The dark fantastic (6 page)

CHAPTER 4

Late Friday afternoon small printed handbills appeared in Woodridge announcing the meeting to be held Monday evening at Timberley school. Dr. Caxton had placed the order with the Sentinel upon his return to town and the bills were run off and distributed in time to catch the Saturday market crowd. John Barclay reported Saturday night that interest was running high and Miss Amory could expect a full turnout.

Judith was spending the intervening time at the Barclays'. Grateful as she was for their makeshift hospitality, she still smarted with resentment that she had not been urged to stay at Timberley. But Richard Tomlinson had not seconded his wife's somewhat ungracious invitation. It was evident that he did not want Miss Amory at Timberley school. She wondered why. Her curiosity was stronger than her resentment, particularly when she remembered his wife's attitude. If his wife had opposed her she would have understood his aloofness. But Abigail had proved her ally, and the man on whom she had counted had maintained a cold neutrality.

She had plenty of time during the interim for shrewdly directed conversation with Mrs. Barclay.

"Abigail Tomlinson is spoiled and always has been," said Ellie Barclay with a sniff. "She was a Huse, and the Huses always thought they were blood relations to the Almighty. She got religion when she was a girl and it went kinda sour on her. No man ever born was good enough to be her husband.

She came mighty near being an old maid through her sanctifiedness. The Tomlinsons didn't know what they were taking on when they let Richard marry her. Richard's a good man, but he's the kind of man women can't seem to let alone. These spells Abigail has are nothing but jealous fits. She doesn't want him out of her sight, so she takes to her bed and won't cat unless he feeds her. Invalid, nothing! She's just a jealous fool."

"Jealous!" thought Judith, remembering the sick woman's open partisanship toward herself.

"Mrs. Tomlinson was very nice to me," she said.

"Oh, she wouldn't be jealous of you," was the prompt though unflattering assurance.

On Sunday, as a matter of policy, Judith went to church with the Barclays. She was quite sure that church attendance in this community would be a definite asset. She had another object, more personal, which was doomed to disappointment. Not until she was tightly squeezed into the Barclays' Baptist pew did she learn that the Tomlinsons were Methodists.

On Monday the question of her own presence at the school meeting became an issue. John Barclay assured her it was not required. She would be notified of the outcome of the voting.

"Don't you think an applicant has a better chance if she meets personally the people who are to decide on her merits?"

"In case of a man, yes. But where the applicant is a lady— if you'll pardon my saying it, Miss Amory—I believe you'll do yourself more harm than good by attending."

Judith thought otherwise.

Late that afternoon she walked across town to the Henderson livery stable for the purpose of again securing the bay mare and phaeton. She would take Ellie Barclay with her for propriety's sake, but nothing was going to prevent her attendance at Timberley schoolhouse that night.

A voice accosted her as she crossed the courthouse square. If she had not heard her name spoken she would have ignored

the flourish of the lifted hat, for she was holding her head very high to show these country bumpkins that she was a lady. But she was forced to pause when a masculine voice spoke her name.

"Miss Amory! May I speak to you a moment?"

It was Lucius Goff of the Terre Haute Express.

At Judith's chill greeting he fell into step beside her, because it was not good manners to stand talking on the street.

"John Barclay tells me you won't be at the schoolhouse tonight. If you'll pardon me. Miss Amory, I think you're making a mistake. In a district solidly prejudiced against female instructors, your only chance is to meet with the voters personally. If they could see you and talk to you they would change their minds."

This was Judith's opinion exactly, but she was too wise to respond to Lucius's flattering smile. When it was followed by an offer to drive her out to the schoolhouse that evening she declined with thanks. Shrewd judgment warned that her appearance at the school meeting thus squired might create the wrong impression.

"I've already arranged to attend the meeting, Mr. Goff."

"Really? Then I shall hope to see you there. And may I wish you the best of luck?" He stood courteously, hat in hand, as she bowed and went on her way. But she was conscious of the sly amusement in his smile.

The rig at Henderson's was available. She invited Mrs. Barclay and Jennie to accompany her. They accepted with enthusiasm.

