Eli's Children Part 28

"No, sir," replied Luke, "I must ask you to hear me first. I have decided not to accept the post."

There was a dead silence in the room for a few moments after Luke Ross's decisive words, a silence broken by Humphrey Bone, who relieved the excitement under which he laboured by starting from his seat, and bringing his thick-soled boot down with a tremendous clump upon the floor.

"Do I understand you to say, Mr Ross, that you decline the post?"

exclaimed the Rector.

"Yes, sir, definitely," replied Luke. "I could not, under the circ.u.mstances, think of accepting the appointment."

There was another pause here, and then, led by Fullerton, the opposition party broke into a loud cheer.

"Silence if you please, gentlemen," exclaimed the Rector, with a greater show of indignation than any one present remembered him to have displayed. "This is no time for showing party feeling. Of course, as Mr Ross declines to accept the appointment--"

"But he don't," cried old Michael Ross, "he wants time to think it over."

"Hush, father," exclaimed the young man, firmly, "I know my own mind.

Mr Mallow, I am sorry to have given all this trouble, and, as it were, placed you in a false position; but until a few minutes back I did not see this matter in the light I do now, and I definitely decline the post."

"Your action does you great credit, young man," said Fullerton, pompously; "and I am glad to congratulate my fellow-townsman, Michael Ross, on the possession of such a son."

"Your compliment is misplaced, sir," said Luke, coldly, "for my action in this matter is in nowise creditable to me. But that is my affair, and it need not be discussed."

Mr Fullerton scowled on receiving this snub, and he was about to make some angry retort, but the Rector said at once--

"Then, gentlemen, we need say no more, unless you wish to discuss the question of Mr Bone's dismissal."

"I claim," said Fullerton, "that he cannot be dismissed."

"A majority of the school governors have the power to dismiss him, Mr Fullerton," replied the Rector, with dignity; and after a few more words he left the chair, the meeting being declared adjourned until application had been made to one of the inst.i.tutions for another master.

"I am sorry to find that you have come to such a decision, Mr Ross,"

said the Rector, as he encountered Luke outside the inn.

"I was sorry to come to such a decision, sir," replied Luke; "but, believe me that I have been in no way influenced by those who seem to be in opposition to you, and I hope that you will persist in Humphrey Bone's dismissal, and the appointment of another man."

The Rector bowed and walked on with his son, who raised his hat slightly to Luke, that salute being returned as the young men's eyes met once more, each reading in those of the other a growing dislike which must some day ripen into enmity.

Then they pa.s.sed on their several ways, both having the same object in view.

PART ONE, CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.

DOUBTS.

It was nearly twelve o'clock, and in spite of her efforts, Sage Portlock's thoughts had wandered a good deal from the work she had in hand. It was the morning upon which Luke Ross's appointment was to be confirmed, and her face flushed as she thought of the time when he would be conducting the next school, and the future looked very rosy and bright, for she told herself that in secret she was very fond of Luke.

Julia and Cynthia Mallow had been there to take a cla.s.s and chat with her for a few minutes, Cynthia being ready with a sly allusion to the business upon which papa had been left.

"We are going to pick up papa after he has fastened your schoolmaster, Sage," she said; "but first of all we are going to drive over to the farm and see Mrs Berry and the little ones. When does she go away?"

"To-morrow, Miss Cynthia," said Sage, turning rather white, "and--and she is not very well. Would you mind not calling, Miss Julia?"

"Oh, no, certainly not," said Julia; "but I am sorry. Give our kind love to her, Sage, and say we will drive over to Lewby some day and see her there."

"Thank you, Miss Julia," said Sage, and she gladly saw the school visitors depart, with the intention of going on to the ford.

Sage sighed as she stood at the door and saw the sisters get into the handsomely appointed carriage that was waiting, and then she wished that she had asked them when they were going back to London, for it seemed to her that both she and Rue would feel happier and more at ease if the Mallow family were gone.

