TWO SIDES OF A QUESTION
It could hardly be expected that, after her training of the past six and a half years, Toinette would at once respond to the wiser, more elevating influences now surrounding her. The old impulses would return, and a desire to conceal where no concealment was necessary often placed her in a false light. She distrusted those in authority simply because they were in authority, rather than that they ever made it apparent. It seemed to have become second nature with her, and bade fair to prove a work of almost infinite patience and love upon the part of the teachers to undo the mischief wrought in those miserable years.
But, after making a toy of the poor child for all that time, fickle fate seemed about to make amends, and, although it was yet to be proven, Toinette was now launched upon a sunny sea, and destined to sail into a happy harbor.
She was sitting in her room one beautiful afternoon about a week after her arrival at the school, and, unconsciously doing profitable examples in rhetoric by drawing nice contrasts between her present surroundings and her former ones. Presently a tap came upon her door, and she called: “Come in.”
In bounced Ruth, crying: “Come on down to the village with us, will you? Edith and Cicely are waiting at the gate.”
“Which teacher is going with us?” asked Toinette, suspiciously.
“Teacher?” echoed Ruth. “Why, none, of course. Why don’t you ask if we are going in a baby-carriage?” and she laughed as she slipped her arm through Toinette’s.
“You don’t mean to say that we will be allowed to go by ourselves?”
“Toinette Reeve, I think you’ve got the queerest ideas I ever heard of! Come on!”
In spite of Ruth’s assurance, Toinette cast apprehensive glances about her, as though she expected a frowning face to appear around some corner and rebuke them. Instead, however, they came upon Miss Howard just at the end of the corridor, who asked in a cheery voice:
“Where away so briskly, my lady birds?”
“Only to the village; good-bye,” answered Ruth, waving her hand in farewell.
“Pleasant journey. You will probably run across Miss Preston down there somewhere, and can act as bodyguard for her.”
The girls walked briskly on, and presently Cicely asked:
“What are you going for, anyway?”
“Some good things, to be sure. I’m just perishing for some cream-peppermints, and my week’s pocket-money is scorching holes in my pocket as fast as ever it can.”
“Do you think Miss Preston would scold if I got something, too?” asked Toinette.
“What would she scold about? You didn’t steal the money you’re going to buy it with, did you? And your stomach’s your own, isn’t it? Besides, when you’ve been here a while longer you’ll learn that Miss Preston doesn’t scold. If she thinks a thing isn’t good for you to do, she just asks you not to do it, and she takes it for granted that you’ve got sense enough to understand why.”
“Oh, I guess you’re all saints in this school,” replied Toinette, sarcastically.
“Well, as near as I can make out, you had a pretty good supply of sinners where you came from,” was the prompt retort.
When Ruth’s pocket was saved from destruction the girls started homeward. They had not gone far when three of the boys from the large school at the upper end of the town were seen coming toward them.
“Oh, jolly,” cried Edith, “there are Ned, Allan and Gilbert! Now we’ll have fun; they’re awfully nice. Allan has the dearest pony and trap you ever saw, and is just as generous as can be with it.”
The boys were now beside them, and, raising their caps politely, joined the party and were introduced to the new girls. This was a complete revelation to Cicely and Toinette, for at Miss Carter’s school boys had been regarded as a species of wild animal, to be shunned as though they carried destruction to all whom they might overtake.
But here were Ruth and Edith walking along with three of those monsters in manly form, and, still worse, talking to them in the frankest, merriest manner, as though there were no such thing on earth as schools and teachers. Toinette and Cicely dropped a little behind, and soon found an opportunity to draw Edith with them.
“Don’t forget that Miss Howard said that Miss Preston was down in the village. I’ll bet a cookie there’ll be a fine rumpus if she catches us gallivanting with all these boys,” whispered Toinette.
A funny smile quivered about the corners of Edith’s mouth, but before she could answer Miss Preston herself stood before them. She had suddenly turned in from a side street. As though detected in some serious misdemeanor, Toinette and Cicely hung back, and Edith remained beside them.
With such a smile as only Miss Preston could summon, she bowed to the group, and said:
“How do you do, little people? Are you going to let me add one more to the party? I’m not very big, you know, and I like a bodyguard. Besides, I haven’t seen the boys in a ‘blue moon,’ and I think it high time I took them to task, for they haven’t been to call upon us in an age. Give an account of yourselves, young sirs. Before very long there is going to be a dance at a house I could mention, and you don’t want to be forgotten by the hostess, do you?”
Toinette and Cicely found it difficult to believe themselves awake. Touching Edith’s elbow, they indicated by mysterious signs that they wished to ask something, and dropped still further behind.
“What does it all mean, anyhow? She doesn’t really mean to have the boys at the house, does she?”
Edith’s eyes began to twinkle as though someone had dropped a little diamond into each, and, without answering, she gave a funny laugh and took a few quick steps forward. Slipping an arm about Miss Preston’s waist, she said: “Miss Preston?”
“Yes, dear,” turning a pleasant face toward the girl.
“The girls are planning a candy frolic for next Friday night, and were going to ask your permission to-day, only they haven’t had time yet. May we have it over in the kitchen of the cottage, and may the boys come, too?”
A merry smile had overspread Miss Preston’s face, and when Edith finished speaking, she said:
“Young gentlemen, I hope you didn’t hear the last remark made by my friend, Miss Osgood; at all events, you’re not supposed to have done so; it would be embarrassing for us all. But, since you did not, I’ll say to her: Yes, you may have your candy frolic, and that is for her ears alone. Now to you: The girls are to have a candy frolic Friday evening, and would be delighted to have your company.”
It had all been said in Miss Preston’s irresistibly funny way, and was greeted with shouts of laughter. Toinette and Cicely had learned something new. All now crowded about her urging her to accept some of their goodies, and, joining heartily in the spirit of good-comradeship, she took a sweetie from first one box and then another. Possibly another person, with a stricter regard for Mrs. Grundy’s extremely refined sensibilities, might have hesitated to walk along the highways surrounded by half a dozen boys and girls, all chattering as hard as their tongues could wag, and munching cream-peppermints; but Miss Preston’s motto was “Vis in ute,” and, with the fine instinct so often wanting in those who have young characters to form, she looked upon the question from their side, feeling sure that sooner or later would arise questions which she would wish them to regard from hers; and therein lay the key-note of her success.
She would no more have thought of raising the barrier of teacher and pupil between herself and her girls than she would have thought of depriving them of something necessary to their physical welfare. The girls were her friends and she theirs—their best and truest, to whom they might come with their joys or their sorrows, sure of her sympathy with either, and, rather than cast a shadow upon their confidence, she would have toiled up the hill with the whole school swarming about her, and an express-wagon of sweets following close behind. That was the secret of her wonderful power over them. They never realized the disparity between their own ages and hers, because she had never forgotten when life was young.