Helen Grant's Schooldays Part 23

"Not many. A week in New York and the pretty places and wonders thereabout."

"New York is a marvel by itself. And I've never been there," sighing. "I suppose I may be cla.s.sed as a Westerner. The western part of the State.

I know several of those cities and Niagara Falls and the Canada side; we were there two months ago. I _did_ manage to squeeze in, but the girls didn't want me a bit. Papa managed that," exultingly.

Helen had been studying Miss Mays' attire. Her gray frock and coat were just the thing, and her gray felt hat trimmed with scarlet and a bright wing. So she put it on and was ready.

"You can learn a good deal by watching other people," Mrs. Van Dorn had said. "And it is bad taste to make yourself conspicuous."

As they stepped out in the hall several others joined them. Mrs. Aldred nodded to them as they pa.s.sed out.

"Did you see those two girls on the veranda? They look like twins and might almost as well be. They are fifteen, birthdays only a week apart.

Mothers are sisters, and the fathers cousins. Alice and Annie Otis. They both have light hair, but one has darker eyes than the other. And the blue-eyed one is a little stouter. They are to room together."

"Roxy Mays, I don't see how you find out so much about everybody," said one of the group.

"By using my eyes and ears. One of them told part of this to Miss Grace, and the mother of Annie explained the rest to Mrs. Aldred, but I don't know which Annie is. I'll guess it is the plump one with a dimple in her chin. They have never been away at school before. You can tell that by their half-frightened look."

"Did I look half frightened?" inquired Helen, mirthfully, glancing around.

"I must say you did not. And we descended upon you so unceremoniously.

It might be admissible to ask what you thought of us."

"That it was very kind of you to call on me. I should have felt much more strange if I had speculated all the evening and seen you first this morning."

"Now you see the benefit of rus.h.i.+ng in where angels fear to tread. You were placed in our neighborhood, and we have been neighborly."

"I thank you very much," Helen returned gravely.

Elm Avenue ran straight down in the town, down to the river, indeed. But the beauty of Westchester was its main street that intersected this and ran parallel with the river about a quarter of a mile below the school, and was called Center Street. It had all that was of the most account in the town, the Court House, a fine building, a public hall with offices on the lower floor, two very pretty churches with their parsonages, several stores, post-office, and bank, and at both ends handsome residences with well-kept grounds. Being the county town, at autumn and spring it displayed a rather busy aspect; the rest of the time was given over to very delightful, refined social living. There had been some doubts at first as to whether a girls' boarding-school would not disturb the serene aspect, but it was not large enough, and kept very well in hand.

From Center Street, streets and avenues branched out both ways. These were substantially built up with large grounds and handsome gardens on the east side, stretching out finally to farms, and on the west running down to the river, that being broken by rifts and rather dangerous places, was hardly navigable for general business, though small sloops ventured up when the river was not too low. A mile further down was a bed of clay and a brick-yard, and two or three factories with a sort of hamlet. Three miles below were large iron-works. The railroad ran along the river, and left the town to its beauty and comparative quiet.

It was, in its surroundings, much handsomer than North Hope, and the style of homes betokened both wealth and culture, a town whose ways were settled, a town of the better cla.s.s who had not to consider the ordinary chances of making money. Several of the houses were shut up in the winter, while their occupants went to the city for the season. Those who remained at home entertained themselves with various amateur diversions.

There was a fine musical club that gave two or three concerts through the winter; another that had a course of lectures, and the churches gave fairs and sociables. The four denominations were represented, but the Presbyterians were the largest, oldest and most influential.

The small river was spanned by a number of pretty rustic bridges, and emptied into the greater one that divided it from the neighboring State, whose wooded heights and rocky bluffs were most picturesque. There were only occasional houses, though down at the brick-yard a small settlement was begun. And already the sun was throwing long shadows from the densest woods, where firs, cedars, and hemlock were almost black against the beeches and hickories, even now turning yellow at the point of the long leaves; chestnuts with the brown fringes of bloom that bore no fruit still hanging to them. Here and there a pile of rocks, gray and brown and dotted with glistening gems, it would seem, there were points that sparkled so. There a hollow that might be a dryad's cave, bunches of sumac in autumnal gorgeousness, tangles of wild growth, blackberry with its deep red leaves, cat-briar still green and glossy, and the confusion of wild woodland growth.

"Oh, how beautiful it is!" Helen exclaimed involuntarily.

"Where are you viewing the universe?"

"Over beyond the river. Do you ever go there?"

