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-fashioned 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 Wilcox be installed as assistant, 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-fashioned,” 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.

“Hush!” 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.”

“Of course you haven't,” assented Clem coolly. “You've worried her life nearly out of her.”

“And oh, dear me! I'm sorry now,”—said Alexia, not minding in the least what Clem was saying. “I wonder why it is that I'm forever being sorry about things.”

“Because you're forever having your own way,” said Clem; “I'll tell you.”

“And so I'm going to be nice to her now,” said Alexia, with a perfectly composed glance at Clem. “Let's all be, girls. I mean, behind her back.”

Polly Pepper ran over across the room to slip her arm within Alexia's, and give her a little approving pat.

“It will be so strange not to make fun of her,” observed Amy Garrett, “but I suppose we can't now, anyway, that she is to be Mrs. John Clemcy.”

“Mrs. John Clemcy, indeed!” exclaimed Alexia, standing very tall. “She was just as nice before, as sister of our Miss Salisbury, I'd have you to know, girls.”

“Well, now what are we to give her as a wedding present?” said Polly Pepper. “You know we, as the committee, ought to talk it over at once. Let's sit down on the floor in a ring and begin.”

“Yes,” said Alexia; “now all flop.” And setting the example, she got down on the floor; and the girls tumbling after, the ring was soon formed.

“Hush now, do be quiet, Clem, if you can,” cried Alexia, to pay up old scores.

“I guess I'm not making as much noise as some other people,” said Clem, with a wry face.

“Well, Polly's going to begin; and as she's chairman, we've all got to be still as mice. Hush!”

“I think,” said Polly, “the best way would be, instead of wasting so much time in talking, and—”

“Getting into a hubbub,” interpolated Alexia.

“Who's talking now,” cried Clem triumphantly, “and making a noise?”

“Getting in confusion,” finished Polly, “would be, for us each to write out the things that Miss Anstice might like, on a piece of paper, without showing it to any of the other girls; then pass them in to me, and I'll read them aloud. And perhaps we'll choose something out of all the lists.”

“Oh, Polly, how fine!—just the thing.”

“I'll get the paper.”

“And the pencils.” The ring was in a hubbub; Alexia, as usual, the first to hop out of her place.

“Sit down, girls,” said Polly as chairman. So they all flew back again.

“There, you see now,” said Alexia, huddling expeditiously into her place next to Polly, “how no one can stir till the chairman tells us to.”

“Who jumped first of all?” exclaimed Clem, bursting into a laugh.

“Well, I'm back again, anyhow,” said Alexia coolly, and folding her hands in her lap.

“I'll appoint Lucy Bennett and Silvia Horne to get the paper and pencils,” said Polly. “They are on my desk, girls.”

Alexia smothered the sigh at her failure to be one of the girls to perform this delightful task; but the paper being brought, she soon forgot her disappointment, in having something to do.

“We must all tear it up into strips,” said the chairman, and, beginning on a sheet, “Lucy, you can be giving around the pencils.”

And presently the whole committee was racking its brains over this terribly important question thrust upon them.

“It must be something that will always reflect credit on the Salisbury School,” observed Alexia, leaning her chin on her hand while she played with her pencil.

“Ugh! do be still.” Lucy, on the other side, nudged her. “I can't think, if anybody speaks a word.”

“And fit in well with those old portraits,” said Clem, with a look at Alexia.

“Well, I hope and pray that we won't give her anything old. I want it spick, span, new; and to be absolutely up-to-date.” Alexia took her chin out of her hand, and sat up decidedly. “The idea of matching up those mouldy old portraits!—and that house just bursting with antiques.”

“Ugh! do hush,” cried the girls.

“And write what you want to, Alexia, on your own slip, and keep still,” said Silvia, wrinkling her brows; “you just put something out of my head; and it was perfectly splendid.”

“But I can't think of a thing that would be good enough,” grumbled Alexia, “for the Salisbury School to give. Oh dear me!” and she regarded enviously the other pencils scribbling away.

