FOR HAPPIER DAYS
While Athol was fuming at Kilton Hall and trying to keep his promise to
his uncle to "hold his jaw," though it very nearly resulted in lockjaw,
the ferment at Leslie Manor grew.
The older girls had grown rebellious almost to a unit, and the entire
school was terror-stricken or hysterical, the inevitable outcome of a
discipline which had steadily grown more severe and arbitrary; a nagging
surveillance which only incited in the pupils a wild desire to do the
very things of which they were unjustly suspected and accused. They were
never trusted, their simplest, most innocent acts were misconstrued,
their word doubted, and, as in Beverly's case, Miss Woodhull had more
than once cruelly baited and insulted them.
Truly, "the years had wrought strangenesses in her," and a more
short-sighted policy than she had adopted for the past five it would be
hard to conceive.
Mrs. Bonnell and some of the teachers had been painfully alive to all
this for a long time. Two or three of the instructors had resigned and
sought positions elsewhere, unable to work in the unhappy atmosphere
which Miss Woodhull created.
Once Mrs. Bonnell had bearded the lioness in her den and striven to
remonstrate with her, which had drawn upon her devoted head such a storm
of resentment that she had then and there tendered her resignation also.
At that point Miss Woodhull, realizing how entirely dependent she was
upon Mrs. Bonnell's perfect management of Leslie Manor had actually
apologized and begged Mrs. Bonnell to remain. She excused her language
upon the score of excessive fatigue after so many years of unremitting
work. "Unremitting?" Mrs. Bonnell smiled but accepted the apology. Her
livelihood depended upon her own work, and she also loved the place and
had many friends in that part of the world. But the idea of Miss
Woodhull's "arduous work" was certainly amusing. Miss Woodhull never did
a thing (but criticise) from one day's end to the next. She had long
since given up all classes, and now merely presided as the autocrat of
the establishment, unloved by any, feared by many, disliked by all. If
Miss Stetson and Miss Baylis really did like her they also shared the
fear she inspired.
More than one upheaval had occurred in the course of the school's
existence, but had always been quickly hushed up, though vague rumors had
circulated throughout the community. During later years, however, more
than one girl had "been dismissed," so Miss Woodhull stated, "for
unbecoming conduct." The girls themselves told different stories. For the
past three years Dr. and Mrs. Kilton had been quietly trying to purchase
Leslie Manor through agents in Richmond, for a good bit of inside
information had come to them regarding the manner in which matters were
shaping there, and their pride in the community, and in Warren County,
shrank from some possible crisis which would bring upon it an unpleasant
notoriety.
In one sense the girls in Leslie Manor were well cared for. Their
physical and personal welfare were safe in Mrs. Bonnell's hands and the
instruction was thorough and excellent. But in the wise development of
character, in the trustful, happy confidence which girlhood should know,
in the harmony which is girlhood's right, or the harmless frolicing, and
healthful bodily development from spontaneous activities, they were sadly
lacking. Everything was cut and dried. All things ordered from Miss
Woodhull's austere standpoint. No wonder that the school harbored
"Pettys" and "Eleanors" and "Electras" and a few other oddities. Until
this year it had never sheltered a "Beverly," and this same Beverly was
likely to prove, though with no such intention upon her part, its
Waterloo.
And thus stood affairs that Sunday evening after Beverly's flight, and
then from a source least expected Bomb Number 1 was hurled.
All day long Electra Sanderson had been strangely silent. At eight
o'clock she marched down to Miss Woodhull's study, rapped upon the door,
and was bidden enter. That lady sat with her hand upon the telephone
receiver, about to remove it. She now fully realized that Admiral Seldon
must be communicated with at once. She must face the music this time. She
almost hailed Electra with joy as the source of a brief respite.
Electra crossed the room, rested one hand upon the corner of Miss
Woodhull's desk, plucked up her courage and plunged in head first:
"You scolded Beverly Ashby for receivin' a letter she didn't _get_. It
wasn't hers at all. It was Petty Gaylord's. I saw her receive it. I don't
want to tell tales, but I _wont_ have Beverly blamed for something she
never done--_did_. She's always been nice and polite to me and Petty aint
been. Eleanor Allen _stole_ that letter and brought it down here to you
just to get Beverly into trouble. I _saw_ her do it. She took it right
out of Beverly's history book. Petty dropped it in history class and
never knew what had become of it. The next morning Beverly came into our
room and told Petty that she had picked it up to return it to her but
when she opened her book to get it it was gone, but Petty wouldn't
believe her and said awful things to her till Beverly just looked at her
the way she _can_ look when she _despises_ people (well Miss Woodhull
knew that look) and went out of the room. But Eleanor had that letter all
the time, 'cause I saw her sneak into Beverly's room and snitch it. I
don't know what she wanted with it, but after I saw her take it I watched
her every single minute. I thought she would give it to Petty, of course,
they're so stuck on each other, but she didn't. She just kept and kept it
for some mucker trick, and when I saw her comin' down to your study last
night I knew just as well as anything what she was up to. She hates
Beverly just because she won't have anything to do with her and laughs at
Petty and her mash. Petty's just dead in love with that feller at
Annapolis. Now if you don't believe what I've told you you can just send
for both of them and ask them yourself. I don't care a cent what you do
for I'm going to leave this hateful school tomorrow and you can't stop
me. And I'll tell dad all about this fracas too. I hate you and
everything in the school--so there, now!" and with this final explosion
Eleanor turned and fled from the room. Erin Go Bra! If Eleanor's story
had not collapsed Miss Woodhull her English certainly would have
compassed that result. She fell back upon her chair panting. Just then
her phone rang: BOMB No. 2.
