A LOST OPPORTUNITY
The class-room was very hot and a ray of dazzling sunshine quivered upon
the diagrams on the yellow wall. An electric fan hummed monotonously and
buzzing flies hovered about Agatha's head. Her face and hands were damp
as she stood with knitted brows beside a tall blackboard, looking at the
drowsy girls whom she was teaching inorganic chemistry. One or two fixed
their eyes on the symbols she had written; the rest had obviously given
up the effort to understand the complicated formula. In fact, they did
not seem to notice that she had stopped her lecture.
For a few moments she looked about and mused. With one or two
exceptions, she liked her pupils, and had led them patiently along the
uphill road to knowledge. They had made some progress, but she had lost
her delight in leading. For one thing, few would go far, and when they
left her the rest would turn aside from the laborious pursuit of science
into pleasant human paths and forget all that she had taught while they
occupied themselves with the care of husband and children. Moreover, she
herself could not follow the climbing road to the heights where the
light of knowledge burns brightest, as she once had hoped. When the
school term was finished she must turn back and begin again, at the
bottom, to direct the faltering steps of another band. But she
sometimes wondered whether the beckoning light was not austere and cold.
She glanced at her dress. It was a neutral color and like a uniform.
After all, she had physical charm and it was sometimes irksome to wear
unbecoming clothes. Then the lofty room, with its varnished desks and
benches, looked bleak; her life was passed in bare class-rooms and
echoing stone corridors. This would not have mattered had she been able
to follow her bent and take the line she had once marked out; but she
could not. She must give up the thought of independent research and
teach for a living, cramping her talents to meet her pupils'
intelligence, until, in time, she sank to their level.
She roused herself with an effort and mechanically resumed her lecture,
for her wandering thoughts now dwelt upon the foaming rivers and cool
forests of the North. The class-rooms smelt of varnish and throbbed with
the monotonous rattle of the fan; in the wilds one breathed the resinous
fragrance of the pines and heard the splash of running water. For all
that, she must not shirk her duty and she tried to make the meaning of
the symbols on the board plainer to the languid girls.
By and by she remarked that they were more alert. Some were making
notes, and one or two looked past her with frank curiosity. The door was
behind the board, and Agatha had heard nobody come in, but when she
looked round she saw a gray-haired gentleman standing near the lady
principal. He seemed to be listening to what she said and she thought
his eyes twinkled as if he understood the difficulty of rousing her
pupils' interest. This was somewhat embarrassing; but the school was
famous and visitors were now and then shown round.
She paused, and the stranger turned to the principal. "If you will allow
me--"
The principal smiled and he came up to Agatha, holding out his hand for
the chalk.
"Suppose we alter the formula this way?" he said and wiped out the
letters and figures.
Agatha studied him as he wrote fresh symbols. He was plainly dressed and
about sixty years of age. There was nothing else worth noting, but he
obviously knew his subject and she liked his face. She saw that the
girls could follow his explanation, but while suited to their
understanding, it was, in one respect, not quite accurate.
"I don't know if I've made it much plainer," he said deprecatingly when
he stopped.
Agatha indicated a group of letters. "It is plainer, thank you! But does
the combination of the two elements take place exactly as you have
shown? At a normal temperature, the metal's affinity for oxygen--"
"Ah," he said, "you know that? It looks as if you had studied the new
Austrian theory. But perhaps one may make a small concession, for the
sake of clearness."
"Science is exact," Agatha replied.
"It's a bold claim for us to make," he rejoined, smiling. "Our symbols
are guess measures; our elements split up into two or three. But I
gather that you refuse to compromise about what, in the meantime, we
think is the truth?"
"I think one must adhere to it, as far as one knows."
"Well, no doubt, that is the proper line. But I've stopped your lecture
and perhaps bored your pupils."
"No," said Agatha. "You have helped me over awkward ground, and I expect
they would sooner listen to a stranger."
He went away with the principal, and Agatha wondered about him as she
resumed her task. It was plain that he knew something about science, but
this was not strange, since geologists and chemists sometimes visited
the school. After she dismissed her class the principal sent for her.
"I suppose you don't know who that man is?" she asked.
Agatha admitted that she did not know and colored when the other told
her. The man was a famous scientist who had recently simplified the
smelting of some refractory British Columbian ores, and was now
understood to be occupied with the problem of utilizing certain barren
alkali belts in the West.
"Oh!" she said, "I talked to him as if he were one of the girls. In
fact, I believe I was gently patronizing."
"I don't think he was much hurt."
"Then he must have been amused and that is nearly as bad. After he had
gone I imagined I'd seen his portrait somewhere."
"He hasn't gone yet," the principal answered with a twinkle. "He's
waiting to see you in the managers' room, and I must confess to
something of a plot when I brought him in quietly to hear your lecture."
"But what does he want?" Agatha asked with excited curiosity.
"I imagine he wants to offer you a post, but he will tell you about
this. You have half an hour before the next class."
Agatha went out, trying to preserve her calm. The man had made his mark
by the application of science to industry and the thought that she might
help him gave her a thrill. This was different work from teaching
beginners; taking them so far and then going over the ground again. If
she got the post, she could go on, farther perhaps than she had hoped,
and when she had learned enough embark on a career of independent
research. She thought she had the necessary tenacity and brains. There
was an obstacle, but she would not hurry to meet it and it might be
removed.