“My list is done.” Amy Garrett pinched hers into a little three-cornered note, and threw it into Polly's lap.

“And mine—and mine.” They all came in fast in a small white shower.

“Oh my goodness!” exclaimed Alexia, much alarmed that she would be left out altogether. “Wait, Chairman—I mean, Polly,” and she began scribbling away for dear life.

“Oh dear me!” The chairman unfolded the first strip, and began to read. “A piano—why, girls, Miss Anstice can't play.”

“Well, it would look nice in that great big drawing-room,” said Clem, letting herself out with a very red face.

“Oh, my! you wrote a piano!” Alexia went over backward suddenly to lie flat on the floor and laugh. “Besides, there is one in that house.”

“An old thing!” exclaimed Clem in disdain.

“Well, let's see; here's something nice”—Polly ran along the list—“a handsome chair, a desk, a cabinet. Those are fine!”

“Clem has gone into the furniture business, I should think,” said Philena.

“And a cabinet!” exclaimed Amy Garrett, “when that house is just full of 'em.”

“Oh, I mean a jewel cabinet, or something of that sort,” explained Clem hastily.

“That's not bad,” announced Silvia, “for I suppose he'll give her all the rest of those heirlooms; great strings of pearls probably he's got, and everything else. Dear me, don't I wish we girls could see them!” and she lost herself in admiration over the fabulous Clemcy jewels.

“Well, Chairman—Polly, I mean”—Alexia flew into position—“what's the next list?”

“This is quite different,” said Polly, unrolling it; “some handsome lace, a fan, a lorgnette, a bracelet.”

“It's easy enough to see that's Silvia's,” said Alexia—“all that finery and furbelows.”

“Well, it's not fair to tell what you think and guess,” said Silvia, a pink spot coming on either check.

“'Twouldn't make any difference, my guessing; we all know it's yours, Silvia,” said Alexia, coolly.

“Well, I think that's a lovely list,” said Amy, with sparkling eyes, “and I for one would be willing to vote for any of those things.”

“My mother says we better give her something to wear,” said Silvia, smoothing down her gown. “Miss Anstice likes nice things; and that great big house is running over with everything to furnish with.”

Polly was reading the third list, so somebody pulled Alexia's arm and stopped her. “A watch and chain—that's all there is on this list,” announced Polly.

“Oh!”—there was a chorus of voices—“that's it—that's it!” and “Why didn't I think of that?” until the whole ring was in a tumult again.

It was no matter what was on the other lists. The chairman read them over faithfully, but the items fell upon dull ears. They might make suitable tributes for other brides; there was but one mind about the present for this particular bride going forth from the Salisbury School. The watch and chain was the only gift to be thought of.

“And she wears that great big old-fashioned thing,” declared Silvia; “looks like a turnip—oh, oh!”

“And I do believe that's always made her so impressive and scarey whenever she got into that black silk gown,” said Amy Garrett. “I never thought of it before; but it was that horrible old watch and chain.”

“Girls,” said the chairman, “I do really believe that it would be the very best thing that we could possibly give her. And now I'm going to tell who it was who chose it.”

“Do—oh, do!” The whole ring came together in a bunch, as the girls all crowded around Polly.

“Alexia!” Then Polly turned and gave a loving little pat on the long back.

“Don't,” said Alexia, shrinking away from the shower of congratulations on having made the best choice, and thought of the very thing that was likely to unite the whole school on a gift. “It's nothing. I couldn't help but write it. It was the only thing I thought of.”

“Well; it was just as clever in you as could be, so there now!” Clem nodded over at her, and buried all animosity at once.

“And think how nice it will be, when it's all engraved inside the case with what we want to say,” said Polly, with shining eyes.

“And a great big monogram outside,” said Silvia, with enthusiasm, “and one of those twisted chains—oh, how fine!” She shook out her silver bracelets till they jingled all her enthusiasm; and the entire committee joining, the vote was taken to propose to the rest of the “Salisbury girls,” on the morrow, the gift of a watch and chain to the future Mrs. John Clemcy.

