"I will not attempt to shake it," replied her companion. "But suffer me to hope for a longer conversation at some future time, upon these topics, concerning which you think we differ. There may be some points of agreement, and I, for one, am open to conviction."
Again was Ida thrown off her guard, and the smile that answered irradiated her face like a sudden sunbeam. But when her class-mate had gone, she thought—"Weak fool! the reserve I have striven for two years to establish, melted by a soft speech of a school-girl. She is one of the would-be 'popular' sort, and would worm herself into confidence by an affectation of sympathy and sweetness."
"Miss Ross," said Mr. Purcell, a while later, coming up to her desk, "you will do me the favor to meet me in my study at two o'clock."
At the time designated, she walked with a stately tread through the long school-room, unabashed by the hundred curious eyes bent upon her; for a summons to "the study" was an event of rare occurrence, and had been heretofore the harbinger of some important era in the annals of school-dom. Ida was prepared for every thing partiality could dictate, and tyranny execute; but Mr. Purcell was alone, and his demeanor anything but menacing. "He thinks to cajole me," whispered the fell demon Distrust, and her heart changed to steel.
"Miss Ida," began the principal, mildly, "this is your third session in this institution, and I can sincerely declare that during that time, your propriety of behaviour, and diligence in study have not been surpassed. I have never had a young lady under my care, whose improvement was more rapid—of whose attainments I was more proud; but I regret to say, never one whose confidence I failed so signally to gain. A teacher's task, my dear Miss Ross, is at best an arduous one, but if he receive no recompense for his toil in the affection of those for whom he labors, his life is indeed one of cheerless drudgery. You appear to regard me as a mere machine. For a time I attributed your reserve to diffidence, and trusted that time and my efforts would dissipate it. On the contrary, the distance between us has increased. You hold yourself aloof from your school-mates, repelling every offered familiarity, yet I have seen you weep after such an act. Your cheek glows with enthusiasm when your favorite studies engage your mind, and you relapse into frigid hauteur when recalled to the actual world around you. You have feeling as well as intellect—you are acting a part assumed from some unaccountable fancy; or, I would rather believe, put upon you by necessity. The evidence of your want of reliance in my friendship which you have given me to-day, has determined me to speak candidly with you. I would not wrest a confession from you which you might afterwards repent, but I entreat you to look upon me as a friend who has a paternal love for each member of his numerous family, who desires to see you happy, and asks—not your confidence, but that you will let him serve you."
Ida sat like a statue. He resumed in a tone of disappointment—
"As to the unjustifiable charge brought by Signor Alboni—I am aware how galling is even the appearance of humiliation upon so proud a spirit. I have investigated the matter carefully. The testimony of your friend, Miss Carleton, would of itself have been sufficient to exonerate you. It was confirmed by the voice of the class, and the inevitable consequence is, that Signor Alboni no longer has a place in my school. I can safely promise that the teacher I have selected in his stead, will oppose no impediment to your progress."
Shame for her unjust accusations, and remorseful gratitude pierced Ida's bosom. Greatly agitated, she approached her instructor, when Mr. Read walked in;—a cynical iceberg! Every generous emotion—all softness vanished on the instant. His inquiring glance encountered one as freezing. "I will not detain you longer, Mr. Purcell," she said, as if concluding a business arrangement. "As nearly as I can understand, your object in sending for me was to secure me as a pupil of the new language-master. Having undertaken the study of the Italian, I prefer going through with the course. Mr. Read will settle the terms. Good afternoon, gentlemen;" and with the mien of a duchess she left them.
Mr. Read "had been delayed by pressing business. Miss Ross requested him to see Signor Alboni—was sorry he was late—presumed all was right, etc.," and walked out again. Mr. Purcell was too much hurt, and too indignant at his pupil's conduct, to care whether he stayed or not.
The misguided girl had alienated a true friend, and she knew it—felt it in her heart's core. In the solitude of her chamber she wept bitter tears: "I have cast away the gem for which I would sell my soul! While I thirsted for the waters of affection, I struck down the hand that held them to my lip. It is my fate—I was not born to be loved—I hate myself—why should I inspire others with a different feeling?"
In vain she tried to reason herself into a belief of Mr. Purcell's insincerity. Truth speaks with a convincing tongue, and she knew that the imputation of interested motives she had hurled at him in the unfortunate revulsion of feeling, was unfounded.
In intermission next day, a note was laid upon Ida's desk, inscribed in towering capitals, to "Misses Ross and Carleton;" It ran thus:—
"At a large and enthusiastic meeting of the Italian class of Mr. Purcell's Young Ladies' Female Seminary, convened on yesterday afternoon, the succeeding resolutions were proposed, and carried unanimously:
"Resolved, That whereas, Miss Ida Ross and Miss Caroline Carleton, members of the aforesaid class, have, by their spirited independence delivered us from an oppression as grinding as that under which our Revolutionary forefathers groaned, a vote of thanks shall be tendered them in the name of their compatriots. And—
"Resolved, Moreover, that we bind ourselves to assist them by our united suffrages in the attainment of any honor for which they shall hereafter be candidates, whether the dunce-block or the gold medal.
Anna Talbot, Chairman. Ellen Morris, Secretary.
The event which had elicited this public manifestation, was to Ida, connected with too much that was unpleasant, to allow her to smile at the pompous communication. She passed it gravely to her neighbor. She laughed at the ludicrous repetition of feminist in the second line, and at the conclusion, bounded upon the platform where stood Mr. Purcell's desk, and commenced a flourishing harangue "for herself and colleague," expressing their gratitude at the flattering tribute from their fellow-laborers, and pledging themselves to uphold forever their honor and lawful privileges. "In the language of your eloquent resolution, my sisters, we form a 'Young Ladies' Female Seminary'—womanfully will we battle for woman's rights."
"Hush-h-h!" and Mr. Purcell was discovered standing behind the crowd. He stood aside to let the blushing orator return to her seat, remarking in an under-tone as she passed, "I must take care to enlist such talents in my service—I shall be undone if they are directed against me."
"Oh Carry! what did he say?" whispered Fanny Porter.
"Nothing very dreadful," she returned, laughingly. Ida looked on in surprise, Josephine with scorn; but to the majority, this little episode in their monotonous life was a diverting entertainment.
"Give me a girl who is not too proud to relish a joke," said Ellen Morris. "Ida Ross is above such buffoonery. She would not have demeaned her dignity before the school."
"But Carry spoke for her too," said Emma Glenn, a meek, charitable creature: "Perhaps modesty, not pride, kept her silent."
"Fiddlesticks!" was the school-girlish rejoinder.
Ida had missed a chance for making herself popular. The girls were moved to admiration by her manner of resenting Alboni's rudeness, and their joy at getting rid of him, assumed the shape of gratitude to their champion. She was for the hour a heroine, and might have retained her stand, but for her cool treatment of their advances. She saw, without understanding the reason of the change, that there was now a mingling of dislike in their neglect; and as she sank in their esteem, Carry mounted. Mr. Purcell never noticed her out of the recitation room—Mr. Read was more lofty—Josephine more contemptuous than ever. Inmates of one house—occupying adjacent chambers—sitting at the same board at home, and within speaking distance at school, the two girls had not one feeling in common—a spark of affection one for the other. Open ruptures were infrequent now, although they were innumerable during the first months