That Little Girl of Miss Eliza's Part 10

"We could kill them, couldn't we?" asked Beth.

"We'll not risk it," said Eliza. "Just stay away. Then I'll feel sure that you are on the safe side."

It was barely eight o'clock when Eliza and her charge entered the school building. Miss Harmon had charge of the B grammar grade. Providence was being good to Beth when she put her in this woman's charge. She was a fine teacher. Her school-room held more than books. Children were built up, strengthened and made happy. She believed firmly that one can be happy only by being of some use in the world. She considered it sinful to be depressed and blue; for such an att.i.tude of mind showed lack of faith in G.o.d. She had a part in every good work in town. She knew every one and had a kindly word of greeting for each one, from drunken, worthless Jerry Hennesey to the Judge who stood as a beacon light of morality and high thinking.

"And Beth is to be with me this year?" she said after greeting her visitors. "I am glad of that. We'll have a lovely time."

"I shall miss her," said Eliza. "I've been teaching her up to this time.

Of course I had to do some studying, but I enjoyed it. I'm sorry to give it up."

"Why give it up? Why not continue as you have begun?"

"It would be useless. Two years more and she'll take up Latin and Algebra. I've never had them. I know nothing of Botany. I know the wild flowers here about, but nothing about the science."

"You know the finest part if you know the flowers," was the reply. "What matters it if Beth begins Latin! If you keep side by side with her, could you not begin too?"

"I'm too old. Why, Miss Harmon, I'm thirty-"

"Don't, please. I don't wish to know. Years are not counted any more.

Why, you and I are babies yet with a lot of glorious things to learn.

Mind is not subject to years. It can keep working as long as there is a body to hold it."

This was a new idea to Eliza. Somewhere hidden in her brain had been this same thought; but she had pushed it back from the light. It had been so different from what every one else thought, that she had believed it must be wrong. She listened to Miss Harmon talk along this same line. She had little to say; but she did a great deal of thinking.

"Youth can always dwell in the heart and the mind. We can find joy in living, spontaneity in action, and delight in study as long as we live."

She paused and then laughed softly while a flush stole over her cheeks.

"I am going to be personal, Miss Wells, just to prove to you that I know what I'm talking about. I'm ten years older than you-you have been thinking all the while that I'm much younger. Do you know why? I have never let myself think I was too old to learn anything. I've kept my mind and muscles flexible and they cannot get stiff."

"I know you are right," said Eliza at last. "I used to think a good deal on that line, but I never could talk of it to any one. It seemed as though no one thought as I did. They always acted as though I was just a little peculiar."

"They called Galileo crazy; Plato was sneered at because he taught the immortality of the soul when every one else believed something else. We can't depend upon our friends for some things. Each one of us must be a Columbus and discover for himself the unfathomed country of his own soul. There is no knowing how big and glorious a possession we may have."

The gong sounded here and the children came trooping in. Miss Eliza arose to leave. The teacher came with her to the door.

"You will come again and see how Beth is getting along? Don't give up your studies. You'll regret it if you do. Some time when I have leisure I would like to talk with you about our Club. I know you would be interested and would like to join."

Eliza went her way. Already the horizon had broadened. A Columbus to her own soul! She grasped what that might mean. No one could tell her own possibilities, her own capabilities, until she cast aside prejudice, servitude to customs which were accepted only because they had been in existence for centuries, and started forth to express the sweetness and strength of her own life.

Eliza hurried along with buoyant step. Her feet were light and her hopes high. Her white dress had been mended, but it was the perfection of daintiness. She was good to look at as she went her way, a graceful, gracious, smiling woman.

"Slow up, or there'll be a head-on collision," cried a merry voice. "I declare I'm always 'flagging' people to prevent a wreck."

Eliza brought herself to a sudden stop. Doctor Dullmer, smiling and gracious, stood before her.

"I beg your pardon, I didn't see you. I was preoccupied," she stammered.

"I believe you. Thoughts in the clouds and heels on the pavements. But I'm not surprised. That's the way I'm being treated these days.

Handsome, attractive young women don't care to notice a fat, seedy old doctor."

Eliza laughed at his jest. "It doesn't matter though how I'm treated.

I'll not forsake my friends. To prove it, I'll walk down to the crossroads with you. It is unseemly that a young girl like you should be roaming the streets alone at this hour." His expression was quite grave and his voice as serious as though he were diagnosing a case.