And the watch and chain was unanimously chosen by the “Salisbury girls” as the gift of all gifts they wanted to bestow upon their teacher on her wedding day; and they all insisted that Polly Pepper should write the inscription; so there it was, engraved beautifully on the inner side of the case: “Anstice Salisbury, with the loving regard of her pupils.” And there was a beautiful big monogram on the outside; and the long chain was double and twisted, and so handsome that Silvia's mother protested she hadn't a word to say but the very highest praise!

Oh, and the presentation of it came about quite differently from what was expected, after all. For the gift was to be sent with a little note, representing the whole school, and written, as was quite proper, by Polly Pepper, the chairman of the committee. But Miss Salisbury, to whom the precious parcel had been intrusted, said suddenly, “Why don't you give it to her yourselves, girls?”

It was, of course, the place of the chairman of the committee to speak. So Polly said, “Oh, would she like to have us, Miss Salisbury?”

“Yes, my dears. I know she would. She feels badly to go and leave you all, you know,” and there were tears in the blue eyes that always looked so kindly on them. “And it would be a very lovely thing for you to do, if you would like to.”

“We should love to do it,” cried Polly warmly. “May we go now, dear Miss Salisbury?”

“Yes,” said Miss Salisbury, very much pleased; “she is in the red parlor.”

So the committee filed into the red parlor. There sat Miss Anstice, and—oh dear me!—Mr. John Clemcy!

There was no time to retreat; for Miss Salisbury, not having heard Mr. Clemcy come in, was at the rear of the procession of girls. “Here, my dears—Anstice, the girls particularly want to see you—oh!” and then she saw Mr. John Clemcy.

Miss Anstice, who seemed to have dropped all her nervousness lately, saved the situation by coming forward and greeting them warmly; and when Mr. John Clemcy saw how it was, he went gallantly to the rescue, and was so easy and genial, and matter-of-course, that the committee presently felt as if a good part of their lives had been passed in making presentations, and that they were quite up to that sort of thing.

And Polly made a neat little speech as she handed her the packet; and Miss Anstice's eyes filled with tears of genuine regret at leaving them, and of delight at the gift.

“Girls, do you know”—could it be Miss Anstice who was talking with so much feeling in her voice?—“I used to imagine that you didn't love me.”

“Oh, that could never be!” cried Mr. Clemcy.

“And I got so worried and cross over it. But now I know you did, and that I was simply tired; for I never could teach like sister,”—she cast her a loving glance—“and I didn't really love my work. And, do you know, the thing I've longed for all my life was a watch and chain like this? Oh girls, I shall love it always!”

She threw the chain around her neck; and laid the little watch gently against her cheek.

“Oh!” It was Alexia who pressed forward. “You'll forgive us all, won't you, Miss Anstice, if we didn't love you enough?”

“When I want to forgive, I'll look at my dear watch,” said Miss Anstice brightly, and smiling on them all.

“'Twas that horrible old black silk gown that made her so,” exclaimed Alexia, as they all tumbled off down the hall in the greatest excitement. “You see how sweet she is now, in that white one.”

“And the red rose in her belt,” said Clem.

“And her diamond ring,” added Silvia.

“And we're different, too,” said Clem. “Maybe we wouldn't love to teach a lot of girls any better either, if we had to.”

“Well, and now there's the wedding!” exclaimed Amy Garrett, clasping her hands, “oh!”

“What richness!” finished Alexia.

And everybody said it was “the very prettiest affair; and so picturesque!” “And those dear Salisbury girls—how sweet they looked, to be sure!” Why, St. John's blossomed out like a veritable garden, just with that blooming company of girls; to say nothing of the exquisite flowers, and ropes of laurel, and palms, and the broad white satin ribbons to divide the favored ones from the mere acquaintances.

