Part 2 (2/2)
”Now I must go to your mother. Kiss me, my dear!”
As he rose to his feet Mary Louise also sprang from her chair and the Colonel folded his arms around her and for a moment held her tight in his embrace. Then he slowly released her, holding the girl at arms'
length while he studied her troubled face with grave intensity. One kiss upon her upturned forehead and the old man swung around and left the room without another word.
Mary Louise sank into her chair, a little sob in her throat. She felt very miserable, indeed, at that moment. ”Harlequin fate!” she sighed.
”I wonder why it has chosen us for its victims?”
After an hour pa.s.sed in the deserted library she stole away to her own room and prepared for bed. In the night, during her fitful periods of sleep, she dreamed that her mother bent over her and kissed her lips--once, twice, a third time.
The girl woke with a start. A dim light flooded her chamber, for outside was a full moon. But the room was habited only by shadows, save for her own feverish, restless body. She turned over to find a cooler place and presently fell asleep again.
CHAPTER V
OFFICIAL INVESTIGATION
”And you say they are gone?” cried Mary Louise in surprise, as she came down to breakfast the next morning and found the table laid for one and old Eben waiting to serve her.
”In de night, chile. I don' know 'zac'ly wha' der time, by de clock, but de Kun'l an' Missy Burrows did'n' sleep heah a-tall.”
”There is no night train,” said the girl, seating herself thoughtfully at the table. ”How could they go, Uncle?”
”Jus' took deh auto'bile, chile, an' de Kun'l done druv it heself--bag an' baggage. But--see heah, Ma'y 'Ouise--we-all ain' s'pose to know nuth'n' bout dat git-away. Ef some imper'nent puss'n' ask us, we ain'
gwine t' know how dey go, nohow. De Kun'l say tell Ma'y 'Ouise she ain'
gwine know noth'n' a-tall, 'bout nuth'n', 'cause 'tain't n.o.body's business.”
”I understand, Uncle Eben.”
She reflected upon this seemingly unnecessary secrecy as she ate her breakfast. After a time she asked:
”What are you and Aunt Polly going to do, Uncle?”
”Fus' thing,” replied the old negro, ”Polly gwine git yo' traps all pack up an' I gwine take 'em ovah to Missy Stearne's place in de wheel-barrer. Den I gwine red up de house an' take de keys to Ma.s.s'
Gimble, de agent. Den Polly an' me we go back to our own li'l' house in de lane yondeh. De Kun'l done 'range ev'thing propeh, an' we gwine do jus' like he say.”
Mary Louise felt lonely and uncomfortable in the big house, now that her mother and grandfather had gone away. Since the move was inevitable, she would be glad to go to Miss Stearne as soon as possible. She helped Aunt Polly pack her trunk and suit case, afterwards gathering into a bundle the things she had forgotten or overlooked, all of which personal belongings Uncle Eben wheeled over to the school. Then she bade the faithful servitors good-bye, promising to call upon them at their humble home, and walked slowly over the well-known path to Miss Stearne's establishment, where she presented herself to the princ.i.p.al.
It being Sat.u.r.day, Miss Stearne was seated at a desk in her own private room, where she received Mary Louise and bade her sit down.
Miss Stearne was a woman fifty years of age, tall and lean, with a deeply lined face and a tendency to nervousness that was increasing with her years. She was a very clever teacher and a very incompetent business woman, so that her small school, of excellent standing and repute, proved difficult to finance. In character Miss Stearne was temperamental enough to have been a genius. She was kindly natured, fond of young girls and cared for her pupils with motherly instincts seldom possessed by those in similar positions. She was lax in many respects, severely strict in others. Not always were her rules and regulations dictated by good judgment. Therefore her girls usually found as much fault as other boarding school girls are p.r.o.ne to do, and with somewhat more reason. On the other hand, no one could question the princ.i.p.al's erudition or her skill in imparting her knowledge to others.
”Sit down, Mary Louise,” she said to the girl. ”This is an astonis.h.i.+ng change in your life, is it not? Colonel Weatherby came to me last evening and said he had been suddenly called away on important matters that would brook no delay, and that your mother was to accompany him on the journey. He begged me to take you in as a regular boarder and of course I consented. You have been one of my most tractable and conscientious pupils and I have been proud of your progress. But the school is quite full, as you know; so at first I was uncertain that I could accommodate you here; but Miss Dandler, my a.s.sistant, has given up her room to you and I shall put a bed for her in my own sleeping chamber, so that difficulty is now happily arranged. I suppose your family left Beverly this morning, by the early train?”
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