Part 47

"Alexia!" cried Polly, turning very pale; and, rushing up to her, she bore her away under the trees. "Why, Alexia Rhys, you've talked awfully to Miss Anstice--just think, the sister of our Miss Salisbury!"

"Was that old thing a Salisbury?" asked Alexia, quite unmoved. "I thought it was a rude creature that didn't know what it was to have good manners."

"Alexia, Alexia!" mourned Polly, and for the first time in Alexia's remembrance wringing her hands, "to think you should do such a thing!"

Alexia, seeing Polly wring her hands, felt quite aghast at herself. "Polly, don't do that," she begged.

"Oh, I can't help it." And Polly's tears fell fast.

Alexia gave her one look, as she stood there quite still and pale, unable to stop the tears racing over her cheeks, turned, and fled with long steps back to the crowd of girls surrounding poor Miss Anstice, Miss Salisbury herself wiping the linen gown with an old napkin in her deft fingers.

"I beg your pardon," cried Alexia gustily, and plunging up unsteadily. "I was bad to say such things."

"You were, indeed," assented Miss Anstice tartly. "Sister, that is quite enough; the gown cannot possibly be made any better with your incessant rubbing."

Miss Salisbury gave a sigh, and got up from her knees, and put down the napkin. Then she looked at Alexia. "She is very sorry, sister," she said gently. "I am sure Alexia regrets exceedingly her hasty speech."

"Hasty?" repeated Miss Anstice, with acrimony, "it was quite impertinent; and I cannot remember when one of our young ladies has done such a thing."

All the blood in Alexia's body seemed to go to her sallow cheeks when she heard that. That she should be the first and only Salisbury girl to be so bad, quite overcame her, and she looked around for Polly Pepper to help her out. And Polly, who had followed her up to the group, begged, "Do, dear Miss Anstice, forgive her." And so did all the girls, even those who did not like Alexia one bit, feeling sorry for her now. Miss Anstice relented enough to say, "Well, we will say no more about it; I dare say you did not intend to be impertinent." And then they all sat down again, and everybody tried to be as gay as possible while the feast went on.

And by the time they sang the "Salisbury School Songs,"--for they had several very fine ones, that the different classes had composed,--there was such a tone of good humor prevailing, everybody getting so very jolly, that no one looking on would have supposed for a moment that a single unpleasant note had been struck. And Miss Anstice tried not to look at her gown; and Miss Salisbury had a pretty pink tinge in her cheeks, and her eyes were blue and serene, without the tired look that often came into them.

"Now for the story--oh, that is the best of all!" exclaimed Polly Pepper, when at last, protesting that they couldn't eat another morsel, they all got up from the feast, leaving it to the maids.

"Isn't it!" echoed the girls. "Oh, dear Miss Salisbury, I am so glad it is time for you to tell it." All of which pleased Miss Salisbury very much indeed, for it was the custom at this annual festival to wind up the afternoon with a story by the principal, when all the girls would gather at her feet to listen to it, as she sat in state in her stone chair.

"Is it?" she cried, the pink tinge on her cheek getting deeper. "Well, do you know, I think I enjoy, as much as my girls, the telling of this annual story."

"Oh, you can't enjoy it as much," said one impulsive young voice.

Miss Salisbury smiled indulgently at her. "Well, now, if you are ready, girls, I will begin."

"Oh, yes, we are--we are," the bright groups, scattered on the grass at her feet, declared.

"To-day I thought I would tell you of my school days when I was as young as you," began Miss Salisbury.

"Oh--oh!"

"Miss Salisbury, I just love you for that!" exclaimed the impulsive girl, and jumping out of her seat, she ran around the groups to the stone chair. "I do, Miss Salisbury, for I did so want to hear all about when you were a schoolgirl."

"Well, go back to your place, Fanny, and you shall hear a little of my school life," said Miss Salisbury gently.

"No--no; the whole of it," begged Fanny earnestly, going slowly back.

"My dear child, I could not possibly tell you the whole," said Miss Salisbury, smiling; "it must be one little picture of my school days."

"Do sit down, Fanny," cried one of the other girls impatiently; "you are hindering it all."

So Fanny flew back to her place, and Miss Salisbury without any more interruptions, began:

"You see, girls, you must know to begin with, that our father--sister's and mine--was a clergyman in a small country parish; and as there were a great many mouths to feed, and young, growing minds to feed as well, besides ours, why there was a great deal of considering as to ways and means constantly going on at the parsonage. Well, as I was the eldest, of course the question came first, what to do with Amelia."

"Were you Amelia?" asked Fanny.