By seven o'clock Timberley schoolhouse was crowded; not solely through interest in things educational, but because a gathering of any kind was a social event. Bachelors, spinsters, and childless widows drove five and six miles to vote for a teacher they might never meet. Parents of school-age children were only slightly in the majority. The most belligerent mem-

ber of the district was old Alf Butterick, none of whose ten daughters had ever darkened a schoolhouse door. Butterick was fanatically opposed to female education, and it was a foregone conclusion that he would block any attempt to hire a woman teacher at Timberley.

All this Mrs. Barclay explained to Judith as they sat at a double desk in a rear corner, from which N'antage point Judith had a good view of the room in which she hoped to teach.

It was a square enclosure of four log walls, chinked and cal-cimined against the weather and perforated along the sides with small deep windows. A rusted stove, a teacher's desk on which reposed a globe slightly bashed at the equator, a blackboard, a wall map, a shelf of miscellaneous debris, and five rows of rough pine desks and benches completed the furnishings. Never had Judith Amory taught in such crude surroundings. Yet never had she so coveted a position.

"That's Jane Mitchell and her husband over there." Mrs. Barclay pointed to a young woman in a scarlet hood with a grinning young man in tow. "Now I believe Alec Mitchell might vote for you. He's a good-natured fellow. He hasn't been married very long. Suppose I take you over and introduce you."

Judith declined. She would rather no one knew of her presence yet. Not even to herself did she admit that she was waiting for Richard Tomlinson.

When he came in he did not even see her.

He shouldered his way through the crowded room and mounted a little platform. He wore the same dark blue greatcoat which had been so much in his way that night at the theater, and his handsome head towered above the heads about him as it had towered that night. He was again the man Judith had met under adventurous circumstances, and she thrilled at sight of him until her own tingling cheeks warned her that Mrs. Barclay's sharp eyes missed nothing.

She glanced swiftly around to see if anyone else was watching and encountered Lucius Goff's amused recognition. He

and Dr. Caxton had followed Richard in. The doctor had gone forward, but Lucius remained near the door. He had missed nothing of Judith's reaction to Richard Tomlinson's entrance.

She acknowledged his bow with a frosty little nod.

The meeting was called to order and proceeded at once to the business of considering the application of Miss Judith Amory for the balance of the school year at Timberley.

Three men were on their feet immediately.

"Mr. Chairman, we don't want any women "

"We need a man at Timberley big enough to whip those Pettigrew young ones "

"Mr. Chairman, I move "

Richard Tomlinson rapped for order.

"You will please wait until the Chair calls for discussion."

There was a lull. Timberley district was the home of the monthly debating society. Roheit's Rules of Order was revered like the Decalogue.

Richard continued: "In presenting this application I would like to state that it has been carefully considered by the trustees. Dr. Caxton and myself have met the applicant and examined her. It is true that the applicant is a woman. But we believe she is sufficiently' intelligent to handle the school without recourse to corporal punishment."

A voice from the back of the room called, "You got a point there, Richard. Good hickory switches are gettin' scarce around here."

The laugh that followed eased the hostile atmosphere. Judith looked round to see the rustic wit who had come to her aid. Mrs. Barclay whispered, "Henry Schook. He's a great cutup." Richard Tomlinson talked on to a roomful of people who were suddenly amenable to persuasion.

And he could persuade them, if anyone could.

Mrs. Barclay whispered, "Don't you love his voice? He studied for the ministry, you know."

This information came as a surprise to Judith, who had been

remembering a man who slipped away to see a Shakespeare play.

As he talked on, earnestly building up the case for a female instructor at Timberley, she wondered at his reversed attitude. Had he changed his mind or had his wife changed it for him? Did he really want Miss Amory teaching the school, or was his first cool response his true feeling?

Suddenly, from trying to hide behind Mrs. Barclay, Judith sat up as tall as possible to attract the speaker's attention. She wanted him to see her and be caught off guard. She wanted to surprise his honest reaction to her presence when his wife was not beside him.

The man in front shifted his position, Judith moved a little, and Richard looked straight into her eyes.

