Читать книгу Katherine's Sheaves - Georgie Mrs. Sheldon - Страница 4

It was four o'clock in the afternoon on the opening day of the midwinter term at Hilton Seminary, a noted institution located in a beautiful old town of Western New York.

A group of gay girls had just gathered in one of the pleasant and spacious recreation rooms and were chattering like the proverbial flock of magpies—exchanging merry greetings after their vacation; comparing notes on studies, classes and roommates; discussing the advent of new teachers, pupils and improvements, when a tall, gracious woman of, perhaps, thirty-five years suddenly appeared in the doorway, her fair face gleaming with humorous appreciation of the animated scene and babel before her, and enjoined silence with the uplifting of one slim white hand.

There was an instantaneous hush, as the bevy of maidens turned their bright faces and affectionate glances upon their teacher, who, evidently, was a prime favorite with them all.

"What is it, Miss Reynolds? What can we do for you?" eagerly queried several of the group, as they sprang forward to ascertain her wishes.

"Is Miss Minturn in the room? I am looking for a new pupil who arrived this morning," the teacher responded, her genial, friendly blue eyes roving from face to face in search of the stranger to whom she had referred.

A young girl, who had been sitting by herself in a remote corner of the room, arose and moved towards the speaker.

"I am Katherine Minturn," she said, with quiet self-possession, yet flushing slightly beneath the many curious glances bent upon her, as her soft, brown eyes met the smiling blue ones.

She was, apparently, about nineteen years of age, a little above medium height, her form slight but almost perfect in its proportions. A wealth of hair, matching the color of her eyes, crowned a small, shapely head, and contrasted beautifully with a creamy complexion, the delicacy of which was relieved chiefly by the vivid scarlet of her lips. Her features were clear-cut and very attractive—at least so thought Miss Reynolds as she studied the symmetrical brow, the large, thoughtful eyes, the tender mouth and prettily rounded chin curving so gracefully into the white, slender neck.

"Ah! Miss Minturn. I have had quite a search for you," she said, reaching out a cordial hand to her; for, despite the girl's self- poise, she had caught a quiver of loneliness on the expressive face. "I am Miss Reynolds, the teacher of mathematics, and I have been commissioned by Prof. Seabrook to find and show you to his study. But first, let me present you to these chatterers."

She dropped the hand that was trembling in her clasp, and, slipping a reassuring arm about the girl's waist, continued:

"Young ladies, this is Miss Minturn, a new junior. I can't present each of you formally, for she is wanted immediately elsewhere; but I will see that she finds you all out later."

Katherine nodded a smiling acknowledgment to the vigorous clapping of hands and the hearty "Welcome, Miss Minturn, to Hilton." Then Miss Reynolds led her away, and the interrupted chatter of the magpies was resumed with redoubled animation, but now the new junior absorbed the attention of everyone.

"Say, girls, isn't she a dear?" "Came this morning, did she? where from, I wonder?" "My! but wasn't that a nobby traveling suit, and such a fit!" "Katherine Minturn—pretty name, isn't it?" "Does anybody know anything more about her?" were some of the comments and queries that slipped from those supple instruments with a tendency towards perpetual motion, which, sometimes, are described as organs that are hung in the middle and wag at both ends— school-girls' tongues.

"Hush!—sh!—sh! Oh, girls, do ring off, and perhaps I can give you a point or two," cried a high-pitched voice with an unmistakable Southern drawl, as a somewhat overdressed girl of nineteen or twenty years re-enforced her appeal by vigorous gestures to attract attention, whereupon the ever alert spirit of Curiosity silenced every loquacious chatterer, except one who solemnly announced, "Ladies, Miss Minot has the floor!"

"Yes," the speaker observed, "the new junior does strike one as being downright stunning. She came from New York City, and"—with a lugubrious sigh—"though I've never set eyes on her before, I was informed this morning that she is to be my roommate for the remainder of the year."

A burst of mirthful laughter rippled over a dozen pairs of rosy lips at this last mournfully conveyed information.

"Aha! at last Miss Sadie Minot has got to come down to the lot of common mortals and take in a chum!" cried a merry sprite, with a saucy chuckle. "Oh, how you have spread yourself and luxuriated in your solitary magnificence, and how every mother's daughter of us has envied you your spacious quarters! Well, you know what old Sol. said about 'pride' and a 'haughty spirit,' and the 'fall' always comes, first or last. But, Sadie, my love, be comforted," she continued, with mock sympathy, "and just try to realize what splendid discipline it will be for you; one cannot have everything one wants, you know, even if one is an heiress in one's own right- -eh, dearie?"

"But there's only one closet, and it is so full now," sighed Miss

Minot, ruefully.

"Hear! hear!" retorted the same mischievous maiden, whose name was Clara Follet. "After having had undisturbed possession of a whole room and closet for six long months she ungratefully bemoans——"

"And only one chest of drawers," pursued Sadie, in the same strain, but with a comical quirk of an eye.

A chorus of mocking groans and derisive laughter greeted this wail.

