Part 50

A long sigh went through the group. Miss Anstice seemed to have it communicated to her, for she quickened her pace nervously.

"At last, after what seemed an age to me, though it wasn't really but half an hour since we started, I made up my mind to bear it as well as I could; father and mother would forgive me, I was sure, and would make Mrs. Ferguson overlook it--when I glanced out of the car window. Little flakes of snow were falling fast. It struck dismay to my heart. If it kept on like this,--and after watching it for some moments, I had no reason to expect otherwise, for it was of that fine, dry quality that seems destined to last,--I should not be able to get back to school that afternoon. Oh dear me! And now I began to open my heart to all sorts of fears: the train might be delayed, the stagecoach slow in getting through to Cherryfield. By this time I was in a fine state of nerves, and did not dare to think further."

One of the girls stole her hand softly up to lay it on that of the principal, forgetting that she had never before dared to do such a thing in all her life. Miss Salisbury smiled, and closed it within her own.

There was a smothered chorus of "Oh dears!"

"I sat there, my dears, in a misery that saw nothing of the beauty of that storm, knew nothing, heard nothing, except the occasional ejaculations and remarks of the passengers, such as, 'It's going to be the worst storm of the year,' and 'It's come to stay.'

"Suddenly, without a bit of warning, there was a bumping noise, then the train dragged slowly on, then stopped. All the passengers jumped up, except myself. I was too miserable to stir, for I knew now that I was to pay finely for my wrong-doing in leaving the school without permission."

"Oh--oh!" the girls gave a little scream.

"'What is it--what is it?' the passengers one and all cried, and there was great rushing to the doors, and hopping outside to ascertain the trouble. I never knew, for I didn't care to ask. It was enough for me that something had broken, and the train had stopped; to start again no one could tell when."

The sympathy and excitement now were intense. One girl sniffed out from behind her handkerchief, "I--I should have--thought you would--have died--Miss Salisbury."

"Ah!" said Miss Salisbury, with a sigh, "you will find, Helen, as you grow older, that the only thing you can do to repair in any way the mischief you have done, is to keep yourself well under control, and endure the penalty without wasting time on your suffering. So I just made up my mind now to this; and I sat up straight, determined not to give way, whatever happened.

"It was very hard when the impatient passengers would come back into the car to ask each other, 'How soon do you suppose we will get to Mayville?' That was where I was to take the stage.

"'Not till night, if we don't start,' one would answer, trying to be facetious; but I would torture myself into believing it. At last the conductor came through, and he met a storm of inquiries, all asking the same question, 'How soon will we get to Mayville?'

"It seemed to me that he was perfectly heartless in tone and manner, as he pulled out his watch to consult it. I can never see a big silver watch to this day, girls, without a shiver."

The "Salisbury girls" shivered in sympathy, and tried to creep up closer to her.

"Well, the conductor went on to say, that there was no telling,--the railroad officials never commit themselves, you know,--they had telegraphed back to town for another engine (he didn't mention that, after that, we should be sidetracked to allow other trains their right of way), and as soon as they could, why, they would move. Then he proceeded to move himself down the aisle in great dignity. Well, my dears, you must remember that this all happened long years ago, when accidents to the trains were very slowly made good. We didn't get into Mayville until twelve o'clock. If everything had gone as it should, we ought to have reached there three hours before."

"Oh my goodness me!" exploded Alexia.

"By this time, the snow had piled up fast. What promised to be a heavy storm had become a reality, and it was whirling and drifting dreadfully. You must remember that I had on my little thin jacket, instead--"

"Oh Miss Salisbury!" screamed several girls, "I forgot that."

"Don't tell any more," sobbed another--"don't, Miss Salisbury."

"I want you to hear this story," said Miss Salisbury quietly. "Remember, I did it all myself. And the saddest part of it is what I made others suffer; not my own distress."

"Sister, if you only won't proceed!" Miss Anstice abruptly leaned over the outer fringe of girls.

"I am getting on to the end," said Miss Salisbury, with a smile. "Well, girls, I won't prolong the misery for you. I climbed into that stage, it seemed to me, more dead than alive. The old stage-driver, showing as much of his face as his big fur cap drawn well over his ears would allow, looked at me compassionately.

"'Sakes alive!' I can hear him now. 'Hain't your folks no sense to let a young thing come out in that way?'

"I was so stiff, all I could think of was, that I had turned into an icicle, and that I was liable to break at any minute. But I couldn't let that criticism pass.

"'They--they didn't let me--I've come from school,' I stammered.

"He looked at me curiously, got up from his seat, opened a box under it, and twitched out a big cape, moth-eaten, and well-worn otherwise; but oh, girls, I never loved anything so much in all my life as that horrible old article, for it saved my life."

A long-drawn breath went around the circle.

"'Here, you just get into this as soon as the next one,' said the stage-driver gruffly, handing it over to me where I sat on the middle seat. I needed no command, but fairly huddled myself within it, wrapping it around and around me. And then I knew by the time it took to warm me up, how very cold I had been.