"No, Admiral Seldon, your niece is not here this evening. She is
temporarily absent. When do I expect her to return? Oh, er--I think by
tomorrow at latest. Is she where you can communicate with her by phone?
Oh, certainly, certainly. The number? Why, er, I must ascertain for you.
You must know immediately? You have heard alarming rumors? Ridiculous!
Your niece missing since last evening? Preposterous! Absurd! Yes, of
course, if you insist. And you will be over by the first train in the
morning? Really, you are over-solicitous. My pupils are well looked after
and cared for. You have reason to believe they are? Your tone hardly
bears out your statement. She must be here to receive you when you
arrive? Oh, certainly. _Very_ well. Good-by." The Empress came nearer
fainting after that conversation than she had ever come in all her life.
But such a nature as hers must have a vent for its spleen, and what
better ones than Eleanor and Petty, the cause of all the mischief? The
electric bell which summoned them to Miss Woodhull's study fairly
sputtered sparks. Eleanor was sulkily silent. Petty, as usual, in tears.
Tears were Petty's long suit.
We have not time to dwell upon the details of that interview even if we
would. Eleanor was one of the few girls to really be expelled from the
school, and Petty promptly fled to "darling mamma" and "Reggie."
Early Monday morning Admiral Seldon arrived upon the scene and was
closeted with the Empress for two solid hours. This time his guns were
_not_ silenced, and those passing the study door could hear a steady
rumble like heavy firing afar off, and in the intervals lighter shots, as
though a gatling gun were popping its stacatto fire. Ultimately the heavy
gun silenced the gatling. The last shot was something upon this order:
"Your methods, Madam, may prevail elsewhere, but permit me to say that
they are a dead failure here. You are not training cart horses, but
thoroughbreds, and you can't lash and spur _that_ breed. No, my niece
will _never_ return to Leslie Manor while it continues under its present
management, and the next time I select a school for her the character and
personality of its head will influence my choice far more than the
curriculum, or modern methods. We have managed in bygone days to produce
some pretty fine specimens of the true gentlewoman by the old methods in
vogue in this part of the United States, and I am hopeful that we may
produce a few more before the race dies out. Yes, I assuredly advise a
rest, Madam, and that you prolong it indefinitely. It will benefit you
immensely, I am sure--and also a great many others. I have the honor to
wish you good-morning. And you need feel no further concern regarding my
niece."
The following week the Easter recess began. During that recess Miss
Woodhull went to a famous Sanitarium in the state in order to "Restore
her over-taxed nerves." She did not know that the physician in charge was
one of Admiral Seldon's oldest friends. He strongly advised against
resuming her duties after the Easter recess, and urged her to discontinue
all work (?) for at least a year, and to seek an entire change of scene.
She followed his advice so far as change of scene was concerned, but her
idea of a complete rest was an immediate and very active affiliation with
her suffering sisters in a crusade for their "rights," and the overthrow
of the oppression of the sterner sex. She sailed for England, and once in
London became one of the most rampant of the wronged ones.
Meanwhile the school was being conducted by Miss Baylis, who for five
blissful weeks reigned supreme, while "hope" hinted a permanent one. But,
alas! nothing is so delusive as human hope. That city across the sea
settled Miss Baylis' plans, and Miss Woodhull's future. That lady had
found her true place among England's "gentlewomen"(?), though she had
utterly failed to do so among Virginia's. Over there she could chuck
books at the heads of dignified judges and glory in seeing the old
gentlemen dodge. She could heave her shoes at the Chancellor, and shout
and yell with her wronged sisters. She could smash windows, blow up
people's houses, arrange and cavort with the maddest of her feminine
friends, and give a glorious vent to all the long pent-up belligerence in
her makeup, to the everlasting humiliation, mortification, shame and
horror of the GENTLEWOMEN of her own land. Exit Miss Woodhull.
And her substitute? Her triumph was short lived. Leslie Manor was sold in
May. Agents in Richmond conducted the sale. No one knew the purchaser,
but during the following month workmen appeared as by magic and labored
like gnomes all day, and almost all night too. New buildings were
erected, all sorts of strange changes made in the old ones. The place
assumed huge proportions. What could it all mean?
In August the cat popped out of the bag. Dr. and Mrs. Kilton moved in. A
new and imposing sign appeared upon the handsome iron grill-work of the
entrance gate, the gold letters reading: "The Wilder-Kilton Co-Educational
Academy!" Wilder had been Mrs. Kilton's maiden name. Old Kilton Hall, long
since out-grown, became the home farm, and a sort of retreat for any
pupils who were ailing or in need of a complete rest. The school was to be
opened September thirtieth, under an entirely new auspices, and certainly
under very new conditions. It was a daring venture, a complete innovation,
but Dr. and Mrs. Kilton were sanguine of success. Whether their dreams
were realized or not must be told in "A Dixie Girl Co-Ed."
And down in Woodbine?
Well, three hilarious young people were nearly tearing the world to
tatters in their joy. In May Admiral Seldon had taken them to Washington
and Annapolis, where they had, sure enough, had the time of their lives.
Then, the sight-seeing fever increasing, Mrs. Ashby joined them in
Philadelphia, and away they went to New York, Niagara, and finally to
Europe, where the summer was spent in one round of ecstasy. And now
September was drawing to its close, and with the last day of that month
their eagerly-longed for co-ed days would begin.
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1. Bee and the Butterfly Lucy Foster Madison
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End of Project Gutenberg's A Dixie School Girl, by Gabrielle E. Jackson