CHAPTER XI.
Miss Hanscom was nervous when she called the school to order. Her voicewas sharp and her body rigid as steel. Her state of mind was felt allover the room. The silence was ominous. It was not that of a healthy,well-disciplined set of boys and girls. It was a condition impelled byfear.
The girls sat bolt upright, not daring to glance at the door throughwhich the visitors were being ushered by Miss Ward, the vice-principal.The boys twisted the tops of the ink wells or sat with their hands deepin their pockets, trying their best to appear unconcerned, while theireyes were anywhere but upon the visitors.
Miss Ward was a wholly different type from Miss Hanscom. She neverthought of herself or the impression that she might be making. Herdesire was to make everyone about her comfortable and happy. It follows,of course, that one loves that person who brings out the best in one.The instant Miss Ward entered the room there was a relaxation of tensemuscles and a sigh went over the room. Unconsciously each boy and girlfelt easier. Miss Ward made them feel at ease. They could do their bestif she were presiding in the school-room.
The guests who were being ushered in were worth notice. The dignified,stately judge with his silver hair, and judicial, yet kindly bearing;Colonel Evans, who bore the marks of military training in every move,although years were heavy upon them. Mr. Laurens, a prominent engineerand construction man who had built the finest bridges in the world, andwho was always called in for conference whenever any great engineeringfeat was in prospect. He was a man in the forties, perhaps. He wasparticularly fine appearing, with no thought of self in his bearing orexpression. Indeed, his whole attitude was centered upon his wife. Hewas careful of her comfort, and most considerate toward her in everyway. She was a dainty woman, slender in physique, with delicate,exquisite coloring, and wonderfully expressive eyes. She smiled andlaughed as she talked with Miss Ward, yet her face, when at rest,expressed only sadness.
Beth's eyes rested upon her and remained there. She fairly held herbreath. Never in her life had she seen anything so exquisite as thiswoman. Her heart gave a great leap. Beth watched her while she wastalking and until she moved across the room and took her place with theothers before the school. Then the woman sat silent, and the peculiarlook of wistful sadness came to her face. Beth felt it. She did not knowwhat had caused the change in her own feelings; but her heart sank, andgreat tears sprang to her eyes.
"She's so sweet that it makes my heart ache," she told herself."Wouldn't it be heavenly to be her little girl. I'd love her to death.I'd hug her until she couldn't breathe."
Poor little prosaic Beth had grown sentimental. She sat quite still withher eyes upon the woman. She neither spoke nor moved. She forgot thatthere was any one else in the room. As far as she was concerned, Mrs.Laurens was the only one.
But the woman's glance never turned in Beth's direction. After thatsweet, fleeting glance over the room, she had let her eyes droop uponher hands folded in her lap, and she did not raise them again. Herhusband sat near her. He talked with those about him and seemed a partof everything, yet it was evident that his wife engrossed his thoughts,for his tender, yet uneasy glances were turned upon her. She seemedunconscious of this and sat quiet as though in deep thought.
The program began. There was a general stiffening of spines. CarrieLaire leaned over to ask Beth if she didn't think Mrs. Laurens the mostbeautiful creature in the world, and if she was not sorry that she didnot have a mother who would come to visit school. Adee had come and wassitting up in front among the visitors. Mrs. Laire was near her.
"I have Adee. She's better than any mother I ever saw. She's theprettiest woman there--except Mrs. Laurens," she said.
Tilly Jones was straightening out her hair-ribbons. She smoothed hersash and drew it over the edge of the seat that it might not muss. Thenshe adjusted her rings and bracelets. Her fussiness brought the eyes ofthe visitors upon her. Tilly was not abashed. She met their glances andturned to give a loving pat to her sash. Then she leaned forward tospeak to Beth. "Look at Mrs. Laurens' motor-coat. Isn't it simplydivine? It must have cost fifty dollars. Look at the heels of her shoes.They're the most expensive shoes that can be bought. My aunt Tilly--."She continued her monologue in a whisper. Beth was not listening to aword she said. Her eyes and mind were upon the wonderful woman who satat the front of the room.
The fairy-stories and "make-believe" tales between Adee and Beth hadcontinued all the years that they were together, so that the child'snative imagination had been well developed. This would be such a lovelystory. The lady would be the princess or queen who had had a greatsorrow. Beth thought it all out as she sat there. She would write aboutit, and read it at the next meeting of the Literary Society. She wasglad that Sally Monroe had put her on the program.
The exercises were progressing nicely. Some one thumped out a solo onthe piano. There were essays on subjects which a sage would havehesitated to handle. _The High School Daily_ was presented. HarveyLackard, the red-headed, freckle-faced boy, was editor-in-chief and readthe edition. There were editorials and poems. Beth sat up to listen.This was something new and really worth while. She forgot for a time thesweet-faced woman sitting before her. She laughed aloud when Harveyread, "What They Remind Me Of." There followed a list of the pupils withsome characteristic appended.
Tilly Jones--An Animated Price List. Carrie Laire--The Living Question Mark. Sally Monroe--A Lubricating Oil Can. Beth Wells--The Verbal Pugilist.
Beth laughed as heartily as any at the gibe at herself. It was a littleodd. Only twice in her life had she spoken sharply. Harvey had beenpresent. He knew nothing of the thousand times she had maintained adiscreet, though painful, silence.
She laughed, but nevertheless she was sorry that Harvey had receivedsuch an unpleasant impression of her.
