In the very midst of that dread ordeal known as a test
Steve Brown, having gathered some inkling of Janet's mental troubles, was beginning to have his opinion of the whole procedure. Seeing her in such difficulty he had a feeling of revolt against educational things in general, but as the wrong seemed to be beyond his individual powers to remedy, he could only make another trip to the end of the hall. Glancing again at the questions on the board he looked in vain for some inquiry upon the subject of Climate. There did not seem to be even one. And when next he came back, after composing himself for about half a minute on the window ledge, the door was unceremoniously shut in his face!
He had come to a definite stop in hope of finding at least one question upon the subject of Climate; the door was shut in his face. Confronting him was the printed legend—"County Superintendent." His heels were frozen to the floor. If it had not been that it was an improper and very unusual thing to do, he could have shot each particular letter of that announcement full of bullet holes.
The remedy for this peculiar outrage not at once presenting itself, he turned on his heel and made another trip to the farther window where he at once came face-about and began patrolling the hallway, past the door and back again, his spurs clicking sharply and his high boot-heels punctuating his progress as if every step put a period to his thoughts.
As he thus took his mind a-walking, everything about Janet's present situation struck him in a light more obnoxious and foolish. Examination! Examination! The idea of that girl having to go to that fellow to be tested! The idea of his having any such authority over her! And besides, if that little Professor really wanted to get an idea of her merits, why did n't he talk to her and find out whether she had common sense? She certainly had more than he had. As if any man with half an eye could n't see that she was the very person to teach children!
As Janet's situation struck him more deeply, and he began to realize how she might feel if she failed, he stopped and glared again at that brazen lettering. Possibly she was failing now. He felt that if he had the authority, or any proper cause,—which he could hardly make out that he had,—he would march in and reform the thing right then and there. But he had no authority. The other fellow had the authority. And the right to close the door between them! This being actually the case he whirled about and resumed his marching back and forth; and his spurs began snapping their jaws again.
Janet, when she saw the door shut, caught her breath and paid strict attention to the paper. The examiner, evidently unconscious of anything but his own precise self, went officially to the blackboard and took up next the writing of another set of questions. He wrote impromptu and with considerable readiness, pausing occasionally to think up a poser.
Regularly she heard her escort coming down the hall on his return trip, and each time she suspended mental operations until he was safely away again. About the time that she had done her best, and worst, to the subject of Geography, he failed to pass the door; his footsteps seemed to turn with a new and lighter expression in some other direction. Then she heard no more of him.
The next subject was Grammar. She caught glimpses of the questions as her examiner walked back and forth from one end of a sentence to the other. As grammar is a subject in which there is some limit to the number of possible questions, she felt that she now had an advantage. She would now do wonders providing he did not ask her something easy.
Luckily he did not. She pushed Geography aside and took a new sheet of foolscap with every prospect of passing. At first it had looked very much as if she were going to fail.
Steve's withdrawal had merely been due to the sudden realization that he was making a great deal of noise in the court-house; whereupon he saw that, all things considered, he could contain himself better somewhere else. He went down the stairs, through the corridor, and out of the grounds. Thence his feet carried him clean to the other side of town.
When he found himself upon the silent shore of the prairie he turned about with the intention of going straight back, but he was three times delayed, first at the hitching-rack in front of "Hart's General Store," where a knot of story-tellers halted him to tell him about the phenomenal good time of his herder, and again in front of the post-office, where another group of loiterers had to be listened to; and finally, having made his escape when he felt that it was high time to go, he had the bad luck to run into Judge Tillotson, whose propensity to talk was such that he could not be denied a hearing without good excuse.
When he at last arrived at the foot of the court-house path, he saw Janet sitting on the bench under the china-berry tree. How long had she been waiting for him? As she caught sight of him she began dabbing her eyes hastily with her handkerchief. Steve saw this. His stride lengthened as he came up the path. Having reached the bench he dropped down suddenly beside her, his arm extended along the top of the bench at her back.
"How did you make out, Miss Janet?"
There was a lugubrious attempt at a smile as she turned her eyes toward him. The tears had been put into her pocket; but still he could see that her eyes were swimming. To him they looked more wonderfully gentle, more wholly true than any eyes he had ever seen.
"Well—Mr. Brown—I failed," she said.
"What! Didn't he let you pass?"
"I already had a third-class certificate, you know."
