BEFORE THE JUDGMENT SEAT
As for Beth herself, when she left the table, Miss Carroll spoke to her:
“See Miss Hammersly in the office at once, Miss Baldwin. It is
imperative.”
“Yes, Miss Carroll,” Beth said, and went to the interview with apparent
calmness.
Miss Hammersly was sitting under the shaded light at her desk, making
notes upon a tablet. As Beth entered, the school principal arose
quickly so that the shadow fell across her face, while the girl stood
in the full glare of the lamp.
“Beth!”
“Yes, Miss Hammersly.”
“I have called you here upon a serious matter.”
“Yes.”
“Do you know the meaning of this afternoon’s exhibition of disloyalty
and bad taste on the athletic field?”
Beth did not dodge the issue. “I understand, Miss Hammersly,” she said,
“that some of the girls say I am dishonest. It has something to do
with Mrs. Severn. What it means, I do not know.”
Beth’s lips were quivering, but she spoke bravely. Miss Hammersly
stared straight at her for fully a minute. She saw the black eyes dim,
lose their sparkle, and overflow with slow tears that found their
courses, one by one, down the girl’s cheeks.
The principal of Rivercliff School was not given to sentiment--as a
practice. But she suddenly came close to Beth and put both arms about
her in a motherly way.
“My poor child!” she said. “You are much to be pitied, I believe. I
know that you are maligned. You have no knowledge at all of what this
exhibition against you on the part of your schoolmates means?”
“Not at all, Miss Hammersly.”
“We will see Mrs. Severn together and find out the facts,” declared the
principal.
“Mrs. Severn!”
“Yes. Some of your schoolmates have got hold of something that
evidently had its origin at Severn Lodge. It came by way of the back
stairs, of course--from one servant to another. It is disgraceful
enough,” continued Miss Hammersly with indignation, “that any of my
girls should listen to servants’ gossip; and worse still that they
should allow it to influence their minds against a fellow-student.
“We cannot call on Mrs. Severn to-night, Beth. She is a semi-invalid
and probably retires early. But we will go to-morrow afternoon.”
“Oh, Miss Hammersly! It is so kind of you----”
“No, Beth. I cannot claim any such virtue in the case. I must defend
the characters of my pupils for my own sake--for the school’s sake. And
in this case, my dear, I will defend you for your sake; for I am sure
you are guiltless of any intended wrong.”
Miss Hammersly and Beth went together in an automobile the following
afternoon to Mrs. Severn’s home. It was true that, when they entered,
the footman seemed to place himself before Beth as though to ward her
from the stairs, while the ever-watchful foreign maid hissed from the
head of the stairs:
“Miz Baldwig ees not to come up, Jeems!”
But Miss Hammersly handed her card to the footman, saying sternly:
“Announce me to your mistress. Give that card to nobody else!”
The maid, casting a malevolent glance at Beth, backed out of sight.
The big footman started up the stairs, the very calves of his legs in
their silk stockings trembling in indignation. But the school principal
and Beth were immediately ushered into the presence of the mistress of
Severn Lodge.
Mr. Montague, upside down as usual, shrieked a greeting in his most
appalling fashion. The gouty one threw a cushion at his cage; but
possibly owing to nervousness, she missed it.
“Shut up, Mr. Dennis Montague!” she cried.
“Dennis Mudd! Dennis Mudd!” screamed the parrot. Then, soulfully:
“The noble Duke of York,
He had ten thousand men,
He marched them up a hill one day,
Then he marched them down--
Too-roo-lal-roo-lal-larry! Johnny come home to tea!”
After this long speech the creature was breathless, and the lady of the
mansion and Miss Hammersly could converse. The former asked neither of
her guests to sit down, nor did she, indeed, glance at Beth.
“I do not understand this call, Miss Hammersly!” said Mrs. Severn,
haughtily.
“I propose to explain myself very quickly, Madam,” said the school
principal, quite as haughtily. “When you sent to inquire of me
regarding Miss Baldwin last June, after she had gone home, why did you
not explain your reason for so doing? Why leave me to find out this
calumny against one of my pupils, Mrs. Severn, until now, and through
such mean channels?”
“What do you mean, Miss Hammersly, by ‘mean channels,’ pray?” croaked
Mrs. Severn.
“Pray! Pray, I say!” croaked the parrot, in a voice scarcely less harsh.
“Shut up, Mr. Montague!”
“Shut up yourself!” returned the parrot, who had now come out of the
cage and was walking along the mopboard of the room, pecking at the
carpet.
“I do not think I need explain,” said Miss Hammersly. “Through your
servants the story has reached my serving people, and, of course, some
of the more thoughtless of my girls. Miss Baldwin does not know now of
what you accuse her.”
“She should be glad I did not send a policeman after her!” cried Mrs.
Severn, in weak rage.
“You should be glad, Madam, that I do not institute suit for slander
against you on Miss Baldwin’s behalf--and that I certainly will do if
you continue to repeat your accusation.”
“Oh, Miss Hammersly!” begged Beth, in tears now. “Of what am I
accused?”
“Of stealing a diamond sunburst. She says it is missing since the last
Saturday you were here in June.”
Beth’s gaze flashed to the neck of Mrs. Severn’s gown. The
old-fashioned pin she usually wore was missing.
“Oh! that is awful!” the girl murmured.
“No, it is not,” Miss Hammersly said sternly. “It is merely unjust--and
actionable. I have come here to tell you, Mrs. Severn, that you must
write Miss Baldwin an apology, stating that you have no evidence
that she had anything to do with the disappearance of your pin. This
disavowal I will read to my girls. And I will send home any one of them
who dares repeat the calumny upon Miss Baldwin’s character.”
Mrs. Severn, very angry, tried to be dignified, while the parrot went
into a spasm of laughter in the corner of the bay window. But Miss
Hammersly had been managing people--and getting her own way with them,
too--for twenty years. She and Beth finally left the house with just
the paper the school principal had demanded.
On Monday morning after prayers, Miss Hammersly gave the entire school
a lecture on the evils of gossip and read Mrs. Severn’s written
acknowledgment of the wrong she had done Beth. Maude Grimshaw was very
much subdued just at this time. If the story of the lost pin and
the accusation against Beth was repeated, it was done so in secret,
thereafter.
The wound, however, remained open in Beth’s soul. It was hard for even
such a sweet nature as hers to overlook and forgive the treatment she
had received at the hands of many of her schoolmates.