At first Constance was strongly inclined to resent it all, and to sever relations with the victim of Elijah Sniffin’s scheming, but gradually, as Mr. Porter talked, her sense of justice prevailed, and her resentment changed to pity, and with that the day was won.
Perhaps Mr. Porter’s casually dropped remark regarding Mr. Elijah Sniffins’ sudden departure from South Riveredge to take charge of one of the company’s offices in the far West, and the added information that he would not return to his former home, was the final straw which turned the balance in Katherine’s favor. Constance was a generous-hearted girl, to whom petty resentment was impossible. And so that chapter in the lives of the girls, so utterly unlike in character, was closed, and Constance never knew what an exceedingly unpleasant one it might have been for her but for Mammy’s ceaseless vigilance and Mr. Porter’s wisdom. For a few days, it is true, she was somewhat disturbed, and it needed all her self-control and dignity to help her through the half-hour’s talk with Katherine, but once that ordeal was over she dismissed it all forever, and was the same sweet, gracious little employer whom Katherine had always known. If Katherine had admired her before, she openly adored her now, and confided to Mary Willing, whom she met not long after, that she “didn’t know there could be girls like Constance Carruth,” and forthwith eulogized her until, had Constance heard it, she might have been forgiven if she had begun to feel around her own shoulder blades for sprouting wings.
Mary let her talk on, secretly rejoicing in every word spoken in praise of her idol, then with a most superior “why—anybody—could—have—told—you—that” air, she said:
“It’s all very well, I dare say, for people to work like everything to reform girls who have actually done wrong and are in disgrace, but from my standpoint, if a few more people would do the things Mrs. Carruth and Miss Constance are doing as a matter of course every day of their lives, there wouldn’t be so many girls in need of reforming, because they would be helped to have a little common sense and an idea of the fitness of things before they went too far. Everybody knows what a silly little fool I used to be whenever a man came near me, and I’d be one yet if it hadn’t been for those blessed people; but I tell you they made me sit up and take notice, and they did it so beautifully, and with so much love and sweet fellowship thrown in, that I’d die to-morrow if it could save just one hair of their dear heads. You may think I’m just talking for effect, but I’m not. I mean every single word I say, and if you ever get to know them as Fanny and I do, you will feel exactly the same way, you see if you don’t.”
“I do already, though I can’t talk as you do,” answered Katherine, simply.
“They have helped me that way, too,” added Mary. “My goodness, how I used to talk and what awful words I used before I knew them! But they teach you without letting you ever guess they are teaching, and you learn because you can’t help it. Good-bye. Come down and see me some time.”
“Can I come to see you down there?”
“Why not? The little sitting-room up over the candy kitchen is just like our own. Miss Constance told me to invite any of my girl friends to visit me whenever I wished to, and we have lovely times up there evenings when the work is done. Sometimes Mrs. Carruth or Miss Constance come out to sit with us a little while. They always say they have come out to welcome their guests, because Fanny’s guests and mine are theirs, too. Isn’t that a sweet way of putting it? We know, though, that they do it because they want our friends to feel at home, and there hasn’t been a single evening when they haven’t sent Mammy up with some cake, or lemonade, or something nice, and I can always take a pound of candy if I want to. Oh, there’s no place in all the world like the ‘Bee-hive,’ I tell you!” And, with a happy smile, Mary went upon her way.
Not long after this something else came up that filled the Carruth household with subject for thought.
Before leaving college, Eleanor had been offered a position in a girls’ school. The school was one widely known, and prepared a great many pupils for Eleanor’s alma mater. She had been highly recommended by its faculty, and had fully decided to accept the position. All that remained to complete the arrangements was her final acceptance above her own signature and that of the school’s principal. This she was on the point of settling when she returned to Riveredge, then a trifle changed her decision. Homer Forbes came home with her, and on the way she told him of her plans.