"No doubt—no doubt," coughed Mr. George, in a dazed sort of way. "I must look into the matter. Very commendable, certainly." With that he backed out of the store.
"The old hard-shelled stiff-back," muttered Alick, as he shook his fist in the direction of the door.
"You've given him something to think about," said Mr. Blake.
As Mr. George walked toward the home of Mr. Flint, he summed up his chances for reëlection, and found them very slim. When he arrived at the parsonage, or, rather, the farthest point from it to which he thought Sam Billings's voice would carry, he stopped and gazed upon the modest dwelling and its gaudy decoration. Sam spied him, and hailed him gleefully. Mr. George asked for details, and got them wonderfully elaborated by Sam's imaginative mind.
When Sam had finished his story he began asking impertinent questions—questions that made the school committee-man's conscience turn somersaults as he walked quickly away. Later in the day he drove about town, and notified the members of the school committee that there would be a special meeting that evening.
That afternoon there was an especially-special meeting of the Morning Glory Club, at the home of Mrs. Blake. The club-women knew that the meeting had been called for the purpose of expelling Barbara Wallace from the club, and to take some action in regard to making public the fact that the club was not in any way responsible for the costume that she had worn in the theatricals, and many other harsh and terrible, though very indefinite things, but Barbara had unknowingly frustrated their plans.
A moment after the members had been called to order, a motion to adjourn was made and carried, and then they settled themselves for a delightful afternoon talking it over. Mrs. Tweedie appeared to be deeply affected by Barbara's brave act. "We may have misjudged Miss Wallace," she admitted, and then she talked about "atonement" and many other things about which none of us know but little. She tried to explain why she had turned Barbara out by admitting that she was vexed at the time, and only had meant that she expected her to find another boarding-place as soon as possible. "Indeed, how could I do otherwise in view of the unpleasant circumstances? And when she did not return that night at the usual time, no one could imagine my surprise."
"And I have no doubt," said Mrs. Jones, when Mrs. Tweedie had said all that she could to put herself on the right side, "not the slightest, but that Miss Wallace misunderstood me. Of course, I was not wholly in sympathy with her, but I really would not have refused, had I a room to spare." Mrs. Jones wiped away two tears which opportunely came to her eyes, caused, however, not by an excess of emotion, but by a cold in her head.
"True," replied Mrs. Tweedie, "we all have been cruelly misquoted, misunderstood, and misjudged."