"I could not, I say, help noticing that the girls displayed a want of
discipline."
"Yes; I noticed that with sorrow," said Beatrice, giving Hazel a look of
tender regret.
"And I thought if we could help you to impress upon the children more of
the spirit of that beautiful lesson in the Catechism--"
Miss Lambent drew herself up stiffly, closed her eyes, stretched out one
hand in a remarkably baggy glove, and recited loudly enough for the
girls to hear--
"`To submit myself to all my governors, teachers, spiritual pastors and
masters. To order myself lowly and reverently to all my betters.'
Would you object, Miss Thorne, to the girls all repeating that aloud?"
Hazel signed to the girls to stand, when there was a rush up like a
human wave, and in all pitches of voice the familiar portion of "My duty
towards my Neighbour" was repeated several times over after Miss Lambent
who waved her hands like a musical conductor, and gave peculiar cadences
to her voice as she went on over the sentences again and again, in happy
unconsciousness that Feelier Potts was saying, "Oh, Goody me! Oh, Goody
me!" in constant iteration, instead of the prescribed forms, and making
Ann Straggalls laugh.
"I think that will do," said Miss Lambent, smiling. "If we can make the
children thoroughly take to heart, and then digest mentally the beauty
of those orderly words, the discipline of the school will be greatly
improved.--Sit!"
The order coming from fresh lips, some of the girls sat down, while some
remained standing, and, just as Miss Lambent repeated her command with a
shrill intonation, Hazel made a sign with her hand, and every girl
resumed her place.
"Now, once more," cried Miss Lambent; "stand!"
The girls rose readily, and the lady who strongly objected to any
interference with the mistress, shook her head, and cried--
"Sit!"
The girls resumed their seats this time pretty well, and rose at the
word of command.
"There, you see. Miss Thorne, it is soon done. I think you will be
able to get them well in order in time. Oh, by-the-way, Beatrice, did
you say anything to Miss Thorne about punishing Potts?"
"No; I thought you meant to mention it. Will you do so now?"
"You will speak to her upon the subject, I will go and take the juvenile
class."
As she spoke, Rebecca went off to the lower end of the schoolroom, while
Beatrice _hemmed_ to clear her voice.
"My sister thinks that Ophelia Potts ought to be severely punished, and
held up as an example to the whole school, Miss Thorne. Of course you
have punished her?"
"No, I have not punished her, Miss Lambent; but I have talked to her a
great deal."
"Not punished her, Miss Thorne! Dear me, I am surprised. The girl was
most rude and impertinent on the inspection day. I really wonder that
you have not punished her severely. She sets a bad example to the whole
school."
At that very moment the young lady in question was behaving most
dramatically, copying every motion of Miss Lambent, who was
gesticulating and shaking her head a good deal while teaching the
juvenile class; but catching Hazel's eye, the girl bent at once over her
slate.
"Ophelia Potts."
"A most absurd name, Miss Thorne! Why could not they call her Jane or
Sarah?"
"Parents have curious fancies in the names they give their children,
ma'am," replied Hazel. "This girl is of a singular disposition, and I
cannot help thinking that punishment would harden her."
"But you saw how she behaved, Miss Thorne. Why do you say that?"
"The girl is of a very affectionate disposition, and I think I can win
her over by kindness. She is very clever, and one of my best pupils,
and I think in time she will be all I could desire."
"I must beg to differ from you. Miss Thorne," said Beatrice, shaking
her head. "I have known Ophelia Potts four years, and I am perfectly
sure that nothing but severe castigation will ever work a change in her.
But of course that is for you to decide. My sister and I could not
think of interfering. We only wish, as you are so young, to offer you a
few suggestions, and to be of whatever service we can."
"I am very grateful. Miss Lambent--"
"Miss Beatrice Lambent, if you please," said the lady in corrective
tones. "My sister is Miss Lambent."
"Miss Beatrice Lambent," said Hazel gravely; "and I shall always strive
to avail myself in every way of your and your sister's assistance."
"She is as deceitful as can be," said Beatrice spitefully, as they were
walking home. "That abominable humility makes me feel as if I could box
her ears, for it is all as false as false."
"Henry is perfectly stupid about her," replied Rebecca. "He thinks her
a prodigy; but mark my words, Beatrice, he'll find her out before long,
and bitterly repent not having sent her about her business at once."
"I can't imagine what Henry is thinking about," sighed Beatrice; "but he
will find out his mistake."
Somewhere about this time Hazel had dismissed the girls, and told
Feelier Potts to stop back, an order which that young lady obeyed for a
few moments and then made a rush for the door.
"Ophelia!"
The girl's hand was already on the latch, and in another moment she
would have darted through; but Hazel Thorne's quiet voice seemed to
affect her in a way that she could not understand, and letting her hand
fall to her side, she hesitated and turned.
"Come here, Ophelia."
The girl hung back for a moment, and then, as if drawn to the speaker,
she approached in a slow, half-sulky, defiant way, gazing sideways at
her teacher, and seeming ready to dart off at a word.
"She'd better not hit me," thought Feelier. "I won't never come no more
if she do. I'll soon let her know, see if I don't."
By this time she was close up to Hazel, who, instead of looking at her
in a mending way, smiled at the girl's awkward approach and suspicious
gaze.
"You think I am going to punish you, Ophelia, do you not?"
"Yes, teacher; Miss Lambent told you to."
"Miss Lambent said that you deserved punishment for behaving badly in
school, but I told her that there was no need, for I am going to ask you
to help me, Ophelia, and not give me more work to do. There are so many
girls, and if they are tiresome, my work grows very, very hard."
"The girls are very tiresome, please, teacher."
"Then why don't you help me in trying to keep them quiet? You do know
so much better."
The girl looked up at her with one eye, and a general aspect as if some
progenitor had been a magpie.
"I mean it, Ophelia. You are a quick, clever girl, and know so much
better. It grieves me when you will play tricks, and make my work so
hard."
"Please, teacher, may I go now? Mother wants me."
"You shall go directly, Ophelia; but I want you to promise me that you
will be a better girl."
"Please, teacher, mother leathers the boys if they don't get home in
time for dinner, and dinner must be ready now."
"You shall go directly, my child; but will you promise me?"
"If I don't get home to dinner, teacher, I shan't be 'lowed to come
'safternoon."
"Then you will not promise me, Ophelia?"
The girl gave a half-sulky, half-cunning look at the speaker, and then,
taking a weary nod of the head to mean permission, she darted away, and
the schoolroom door closed after her with a loud bang.