Five Little Peppers at School

by Margaret Sidney

  XIV MISS SALISBURY'S STORY

  "Oh Miss Anstice!" cried the "Salisbury girls," jumping to their feet.

  "_Sister!_" exclaimed Miss Salisbury, dropping her plate, and lettingall her sweet, peaceful reflections fly to the four winds.

  "I never did regard picnics as pleasant affairs," gasped Miss Anstice,as the young hands raised her, "and now they are--quite--quitedetestable." She looked at her gown, alas! no longer immaculate.

  "If you could wipe my hands first, young ladies," sticking out thosemembers, on which were plentiful supplies of marmalade and jelly cake,"I should be much obliged. Never mind the gown yet," she added withasperity.

  "I'll do that," cried Alexia, flying at her with two or three napkins.

  "Alexia, keep your seat." Miss Anstice turned on her. "It is quite badenough, without your heedless fingers at work on it."

  "I NEVER DID REGARD PICNICS AS PLEASANT AFFAIRS," GASPEDMISS ANSTICE.]

  "I won't touch the old thing," declared Alexia, in a towering passion,and forgetting it was not one of the girls. "And I may be heedless, butI _can_ be polite," and she threw down the napkins, and turned her backon the whole thing.

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

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

  "Alexia, Alexia!" mourned Polly, and for the first time in Alexia'sremembrance 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 withlong steps back to the crowd of girls surrounding poor Miss Anstice,Miss Salisbury herself wiping the linen gown with an old napkin in herdeft 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 quiteenough; the gown cannot possibly be made any better with your incessantrubbing."

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

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

  All the blood in Alexia's body seemed to go to her sallow cheeks whenshe heard that. That she should be the first and only Salisbury girl tobe so bad, quite overcame her, and she looked around for Polly Pepper tohelp 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, eventhose who did not like Alexia one bit, feeling sorry for her now. MissAnstice relented enough to say, "Well, we will say no more about it; Idare say you did not intend to be impertinent." And then they all satdown again, and everybody tried to be as gay as possible while the feastwent on.

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

  "Now for the story--oh, that is the best of all!" exclaimed PollyPepper, 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 gladit is time for you to tell it." All of which pleased Miss Salisbury verymuch indeed, for it was the custom at this annual festival to wind upthe afternoon with a story by the principal, when all the girls wouldgather at her feet to listen to it, as she sat in state in her stonechair.

  "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 thisannual 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 ather feet, declared.

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

  "Oh--oh!"

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

  "Well, go back to your place, Fanny, and you shall hear a little of myschool 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 MissSalisbury, smiling; "it must be one little picture of my school days."

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

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

  "You see, girls, you must know to begin with, that our father--sister'sand mine--was a clergyman in a small country parish; and as there were agreat 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 andmeans 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.

  "Yes. Well, after talking it over a great deal,--and I suspect manysleepless nights spent by my good father and mother,--it was at lastdecided that I should be sent to boarding school; for I forgot to tellyou, I had finished at the academy."

  "Yes; sister was very smart," broke in Miss Anstice proudly--"she won'ttell you that; so I must."

  "Oh sister, sister," protested Miss Salisbury.

  "Yes, she excelled all the boys and girls."

  "Did they have boys at that school?" interrupted Philena, in amazement."Oh, how very nice, Miss Salisbury!"

  "I should just love to go to school with boys," declared ever so many ofthe girls ecstatically.

  "Why don't you take boys at our school, Miss Salisbury?" asked Silvialongingly.

  Miss Anstice looked quite horrified at the very idea; but Miss Salisburylaughed. "It is not the custom now, my dear, in private schools. In myday--you must remember that was a long time ago--there were academieswhere girls and boys attended what would be called a high school now."

  "Oh!"

  "And I went to one in the next town until it was thought best for me tobe sent to boarding school."

  "And she was very smart; she took all the prizes at the academy, and theprincipal said--" Miss Anstice was herself brought up quickly by hersister.

  "If you interrupt so much, I never shall finish my story, Anstice," shesaid.

  "I want the girls to understand this," said Miss Anstice with decision."The principal said she was the best educated scholar he had ever seengraduated from Hilltop Academy."

