Involuntarily my eyes sought hers, but I quailed beneath their quizzical expression, and scarcely knowing what I said, replied, “No, ma’am,” repenting the falsehood the moment it was uttered, and half-resolving to confess the truth, when she rejoined, “Oh, I thought you were,” while at the same moment a little girl, who had been asleep, rolled from her seat, bumping her head, and raising such an outcry that, for a time, I forgot what I had said, and when it again recurred to me I thought it was too late to rectify it. It was the second falsehood I remembered telling, and it troubled me greatly. Turn it which way I would it was a lie still, and it smote heavily upon my conscience. Slowly the afternoon dragged on, but it brought no Dr. Clayton; and when, at a quarter of four, I called up my class of Abecedarians to read, what with the lie and the disappointment, my heart was so full that I could not force back all the tears which struggled so fiercely for egress; and when it came Willie Randall’s turn to read, two or three large drops fell upon his chubby hand, and, looking in my face, he called out in a loud, distinct voice—“You’re cryin’, you be!”
This, of course, brought a laugh from all the scholars, in which I was fain to join, although I felt greatly chagrined that I should have betrayed so much weakness before Dell Thompson, who, in referring to it when school was out, said, “she supposed I wanted to see my mother, or somebody!”
The sarcastic smile which dimpled the corners of her mouth angered me, and when, at last, I was alone, my long pent-up tears fell in copious showers. It is my misfortune never to be able to cry without disfiguring my face, so that it is sometimes almost hideous to look upon; and now, as I slowly walked home, I carefully kept my parasol lowered, so that no one should see me. But I could not elude the vigilance of Mrs. Ross, who, as usual, was at her post in the doorway. Although I knew she was a dangerous woman, I rather liked her, for there was, to me, something winning in her apparent friendliness, and we had come to be quite intimate, so much so that I usually called there on my way to or from school; but now, when she bade me come in, I declined, which act brought her at once to the gate, where she obtained a full view of my swollen features.
“Laws a mercy!” she exclaimed, “what’s up now? Why, you look like a toad. What’s the matter?”
“Nothing much,” I said, and this was all she could solicit from me.
That night she called at Mr. Randall’s, and after sitting awhile, asked me “to walk a little piece with her.” I saw there was something on her mind, and conjecturing that it might have some connection with me, I obeyed willingly, notwithstanding Mrs. Randall’s silent attempts to keep me back. Twitching my sleeve when we were outside the gate, Mrs. Ross asked if “it were true that I cried because Dr. Clayton didn’t come as he promised?”
“Why, what do you mean?” I said. To which she replied, by telling me that after I left her, she just ran in to Cap’n Thompson’s a minute or two, when, who should she find there but Dr. Clayton, and when Dell told him she’d been to visit the school, he said, “Ah, indeed, I was intending to do so myself this afternoon, but I was necessarily detained by a very sick patient.”
“‘That explains why she cried so,’ said Dell, and then,” continued Mrs. Ross, “she went on to tell him how you looked out of the winder, and when she asked you if you expected anybody, you said ‘No,’ and then at last you cried right out in the school.”
“The mean thing!” I exclaimed. “Did she tell Dr. Clayton all that?”
“Yes, she did,” answered Mrs. Ross; “and it made my blood bile to hear her go on makin’ fun of you, that is, kinder makin’ fun.”