Doctor Dullmer had a thousand subjects to talk upon. He flitted like a bee from one to another, taking out a bit of honey everywhere. When they came to the corner of Champlain Avenue and Sixth Street, which was the beginning of the State Road, Doctor Dullmer pointed across the river to where the base of the mountains spread out into a broad level plain, fully a hundred yards higher than the valley in which Farwell lay. The view from this elevation must have been magnificent, for it extended so that the river swept about it and one could see for miles east and west.

Every little village was in sight, and beyond lay the magnificent heights of the Alleghanies.

"Notice those workmen over there. That means something. That means that we are going to be society. Next summer we take to swallow-tailed coats and low-cut vests. We are getting on. We will have a summer hotel there, and the fashionables will come and tell us what beautiful mountains we have. As though we didn't know that the instant we were able to peep from beneath our perambulator blankets to look at them."

He turned to gaze quizzically at Eliza.

"You'll have to do like the rest of them. You'll be cutting off the collar of your frock and putting a tail to your skirt. That's the fashionable caper for women, they tell me-. Here's my turning-off place." He was gone before Eliza could speak.

She stood a moment looking at the swarm of workmen excavating. She had heard rumors of a summer hotel being built. It was really true then!

She smiled as she recalled the doctor's words about evening gowns and trains. How ridiculous!

Very strange things happen. Before many years had pa.s.sed, Eliza was really trailing after her a robe of-. But this is antic.i.p.ating. Why speak of it now, when she herself never suspected all the strange occurrences which would follow from the hotel's bringing its influx of guests.

CHAPTER X.

Before the year had pa.s.sed, Beth had learned many things which were not in books. The first was that school and clothes cost money. She gave no hint to Adee that she had grown wise in this respect. What was the use of discussing matters and worrying oneself when no good could come of it? She could keep her eyes open and look about her, to see in what way she could help her foster-mother. She saw, for the first time, a great deal. Adee's shoes were patched and her gloves shiny. Having her eyes opened, Beth saw a great deal. At the first opening of spring, she had had new shoes and a new school-dress. The walk was hard on footwear. A pair of shoes had lasted her but a month.

She looked at her new shoes and decided that they must last her until the last of summer. Thereafter when she set out for school, she slipped around to the front stoop, and when she set forth again, she had a bundle under her arm. A month pa.s.sed. Beth had come home from school.

Adee had met her at the foot of the slope. By some strange chance, Adee's eyes fell upon the shoes the little girl was wearing.

"It's wonderful how your shoes are lasting. They are not even scuffed and you have worn them five weeks. That has been about as long as a pair lasts you."

"Yes," said Beth. Her face grew crimson, and she turned her eyes away that she might not meet Adee's glance.

"Did you bring home a library book?" asked Eliza, reaching forth for the books under Beth's arm. "I hope it is something worth while. We can read it aloud." For the first time, she saw the other bundle under Beth's arm.

"What is it, Beth?" she asked.

Beth burst into tears. Then with a sudden impulse she opened the bundle and forced it into Eliza's hands. It was nothing at all formidable-nothing to shed tears over.

"Your old shoes! What are you crying about them for, and what ever possessed you to carry them with you? Were they too valuable to leave at home?"

"I'm crying because I didn't wish you to know about it, and now you've found out." Beth dried her tears. "I saw how many shoes I was wearing out, and that I always had new ones and you had old patched ones. I thought I'd save. I put on these old ones when I get out of sight of the house and just at the edge of town I put on the good ones again. I've always looked nice in school, Adee, and I didn't wear out the good shoes on the rough road."

"It's all right," said Adee. "But what did you do with your old shoes while you were in school? I do hope you did not set them up on your desk as a decoration."

Beth knew her own Adee, and accepted this remark as a humorous sort of pleasantry. She laughed, "You know I did not. I hid them under an old log alongside the road. You're not vexed, Adee?"

Eliza put her arm around the child and drew her close to her as they walked up the hill. "No, I think I'm pleased. Indeed, I am quite sure I am. I'm glad that you think of some one else. But don't worry about your shoes, I want you to look well in school. If you stand well in your cla.s.s, and behave yourself nicely, I shall be satisfied. Somehow, I think this is all a little girl need do."