She learned that the board of the college which had called Nelson had agreed to keep the position open for him for another year, so he was to stay in Polktown. The increase in his salary he could send to the old aunt who had helped him get an education. On her part, Janice explained her reason for attending school in Middletown, and what a great help Daddy’s present was going to be to her in getting back and forth.
But the real source of the difference between them—the barrier o’er which their confidences could not leap—was touched upon by neither. Nelson could not speak about Frank Bowman, nor could Janice open her lips about Annette.
CHAPTER XIV
ONE SATURDAY AFTERNOON
From the evening of the lawn party (the Ladies’ Aid was bitter about that) Annette Bowman’s influence upon the younger element of Polktown was established. Contrary to her brother’s expectations, Annette did not find the little provincial town a bore. Indeed, she began to “have the time of her young, sweet life,” as Frank confessed, with chagrin, to Janice.
“I wouldn’t believe it if I didn’t see it with my own eyes. I thought she would be disgusted with the place in a day—dead sore on it in a week—and desirous of never hearing the word ‘Polktown’ mentioned as long as she lived, when she turned her back on it and hiked for New York, where we have a lively bunch of cousins.
“But what do you think?” continued the amazed young civil engineer. “She is talking now of our taking a house, if one can be found, hiring a woman to do the work, and remaining all winter. For I shall be on this job, I expect, all this year and next. She declares she is going to wake Polktown up. She is going to innovate carpet dances, and hopes to see frequent balls in the Odd Fellows’ Hall, and wants to stir up the whole place as it hasn’t been stirred since the Year One.
“Believe me, Miss Janice! I didn’t think it was in her. I thought she would make everybody laugh at her, or angry with her, inside of a week—everybody she met, I mean. And I declare! Old Mrs. Parraday almost worships her already. That funny little Mrs. Scattergood—the mother of your friend—has been to call on her, and Annette put herself out to delight the old lady.
“Old Dexter is beginning to stop and talk whenever he meets her; and if you’ll believe it, she was in Massey’s drug store yesterday with Maggie Price and Mrs. Price, and she was teaching those old loafers that congregate there—Cross Moore, and Dexter, and Len Phinney—some dancing steps.
“She says what they need and what she is going to import—if she can get one—is a dancing teacher. What do you know about that? A dancing teacher, no less! Says people ought not to be allowed to grow up and just exist, as folks do here, until Death reaps ’em, without getting any joy out of life.”
“I guess she’s right as far as that goes, Mr. Bowman,” said Janice reflectively.