“Why, I mean,” said she, “that somebody told me that Mrs. Green told them, that Major Pond’s wife told her, that Mary Downes said, that Nancy Rice heard Miss Cap’n Thompson say that you told Dr. Clayton you was sixteen!”
I knew that the subject of my age had not come up between me and the doctor, but it was useless to deny a story so well authenticated, so I said nothing, and Aunt Sally continued; “They do say you thrash ’em round about right,” while mother asked “who Dr. Clayton was?”
“Why, he’s a young pill-peddler, who’s taken a shine to Rosa, and staid with her alone in the schoolhouse until pitch dark,” said Aunt Sally, her little green eyes twinkling with the immense satisfaction she felt.
Greatly I marvelled as to the source whence she obtained the information, which so greatly exceeded the truth; and considering that no one knew of the doctor’s call but Mrs. Ross, it really was a wonder! She was proceeding with her remarks, when we were summoned to the supper table, where green tea had so good an effect upon her, that by the time she was blowing her third cup, she began to unbend, repeating to me several complimentary remarks which she said came from Mrs. Ross. By this I knew that she had Pine Hill as well as Meadow Brook upon her hands, and, indeed, ’twas strange how much Aunt Sally did manage to attend to at once; for, besides keeping her son’s wife continually fretted, and her daughter constantly quarrelling with her husband, by her foolish interference; there was scarcely a thing transpired in the neighborhood in which she did not have a part. Not a marriage was in prospect, but she knew something bad of both parties; not a family jar occurred in which she did not have a finger. Not a man owed more than he was worth, but she had foreseen it from the first in the extravagance of his wife. But everybody in Meadow Brook knew Aunt Sally, and it was a common saying, that “her tongue was no slander;” so I did not feel as much annoyed as I otherwise should at her spiteful remarks, which continued with little intermission until dark, when, gathering up her snuff-box, knitting, and work-bag, she started for home.
The next day was the Sabbath, and if at church, I did now and then cast a furtive glance at the congregation, to see if they were looking at me because I was a “schoolma’am,” it was a childish vanity, which I have long since forgiven, as I trust my reader will do. Among the audience was our minister’s young bride, and when, after church, he introduced her to me, saying to her, “This is Rose, who, I told you, was only thirteen and teaching school,” I felt quite reconciled to my lot, and thought that after all, it was an honor to be a teacher.
CHAPTER VI.
DR. CLAYTON’S VISIT.
Very slowly passed the days of my second week, for my mind was constantly dwelling upon the important Thursday, which came at last, and, with more than usual care, I dressed myself for school, sporting a pale blue and white muslin, which mother said I must wear only on great occasions. And this, to me, was a great occasion; and if, for want of a better mirror, I at noon went down to a clear spring in the woods, and there gave a few smoothing touches to my toilet, it was a weakness of which, in a similar way, many an older female has been guilty. On my return to the schoolhouse, I requested one of the larger girls to sweep the floor as clean as she possibly could, while two or three of the boys were sent after some green boughs to hang over the windows.
“I’ll bet we are going to have company; I thought so this morning when I see the schoolma’am all dressed up,” whispered one to another—and after a time, Jim Maxwell’s sister ventured to ask me, not who was coming, but “how many.”
With a blush, I replied, “Nobody but Dr. Clayton,” wondering why his name should cleave so to the roof of my mouth! In a few minutes, the fact that Dr. Clayton was coming was known both indoors and out, and when I saw how fast John Thompson took himself home, after learning the news, I involuntarily felt as if some evil were impending—a presentiment which proved correct, for not long after school commenced, there came a gentle rap at the outer door, which caused a great straightening up among the scholars, and brought me instantly to my feet, for I supposed, of course, he had come. What, then, was my surprise when, instead of him, I met a haughty-looking young lady, who, frowning majestically upon me, introduced herself as “Miss Thompson,” saying she had come to visit the school.
I had never before had so good a view of her, and now, when I saw how dignified she appeared, and that there really was in her manner something elegant and refined, I not only felt myself greatly her inferior, but I fancied that Dr. Clayton would also observe the difference between us when he saw us together. After offering her the seat of honor—my splint-bottomed chair—I proceeded with my duties as composedly as possible, mentally hoping that the doctor would come soon. She probably divined my thoughts, for once, when I cast a wistful glance over the long hill, she said, “You seem to be constantly on the lookout. Are you expecting any one?”