"Oh, as to that," said Florence, going to the piano and drumming lightly, without sitting down, "she is very independent. She asserts herself quite enough."
"Why, yes," broke in her mother, hastily. "She actually had the impudence to apply for a position as teacher of the primary school, and Parson Townsend, and Hickson of the School Board, were determined she should have it. The 'Gazette' took it up, and for awhile Lilly was the heroine of the day. But of course she did not succeed. It would have ruined the school. A colored teacher! Dreadful!"
"Dreadful, indeed," said Horton. He rose and joined Florence at the piano, and a moment later Mrs. Fairfield was contentedly drumming upon the table, in the worst possible time, to her daughter's performance of a brilliant waltz.
The evening terminated pleasantly. After Horton had gone, mother and daughter had a long confidential talk upon the piazza, which it is needless to repeat. But at its close, as Mrs. Fairfield was closing the doors for the night, she might have been heard to say:
"You could spend your winters in Boston, you know."
To which Florence returned a dreamy "Yes."
The tranquillity of Ridgemont was this summer disturbed by several events of unusual local interest. Two, of a melancholy nature, were the deaths of good old Parson Townsend and of Dr. Brown, one of the only two regular physicians of whom the town could boast. The latter event had the effect to bring about the beginning of young Dr. Horton's professional career. The road now lay fair and open before him. His father had been widely known and liked, and people were not slow in showing their allegiance to the honored son of an honored father.
Of course this event, being one of common interest, was duly discussed and commented upon, and nowhere so loudly and freely as in the post-office and cobbler's shop, where, surrounded by their disciples and adherents, the respective proprietors dispensed wit and wisdom in quantities suitable to the occasion.
"He's young," remarked the worthy post-master, with a wave of his clay pipe, "an' he's brought home a lot o' new-fangled machines an' furrin notions, but he's got a good stock of Yankee common-sense to back it all, an' I opine he'll do."
And such was the general verdict.