  "Well, now if you have finished," said Miss Salisbury, laughing, "I willproceed. So I was despatched by my father to a town about thirty milesaway, to a boarding school kept by the widow of a clergyman who had beena college classmate. Well, I was sorry to leave all my young brothersand sisters, you may be sure, while my mother--girls, I haven't even nowforgotten the pang it cost me to kiss my mother good-bye."

  Miss Salisbury stopped sud
denly, and let her gaze wander off to thewaving tree-tops; and Miss Anstice fell into a revery that kept her faceturned away.

  "But it was the only way I could get an education; and you know I couldnot be fitted for a teacher, which was to be my life work, unless Iwent; so I stifled all those dreadful feelings which anticipated myhomesickness, and pretty soon I found myself in the boarding school."

  "How many scholars were there, Miss Salisbury?" asked Laura Page, whowas very exact.

  "Fifteen girls," said Miss Salisbury.

  "Oh dear me, what a little bit of a school!" exclaimed one girl.

  "The schools were not as large in those days," said Miss Salisbury. "Youmust keep in mind the great difference between that time and this, mydear. Well, and when I was once there, I had quite enough to do to keepme from being homesick, I can assure you, through the day; because, inaddition to lessons, there was the sewing hour."

  "Sewing? Oh my goodness me!" exclaimed Alexia. "You didn't have to sewat that school, did you, Miss Salisbury?"

  "I surely did," replied Miss Salisbury, "and very glad I have been,Alexia, that I learned so much in that sewing hour. I have seriouslythought, sister and I, of introducing the plan into our school."

  "Oh, don't, Miss Salisbury," screamed the girls. "Ple--ase don't make ussew." Some of them jumped to their feet in distress.

  "I shall die," declared Alexia tragically, "if we have to sew."

  There was such a general gloom settled over the entire party that MissSalisbury hastened to say, "I don't think, girls, we can do it, becausesomething else equally important would have to be given up to make thetime." At which the faces brightened up.

  "Well, I was only to stay at this school a year," went on MissSalisbury, "because, you see, it was as much as my father could do topay for that time; so it was necessary to use every moment to advantage.So I studied pretty hard; and I presume this is one reason why theincident I am going to tell you about was of such a nature; for I wasover-tired, though that should be no excuse," she added hastily.

  "Oh sister," said Miss Anstice nervously, "don't tell them that story. Iwouldn't."

  "It may help them, to have a leaf out of another young person's life,Anstice," said Miss Salisbury, gravely.

  "Well, but--"

  "And so, every time when I thought I must give up and go home, I was sohungry to see my father and mother, and the little ones--"

  "Was Miss Anstice one of the little ones?" asked Fanny, with a curiouslook at the crow's-feet and faded eyes of the younger Miss Salisbury.

  "Yes, she was: there were two boys came in between; then Anstice, thenJane, Harriett, Lemuel, and the baby."

  "Oh my!" gasped Alexia, tumbling over into Polly Pepper's lap.

  "Eight of us; so you see, it would never do for the one who was havingso much money spent upon her, to waste a single penny of it. When I oncegot to teaching, I was to pay it all back."

  "And did you--did you?" demanded curious Fanny.

  "Did she?--oh, girls!" It was Miss Anstice who almost gasped this,making every girl turn around.

  "Never mind," Miss Salisbury telegraphed over their heads, to "sister,"which kept her silent. But she meant to tell sometime.

  Polly Pepper, all this time, hadn't moved, but sat with hands folded inher lap. What if she had given up and flown home to Mamsie and thelittle brown house before Mr. King discovered her homesickness andbrought Phronsie! Supposing she hadn't gone in the old stagecoach thatday when she first left Badgertown to visit in Jasper's home! Justsupposing it! She turned quite pale, and held her breath, while MissSalisbury proceeded.

  "And now comes the incident that occurred during that boarding-schoolyear, that I have intended for some time to tell you girls, because itmay perhaps help you in some experience where you will need the veryquality that I lacked on that occasion."

  "Oh sister!" expostulated Miss Anstice.

