Five Little Peppers at School Part 57

Just about this time, Alexia Rhys was rus.h.i.+ng to school. She was late, for everything had gone wrong that morning from the very beginning. And of course Polly Pepper had started for school, when Alexia called for her; and feeling as if nothing mattered now, the corner was reached despairingly, when she heard her name called.

It was an old lady who was a friend of her aunt's, and Alexia paused involuntarily, then ran across the street to see what was wanted.

"Oh, my dear, I suppose I ought not to stop you, for you are going to school."

"Oh, it doesn't matter," said Alexia indifferently; "I'm late anyway.

What is it, Miss Seymour?"

"I want to congratulate you--I _must_ congratulate you," exclaimed old Miss Seymour, with an excited little cackle. "I really must, Alexia."

Alexia ran over in her mind everything for which she could, by any possibility, be congratulated; and finding nothing, she said, "What for?" quite abruptly.

"Oh, my dear! Haven't you heard?" Old Miss Seymour put her jewelled fingers on the girl's shoulder. She had gathered up her dressy morning robe in her hand, and hastened down her front steps at the first glimpse of Alexia across the way.

Alexia knew of old the roundabout way pursued by her aunt's friend in her narrations. Besides, she cared very little anyway for this bit of old women's gossip. So she said carelessly, "No, I'm sure I haven't; and I don't believe it's much anyway, Miss Seymour."

"'Much anyway?' oh, my dear!" Old Miss Seymour held up both hands.

"Well, what would you say if you should be told that your teacher was going to be married?"

Alexia staggered backward and put up both hands. "Oh, don't, Miss Seymour," she cried, the fears she had been lighting so many weeks now come true. Then she burst out pa.s.sionately, "Oh, it isn't true--it _can't_ be!"

"Well, but it is," cried Miss Seymour positively. "I had it not ten minutes since from a very intimate friend; and as you were the first Salisbury girl I saw, why, I wanted to congratulate you, of course, as soon as I could."

"Salisbury girl!" Alexia groaned as she thought how they should never have that t.i.tle applied to them any more; for of course the beautiful school was doomed. "And where shall we all go?" she cried to herself in despair.

"Oh, how could she go and get engaged!" she exclaimed aloud.

"You haven't asked who the man is," said Miss Seymour in surprise.

"Oh, I know--I know," said Alexia miserably; "it's Mr. John Clemcy. Oh, if we hadn't had that old picnic!" she burst out.

"Eh--what?" exclaimed the little old lady quickly.

"Never mind. It doesn't signify who the man is. It doesn't signify about anything," said Alexia wildly, "as long as Miss Salisbury is going to get married and give up our school."

"Oh, I don't suppose the school will be given up," said Miss Seymour.

"What? Why, of course it will be. How can she keep it after she is married?" cried Alexia impatiently. She longed to say, "you goose you!"

"Why, I suppose the other one will keep it, of course; and it will go on just the same as it did before."

"Oh dear me! The idea of Miss Anstice keeping that school!" With all her misery, Alexia couldn't help bursting into a laugh.

"Miss Anstice?"

"Yes; if you knew her as we girls do, Miss Seymour, you never'd say she could run that school."

"I never said she could."

"Oh, yes, you did," Alexia was guilty of contradicting. "You said distinctly that when Miss Salisbury was married, you supposed Miss Anstice would keep it on just the same."

Little old Miss Seymour took three or four steps down the pavement, then turned and trotted back, the dressy morning robe still gathered in her hand.

"Who do you think is engaged to Mr. John Clemcy?" she asked, looking up at the tall girl.

"Why, our Miss Salisbury," answered Alexia, ready to cry, "I suppose.

That's what you said."

"Oh, no, I didn't," said the little old lady. "It's Miss Anstice Salisbury."

Alexia gave her one look; then took some flying steps across the street, and away down to the Salisbury School. She met a stream of girls in the front hall; and as soon as she saw their faces, she knew that her news was all old.

And they could tell her something more.

"Miss Wilc.o.x is going to be the a.s.sistant teacher," cried Amy Garrett.

"And Miss Salisbury announced it; why were you late, Alexia?" it was a perfect buzz around her ears. "And then she dismissed school; and we're all going down to the drawing-room now, to congratulate Miss Anstice."

Alexia worked her way to Polly Pepper and clung to her.

"Oh, Alexia, you've got here!" cried Polly delightedly. "And only think, we can keep our Miss Salisbury after all."

XXV "THE VERY PRETTIEST AFFAIR"

And Mr. John Clemcy, having put off any inclination to marry till so late in life, was, now that he had made his choice, in a ferment to hurry its consummation. And Miss Ophelia, who was still to keep the house and run the old-fas.h.i.+oned flower garden to suit herself--thus losing none of her honors--and being in her element, as has been stated, with some one "to fuss over" (her self-contained brother not yielding her sufficient occupation in that line), begged that the wedding might take place soon. So there was really no reason on earth why it should not be celebrated, and Miss Wilc.o.x be installed as a.s.sistant, and thus all things be in running order for the new year at the Salisbury School.

"And they say he has heaps of money--Mr. Clemcy has," cried Alexia, in the midst of the excitement of the next few days, when everybody was trying to adjust themselves to this new condition of affairs. A lot of the girls were up in Polly Pepper's room. "And it's an awful old family back of him in England," she went on, "though for my part, I'd rather have something to do with making my name myself."

"Oh, Alexia," cried Clem, "think of all those perfectly elegant old family portraits!"

"Mouldy old things!" exclaimed Alexia, who had small reverence for such things. "I should be ashamed of them, if I were Mr. John Clemcy and his sister. They don't look as if they knew anything to begin with; and such arms and hands, and impossible necks! Oh my! It quite gives me a turn to look at them."

"We are quite distinguished--the Salisbury School is," said Silvia, with an elegant manner, and a toss of her head. "My mother says it will be splendid capital to Miss Salisbury to have such a connection."

"And, oh, just think of Miss Anstice's engagement ring!" exclaimed another girl. "Oh my, on her little thin finger!"

"It's awful old-fas.h.i.+oned," cried Silvia, "set in silver. But then, it's big, and a _very_ pure stone, my mother says; and quite shows that the family must have been something, for it is an heirloom."

"Oh, do stop about family and heirlooms," cried Alexia impatiently; "the main thing is that our Miss Salisbury isn't going to desert us."

"Miss Anstice is; oh, goody!" Amy Garrett hopped up and down and softly beat her hands while she finished the sentence.

"Hus.h.!.+" Alexia turned on her suddenly. "Now, Amy, and the rest of you girls, I think we ought to stop this nonsense about Miss Anstice; she's going, and I, maybe, haven't treated her just rightly."