“And what a lovely thought to get those boys from the Pemberton School for ushers, with Jasper King as their leader!”

They all made such a bright, youthful picture, to be followed by the chosen eight of the “Salisbury girls,” the very committee who presented the gift to the bride-elect. There they were in their simple white gowns and big white hats.

And then came the little assistant teacher of the Salisbury School, in her pearl gray robe; singularly enough, not half so much embarrassed as she had often been in walking down the long schoolroom before the girls.

And Mr. John Clemcy never thought of such a thing as embarrassment at all; but stood up in his straightforward, manly, English composure, to take his vows that bound him to the little school-teacher. And Miss Salisbury, fairly resplendent in her black velvet gown, had down deep within her heart a childlike satisfaction in it all. “Dear Anstice was happy,” and somehow the outlook for the future, with Miss Wilcox for assistant teacher, was restful for one whose heart and soul were bound up in her pupils' advancement.

Miss Ophelia Clemcy blossomed out from her retirement, and became quite voluble, in the front pew before the wedding procession arrived.

“You see, it was foreordained to be,” she announced, as she had before declared several times to the principal of the Salisbury School. “The first moment he saw her, Brother John was fully convinced that here was a creature of the greatest sensibility, and altogether charming. And, my dear Miss Salisbury, I am only commonplace and practical, you know; so it is all as it should be, and suits me perfectly. And we will always keep the anniversary of that picnic, that blessed day, won't we?”

And old Mr. King invited the eight ushers from the Pemberton School and the committee from the Salisbury School to a little supper to top off the wedding festivities. And Grandpapa sat at the head of the table, with Mother Fisher at the other end, and Dr. Fisher and Mrs. Whitney opposite in the centre. And there were wedding toasts and little speeches; and everybody got very jolly and festive. And the little doctor looked down to the table end where he could see his wife's eyes. “It reminds me very much of our own wedding day, wife,” his glance said. And she smiled back in such a way as to fill him with great content.

“And wasn't that reception in the school parlors too perfectly beautiful for anything!” cried Polly Pepper, in a lull, for about the fiftieth time the remark had been made.

“Yes, and didn't Alexia make an awful blunder with her paper of rice!” said Clem sweetly.

“I can't help it,” said Alexia, nowise disturbed; “the old paper burst, and I had to put it in my handkerchief. You couldn't expect me, girls, to keep my wits after that.”

“Well, you needn't have spilt it all over Miss Anstice's bonnet,” said Philena, laughing.

“Mrs. Clemcy's, you mean,” corrected Jasper.

“Oh dear me! I never shall get used to her new name,” declared Philena.

“And I think I got my rice deposited as well as some of the rest of you girls,” declared Alexia airily.

“Mine struck Mr. Clemcy full in the eye,” said Silvia; “then I ducked behind Polly Pepper.”

“Oh, that was a great way to do!” exclaimed Jasper.

“Oh, I saw her,” said Polly, with a little laugh, “and I jumped away; and Mr. Clemcy saw her, too.”

“Horrors!” cried Silvia. “Did he? Oh, I'm frightened to death! What did he look like, Polly?”

“Oh, he laughed,” said Polly.

Just then came a ring at the doorbell, sharp and sudden.

“What is going to happen?” cried Polly, her face like a rose. “Everything has been beautiful to-day; and now I just know something perfectly lovely is coming to finish off with.”

“A telegram, sir.” Johnson held out a long yellow envelope to Mr. King.

“It's for Mrs. Fisher,” said the old gentleman.

So the yellow envelope went down the table-length, the color going out of Polly's cheek; and she didn't dare to look at Mamsie's eyes.

“Oh—the boys!” gasped Polly. “Jasper, do you suppose?”—What, she didn't finish; for Mother Fisher just then cried out, and passed the yellow sheet to the little doctor. “Read it aloud,” was all she said. But how her black eyes shone!

“David took first prize classics. I'm picking up a bit. Joel Pepper.”

THE END.

Top

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           

Clyx.com