"You amaze me, ladies."
Farther up the street on the other side, but within sight of the
Whittredges', was Mrs. Graham's Boarding and Day School for Young Ladies.
The broad, one story and a half mansion, with rooms enough for a small
hotel, was still known as the Bishop place, although nearly twenty years
had passed since the little brown and white house on Church Street had
opened its doors to Miss Betty and her invalid father, and to such of the
massive furniture as could be accommodated within its walls. In her
circular Mrs. Graham was careful to state that her school was commodiously
housed in the mansion of the late distinguished Senator Charlton H.
Bishop, and many a daughter groaned over her algebra or French verbs in
the very room where her mother or grandmother before her had fleeted the
time carelessly in evenings long past, for brilliant was the tradition of
the Bishop hospitality.
Celia Fair, who taught drawing in the school, and on occasion kept study
hour in what had once been the long drawing-room, had a fancy that the
spirit of those days was responsible for many an outburst of mischief. At
present Mrs. Graham's pupils were in a fever of curiosity over the new
arrival at the Whittredges'.
The Whittredge place had been invested by them with something of a halo of
romance, founded chiefly on the seclusion In which it pleased Mrs.
Whittredge to live. Bits of gossip let fall by their elders were eagerly
treasured; it became the fashion, to rave over the beauty of the haughty
Miss Genevieve, and even her brother who was not haughty, but quite like
other people, was allowed a share of the halo on account of his connection
with the lost ring, made famous by the contested will.
Katherine Roberts, returning to school after several days' absence, found
herself unusually popular. Katherine lived next door to the unknown; she
had seen her; it was even said she had heard her speak. Excitement grew
as the news spread.
The girls were standing in groups on the porch and steps, laughing and
talking together, and at sight of Katherine gave her an uproarious
greeting.
Round, rosy-faced, blue-eyed Katherine, with her brown hair in two tight
plaits turned under and tied with a ribbon behind her ears, was a little
abashed at the attention she excited.
"What is she like, Katherine? tell us--the new girl at the Whittredges'."
"She is standing at the gate now," answered Katherine, looking over her
shoulder.
"Is she? Oh, where?"
"Let's walk by and see her."
"We'll be tardy if we do, and at any rate there is the carriage; perhaps
they will drive past."
"Look! there's Miss Genevieve. No, they are going the other way."
"What are you staring at?" demanded Belle Parton, joining the group. Belle
was a gypsy-looking girl with merry black eyes, and hair that refused to
be smooth like Katherine's, but continually fell in her eyes. As she spoke
she put her hat on the step and proceeded to adjust the round comb she
wore.
"The Whittredge girl. Have you seen her, Belle?" asked Charlotte Ellis.
"No; what is she like?"
"Katherine is the only one who has seen her; she says she is lovely."
"Oh, she is! You ought to see her, Belle. Maurice and I peeped through the
hedge and saw her walking to and fro studying something. And her name is
Rosalind. Isn't that a beautiful name?"
"I don't believe she is much," Belle announced, with a turn of her head.
The only reason she had for saying this was the naughty one of wishing to
snub Katherine, who took everything in earnest and now looked crestfallen.
"Never mind, Kit; tell us some more about her," urged one of the others.
"Grandmamma says she is surprised at Mrs. Whittredge's having her here.
You know she would have nothing to do with her son after he married, until
lately, and she never saw her granddaughter before, I think family
quarrels are awfully interesting; don't you?" As Charlotte spoke, the
bell rang, and the girls turned toward the house.
"Do you, Charlotte?" exclaimed Katherine, who was accustomed to pin her
faith to her friend's opinions, but thought that quarrels being wrong
could not be interesting.
"I think so, too. They are so delightfully mysterious," echoed another of
the girls.
"Nonsense! What is there that is mysterious?" put in pugnacious Belle.
It may have been the alluring summer day, or the fact that it was near the
end of the term, and discipline had relaxed, but certain it was that a
general restlessness and inclination to whisper pervaded the study hour.
It was the fashion among the girls to adore Celia. Fair, and usually she
had no difficulty in keeping order, but this morning even her presence was
without effect.
Belle Parton had her history propped up before her in a way that suggested
some mischief going on behind its shelter, rather than any serious study.
Katherine, who was honestly trying to study, was distracted by the signals
flying around her. Charlotte Ellis, whose seat was near the window,
seemed principally occupied in peeping between the sash curtains.
Celia had looked up for the second time to say, "Girls, I must have better
order," and things had for several minutes quieted down, when Charlotte
suddenly announced in a loud whisper, "Here they come!" and with that
there was a rush for the windows.
The cause of the excitement was of course the Whittredge carriage, but all
anybody caught was a fleeting glimpse of a white dress beside Miss
Genevieve's black one, and, as luck would have it, Mrs. Graham opened the
door just in time to witness the scramble for a view.
"Young ladies, you amaze me! What is the meaning of this?" she demanded,
as the girls, half of whom had rushed because the others had, returned
abashed to their seats.
"I never knew them to behave so before," said Celia, in apology.
"Something seems to be wrong to-day."
"Wrong, indeed," repeated Mrs. Graham, who was a person of somewhat
majestic appearance. Then her glance fell on Belle's desk. "And this
explains the rapid disappearance of my chalk!" she added, holding up to
view a pen tray on which were arranged a number of tiny goblets and dishes
neatly cut out of chalk.
Katherine, who had not left her seat, laughed nervously. She stood in
great awe of the principal, and she did not in the least wish to laugh.
Mrs. Graham looked at her sternly, "One mark in deportment, Katherine, and
three to those who left their desks, and you will all spend your recess
indoors. Belle, I will see you in the office."
Belle followed Mrs. Graham, with her head held high, her lips pursed up
saucily, her black eyes snapping. Katherine, through her own tear-filled
ones, watched her in astonishment.
When Belle returned study hour was over, and the culprits who were
condemned to stay indoors had grouped themselves beside the window.
"What did she do to you, Belle?" they cried.
"Nothing,--just talked. She said it was wasting time and chalk, and that
it wasn't honest. Such a fuss about a little chalk!"
Celia Fair, who had her hat on, ready to go home, came behind Belle, and
with a hand on either side of her face she lifted it till the saucy eyes
looked into her own. "Does that make any difference, really--because it is
just chalk?" she asked.
Belle wriggled out of her hands, only to clasp her around the waist. "I
wouldn't take your chalk," she said, laughing.
"I don't know what to think of you to-day," Miss Fair continued, looking
around the group. "I am afraid Mrs. Graham will not trust me to keep study
hour after this."