am sure you are guiltless of any intended wrong.”
Miss Hammersly and Beth went together in an automobile the following afternoon to Mrs. Severn’s home. It was true that, when they entered, the footman seemed to place himself before Beth as though to ward her from the stairs, while the ever-watchful foreign maid hissed from the head of the stairs:
“Miz Baldwig ees not to come up, Jeems!”
But Miss Hammersly handed her card to the footman, saying sternly:
“Announce me to your mistress. Give that card to nobody else!”
The maid, casting a malevolent glance at Beth, backed out of sight. The big footman started upthe stairs, the very calves of his legs in their silk stockings trembling in indignation. But the school principal and Beth were immediately ushered into the presence of the mistress of Severn Lodge.
Mr. Montague, upside down as usual, shrieked a greeting in his most appalling fashion. The gouty one threw a cushion at his cage; but possibly owing to nervousness, she missed it.
“Shut up, Mr. Dennis Montague!” she cried.
“Dennis Mudd! Dennis Mudd!” screamed the parrot. Then, soulfully:
“The noble Duke of York,He had ten thousand men,He marched them up a hill one day,Then he marched them down—Too-roo-lal-roo-lal-larry! Johnny come home to tea!”
“The noble Duke of York,He had ten thousand men,He marched them up a hill one day,Then he marched them down—Too-roo-lal-roo-lal-larry! Johnny come home to tea!”
“The noble Duke of York,
He had ten thousand men,
He marched them up a hill one day,
Then he marched them down—
Too-roo-lal-roo-lal-larry! Johnny come home to tea!”
After this long speech the creature was breathless, and the lady of the mansion and Miss Hammersly could converse. The former asked neither of her guests to sit down, nor did she, indeed, glance at Beth.
“I do not understand this call, Miss Hammersly!” said Mrs. Severn, haughtily.
“I propose to explain myself very quickly, Madam,” said the school principal, quite ashaughtily. “When you sent to inquire of me regarding Miss Baldwin last June, after she had gone home, why did you not explain your reason for so doing? Why leave me to find out this calumny against one of my pupils, Mrs. Severn, until now, and through such mean channels?”
“What do you mean, Miss Hammersly, by ‘mean channels,’ pray?” croaked Mrs. Severn.
“Pray! Pray, I say!” croaked the parrot, in a voice scarcely less harsh.
“Shut up, Mr. Montague!”
“Shut up yourself!” returned the parrot, who had now come out of the cage and was walking along the mopboard of the room, pecking at the carpet.
“I do not think I need explain,” said Miss Hammersly. “Through your servants the story has reached my serving people, and, of course, some of the more thoughtless of my girls. Miss Baldwin does not know now of what you accuse her.”
“She should be glad I did not send a policeman after her!” cried Mrs. Severn, in weak rage.
“You should be glad, Madam, that I do not institute suit for slander against you on Miss Baldwin’s behalf—and that I certainly will do if you continue to repeat your accusation.”
“Oh, Miss Hammersly!” begged Beth, in tears now. “Of what am I accused?”
“Of stealing a diamond sunburst. She says it is missing since the last Saturday you were here in June.”
Beth’s gaze flashed to the neck of Mrs. Severn’s gown. The old-fashioned pin she usually wore was missing.
“Oh! that is awful!” the girl murmured.
“No, it is not,” Miss Hammersly said sternly. “It is merely unjust—and actionable. I have come here to tell you, Mrs. Severn, that you must write Miss Baldwin an apology, stating that you have no evidence that she had anything to do with the disappearance of your pin. This disavowal I will read to my girls. And I will send home any one of them who dares repeat the calumny upon Miss Baldwin’s character.”
Mrs. Severn, very angry, tried to be dignified, while the parrot went into a spasm of laughter in the corner of the bay window. But Miss Hammersly had been managing people—and getting her own way with them, too—for twenty years. She and Beth finally left the house with just the paper the school principal had demanded.
On Monday morning after prayers, Miss Hammersly gave the entire school a lecture on the evils of gossip and read Mrs. Severn’s written acknowledgment of the wrong she had done Beth. Maude Grimshaw was very much subdued just at thistime. If the story of the lost pin and the accusation against Beth was repeated, it was done so in secret, thereafter.
The wound, however, remained open in Beth’s soul. It was hard for even such a sweet nature as hers to overlook and forgive the treatment she had received at the hands of many of her schoolmates.