Tilly Jones was to recite. When her name was called, there was a littleflutter of excitement about her desk, she straightened her sash andturned her bracelet about so that the sets might show. She did thiswhile she walked up the aisle. All the while she watched the visitors tosee how her elegance was impressing them. They smiled. She accepted thisas a sign of admiration, and, self-confident, took her stand in themiddle of the platform. There was a moment's silence. She twisted herbracelet, put her hand back of her and coughed. This was followed by alonger silence. She raised her eyes imploringly toward Miss Ward. Theteacher knew the symptoms.
"The Assyrian came down like a wolf," repeated Miss Ward.
"The Assyrian came down like a wolf," cried Tilly confidently. Then shepaused, coughed, and brought her hands to the front.
"The Assyrian came down like a wolf," she said again. After this, shestraightened herself, changed her weight to her left foot, and caughtthe ends of her sash. She bent her head as though trying to recall theelusive next line. She pressed her lips and fixed her eyes vacantly upona picture at the farthest end of the room.
"The Assyrian came down like a wolf--like a wolf--"
"Take your seat," said Miss Ward.
Tilly obeyed. As she passed Harvey Lackard he whispered, and every oneheard: "All price lists marked down." Tilly smiled good-naturedly. Shehad not grasped the wit of his remark and in no way thought it appliedto her.
Mrs. Laurens's eyes followed her until she took her seat. Beth had movedso that her face was in full view. The eyes of the woman fell upon her.Then she leaned forward, looking intently at Beth, studying her face asan artist might study that of the subject he would put on canvas.
A moment she sat intent, rigid, with her eyes fixed on Beth's face. Thenturning to her husband, she laid her hand upon his arm and spoke to himin a low tone.
He looked startled, surprised. Then he too looked at Beth with more thanpassing interest. He turned to his wife and talked with her. Then hearose and, offering his arm, led her from the room.
"Mrs. Laurens has become faint," he said. "If you will excuse us, MissWard."
"Miss Hanscom, escort them to the teachers' room," said Miss Ward. Theyounger teacher did as re
quested. The rest room was across the hall. Mr.Laurens found a chair for his wife.
"You are very foolish, Ermann," he said gently, "do give up thisfeeling. Control yourself, please do."
"Have I not up to this? I have kept everything to myself until now. Theresemblance was startling. She looks just like you and your sisters,Joe."
"Such resemblances often appear," he said, sitting down beside her.
"It might be--strange things happen, you know. I've always had a queerfeeling about coming here. I've had a premonition. You know how I felt.I have not been so eager for anything for years. She's such a dearlooking child, Joe, and just about the age that our girl is."
"Would have been," he corrected. "You know we decided over a year agothat we would give up hope of finding her. We'll think of her as dead.That will be a better way of looking at it."
"I try, but I can't. Something within me will not let me think of herbut living. Who knows, Joe? This might be. We might have been led here."
"I think it nonsense," was the reply. "No doubt the child's parents livehere. You saw that she was dressed well, and looked happy. She lookedlike a child of well-to-do parents."
"But Joe, you might inquire," she pleaded. No one could resist theentreaty of her eyes.
"I will, but make up your mind that the thing cannot be true. You knowhow you feel after a disappointment. I'll ask, but you must expectnothing. I'll not have you 'fagged.' Remember that you have me yet. Youmust brace up and be cheerful for my sake."
"I'll try, Joe. You'll ask?"
Miss Hanscom had gone into the class-room adjoining. Mr. Laurens went toher.
"Who was the little girl who failed in her recitation?" he asked.
"Tilly Jones. We always expect Tilly to do that. We never permit hername on the program when visitors are present. We always have the sameexperience with her. Your coming was unexpected."
He waved her suggested apologies away.
"And the little girl who sits in front of her?" Walking to the swingingdoors, he pushed them slightly open. "She's sitting there now. Who isshe?"
Miss Hanscom peeped into the room.
"That's Elizabeth Wells, or Beth, as we call her."
"Ah, yes. Her face attracted me. Does the family live here?"
Miss Hanscom really did not know, but she never was at a loss at givinginformation. She would not say, "I have been here but a few years and donot know all the people about here." Not to know was to argue herselfunknown. So she straightened her shoulders and set forth impressions asthough they were facts.
"The Wells family have lived here for a century. Their farm was one ofthe first cleared. It's about two miles out of town. Eliza Wells is thelast of the family, except this little girl who is her brother'sdaughter."
"If she was a sister's child, her name would not be Wells," thought MissHanscom to herself as she justified her last remark.
Mr. Laurens moved away. "You heard, Ermann?" he said to his wife who hadjoined them.
"Yes," she said dully, as though she had lost interest in everythingabout her. "Let us go to the car. I wish to go home."
"Yes, Ermann," he said. He escorted her, half leaning on his arm, intothe main hall. The girls in the freshman class were preparing fordismissal and were passing into the cloak room, which was a division ofthe main hallway.
Mrs. Laurens dropped her hand from her husband's and, erect andintensely interested, watched them. Suddenly, as Beth came near, shethrew out her arms and hugged the girl to her, kissing her on brow andcheeks.
"Dear little girl, love me a little for the sake of my baby who isgone."
"I do--I did from the first," said Beth.
"Ermann, dearest," remonstrated her husband, "you are making a scene.Come, the car is waiting."
She loosened her arms about Beth and, without another word or glance inthe direction of the cloak room, permitted her husband to escort her tothe car waiting below.
That Little Girl of Miss Eliza's: A Story for Young People Page 11
