Serena had excellent ideas in child training. Although in her mind Virginia was a young lady of position who could properly demand appropriate attention, yet must she learn to meet the responsibilities of her station.
Obadiah was assured that his daughter in Serena’s charge was in the care of one who loved her. From time to time he made vague plans for the child’s future. As they were to commence at an indefinite time they never materialized. More and more the business activities of the manufacturer occupied his time, and slowly but surely the duty of Virginia’s upbringing was shifted to the negro woman.
When Virginia was five, Serena told her employer, “Dis yere chil’ orter be in school a learnin’ mo’ an’ ah kin teach her,” and so the mill owner’s daughter was started upon her scholastic career at a kindergarten.
Obadiah never knew the worries of this illiterate negro woman in planning suitable clothing for his child. No man could appreciate that watchful eye ever ready to copy styles and materials from the garments of children of families deemed worthy as models.
Virginia’s education was continued under the guidance of a Miss Keen who conducted a select school for young ladies in South Ridgefield. This institution, highly esteemed as a seat of learning by Serena, offered courses usually terminating when pupils refused longer to attend the establishment. In its most prosperous years its enrollment never exceeded twenty misguided maidens.
Now, Virginia had arrived at the age of eighteen, a serious, rather shy girl, whose youth had been spent under the supervision of an old negro woman, narrowed by the influence of a small school and neglected by a busy father.
When Obadiah came home that night for dinner, she met him in the hall. He was a very tall man and extremely thin. His sharp features gave a shrewd expression and his smooth shaven face displayed a cruel mouth and an obstinate jaw.
“Hello, Daddy dear,” cried the girl as she held up her mouth to be kissed. She gave a happy little laugh when he pinched her cheek, and demanded of him, “What day is this?”
“Tuesday,” he answered indifferently, “the tenth of June.”
“Can’t you think of anything else?”