His whole face kindled with surprised pleasure. He interrupted his own remarks:

"I find that the applicant is here this evening. You can see and hear her for yourselves. Miss Amory, would you please come to the platform?"

Judith responded. She spoke briefly, stressing the need for mental, not physical, superiority in the matter of discipline. She was willing to take the school with the understanding that she would resign if found incompetent. Her cool assurance made a stronger impression than any record of accomplishment. Hostility and skepticism gave place to conviction that here was a smart young woman.

Elated, she looked over the crowded room. Her eyes encountered Lucius Goff's. He nodded with a congratulatory grin. She looked swiftly away and met another pair of eyes. A little girl, leaning on the desk in front of her, was watching the two people on the platform. Her eyes moved from Judith to Richard, then back to Judith again. They were large dark eyes and so arresting in their gaze that Judith began to feel uncertain and confused. She hastily concluded her remarks and sat down.

When the vote was taken and her application accepted, she had a cowardly impulse to run and hide. So acute was her discomfort by this time that she began to wish she had never apphed for this school. And all because a mere child had looked with strange intentness upon two people as they stood together on a platform.

Strangers were crowding around to meet the new school-ma'am, and over their heads Judith saw Mrs. Barclay's hand waving triumphantly and Lucius Goff's hat held high in a flourish. Even gruff old Dr. Caxton was shaking her hand and pledging his support. Everyone seemed bent on wishing her well. Everyone but the man for whom her eyes were searching.

She saw him standing a little apart, talking to the young Mitchells. Jane Mitchell had removed her scarlet hood, and her resemblance to Richard was so strong that Judith guessed her to be another of his sisters. The little girl with the disturbing eyes was hanging on his arm, and suddenly Judith recalled the girl who had clung to him that day as she drove away from Timberlcy. It was the same child.

Straining a listening ear, Judith heard her plead:

''Let me go home with you, Richard. Please!"

He put an affectionate arm around her, but his answer was inaudible.

"But why, Richard? I don't do anything. I'll keep out of her sight. If you'll just let me come back with you."

The three adults talked on. Suddenly the young husband's voice rose above the others.

"Understand, Richard, we don't mind having her. But there's only one bedroom, you know—and Thorne's getting to be a big girl—and with Jane the way she is "

For the first time Judith noticed that the young wife was pregnant.

Richard said, "You and Jane go on, Alec. I've this business here to finish up, then I'll stop on my way home and talk things over." He looked down at the child. "Don't worry,

Cricket. We'll have you home before long." And playfully rumpling her hair, he told her to run along with the Mitchells.

Judith's eyes followed the trio as they made their way out. Then she turned to discover, with a start, that Richard was standing at her elbow.

"There are some details which we might as well settle tonight, Miss Amory. How soon will you be ready to start? . . . Next week? ... Good. We've lost time enough already."

His manner was crisp and businesslike. She replied in the same tone:

"I'll have to go back to Terre Haute first. But I can be ready a week from today."

"I'll have the building cleaned and we'll see if something can't be done about that stove. By the way—you'll board at Timberley. If that's satisfactory to you."

"Perfectly satisfactory'," said Judith.

"Dr. Caxton will settle the remaining details. Don't hesitate to call on me for anything needed. And now, if you'll excuse me, I'll say good night."

"Good night, Mr. Tomlinson."

He was gone without even a handshake.

Dr. Caxton was saying, "The only thing left to be settled is the salary, and there's nothing to settle about it because it's forty dollars a month, take it or leave it."

At the moment Judith felt like leaving it.

Instead, she found the salary quite satisfactory and herself engaged to teach the Timberley school.

CHAPTER 5

Five weeks from the night Judith faced her reflection in Mrs. Prewitt's cracked looking glass while dressing to go to the theater she sat before the mirror in what the Tomlin-sons called the bird's-eye-maple room. The face that looked back at her seemed to belong to a different person. Gone was the taut anxiety of the mouth, the pin-point sharpness of eyes worn with contriving. For the first time since her father's death Judith Amory knew the luxury of a home.