"Oh, yes, we row across. The school owns a boat. It is supposed to be good exercise, but it does blister your hands. There is a bridge farther up there, now you can see it."

The church spire had hidden it from view, but it was just a plain, partly-covered structure.

"We went over for our picnic. There are swamps of rhododendrons, and mountain laurel. That is beautiful even in the winter if you are fond of such things. Never mind them to-day. There will be some rambles over there presently. Let us look nearer home. What are you, religiously?"

Helen flushed. Was she really religious at all?

"I mean what denomination claims your family? We generally follow in their footsteps."

"Presbyterian," with a hesitating sound in her voice.

"Then this will be your church. Mrs. Aldred is a member here, and Miss Grace, but curiously enough Miss Gertrude leans toward Episcopacy, and she plays some of the old ma.s.ses in a way that almost sweeps you along in her current. She is to be an artist. Last winter she was in New York taking lessons, and she teaches painting, but we haven't a very artistic lot of girls I think. Mr. Danforth is the clergyman here. You will like him I guess. My people are Methodists. That is my church 'way down below, but I often go there."

"Oh, let us get on to the stores," said one of the group. "Let me see--there are five of us. I'll treat to-day, that will make us five weeks going round. Only on Sat.u.r.days, mind."

They pa.s.sed the bank, a very modest building with law offices on the second floor. Then the Court House, which was quite imposing, and a row of stores, larger and finer than those in Hope. An inviting ice-cream parlor with a rustic garden at the side, divided into vine-covered booths, claimed their attention, and they sauntered in, seating themselves nonchalantly.

CHAPTER XI

SCHOOL IN EARNEST

On Monday the real work of school began. Besides the boarding scholars, was a day-school of the young ladies and larger girls, who were either sent away or went to Aldred House. There was an excellent school for the little ones, and a very good public school, but Westchester did not take cordially to this except for the boys.

Two of the teachers had arrived on Sat.u.r.day evening. Madame Meran, the French teacher, who also gave music lessons to the younger pupils, and Miss Lane, who taught Latin and German to the few who desired it, and had dreams of college life. Mrs. Aldred made no specialty of this, but some of the pupils insisted on remaining until that time. There were two divisions in the senior cla.s.s, two in the junior. Helen was glad that Daisy Bell was in the B. division. She was not as gay as Roxy Mays, but there was a quality of tenderness in her that was very attractive.

She was not quite sure that she would desire to make a warm friend of Miss Mays though on Friday evening her whole heart had gone out to her.

She could turn any subject into ridicule so easily, she could seize on small foibles and distort them with such a winsome grace that they were amusing at the time, but when one thought them over afterward one saw the little stings that were left behind.

It was so different from anything Helen had dreamed of. At first she thought she would have been happier going to the Hope High School and working her way through. There was a feeling that she did not truly and honestly belong in this circle of girls, many of whom had rich fathers and luxurious homes; and she wondered if some day she would come to have the careworn and unsatisfied look that Miss Lane had. Miss Lane had taught ten years, beginning when she was nineteen. So she was twenty-nine.

"And I do not believe she has ever had a lover," said Miss Mays. "She looks so."

"What kind of a look is that?" questioned someone.

"Why that discontented, hungry expression, that curious alertness, as if you were looking for something that had never come, and you were afraid never would. Girls, if I had to live until I was twenty-nine unmarried----"

"Well, what then?" queried three or four voices.

"I'd find some way of finis.h.i.+ng it out at twenty-five."

"Oh, you couldn't," cried Daisy, shocked.

"Well, there are sisterhoods in churches and they are very respectable.

My great-aunt Roxalana has been married twice, both times to rich men.

She's eighty-six now and looks like a fright, though it is said she was a very pretty young woman. It's safe to say that when your compeers are all dead. Oh, I do hope I will never outlive my beauty."

They all laughed at that.

Days were divided up like clock-work. You were called at six while the mornings were light. Breakfast was at seven. At eight there was a study period. Quarter before nine they a.s.sembled in the small seated room called the chapel, by courtesy, and at nine went into the schoolroom. At eleven they had ten minutes' recreation, then study until twelve; an hour for luncheon, and two hours' study and recitation again. Two afternoons a week music lessons. Dinner from five to six; from seven to nine study period, unless one could get through sooner.

Helen thought this first day that she had never really studied in her life. She had a quick memory, at least, so it had always seemed, and an absolute genius for mathematics. History, as far as she had gone, was a delight. But the Latin! Was there any sense in it? Did the old Romans talk in that tongue? And what was the use of it now, when Rome itself was Italian.