When she entered the room the man got up and indicated a chair. He asked
a few questions, rather carelessly, and afterwards remarked: "Miss
Southern had already told me what I most wanted to know. You may have
heard about the work in which I am engaged."
"Yes," said Agatha, with a touch of color, "I know what it is now."
He smiled. "Perhaps it would have been better had I asked Miss Southern
to present me, but I'm not very formal. Well, I was asked by the
Provincial Government and the railroad to find the best way of
developing the alkali wastes, and the subject is extraordinarily
interesting. If I can solve the problem, it will make important changes
in our irrigation system and enable us to cultivate wide belts of barren
soil. However, I must have help and want a lady who can take the charge
of my correspondence with scientific people and assist in my
experiments. After talking to Miss Southern, I feel I can offer you the
post."
Agatha thrilled, but used some self-control.
"But you might not need me long, and I must give up the school."
He smiled. "If you wished to resume teaching, I daresay your having
helped in my investigations would be an advantage."
"Then do you expect me to help much in that way?" Agatha asked with
growing excitement.
"Yes; as far as you are able. I am told that you are used to laboratory
work. Would this suit you?"
Agatha's eyes sparkled. "It would realize my pet ambition."
"Very well. We had better talk about the salary. My notion is--"
Agatha thought the offer generous. She would be richer than she had been
yet and there was an object for which she needed money. She felt
flattered and almost overjoyed. The work she was asked to do might start
her well on the road she had long wished to take.
"There is another matter," the man resumed when she declared that she
was satisfied. "It will be necessary for you to come to Europe. My wife
will take care of you."
"Then you are going to Europe?" Agatha said with a curious sinking of
her heart.
"Yes. I must consult an eminent Frenchman and two or three Austrians.
They have studied some of the problems I am up against."
"When do you start?" Agatha asked with forced quietness.
"In about three weeks, if I can get ready."
Agatha tried to brace herself. The disappointment was hard to bear, and
for a few moments she engaged in a bitter struggle. If she took the post
and went to Europe, she could not go North for a year, and Thirlwell
might not be able to help her then. She knew that she had counted on his
help, and that without it she could not penetrate far into the wilds.
Indeed, it was possible that she could not start at all.
Yet, if she went North, she must refuse an alluring offer and throw away
an opportunity for making her mark. Her ambition must be abandoned, and
if she failed to find the silver, she would have to resume her
monotonous duties at the school. She was beginning to find them
strangely dreary. Then George had warned her against sacrificing her
youth, and perhaps all her life, to the pursuit of a shadow. Her friends
did not believe in the silver, and she doubted if she could find the
vein. Failure might leave her sour and the hardships break her health;
she would come back with her savings exhausted to toil and deny herself
again. Yet the lode was waiting to be found somewhere in the North, and
the duty she had accepted long since must come first.
"Then I'm sorry I cannot go," she said with an effort.
The man looked surprised. "The voyage is short and comfortable if one
travels by a big, fast boat. I expect to work hard, but you would have
some leisure and opportunities for seeing famous pictures, statues, and
laboratories. Then you would meet eminent chemists and learn something
from their talk. In fact, the visit ought to be of help in many ways,
and, if you afterwards left my employment, make it easy for you to get
another post."
Agatha struggled for calm. He had rather understated than exaggerated
the reasons why she ought to go. Then Toronto and Montreal were the only
cities she knew, and she was offered a chance of seeing some of the
capitals of Europe, with their treasures of art, and meeting men who had
made famous scientific discoveries. It would help her more than many
certificates if later on she resumed her work of teaching.
"Ah," she said in a strained voice, "please don't try to show me all
that I shall miss! I want to go so very much, but it's impossible. If I
went, I should neglect a duty that has a stronger claim."
He bowed. "Then, although I'm sorry, there's nothing to be said. Would
it be an impertinence if I asked about the duty?"
Agatha was silent for a moment or two. Her refusal had cost her much;
indeed, she was afraid to think what she had lost and felt she must do
something to banish the crushing sense of disappointment.
"No," she said impulsively; "I cannot resent anything you ask. I must
start North soon to look for a vein of ore my father told me about, I'm
forced to make the search, but it would be a long story if I told you
why." She hesitated and then went on: "I wonder whether you would look
at this analysis and tell me what you think--I mean if you think there
is ore of that kind on the Northern slope of the Ontario watershed."
He took the paper she had long carried about and studied it for a time.
Then he said: "It is not the ore a practical miner would expect to
strike, but practical miners are sometimes deceived. As a rule, they
know more about shafts and adits than scientific geology."
"Would _you_ expect to find the ore where I have told you?"
"Well," he said thoughtfully, "the Laurentian rocks are very old, and
our miners have so far dealt with newer formations. On the whole, I
think it possible that ore like this has been forced up from unusual
depths."
"But would the silver be easily refined?"
He smiled. "There would be no trouble about its reduction. If you can
locate the vein, you will be rich."
Agatha thanked him and went out, feeling somewhat comforted. She had
given up much, but she saw a ray of light in the gloom ahead. The way
she had chosen was difficult, but after all it was the right way, and,
if she were resolute, might lead to success. Then she remembered with a
strange satisfaction that for a time she need not walk alone: Thirlwell
would be her guide when she plunged into the trackless wilds and she
knew that one could trust him.