  "It was a midwinter day, cold and clear and piercing." Miss Salisburyshivered a bit, and drew the shawl put across the back of her stoneseat, closer around her. "Mrs. Ferguson--that was the name of theprincipal--had given the girls a holiday to take them to a neighboringtown; there was to be a concert, I remember, and some other treats; andthe scholars were, as you would say, 'perfectly wild to go,'" and shesmiled indulgently at her rapt audience. "Well, I was not going."

  "Oh Miss Salisbury!" exclaimed Amy Garrett in sorrow, as if thedisappointment were not forty years in the background.

  "No. I decided it was not best for me to take the money, although myfather had written me that I could, when the holiday had been plannedsome time before. And besides, I thought I could do some extra studyingahead while the girls were away. Understand, I didn't really think ofdoing wrong then; although afterward I did the wrong thing."

  "_Sister!_" reproved Miss Anstice. She could not sit still now, but gotout of her stone chair, and paced up and down.

  "No; I did not dream that in a little while after the party had started,I should be so sorely tempted, and the idea would enter my head to dothe wrong thing. But so it was. I was studying, I remember, myphilosophy lesson for some days ahead, when suddenly, as plainly as ifletters of light were written down the page, it flashed upon my mind,'Why don't I go home to-day? I can get back to-night, and no one willknow it; at least, not until I am back again, and no harm done.' Andwithout waiting to think it out, I clapped to my book, tossed it on thetable, and ran to get my poor little purse out of the bureau drawer."

  The girls, in their eagerness not to lose a word, crowded close to MissSalisbury's knees, forgetting that she wasn't a girl with them.

  "I had quite enough money, I could see, to take me home and back on thecars, and by the stage."

  "The stage?" repeated Alexia faintly.

  "Yes; you must remember that this time of which I am telling you wasmany, many years back. Besides, in some country places, it is still theonly mode of conveyance used."

  Polly Pepper drew a long breath. Dear old Badgertown, and Mr. Tisbett'sstage. She could see it now, as it looked when the Five Little Pepperswould run to the windows of the little brown house to watch it golumbering by, and to hear the old stage-driver crack his whip ingreeting!

  "The housekeeper had a day off, to go to her daughter's, so that helpedmy plan along," Miss Salisbury was saying. "Well would it have been forme if the conditions had been less easy. But I must hasten. I have toldyou that I did not pause to think; that was my trouble in those days: Iacted on impulse often, as schoolgirls are apt perhaps to do, and so Iwas not ready to stand this sudden temptation. I tied on my bonnet,gathered up my little purse tightly in my hand; and although the day wascold, the sun was shining brightly, and my heart was so full of hope andanticipation that I scarcely thought of what I was doing, as I took athin little jacket instead of the warm cloak my mother had made me forwinter wear. I hurried out of the house, when there was no one to noticeme, for the maids were careless in the housekeeper's absence, and hadslipped off for the moment--at any rate, they said afterward they neversaw me;--so off I went.

  "I caught the eight o'clock train just in time; which I considered mostfortunate. How often afterward did I wish I had missed it! And reasoningwithin myself as the wheels bore me away, that it was perfectly right tospend the money to go home, for my father had been quite willing for meto take the treat with Mrs. Ferguson and the others, I settled back inmy seat, and tried not to feel strange at travelling alone."

  "Oh dear me!" exclaimed the girls, huddling up closer to MissSalisbury's knees. Miss Anstice paced back and forth; it was too late tostop the story now, and her nervousness could only be walked off.

  "But I noticed the farther I got from the boarding school, little doubtswould come creeping into my mind,--first, was it very wise for me tohave set out in this way? then, was it right? And suddenly in a flash,it struck me that I was doing a very wrong thing, and that, if my fatherand my mother knew it, they would be greatly distressed. And I wouldhave given worlds, if I had possessed them, to be back at Mrs.Ferg
uson's, studying my philosophy lesson. And I laid my head on theback of the seat before me, and cried as hard as I could."

  Amy sniffed into her handkerchief, and two or three other girls coughedas if they had taken cold, while no one looked into her neighbor's face.

