CHAPTER XXV

TEACHERS

Mrs. Pangborn was not a woman to allow her pupils too much liberty--she

felt the very responsibility of a mother, and, following Jean’s

break-down, she at once started a personal investigation of the girl’s

doings on the morning when she came late into the classroom.

She found out that Jean had gone to the post-office. One of the

gardeners had seen her cross to where the fortune teller sat in the

woods. Then, someone else remembered that she had seen her run all the

way up the path. Mrs. Pangborn determined that this fortune teller

should be put out of the place, as she was plainly an evil influence.

Taking the simplest and most reasonable course first, the principal of

Glenwood found her way to the cabin of the alleged fortune teller.

Her dignity seemed offended, as she stepped into the ill-smelling

room. Madam Shebad was not so stupid as to think that she had, in the

white-haired woman, a customer, but, nevertheless, she was equal to

the occasion.

“I have come to complain,” began Mrs. Pangborn without preliminaries,

“about your receiving my pupils here for the purpose of telling

fortunes. Those young ladies are in my charge. I am responsible for

them to their parents, and if you again allow them to come here I shall

have to make known your business to the proper officials. I suppose you

know it is against the law.”

“I never told any fortunes to your girls,” said the woman. “I told them

the truth. If they would tell you the truth, they would bear me out.”

“I did not come to discuss your methods,” said the principal, “but just

to say to you that I will not allow my girls to visit this place----”

“But I would like to tell you,” interrupted the woman, “that I only

told those girls what I really knew. I did not tell any fortunes.”

Mrs. Pangborn stopped to realize what the woman meant. How could

she know, this stranger, such things as she had told those girls,

for, since the happening, bit by bit, information was coming to the

principal that aroused her suspicion. She had heard, for instance, that

the torn letter was mentioned to Jean Faval. Mrs. Pangborn had handled

that letter when it came to Jean, in the regular mail. A maid had

reported that she had seen a letter at Dorothy’s door, but, believing

it to be left there for some one, she had not carried it off in her

cleaning. That was how Tavia came to get it.

“Will you tell me who informed you of my pupils’ affairs?” Mrs.

Pangborn asked.

“No, I cannot do that,” replied the woman, “but you may know that some

one did tell me of them.”

Here was a new problem--some one had come to this woman, and told her

what to tell the girls! Who could it be, and what could have been their

motive in doing so?

“You see,” said the woman, “you have no charge against me. I did _not

tell any fortunes_!”

As she understood that this was why the woman had argued simply to

clear herself, Mrs. Pangborn left the place.

It would not be well, she decided, to make any inquiry just then,

as the girls had been through so many little troubles in the short

term. But she, of course, would have to have them guarded--especially

Jean, Zada and Tavia. She had no fear that Dorothy would do anything

dishonorable.

Entering the classroom, the greatly respected principal looked about

her. She saw Dorothy busy at her work, she saw Tavia bent over her

books, with one eye on them and the other roaming about.

The visit of the principal was always regarded as a matter of

importance. Now every pupil sat up straight, and took that opportunity

of resting her eyes from letters.

“I just want to say, young ladies,” began Mrs. Pangborn, “that I have

been surprised at the liberty some of you have taken, from this school.

I have never felt it necessary before to give out such positive orders.

I do not know who may be to blame, but I will not again excuse any

girl for such lax order and discipline, as might seem to her a fitting

reason for her to visit a common fortune teller!

“You must all know that there is no such thing as the possibility

of any human being telling of future events. If such a thing were

possible do you not see what a wonderful advantage it would be in the

world’s greatest happenings? I do not think I need go further into

this subject, other than to say that I positively forbid any member of

Glenwood Hall from going to any fortune teller. If I find that any girl

has disobeyed this rule I shall be obliged to dismiss her.”

A dead silence followed these few words. Tavia’s eyes only might be

seen to show a glow of satisfaction. And yet Tavia had under her

mattress a letter with this Madam Shebad’s name on the corner!

And no one had yet found out where Tavia and Edna had been when Tavia

sprained her ankle.

Dorothy’s eyes glowed nervously. Zada looked directly out of the

window, and, as she bit her lips, Mrs. Pangborn wondered why she should

seem so strained. Edna settled all her movements on Tavia, and if the

teachers had called a fire drill, likely Edna would have asked Tavia

what to do before she did anything.

Jean was still suffering from her collapse, and was not in the

classroom.

