“Her! A teacher!” she said.
Azalea saw Paralee cower at this speech, and she knew then why the girl was so sullen, so heavily sad. She had been “put down” all her life, and she had grown to be like a hateful, chained beast under it.
Then Miss Zillah spoke. She was occupying one of the three chairs in the room, and in that bare and bitter place, she looked—with her kind face and seemly garments—like a being from another world than that in which poor Mrs. Panther lived and had her aimless being.
“She has the wish to be a teacher, Mrs. Panther,” she said in her soft tones, “and she has the brains for it as well, so these young ladies tell me. In fact, I hear that she understands book-studying better than most. We all hope to help her, ma’am, and to see you and your husband in a different home from this. Wouldn’t you like to have neighbors and to be where a doctor could visit your husband?”
But Mrs. Panther could not face Miss Pace as she replied. There was too much she could not tell. How could she leave the only spot on earth that belonged to her? How could they make any sort of a living elsewhere? Dare she, who had no more clothes than the poorest beggar, go out into the world?
Miss Zillah looked at her with her soft yet penetrating gaze.
“I know all you’re thinking, Mrs. Panther,” she said in tones that carried conviction to the heart, “but I’ll just ask you to trust in us and we’ll see you through.”
For a moment or two no one spoke. Mr. Thompson was leaving matters for the present in Miss Zillah’s hands. Keefe and the girls were silent with pity. Never had they imagined anything so hopeless as the look on the faces of that man and woman.
“You’ll think of a dozen reasons why you can’t do this or that,” went on Miss Zillah, “but I feel that every one of them can be overcome.”
Paralee had drawn nearer to her mother, and her dark eyes shone like points of fire there in the gloom of the cabin.