  "And a wild idea crossed my mind once, of rushing up to the conductorand telling him of my trouble, to ask him if I couldn't get off at thenext station and go back; but a minute's reflection told me that thiswas foolish. There was only the late afternoon train to take me to theschool. I had started, and must go on."

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

  "At last, after what seemed an age to me, though it wasn't really buthalf an hour since we started, I made up my mind to bear it as well as Icould; father and mother would forgive me, I was sure, and would makeMrs. Ferguson overlook it--when I glanced out of the car window. Littleflakes of snow were falling fast. It struck dismay to my heart. If itkept on like this,--and after watching it for some moments, I had noreason to expect otherwise, for it was of that fine, dry quality thatseems destined to last,--I should not be able to get back to school thatafternoon. Oh dear me! And now I began to open my heart to all sorts offears: the train might be delayed, the stagecoach slow in gettingthrough 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 theprincipal, forgetting that she had never before dared to do such a thingin 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 ofthat storm, knew nothing, heard nothing, except the occasionalejaculations and remarks of the passengers, such as, 'It's going to bethe worst storm of the year,' and 'It's come to stay.'

  "Suddenly, without a bit of warning, there was a bumping noise, then thetrain 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 topay 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 therewas great rushing to the doors, and hopping outside to ascertain thetrouble. I never knew, for I didn't care to ask. It was enough for methat something had broken, and the train had stopped; to start again noone could tell when."

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

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

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

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

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

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

  "Well, the conductor went on to say, that there was no telling,--therailroad officials never commit themselves, you know,--they hadtelegraphed back to town for another engine (he didn't mention that,after that, we should be sidetracked to allow other trains their rightof way), and as soon as they could, why, they would move. Then heproceeded to move himself down the aisle in great dignity. Well, mydears, you must remember that this all happened long years ago, whenaccidents to the trains were very slowly made good. We didn't get intoMayville until twelve o'clock. If everything had gone as it should, weought 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 heavystorm 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 otherssuffer; not my own distress."

  "Sister, if you only _won't_ proceed!" Miss Anstice abruptly leaned overthe 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, itseemed to me, more dead than alive. The old stage-driver, showing asmuch of his face as his big fur cap drawn well over his ears wouldallow, looked at me compassionately.

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

  "I was so stiff, all I could think of was, that I had turned into anicicle, and that I was liable to break at any minute. But I couldn't letthat 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; butoh, girls, I never loved anything so much in all my life as thathorrible 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 thestage-driver gruffly, handing it over to me where I sat on the middleseat. I needed no command, but fairly huddled myself within it, wrappingit around and around me. And then I knew by the time it took to warm meup, how very cold I had been.

  "And every few minutes of the toilsome journey, for we had to proceedvery slowly, the stage-driver would look back over his shoulder to say,'Be you gittin' any warmer now?' And I would say, 'Yes, thank you, alittle.'

  "And finally he asked suddenly, 'Do your folks know you're comin'?' AndI answered, 'No,' and I hoped he hadn't heard, and I pulled the cape uphigher around my face, I was so ashamed. But he had heard, for hewhistled; and oh, girls, that made my head sink lower yet. Oh my dears,the shame of wrong-doing is so terrible to bear!

  "Well, after a while we got into Cherryfield, along about half-pastthree o'clock."

  "Oh dear!" exclaimed the young voices.

  "I could just distinguish our church spire amid the whirling snow; andthen a panic seized me. I must get down at some spot where I would notbe recognized, for oh, I did not want any one to tell that oldstage-driver who I was, and thus bring discredit upon my father, theclergyman, for having a daughter who had come away from school withoutpermission. So I mumbled out that I was to stop at the Four Corners:that was a short distance from the centre of the village, the usualstopping place.

  "One of the passengers--for I didn't think it was necessary to prolongthe story to describe the two women who occupied the back seat--leanedforward and said, 'I hope, Mr. Cheesewell, you ain't goin' to let thatgirl get out, half froze as she's been, in this snowstorm. You'd oughtto go out o' your beat, and carry her home.'

  "'Oh, no--no,' I cried in terror, unwinding myself from the big cape andpreparing to descend.

  "'Stop there!' roared Mr. Cheesewell at me. 'Did ye s'pose I'd desertthat child?' he said to the two women. 'I'd take her home, ef I knewwhere in creation 'twas.'

