Part 31 (2/2)

”Ye don't keep Simmy B. after school no more! And why not?” continued the aggrieved infant, at the same time framing for himself an answer of malicious significance: ”Oh, 'cause he's Lute Cradlebow's brother!”

Social converse was at its high tide, now, in Wallencamp among the birds in the trees and the fowls in the door-yards, and quite as naturally and harmlessly so, for the most part, I think, among the beings of a superior order. They had little other recreation.

The bonfire had marked the close of the gay epoch in Wallencamp. It was too warm now for the livelier recreations of the winter. Religious interest, especially, was at a low ebb. At the evening prayer-meetings, the number of wors.h.i.+ppers appeared but as a handful compared with the number of the unconcerned who lingered outside in the pleasant moonlight.

Conspicuous among these latter, replacing the fervid debates of the winter with a calm philosophy befitting a warmer season, were Captain Sartell and Bachelor Lot.

The old songs held the same charm for them all, however. They sang them ever with pathos in their voices and tears in their eyes.

The little unpremeditated chats by gate and roadside, the neighborly ”droppings-in,” grew more and more frequent.

But when poor Rebecca was taken up on the tide of social wonder and debate, and I heard whisperings concerning her, and knew that an evil suspicion had taken hold of the mind of the little community, and when finally Emily said to me; ”I guess you done about right s.h.i.+rking off Beck, teacher. I guess she ain't no better than she ought to be:” in spite of what I felt to be my own unblemished conscience in the matter and the justice of the retribution which was overtaking Rebecca, I went often to my little room and cried bitterly for her, as well as for myself.

CHAPTER XV.

DAVID ROLLIN IN THE SCHOOL-ROOM.

Mrs. Philander Keeler grew kind. At first, especially while the fisherman was in Wallencamp, her demeanor towards me had been marked by a decided touch of coldness and mistrust. She suspected me, I thought, of trifling with the Cradlebow; now, she invariably deferred to me as a person worthy of all honor and consideration--of congratulation even, in an eminent degree.

She a.s.sumed to be on the most frank and confiding terms with me. She found a thousand little ways for promoting my physical comfort that had never occurred to her before.

So I was the more surprised, when after school, one Friday afternoon, as I was sitting in my room, this same Madeline suddenly appeared before me with her eyes glittering, her lips compressed, and her complexion of that positive green hue which it always wore when she was in a high pa.s.sion.

”There's a gentleman down stairs, waiting to see you, teacher,” she said, with a peculiarly dark inflection on the word gentleman. ”Oh, he's got on an awful interesting look!” snapped out Madeline, with a spiteful little laugh; ”and a suit of light clothes, and a new spring overcoat, and he looked at me as though I was a pane of window-gla.s.s, and he says, 'Oh--ah--yes--is Miss Hungerford in?' I wonder if he's come back to make his farewell calls--” with another unpleasant laugh. ”One thing I can tell him, he'd better steer clear of George Olver!”

Was ever a zealous young devotee, I pondered, more perplexed!

”Come this way, please,” I said, holding out my hand to Madeline; and leaning back in my chair with unaffected weariness, at least. ”Is Mr.

Rollin down stairs?”

”They call him that, I believe,” said Madeline, sententiously; ”things don't always get their right names in this world.”

”Well, you may tell him,” I said; ”that I can't see him.”

Madeline's countenance changed wonderfully in an instant. She gave me a bright look, and without waiting for another word, ran down the stairs.

When she came back her tongue ran on glibly:--

”I told him,” said she; ”that you couldn't see him, and he kept on in that window-gla.s.s way of looking, and his head as high as ever, and he took his hat and 'I'm very sorry,' he says, 'that Miss Hungerford is indisposed, and I hope I shall have an opportunity of seeing her this evening.'

”He said he came to-day, and was going away to-morrow morning, and he had something of importance to communicate, and I knew he expected I'd go up and see you again about it, but I didn't. So he said he'd call again this evening or to-morrow morning, just which 'd be most agreeable, and expected I'd budge then, sure, but I didn't show any signs of it; and I told him rightly, I guessed one time would be about as agreeable as another; and I suppose he thought he wouldn't show mad before such common bred folks. He smiled that window-gla.s.s looking smile of his, and says; 'Ah, thank you; now I won't detain you any longer, Mrs. Keeler,' and out he went.

”I suppose he's come down to smooth everything over, and have it hushed up with Beck and her folks. Well, money'll do a good deal for a man, but it wouldn't stand him much if he got into George Olver's hands. However, teacher,” concluded Madeline, in a sprightly tone; ”give the Devil his due. It's better'n as if he'd run off and never showed his head again; and I don't suppose he'll get much satisfaction out of you, if you do see him, teacher. It's better to trust honest folks than rogues, and n.o.body knows that better than the rogues themselves.”

I knew that this last clause was not designed as a personal thrust by Madeline, yet I could not help musing a little over it, smilingly, after she had gone. The fiction, of which I was living a part, in Wallencamp, was taking on, it seemed to me, a tinge even of the tragic--perplexities were deepening. I was becoming, more than ever, the suffering though exalted heroine of a romance.

I rose, and dressed myself before the gla.s.s, I remember, with particular care. I did not know why I should dread or avoid seeing the fisherman in the evening, since the part I had to sustain in the interview was so distinctly calm, dispa.s.sionate, and spiritually remote. At the same time, I wished that my cheeks had not grown so pale and my eyes so dark-rimmed and hollow. They bespoke the interesting part I had to play in the world's tragedy, but were not, otherwise, so becoming as I could have wished.

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