The wife of the sheep-king sat down, but held herself rigidly erect. “Miss Bayley,” she said, “didn’t you get an invitation to come to our house to supper?”
“Why, yes, Mrs. Archer, but did not Jessica tell you that although I appreciated your thoughtfulness, I could not accept to-day, as I had another engagement?” Miss Bayley was calm, and completely mistress of the situation.
The older woman sneered. “Engagement?” she repeated sarcastically. “How could you have any engagements in these here parts that couldn’t be set aside when I need your services?”
Miss Bayley’s eyebrows lifted, ever so slightly. “I did not understand that you needed me,” she said. “I thought that you wished to contribute to my pleasure by inviting me to supper.”
Mrs. Archer’s manner changed. “Well, so I did in a way, and if you’ll go back with us now,” she said, “I’ll call it all right.” She knew that unless Miss Bayley did help her, she would be unable to read a paper before the Woman’s Club in Genoa on the next day.
For one brief moment Josephine Bayley hesitated. Should she defy this woman and declare her right to independence at least as far as her free time was concerned? A second thought reminded her that this would be unwise, if she wished to remain in the mountain country; and now, more than ever, she did wish to remain, that she might help little Dixie Martin, if for no other reason.
That small girl had risen, and in the pause she said shyly: “Teacher, Miss Bayley, I must be going. Baby Jim is like to be missing me by now.”
“Very well, dear.” The teacher also rose and walked to the door which she opened, and then said, loud enough for the listeners to hear without effort: “Dixie, be ready to-morrow morning at half-past eight. You would better come up here, dear, and then the stage will not need to stop on the cañon road.”
Then, closing the door and turning back into the room, she added pleasantly: “I suppose, Mrs. Archer, that you wish me to prepare a paper for you. If that is true, I will get my hat and coat and accompany you.”
Her manner, in spite of the graciousness of her words and tone, was defiant, and when she returned from her screened bedroom, she found Mr. Archer, his hands behind him, pacing up and down the living-room.