"Yes; but that is n't any good to you."
"No," she said meditatively. "Even second-class would have got me that school near Merrill. I think I would have passed, too, if he had only been fair in Geography and History."
"What? Did he do anything that wasn't on the square?" he asked sternly.
"Oh, I did n't mean it that way. It is always possible to be unfair in Geography and History, you know,—and besides there is a good deal of luck about it, too. He said he would have let me pass, but he had decided to raise the standard."
She felt his arm stiffen behind her like an iron bar. She thought he was going to rise.
"But he was perfectly fair," she added quickly.
Steve's muscle relaxed slowly; he resumed his former lax attitude and fell to thinking.
"You deserve to get a certificate and you did n't," he said, suddenly sitting up again. "It is n't right."
This last word came out as sharp as a challenge to fight. He seemed to have stiffened up in the saddle with the straight look of indomitable will. Janet's eyes opened wider with the impression she got of him.
"Oh, it is n't a great matter—except that—of course—it is a little disappointing."
"Yes. And somebody that it doesn't make any difference about will come along and pass." His eye still had fight in it. "You like Texas?" he said suddenly. "Don't you think it is a pretty good state?"
"Oh, yes, indeed," answered Janet. "I was very much in hope of being able to stay. If I had only had more time to study—more time—"
There was a quaver in her voice, and she let the sentence end itself there.
He sat for a moment looking straight at the middle of the path before him. Then deliberately he turned about, put his arm behind her again, and took her hand in his.
"Janet," he said, "if you had been here in two or three months from now, there was a question I had all made up to ask you."
"A question?"
"As long as you might have to go away, I might as well tell you now—before you are gone. I was going to ask you in two or three months whether, if—— But no. That is n't fair. What I mean is, will you marry me? Would you?"
Janet paused during a space that would best be represented by a musical rest—a silence in the midst of a symphony. Then her clear eyes turned toward him.
"Yes, Steve; I would."
"You would! Do you mean that now—for keeps?"
"I could go and live with you anywhere in the world. I could almost have answered that two days ago."
Her hand was taken tighter in his grasp. The edge of his sombrero touched the top of her head, and she felt herself being taken under its broad brim with a sense of everlasting shelter. And just then they were interrupted. A visitor to the court-room came up the path—unnoticed till he was almost past. At the same time there was a sound of footsteps coming down the courthouse steps. It was the Professor. Seeing which Steve released her hand and assumed a more conventional public attitude until this particular spectator should be gone. The Professor passed. He kept on his way down the path and did not look back; whereupon Steve took possession of her hand again. It was such a fine delicate hand to him—so small and tender a hand to have to grapple with things of this rough world; he looked at it thoughtfully and hefted it as so much precious property in his own.
"I am mighty glad you said that," he offered. "I was afraid you might have to leave. That's why I wanted you to pass."
"And that's why I wanted to pass, too," she said.
Now that the coast was clear they resumed their confessions. At times they sat in silence, holding hands.
As the time approached when they ought to start back, they were reminded to make more definite plans. He would take her to Merrill, leave the horse and buggy there, and come home to Thornton on the night train. On the following day he would come down with one of his own horses to get the buggy and she could ride up "home" with him and catch the early train back.
"I want you to come up right away and look over the house and get acquainted with the neighborhood."
"Are we going to have nice neighbors?" she asked.
"First-class. A mighty fine lot of folks. They 'll all put themselves out to accommodate you. I think you 'll like them."
"Oh, I know I shall," she answered.
"And I 'll have something I want to give you, too. And we can talk things over and make up our minds about the date. I don't see any use in waiting a long time, do you?"
"Well—no; not too long. But of course there are quite a number of things that need to be done first."
"Yes—of course," he mused. "Quite a number of things that have to be done. And there 's the license to get, too," looking up suddenly at the court-house.
"What!—right now?"
"We might as well get it while we 're right here, don't you think? I might have to come out here after it anyway—and maybe the Comanche would be up and on a rampage. Here we are right now. And there's the court-house."
"It does seem the most sensible way—of course. You had better do whatever you think best."
Upon receiving this commission he arose and proceeded for the license. As he set foot upon the court-house steps he paused and looked back at her. He was straight as a ramrod; there was self-confidence in his carriage and pride in his mien.
"I 'll bet ten dollars I 'll pass," he said.