"We are now ready to wote fer the teacher fer William Penn fer the
spring term," announced the president of the Board, when all the
preliminary business of the meeting had been disposed of; "and before
we perceed to that dooty, we will be glad to hear any remarks."
The members looked at Mr. Getz, and he promptly rose to his feet to
make the speech which all were expecting from him--the speech which was
to sum up the reasons why his daughter should not be reelected for
another term to William Penn. As all these reasons had been expounded
many times over in the past few months, to each individual school
director, Mr. Getz's statements to-night were to be merely a more
forcible repetition of his previous arguments.
But scarcely had he cleared his throat to begin, when there was a knock
on the door; it opened, and, to their amazement, Tillie walked into the
room. Her eyes sparkling, her face flushed, her head erect, she came
straight across the room to the table about which the six educational
potentates were gathered.
That she had come to plead her own cause, to beg to be retained at her
post, was obviously the object of this intrusion upon the sacred
privacy of their weighty proceedings.
Had that, in very truth, been her purpose in coming to them, she would
have found little encouragement in the countenances before her. Every
one of them seemed to stiffen into grim disapproval of her unfilial act
in thus publicly opposing her parent.
But there was something in the girl's presence as she stood before
them, some potent spell in her fresh girlish beauty, and in the
dauntless spirit which shone in her eyes, that checked the words of
stern reproof as they sprang to the lips of her judges.
"John Kettering,"--her clear, soft voice addressed the Amish president
of the Board, adhering, in her use of his first name, to the mode of
address of all the "plain" sects of the county,--"have I your
permission to speak to the Board?"
"It wouldn't be no use." The president frowned and shook his head. "The
wotes of this here Board can't be influenced. There's no use your
wastin' any talk on us. We're here to do our dooty by the risin'
generation." Mr. Kettering, in his character of educator, was very fond
of talking about "the rising generation." "And," he added, "what's
right's right."
"As your teacher at William Penn, I have a statement to make to the
Board," Tillie quietly persisted. "It will take me but a minute. I am
not here to try to influence the vote you are about to take."
"If you ain't here to influence our wotes, what are you here fer?"
"That's what I ask your permission to tell the Board."
"Well," John Kettering reluctantly conceded, "I'll give you two
minutes, then. Go on. But you needn't try to get us to wote any way but
the way our conscience leads us to."
Tillie's eyes swept the faces before her, from the stern, set features
of her father on her left, to the mild-faced, long-haired,
hooks-and-eyes Amishman on her right. The room grew perfectly still as
they stared at her in expectant curiosity; for her air and manner did
not suggest the humble suppliant for their continued favor,--rather a
self-confidence that instinctively excited their stubborn opposition.
"She'll see oncet if she kin do with us what she wants," was the
thought in the minds of most of them.
"I am here," Tillie spoke deliberately and distinctly, "to tender my
resignation."
There was dead silence.
"I regret that I could not give you a month's notice, according to the
terms of my agreement with you. But I could not foresee the great good
fortune that was about to befall me."
Not a man stirred, but an ugly look of malicious chagrin appeared upon
the face of Nathaniel Puntz. Was he foiled in his anticipated revenge
upon the girl who had "turned down" his Absalom? Mr. Getz sat stiff and
motionless, his eyes fixed upon Tillie.
"I resign my position at William Penn," Tillie repeated, "TO GO TO
EUROPE FOR FOUR MONTHS' TRAVEL with Miss Margaret."
Again she swept them with her eyes. Her father's face was apoplectic;
he was leaning forward, trying to speak, but he was too choked for
utterance. Nathaniel Puntz looked as though a wet sponge had been
dashed upon his sleek countenance. The other directors stared,
dumfounded. This case had no precedent in their experience. They were
at a loss how to take it.
"My resignation," Tillie continued, "must take effect
immediately--to-night. I trust you will have no difficulty in getting a
substitute."
She paused--there was not a movement or a sound in the room.
"I thank you for your attention." Tillie bowed, turned, and walked
across the room. Not until she reached the door was the spell broken.
With her hand on the knob, she saw her father rise and start toward her.
She had no wish for an encounter with him; quickly she went out into
the hall, and, in order to escape him, she opened the street door,
stepped out, and closed it very audibly behind her. Then hurrying in at
the adjoining door of the bar-room, she ran out to the hotel kitchen,
where she knew she would find her aunt.
Mrs. Wackernagel was alone, washing dishes at the sink. She looked up
with a start at Tillie's hurried entrance, and her kindly face showed
distress as she saw who it was; for, faithful to the Rules, she would
not speak to this backslider and excommunicant from the faith. But
Tillie went straight up to her, threw her arms about her neck, and
pressed her lips to her aunt's cheek.
"Aunty Em! I can't go away without saying good-by to you. I am going to
Europe! TO EUROPE, Aunty Em!" she cried. The words sounded unreal and
strange to her, and she repeated them to make their meaning clear to
herself. "Miss Margaret has sent for me to take me with her TO EUROPE!"
She rapidly told her aunt all that had happened, and Mrs. Wackernagel's
bright, eager face of delight expressed all the sympathy and affection
which Tillie craved from her, but which the Mennonite dared not utter.
"Aunty Em, no matter where I go or what may befall me, I shall never
forget your love and kindness. I shall remember it always, ALWAYS."
Aunty Em's emotions were stronger, for the moment, than her allegiance
to the Rules, and her motherly arms drew the girl to her bosom and held
her there in a long, silent embrace.
She refrained, however, from kissing her; and presently Tillie drew
herself away and, dashing the tears from her eyes, went out of the
house by the back kitchen door. From here she made her way, in a
roundabout fashion, to the rear entrance of the store-keeper's house
across the road, for she was quite sure that her father had gone into
the store in search of her.
Cautiously stepping into the kitchen, she found Fairchilds restlessly
pacing the floor, and he greeted her return with a look of mingled
pleasure and apprehension.
"Your father is out front, in the store, Tillie," he whispered, coming
close to her. "He's looking for you. He doesn't know I'm in town, of
course. Come outside and I 'll tell you our plan."
He led the way out of doors, and they sought the seclusion of a
grape-arbor far down the garden.
"We'll leave it to the Doc to entertain your father," Fairchilds went
on; "you will have to leave here with me to-night, Tillie, and as soon
as possible, for your father will make trouble for us. We may as well
avoid a conflict with him--especially for your sake. For myself, I
shouldn't mind it!" He smiled grimly.
He was conscious, as his eyes rested on Tillie's fair face under the
evening light, of a reserve in her attitude toward him that was new to
her. It checked his warm impulse to take her hands in his and tell her
how glad he was to see her again.
"How can we possibly get away to-night?" she asked him. "There are no
stages until the morning."
"We shall have to let the Doc's fertile brain solve it for us, Tillie.
He has a plan, I believe. Of course, if we have to wait until morning
and fight it out with your father, then we'll have to, that's all. But
I hope that may be avoided and that we may get away quietly."
They sat in silence for a moment. Suddenly Fairchilds leaned toward her
and spoke to her earnestly.
"Tillie, I want to ask you something. Please tell me--why did you never
answer my letters?"