A week passed away, and nothing occurred in the little school to make Mary think again of her fears. Ellen seemed to like being a teacher; and if she laughed and talked and played with her pupils a little more than was quite consistent with her new dignity, they liked her all the better for it, and learned, from a wish to please her, more than they would perhaps have done if more constrained. As for Mary, Mrs. Maclean said, "It was just a wonder to see how that young bit of a thing, that was nothing but a child herself, would sit sewing so steady like, and never seem to be thinking of any thing but her work; and yet if any of the young ones got in a snarl, and Miss Ellen's voice only sounded quick like, she was up in a minute, and helped them so quietly along that they hardly knowed that she was a helping till they got through."
Ellen had even exerted herself to rise early, that she might be ready for her scholars; but the second Monday morning after the commencement of her labors she seemed to find this an unusually difficult task, and when Mary, who had been some time below stairs, came back to tell her that it was eight o'clock and breakfast was ready, and unless she dressed herself quickly the children would be there before their room was in order, she exclaimed, "Those children! I am sure I wish I had never seen them or heard of them. It is bad enough to have to teach the stupid things, without being obliged to get up at daybreak for them."
"Daybreak, Ellen!" said Mary, moving the window-curtain and letting in a stream of sunshine.
"Well, I don't care what time it is, Mary, it is earlier than I choose to get up, and earlier than I would get up, if it was not for them; and there would be some comfort in it if one thought they would ever learn any thing: but for such a stupid set!"
"Stupid, Ellen!—why Mrs. Maclean and I have just been saying what bright intelligent children they were."
"Well," said Ellen, who had now talked herself into a really angry mood, "I suppose they do not learn because they have such a stupid teacher in me. I dare say if you will hear their lessons, they will do better."
"No, Ellen, I think they do learn—learn more with you than they would do with a grave, quiet person like me."
"I do think, Mary, you are the most contradictory person I ever saw in my life. When I hoped the children might be clever, you were sure they would be stupid; and now that I think them stupid, you have found out that they are wonderfully intelligent."
Mary finding that whatever she said tended only to increase Ellen's displeasure, did not remind her that the fears she had expressed had been quite as much of the impatience of the teacher as of the stupidity of the scholars.
Mrs. Maclean's call to breakfast on this morning was quickly and gladly obeyed by Mary, for she thought Ellen's irritation would subside sooner if she was alone. At any rate, thought Mary, when Ellen comes to say her prayers, her ill-humor will pass away. With this hope she went to the breakfast table, and when Ellen followed, received her so cheerfully, that her frowns soon began to wear away and the tones of her voice to grow more pleasant. They had not yet risen from the table when Anna Melville rushed in, sparkling with joyous expectation.