It was a beautiful autumn day, and when she had given her positive

instructions, Mrs. Pangborn thought it might be as well for her classes

to go out into the woods, for the last of the season’s nature work, as

to remain in the room struggling with technicalities.

Miss Cummings, Miss Hays and Miss Boylan were told to take the classes

to the woods. They were to bring back specimens of the dogwood, the

late flowers of the underbrush, and such varieties of outdoor life as

make the Autumn famous.

Dorothy was with Zada, Tavia of course was with Edna, and Cologne was

so close to Molly Richards that one could scarcely tell whose sleeves

were blue or whose white.

“Does any young lady know where to find iron-weed?” asked Miss

Cummings, who was leading the party.

Iron-weed was as common in Glenwood as the grass itself, and therefore

every girl wanted to go for it in a different direction. Finally it

was agreed that the swamp, near the station, might furnish the best

specimens.

Cecilia Reynolds and Hazel Mason rushed on ahead, without any regard to

the teacher’s talk, as she tried to instruct the class on varieties of

vegetation, and its relation to humanity.

Reaching the swamp, all sorts of nature “weeds” were discovered. The

girls, glad to be entirely free from the schoolroom for that beautiful

day, set to digging up roots and bulbs, hunting out frogs and snails,

and doing all the absurd things that students usually do when allowed a

day in the woods.

“Isn’t it too bad Jean could not be with us,” said Cecilia to Hazel.

“Yes,” replied Hazel rather doubtfully. “But what makes Jean so bitter

toward the Glens? I think the best girls are in the older club.”

“Then why don’t you go with them,” replied Cecilia sarcastically.

“I would if I were eligible. I think Rose,--Mary and Dorothy the very

nicest girls in the school,” said Hazel, just as Molly Richards found a

little red lizard, not more than an inch long, and just cute enough for

a stick pin.

The lizard was placed upon a flat stone and was, for the time being,

the centre of all attraction. So beautifully red, so small, so

perfect, and just like a pattern for an alligator!

“It must not be killed,” said Miss Cummings. “We will put it in our

aquarium.”

“I’ll take it,” offered Tavia, for whom a bug, that could crawl, creep

or fly, had no terrors.

“Thank you,” said Miss Cummings frigidly, “but I prefer to take care of

it myself.”

With this she took the tiny terra-cotta crawler on a bit of paper, and

carefully placed it in her handbag.

Fearful that the insect might die the teacher did not close the bag.

Have you ever seen a lizard in the woods in Autumn? Do you think you

could keep one in an open handbag?

The woods were explored to the satisfaction of the teachers, and the

delight of their pupils. Then they all started for the Hall.

At a little spring house, a shed built over a crystal spring, they

stopped for a drink. Tavia, of course dipped her very nose in the

water; and those who did not intend to do likewise did so without

intending.

But how beautiful that little strip of woodland road was! No wonder

teachers and pupils lingered.

Just at the old water-wheel, every one stopped again. Falling leaves

made the spot a painting, and Miss Cummings undertook to explain what

the wheel had been, and what its ruins meant.

Suddenly she squirmed. Dorothy was nearest her and asked if she could

help her.

“It’s the lizard!” the instructor declared. “He has gotten out of my

bag and is just now crawling up my arm, inside my sleeve to my collar

bone!”

“Mercy!” exclaimed Dorothy instinctively! “Do you suppose we can catch

him?”

“If you do not,” said Miss Cummings, “I shall have a spasm of nerves. I

have heard of fleas, but a lizard----!”

Her remarks were cut short by the necessity for tracing the progress of

the reptile. He was just under her left arm now.

“We will have to take your waist off,” said Tavia, overjoyed at the

prospect.

“Do it quickly,” begged the teacher. “The thing is eating my cuticle.”

“Which part is that?” asked Tavia, as if she didn’t know.

They sat the teacher on a tree stump, and it did seem as if more girls

wanted to help get that lizard than could possibly handle just one

woman.

“Here it is!” shouted Cologne, grabbing something small and soft.

Miss Cummings was now almost hysterical.

“It’s worse than a mouse,” muttered Zada.

“Much worse,” sobbed the afflicted one.

“Did you get it, Cologne?” asked Dorothy.

“No, that was a sachet bag. I thought I had it though,” Cologne

answered.

“Here!” yelled Tavia, as she held out, on the palm of her hand, the

pretty little red lizard.

“_You_ may bring it back to the aquarium,” said Miss Cummings calmly,

as the three girls tried to hook up her waist.

Dorothy Dale's School Rivals · 第 25 / 31 章