“I wonder,” said Mrs. Bonner, “if Colonel Woodruff would be as friendly to Jim Irwin if he knew that everybody says Jennie decided he was to keep his certif’kit because she wants him to get along in the world, so he can marry her?”
“I don’t know as she is so very friendly to him,” replied Mrs. Bronson; “and Jim and Jennie are both of age, you know.”
“Yes, but how about our schools bein’ ruined by a love affair?” interrogated Mrs. Bonner, as they moved away. “Ain’t that your business and mine?”
Instead of desiring further knowledge of what they were discussing, Jim felt a dreadful disgust at the whole thing. Disgust at being the subject of gossip, at the horrible falsity of the picture he had been able to paint to the people of his objects and his ambitions, and especially at the desecration of Jennie by such misconstruction of her attitude toward him officially and personally. Jennie was vexed at him, and wanted him to resign from his position. He firmly believed that she was surprised at finding herself convinced that he was entitled to a decision in the matter of his competency as a teacher. She was against him, he believed, and as for her being in love with him—to hear these women discuss it was intolerable.
He felt his face redden as at the hearing of some horrible indecency. He felt himself stripped naked, and he was hotly ashamed that Jennie should be associated with him in the exposure. And while he was raging inwardly, paying the penalty of his new-found place in the public eye—a publicity to which he was not yet hardened—he heard other voices. Professor Withers, County Superintendent Jennie and Colonel Woodruff were making an inspection of the rural-school exhibit.
“I hear he has been having some trouble with his school board,” the professor was saying.
“Yes,” said Jennie, “he has.”
“Wasn’t there an effort made to remove him from his position?” asked the professor.
“Proceedings before me to revoke his certificate,” replied Jennie.
“On what grounds?”