"And all four crammed full with her superfluous finery," cried another of the merry group. "Whatever will you do with it now, Sadie?"

"I'm sure I don't know, Ollie," retorted the pretty "heiress," with a quizzical uplifting of her brows, "unless you take half of it off my hands altogether, instead of coming to borrow so often."

Shrieks of appreciative mirth followed this deftly shot arrow, for it was a well-known fact that Ollie Grant, the pet of the school, was an easy-going little body, very prone to allow her wardrobe to get in a sad plight and then throw herself upon the mercy of others, to patch her up, in the event of an emergency.

But Miss Ollie was equal to the occasion.

"Really, Sadie, that would help you out, wouldn't it? and save me a lot of trotting back and forth," she demurely responded, though the dimples played a lively game of hide-and-seek in her plump cheeks. "There's such a love of a lace jacket in her second drawer, girls; my eyes water with envy every time I get a glimpse of it; and a few of those ravishing stocks that you've been laying in of late wouldn't come amiss. There's that lavender satin waist, too, you bought at Jerome's the other day. I know I should look perfectly killing in it; and—oh! ye Hiltonites!—she has just bought six of the sweetest corset covers you ever laid eyes on; think of it!—six! She could spare three just as well as not, and I'm sure she has at least a dozen pairs of silk stockings, while"- -with a doleful sigh—"I don't own a blessed one. Then there are ribbons and laces, fans and handkerchiefs galore. Don't you think it would be an act of mercy if I would agree to take some of these superfluities off her hands, rather than have them ruthlessly crushed into half their allotted space? And—"

"Ollie! Ollie!—what an incorrigible little tease you are!" laughingly interposed Miss Minot, as she playfully tweaked the girl's ear. "I wonder how long the things would last you if you had them all!"

"Oh, probably two or three times wearing around, providing they didn't come to mending before that," mused the "Pet," with a speculative look in her blue eyes, but with a quiver of the dimples that evoked another paroxysm of laughter from her audience. "But I say, Sadie," she went on with the next breath, "Miss Minturn is a downright sweet-looking girl, and I'll wager a- -a darning needle against a pair of those silk stockings you'll find her O. K. Maybe she'll let you have an extra drawer and a hook or two in the closet."

"I don't feel very hopeful, so I won't take you up," sighed Sadie; "for when I came in from my walk I saw a big trunk, with 'K. M.' on it, in the hall, and it looks to me as if I—I'm destined to go through a different kind of 'cramming' process this year, in addition to the usual one."

This self-inflicted shot now turned the laugh again upon the speaker, for it was an open secret that the Southern heiress dearly loved her ease and took it, up to the last moment, then had to "cram for all she was worth" to get ready for "exams."

While this chatter and fun were going on in the recreation room,

Katherine Minturn had been conducted to the study of Prof.

Seabrook, by whom she was received with his customary courtesy.

The principal of Hilton Seminary was a distinguished-appearing gentleman of fifty years, possessing a strong, intellectual, yet refined face, whose chief charm was a pair of large, expressive blue-gray eyes that could be most winningly kind, or most coldly and blightingly stern, as the case might be.

"Be seated, Miss Minturn," he courteously commanded, as Miss Reynolds excused herself and withdrew, and indicating a chair near the table by which he had been sitting when she entered.

Katherine obeyed, feeling strongly attracted to the man by his genial manner, even though she knew that his keen but friendly eyes were intent upon reading what lay beneath her exterior.

"I suppose you feel that you have had rather a hard day," he continued, glancing significantly at some closely written sheets which he had evidently been looking over when she entered, and which she instantly recognized as her examination papers.

"Not at all," she quietly returned, lifting her clear eyes to him, and he marveled at the unclouded serenity in their pure depths.

"Indeed!" and he could not quite conceal his surprise. "It is a rare event for a young lady to make such an admission after a rigid ordeal like what you have sustained this afternoon. However, I am happy to inform you that you are unconditionally admitted to the junior class; your papers do you great credit, Miss Minturn. I had not expected quite so much from you, as you had told me that you left school last year, a sophomore, and have been traveling abroad until recently. I feared we might have to ask you to review a little, for it is rather unusual for a pupil to enter an advanced class in the middle of the year."

"But I have not been idle since leaving school," Katherine replied, a happy gleam in her eyes, for his commendation was very gratifying to her; "although we were abroad for several months, we were often located in some place for weeks at a time, and mamma, having once been a teacher at Vassar, coached me for the junior class."

"Ah! that explains your proficiency. How convenient to have an ex- Vassar in the family!" Prof. Seabrook smilingly observed. "All the same, I am sure the daughter deserves some commendation for work conscientiously done."

"Thank you, sir," said Katherine, a flush of pleasure tingeing her cheeks.

