The four pairs of eyes watched anxiously for a moment. Would “new teacher” like their present?
Their doubts were quickly put to flight, for Miss Josephine Bayley stooped and caressed the long-legged, rather startled kid as she said with a ring of real enthusiasm in her voice: “You dear Star-White, you’re as nice as you can be. I just know that I’m going to love you.” Then, rising, she held out a hand to the two who were nearest, but the others were included in her smiling glance as she said: “Thank you so much, dears. It was ever so kind of you to want to make me happy.” Then, a little helplessly, she appealed to the older boy as she asked, “What shall we do with Star-White now?”
“I’ll tie him up in the shed back o’ your cabin, Miss Bayley. He’ll be all right in there.”
The lad skipped ahead, the kid in his arms, but returned in an incredibly short time.
The procession had continued on its way, and Ken soon remarked, “There’s the schoolhouse, teacher, down the piney lane, and I think there’s folks waiting to see you.”
Miss Bayley turned and saw, back from the road and on a short lane, a log schoolhouse half hidden by great old pines. In front of it stood a very fine carriage drawn by two milk-white horses. At their heads a stocky man with a stubby red beard and a keen, alert, red-brown eye awaited her. He was the “board of education,” of that Miss Bayley was sure, while on the back seat of the vehicle, with her bonneted head held high, sat no less a personage than Mrs. Sethibald Archer, and at her side, also with her head held high, was a much-beruffled young girl, aged eight years, who was of course the prettiest and smartest child in the school. Miss Bayley assured herself that she mustn’t forget that, not for one moment, if she wanted to stay, and, oh, how she did want to stay and get acquainted with the wonderful mountains, and the Martins, and maybe even with the Indians who lived down in the creek-bottom!
All this she thought as she walked up the little lane toward the old log schoolhouse.
CHAPTER FIVE
THE WOODFORD SCHOOLHOUSE
Mr. Sethibald Martin advanced with what he believed to be a dignified stride. Without removing his hat, he said, “This here is Miss Josephine Bayley, I take it—her as has credentials to teach correct speakin’ and figurin’.”
A voice from the vehicle was heard. “You’d better look at ’em, Sethibald, to make sure. I don’t want no teacher that can’t learn my Jessica correct speakin’, such as will fit her for the high sphere she is to fill as the daughter of a sheep-king.” The speech had been planned, that the new teacher might at once be impressed with the importance of the Archers in that mountain community.