“As I have repeatedly said, Mr. Ketchim, the girl is a paradox. And after these months of disappointing effort to instruct her, I am forced to throw up my hands in despair and send for you.” Madam Elwin tapped nervously with a dainty finger upon the desk before her.
“But, if I may be permitted the question, what specific reasons have you, Madam, for––ah, for requesting her removal?” asked the very Reverend Dr. William Jurges, who, having 51 come up to the city to attend a meeting of the directors of the Simití company, had accepted Ketchim’s invitation to first accompany him on his flying trip to Conway-on-the-Hudson, in response to Madam Elwin’s peremptory summons.
“Because,” replied that worthy personage with a show of exasperation, “I consider her influence upon the young ladies here quite detrimental. Our school, while non-sectarian, is at least Christian. Miss Carmen is not. Where she got her views, I can not imagine. At first she made frequent mention of a Catholic priest, who taught her in her home town, in South America. But of late she has grown very reserved––I might say, sullen, and talks but little. Her views, however, are certainly not Catholic. In her class work she has become impossible. She refuses to accept a large part of our instruction. Her answers to examination questions are wholly in accord with her peculiar views, and hence quite apart from the texts. For that reason she fails to make any grades, excepting in mathematics and the languages. She utterly refuses to accept any religious instruction whatsoever. She would not be called atheistic, for she talks––or used to at first––continually about God. But her God is not the God of the Scriptures, Dr. Jurges. She is a free-thinker, in the strictest sense. And as such, we can not consent to her remaining longer with us.”
“Ah––quite so, Madam, quite so,” returned the clergyman, in his unconsciously pompous manner. “Doubtless the child’s thought became––ah––contaminated ere she was placed in your care. But––ah––I have heard so much from our good friend, Mr. Ketchim, regarding this young girl, that––ah––I should like exceedingly to see and talk with her––if it might be––ah––”
“Madam Elwin will arrange that, I am sure,” interposed Ketchim. “Suppose,” he suggested, addressing the lady, “we let him talk with her, while I discuss with you our recently acquired mine in South America, and the advisability of an investment with us.”
“Certainly,” acquiesced Madam Elwin, rising and pressing one of the several buttons in the desk. “Bring Miss Carmen,” she directed, to the maid who answered the summons.
“Pardon me,” interrupted Dr. Jurges; “but may I go to her? Ah––it would doubtless be less embarrassing for the child.”
“Miss Carmen was in the chapel a few moments ago,” volunteered the maid.
“Then take the doctor there,” returned Madam Elwin, with a gesture of dismissal.
At the head of the stairway the mingled sounds of a human voice and the soft, trembling notes of an organ drifted through the long hall and fell upon the ears of the clergyman.