“Yes, she was: there were two boys came in between; then Anstice, then Jane, Harriett, Lemuel, and the baby.”
“Oh my!” gasped Alexia, tumbling over into Polly Pepper's lap.
“Eight of us; so you see, it would never do for the one who was having so much money spent upon her, to waste a single penny of it. When I once got to teaching, I was to pay it all back.”
“And did you—did you?” demanded curious Fanny.
“Did she?—oh, girls!” It was Miss Anstice who almost gasped this, making every girl turn around.
“Never mind,” Miss Salisbury telegraphed over their heads, to “sister,” which kept her silent. But she meant to tell sometime.
Polly Pepper, all this time, hadn't moved, but sat with hands folded in her lap. What if she had given up and flown home to Mamsie and the little brown house before Mr. King discovered her homesickness and brought Phronsie! Supposing she hadn't gone in the old stagecoach that day when she first left Badgertown to visit in Jasper's home! Just supposing it! She turned quite pale, and held her breath, while Miss Salisbury proceeded.
“And now comes the incident that occurred during that boarding-school year, that I have intended for some time to tell you girls, because it may perhaps help you in some experience where you will need the very quality that I lacked on that occasion.”
“Oh sister!” expostulated Miss Anstice.
“It was a midwinter day, cold and clear and piercing.” Miss Salisbury shivered a bit, and drew the shawl put across the back of her stone seat, closer around her. “Mrs. Ferguson—that was the name of the principal—had given the girls a holiday to take them to a neighboring town; there was to be a concert, I remember, and some other treats; and the scholars were, as you would say, 'perfectly wild to go,'” and she smiled indulgently at her rapt audience. “Well, I was not going.”