Peggy-Alone Part 28

VEXATIONS AND CONSOLATIONS

Ivy turned disconsolately from the window. She had waved good-by to Laura and Alene when they had looked round at the corner ere pa.s.sing from view on their way to the gla.s.s-boat.

The trip had been postponed from day to day in the hope of her being able to go along, and even at the last moment her friends had wished to give it up and devote the afternoon to an indoor meeting of the Happy-Go-Luckys; but Ivy would not have it so; she insisted on their going, she vetoed every argument to the contrary, but now that they were beyond recall and she faced the empty room she almost regretted her persistence.

And yet it was a pleasant room enough, with nothing of luxury to recommend it but having an air of quiet comfort. An un.o.btrusive wall paper, a green-and-oak carpet, a bright rug before the fire-place, which was filled with tall ferns; a picture of the "Mammoth Trees of California," above the mantel, a lamp with a green globe hanging over the center-table, a few chairs, and Ivy's couch drawn close to the two windows with their snowy curtains--all beautifully neat and clean, but alas, so tiresomely familiar to the little prisoner. Even the sight of her books piled at the foot of the lounge wearied her!

She threw aside the beloved Sunset Book after vainly trying to get interested in it. How flat and unprofitable it seemed! Why could she never write anything but the trite and useless things that almost anyone who was able to hold a pen could say as well or better? The verses about the four o'clocks, which the other day had seemed a pretty conceit, to-day sounded silly, fit only for the little waste-basket at her side, where she threw them with disdain.

Life was unprofitable, friends noticeable only by their absence; even the faithful Hugh had deserted her. He had made no motion toward "making up" since the day they went blackberrying--it would have served him right if the bull had put an end to her! If that boy Mark Griffin hadn't interfered--and why he had she didn't know, what business was it of his?--Hugh, instead of wearing his air of indifference, would be crying his eyes out beside her dead body--or rather her grave, for she would be buried and done with by this time. But no; here she herself, instead of Hugh, was crying over it! For the last week he had been even less attentive than ever; he was up and out long before she awoke in the mornings, came home at noon to s.n.a.t.c.h a hasty lunch and was off again after supper until bedtime, with only a careless nod to her, Ivy, whom he had hitherto allowed to claim all his attention and the little leisure time he could spare from his work as office-boy and a.s.sistant clerk in a real-estate firm down street.

Heigho! Who was that coming? Claude and Nettie, hand in hand, with beaming faces and crumby lips!

"Oh, you greedy youngsters, where do you put all the cake and things you devour, anyway?"

Simultaneously two mouths were opened wide.

"They are big enough naturally, you needn't stretch them! No wonder you are both noted dunces in your cla.s.s--you are nothing but mouth and stomach! Come here, I've a little time. Let's see what you can do!"

"I can figure!" said Nettie proudly, but she eyed the slate upon which Ivy had written, half abashed.

"Three plus two equals what?" said Ivy.

"Six!"

"No, try again!"

"Six!" cried Nettie decidedly again.

"No; five, stupid!"

"Six," reiterated Nettie, "Teacher says so!"

"That's three multiplied by two; I said three _plus_--"

"Well, it's six at our school," declared Nettie doggedly, her eyes half filled with tears.

"To think you are any relation to Laura! Why, she's as bright--"

"She's big, and awful old, and not half as nice as Nettie!" cried Claude.

"Indeed, no wonder you stand up for her! You don't even know the alphabet!"

"Yes, I do!"

"Well, see here!" Ivy picked up his primer.

"I don't want to study--it's vacation!" said Claude, drawing back.

"He may injure his brain by overstudy; such a precocious scholar!"

Nettie pursed out her lip. "Precious scolder herself!" she muttered.

"Come, Claude, I'll give you this big red apple if you say it correctly," urged Ivy.

"A--B--C," commenced Claude bravely, "A--B--C--Poke Bonnet."

"No, that's D!"

"Well, it looks like a poke," returned Claude.

"How funny! It only needs a bow and string, see?" cried the little girl.

Claude proceeded with the letters:

"L--M--N--the same old hoop--I ought to know its name."

"O," whispered Nettie.

He turned upon her indignantly--

"I was just going to say O--that's easy! P--Q--R--little wormy thing--Oh, bother T--U--V--W--let's see, see-saw, X--wizie!" he concluded triumphantly and with a sudden movement he s.n.a.t.c.hed the apple from Ivy's lap.

"Come back, you didn't earn it!" commanded Ivy.

"I did, didn't I, Nettie?" he cried, digging his uneven little teeth into the rosy cheek of the apple.

"Come here at once!"

Ivy reached for her crutches but Nettie, too quick for her, grabbed one and fled with Claude, while Ivy in a rage threw the other after them.

Across the floor it sailed and hit against the wall with a resounding clap.

"That's the end of my teaching, and everything I do trying to help others ends just that way! Now in the story-books the children are good and no matter how dull, anxious to learn and thankful to be taught, and the teacher gets some satisfaction out of it! I believe the only respectable children are in books; the others are imps! Dear me! I feel like knocking my head against the wall!" She threw herself upon the sofa and pressed her face against its fir-scented cus.h.i.+ons.

Presently soft footsteps were heard. A lady entered the room, and glancing from the discarded crutch to the couch, crossed the floor and placed her hand caressingly on the curly mop of hair.

"Are you asleep, Ivy?" she inquired gently.

"No, mamma, just thinking."

"Is there anything I can do? Here is a cool drink."

"No, thank you--yes, I guess I will, I am rather thirsty!" She sat up and eagerly drank the lemonade.

"Were the children naughty? I thought they might amuse you for a while--"

"They were simply diabolical--but just on a par with all the rest! The girls gone to enjoy themselves--and that hateful Hugh running away every day as though afraid I might encroach on his valuable time--and--"