That evening Mrs. Abbott, understanding and fully appreciating Marion’s shrinking from publicity, sent her to sit with Elfie while she gave the whole family a graphic account of the pursuit and rescue, being aided and abetted by Mrs. Jones, who was becoming a great favorite with the girls.
And then there was something for Mrs. Abbott to hear. During her absence Edna had telegraphed to her mother that she was sick and wanted to be sent for. This was not known to any one at the time, but her older sister, who came for her the next day, told Miss Blake of it. Certainly Edna was not very well, for fright and the fear of punishment had taken away her appetite and brought on a prostrating headache; so she was permitted to go home with her sister. And hardly had Miss Blake made this explanation to Mrs. Abbott when a letter came from Mrs. Tryon, in which, after stating that Edna appeared to have malaria, for which her family physician prescribed a change of scene, she had decided not to allow her to return to school, at least for the present, but take her with her to Europe, and, if her stay there was prolonged, place her in an English school.
There was a great feeling of relief in Mrs. Abbott’s mind as she read Mrs. Tryon’s letter, for she knew she should have to punish Edna by expulsion or in some very marked way, and she was not sorry to have it taken out of her hands. But the P. S. amused her very much:
“P. S. Hearing that you are far from particular about the social standing of your young ladies, I have less regret in removing my daughter than if you only kept aristocratic scholars, for I am very particular about my children’s associates.”
She handed the letter to Miss Blake, who read it with indignation, and then, supposing she was expected to do so, although Mrs. Abbott had not intended it, passed it on to Mrs. Jones.
“I declare!” said that lady, when, after some struggling with her spectacles, she had mastered the contents and read the signature, Mrs. B. J. Tryon, “Belindy Jones Tryon is coming on. I guess she forgets when her mother kept a bake-shop and she had to carry around rolls for customers’ breakfasts, and her brother—that’s my husband—was proud to be earning money getting out of bed at four o’clock to go around selling newspapers. He aint ashamed of his folks’ poverty. His sister is, and she’s ashamed of owning them, too!”
There was an immense sensation then, when some well-directed questions brought out the fact that the lofty-minded mother of their elegant, high-born Edna was really the sister-in-law of plain Mrs. Jones, the restaurant-keeper, and Edna herself was her niece, although it was quite possible that the knowledge had been kept from the young lady, for Mrs. Jones told them that long ago Mrs. Tryon had given up all association with her family when the worthy young carpenter, who had married her for her pretty face, by some lucky chance was taken into a building firm and found himself on the way to make his fortune.
The girls had promised themselves much fun in humbling Edna’s pride, and were disappointed on finding that she would not return.
“Not even,” said Mrs. Abbott, “if the English school be abandoned and her mother make an application to re-enter her here. I am sorry that she ever came here. Even if she had not brought upon us the misfortune of losing Elfie, I should deeply regret the influence she has exerted over some of my scholars—some, too, whom I supposed firm enough in their principles not to be betrayed into violating them.”
That was the only reproof Mrs. Abbott ever gave to those whose folly had helped to make much trouble. She had thought over the matter and talked over it with the teachers, and it seemed to her that by their distress at the evil consequences that had followed their wrong-doing they were already sorely punished.