Then she recalled her last meeting with Luke at home, and his words upon learning--short conversation interrupted by her aunt--that there was to be no engagement until he had realised a better income than would accrue from the schools.

"That does not matter," she said, brightening up. "Luke is so brave and determined, and has such spirit, that he will soon become rich enough for us to marry, and, of course, we can wait."

There was no impatience in Sage's love for Luke Ross. She told herself that she was very fond of him, and some day they would be man and wife, but when did not seem to her to matter, and she busied herself once more, light-hearted enough, with the children.

Then came the beginning of another train of thought, and there was once more a slight flush in her cheeks as her mind turned to Cyril Mallow, his coming to the school with his father, his meeting and speaking to her once or twice when she was leaving school, and then, too, of his coming to the farm to sit, and smoke, and talk with her uncle.

The colour deepened in her cheeks a little more as she thought of all this; but, directly after, she drove these thoughts away, and busied herself with the conclusion of the morning lessons.

Twelve o'clock, and the buzz and hurry of the dismissal, and then the pleasant scent of the cool outer air as the windows were thrown open, and again the bright elasticity of feeling as, well wrapped in warm furry jacket and with her natty little, not-too-fas.h.i.+onable hat setting off the freshness of her complexion and youthful looks, she started for her brisk walk along the lane and across the field to the farm.

She had to pa.s.s Mrs Searby's cottage on her way, where that worthy woman with upturned sleeves was standing at the open door in converse with another of the mothers whose children attended the school.

"Good-morning," said Sage, as she pa.s.sed them, and the second woman returned the salutation; but Miss Searby's mamma replied by giving her an uncompromising stare, and saying aloud before the young mistress was out of hearing--

"Ah, she's going to meet young Cyril Mallow. Nice goings on, indeed, for one like her."

Sage's cheeks turned scarlet as she hurried on, and a strange feeling of shame and confusion troubled her. It was nothing that she was perfectly innocent of any such intent, she felt horribly guilty all the same, and it was only by a great effort that she kept back the hot tears of indignation.

Then her conscience smote her with the recollection that she had thought a good deal of Cyril Mallow lately, and she asked herself whether she was turning traitorous to Luke Ross, but only to indignantly repel the self-inflicted charge.

It was monstrous, she told herself. She was sure that she loved Luke very dearly, as she always had from a child, when he had been like a brother to her. Some day when he had climbed higher she would be his wife, for she was sure her uncle never meant all that he had said. He was too fond of her, and too eager to do all he could to make her happy.

"Such a shameful thing to say! A wicked woman!" exclaimed Sage then; "as if I ever thought--Oh!"

She quickened her steps with her face growing scarlet once more, the red flush having died out to leave it pale, for there were footsteps behind her coming on quickly, and it was Cyril Mallow, she felt, hurrying to catch her; and that was why the spiteful woman had spoken in that bitter way.

The steps were coming nearer in spite of Sage's efforts to get home before she was overtaken. _Pat, pat, pat, pat_! just as her heart was beating with excitement. She felt frightened, she hardly knew why, and dreaded being overtaken by Cyril, who seemed to have obtained some power over her that she could not understand.

He was very pleasant spoken, and frank, and manly-looking, but she did not like him nor his ways, for she was sure that he was a bad son.

"I wonder whether he would try to improve if I asked him, and pointed out how wrong it is of him to be so much trouble to his parents,"

thought Sage; and then she s.h.i.+vered with a strange kind of dread.

Why had she thought all that? What was Cyril Mallow to her? It was only out of civility that he had spoken to her as he had, but she felt that it was out of place, and that Mr Mallow would not have approved of it at all, and--and it was very dreadful.

As a rule, Sage Portlock was a firm, determined girl, full of decision and strength of character, but the words of the spiteful woman seemed to have quite unnerved her, and with the sense of being very guilty, and of having behaved treacherously to Luke Ross, she had hard work to keep from starting off, and breaking into a run.

"And he is coming on so quickly," she thought. "He will overtake me before I get to the gate. How dare he follow me about like this, and why is not Luke here to protect me!"