From that time on the influence of a silly girl on a more or less idle community spread with a rapidity that was really remarkable. Of course, it wasn’t Aunt ’Mira, or Mrs. Scattergood, or Mabel Woods, Elvira Snow and Icivilly Sprague only, who felt the infection.
It was true that Mrs. Scattergood appeared at the next meeting of the Ladies’ Aid Society in a gown with a modest slit on the side showing a silk petticoat, and despite all Janice could do her aunt had the salmon poplin made up and wore it with the purple plume on her hat.
“I vum!” gasped Uncle Jason, when his wife dawned on his vision as he came up from the barns, “ye look jest like a fodder stack on fire in a fog. I never see the beat of you, Almiry. When them Vermillion Queen troupers come here and tried to show at the Opry House, there warn’t one o’ them dressed as gay as you be. If you old wimmen air a-goin’ to set sech an example to the gals in Polktown, we’ll come to a pretty pass. Huh!”
Perhaps Janice herself was the person least affected by the coming of Annette Bowman with her airs, graces, and costumes. And yet she was made to feel the presence of the city girl in Polktown to a degree.
Janice saw nothing of Nelson Haley, save to bow to him, or speak to him at church, or in a store, or on the street. He always seemed in haste to get away when he spied Janice; but she heard of his being in attendance on Annette almost every day.
The school committee had held a meeting and voted to increase Nelson’s salary if he would remain in charge of the Polktown school for another year. Nelson had agreed to remain. But all this information came to Janice at second hand. A few weeks before, the young man would have discussed the matter with her, if with nobody else. But now he did not come near her.
Was it because of Annette, or of Frank? Janice could not tell.
Janice would not have had anybody know how deeply she felt his neglect, for anything in the world. It did seem as though Daddy’s present of the Kremlin car had brought her more trouble than happiness.
In those days Janice’s father was still in trouble, to judge by his letters. He was doing his best to save the mining property from confiscation by the new government. There had even been a clash of authority, and two of the guards at the mine had been wounded. Daddy had written that he would fight to the end before he would give up what rightfully belonged to him and to those in the company with him.
“He’d better give up an’ come back to the U. S. A.,” was Uncle Jason’s comment. “It’s better to be a poor man than a dead one!”