The principal then proceeded to give her some information regarding her classes and the ground to be covered in her various studies during the coming term, after which he asked some questions as to her recent travels, whereupon they fell into a pleasant chat about points of interest which both had visited, and thus a delightful half hour slipped away. At length Prof. Seabrook referred to a book that lay on the table beside him, and observed:

"I find, Miss Minturn, that you are to room with Miss Sadie Minot, a young lady from Atlanta, Georgia, and I think you will find her an agreeable companion. However"—with a humorous twinkle in his eyes—"to use a homely proverb, 'it is Hobson's choice,' for it happens to be the only vacancy in the building; we have a very full school this year. I will call some one to show you how to find it, and have your trunk sent up later."

He touched a bell and presently a young girl about sixteen entered the room, with a brisk step and an alert air, suggestive of a repressed cyclone only awaiting an opportunity for mischief brewing; while, as she approached the occupants, a strong odor of peppermint made itself apparent in the atmosphere.

"Miss Minturn, this is Miss Wild, one of our breezy freshmen—eh, Jennie?" and the quizzical look again leaped into the blue-gray eyes.

Katherine smilingly acknowledged the introduction, while Miss Wild blushed and nodded an embarrassed greeting, then immediately turned her face away from the focus of the professor's observation and made a comical grimace which came very near proving too much for Katherine's dignity.

"Jennie," the gentleman continued, "Miss Minturn is to share Miss Minot's room—number fifteen, west wing—and I have called you to show her the way, if you please."

"Yes, sir, I will," said the girl, with ready compliance, which culminated in a vigorous sneeze, whereupon, with the restless energy which pervaded her every movement, she whisked her handkerchief from her pocket, and, with it, there shot out a promiscuous assortment of chocolates and cream peppermints, which went bounding and rolling about the room in every direction.

Prof. Seabrook gave vent to a hearty laugh of amusement at the awkward contretemps.

"I thought I detected a familiar odor, Jennie," he observed; then added, good-naturedly, "You may pick them up, if you please."

"Guess I will," she returned, eagerly, and nimbly suiting the action to her words. "I really can't afford to lose all that precious sweetness. Josie Craig gave them to me just as you rang."

Katherine had risen and was moving towards the door, to cover her own inclination to explode, and thus make the situation more awkward for the girl, when the principal checked her by remarking:

"By the way, Miss Minturn, the juniors and seniors attend the Bible class, which it is my province to conduct. We meet at four on Sunday afternoons in the south recitation room; and the lesson for next Sabbath will be on the Creation, as given in the first chapter of Genesis. And this reminds me that I have neglected to inquire where you will attend church. As our catalogue states, each student is allowed to choose her own place of worship. Where do you propose to make your church home?"

Katherine had expected this question before; nevertheless, she flushed slightly as she turned back to face her interlocutor, and replied:

"I am a Christian Scientist, Prof. Seabrook, and I shall attend the church on Grove Street."

The pause which followed this announcement was painfully ominous, and Katherine was amazed at the frozen look which suddenly settled over the gentleman's face, together with the expression of stern disapprobation which instantly drove all the kindness out of his hitherto genial eyes. "A Christian Scientist!—indeed!" he said, in a tone as frigid as his look. "It is a matter of regret to me that you did not state that fact when you made application for admission to Hilton."

Katherine's lip quivered slightly at this caustic remark and the accompanying scorn on the high-bred face; and the flush which had risen to her cheek a moment before vanished, leaving her quite pale, although in no way disconcerted.

"But I believe the catalogue states that there is no sectarianism in Hilton Seminary, that the broadest possible religious tolerance prevails here," she remarked, with a sweet gentleness which, under any other circumstances, would have instantly disarmed her companion.

But, as it happened, he was a bitter opponent of the "false doctrine," and the term "Science" applied to Christianity was a rank offense to his rigid Presbyterian opinions, as was also the fact that a woman had dared to face the world with it!

"I do not recognize Christian Science, so-called, as a religion," he retorted, with a sharpness in marked contrast to Katherine's sweetness. "In my opinion, it is simply a device and snare of Satan himself to deceive the very elect; and Miss Minturn"—this with frowning emphasis—"I will not, for a moment, tolerate the promulgation of its fallacious teachings in this school. I trust I make myself understood."

Katherine had not once removed her clear, brown eyes from his countenance during this speech, but there was not the slightest manifestation of resentment on her own—only an expression of tender regret, as if she were sorry for him, because of the sense of discord that seemed to hold possession of him.

"You mean that I am not to talk it here?" she said.

"Exactly; nor flaunt it in any way."

"I will not, sir," with gentle gravity; then a little smile curving her red lips, she added: "Christian Science, Prof. Seabrook, is a religion of Love, and I will simply try to live it."

The principal of Hilton flushed to his brows before this unassuming girl, a circumstance unprecedented in the annals of the institution.

Her look, her tone, the softly spoken words—all radiated love, and his arrogant spirit felt the gentle rebuke.

"Have you that book, 'Science and Health,' with you?" he curtly demanded.

Katherine's heart leaped within her. Did he mean to deprive her of her daily bread?

"Yes, sir," with unfaltering glance and voice.

"Then keep it out of sight," he briefly commanded, adding, in a tone of dismissal, as he took up his pen: "That is all, Miss Minturn."

Katherine bowed respectfully, then quietly followed Jennie Wild from the room.