  "'She lives at the parsonage--she's th' minister's daughter,' said oneof the women quietly.


  "I sank back in my seat--oh, girls, the bitterness of that moment!--andas well as I could for the gathering mist in my eyes, and the blindingstorm without, realized the approach to my home. But what a home-coming!

  "I managed to hand back the big cape, and to thank Mr. Cheesewell, thenstumbled up the little pathway to the parsonage door, feeling everystep a misery, with all those eyes watching me; and lifting the latch, Iwas at home!

  "Then I fell flat in the entry, and knew nothing more till I foundmyself in my own bed, with my mother's face above me; and beyond her,there was father."

  Every girl was sobbing now. No one saw Miss Anstice, with the tearsraining down her cheeks at the memory that the beautiful prosperity ofall these later years could not blot out.

  "Girls, if my life was saved in the first place by that old cape, it wassaved again by one person."

  "Your mother," gasped Polly Pepper, with wet, shining eyes.

  "No; my mother had gone to a sick parishioner's, and father was withher. There was no one but the children at home; the bigger boys wereaway. I owe my life really to my sister Anstice."

  "_Don't!_" begged Miss Anstice hoarsely, and trying to shrink away. Thecircle of girls whirled around to see her clasping her slender handstightly together, while she kept her face turned aside.

  "Oh girls," cried Miss Salisbury, with sudden energy, "if you couldonly understand what that sister of mine did for me! I never can tellyou. She kept back her own fright, as the small children were so scaredwhen they found me lying there in the entry, for they had all been inthe woodshed picking up some kindlings, and didn't hear me come in. Andshe thought at first I was dead, but she worked over me just as shethought mother would. You see we hadn't any near neighbors, so shecouldn't call any one. And at last she piled me all over with blanketsjust where I lay, for she couldn't lift me, of course, and tucked me intightly; and telling the children not to cry, but to watch me, she ran amile, or floundered rather--for the snow was now so deep--to thedoctor's house."

  "Oh, that was fine!" cried Polly Pepper, with kindling eyes, and turningher flushed face with pride on Miss Anstice. When Miss Salisbury sawthat, a happy smile spread over her face, and she beamed on Polly.

  "And then, you know the rest; for of course, when I came to myself, thedoctor had patched me up. And once within my father's arms, with motherholding my hand--why, I was forgiven."

  Miss Salisbury paused, and glanced off over the young heads, nottrusting herself to speak.

  "And how did they know at the school where you were?" Fanny broke inimpulsively.

  "Father telegraphed Mrs. Ferguson; and luckily for me, she and her partywere delayed by the storm in returning to the school, so the message washanded to her as she left the railroad station. Otherwise, my absencewould have plunged her in terrible distress."

  "Oh, well, it all came out rightly after all." Louisa Frink dropped herhandkerchief in her lap, and gave a little laugh.

  "_Came out rightly!_" repeated Miss Salisbury sternly, and turning sucha glance on Louisa that she wilted at once. "Yes, if you can forget thatfor days the doctor was working to keep me from brain fever; that ittook much of my father's hard-earned savings to pay him; that it kept mefrom school, and lost me the marks I had almost gained; that, worst ofall, it added lines of care and distress to the faces of my parents; andthat my sister who saved me, barely escaped a long fit of sickness fromher exposure."

  "Don't, sister, don't," begged Miss Anstice.

  "_Came out rightly_? Girls, nothing can ever come out rightly, unlessthe steps leading up to the end are right."

  "Ma'am,"--Mr. Kimball suddenly appeared above the fringe of girlssurrounding Miss Salisbury,--"there's a storm brewin'; it looks as if'twas comin' to stay. I'm all hitched up, 'n' I give ye my 'pinion thatwe'd better be movin'."

  With that, everybody hopped up, for Mr. Kimball's "'pinion" was law insuch a case. The picnic party was hastily packed into the barges,--Pollycarrying the little green botany case with the ferns for Phronsie'sgarden carefully on her lap,--and with many backward glances for thedear Glen, off they went, as fast as the horses could swing along.