anymore.”
“Then who?...”
“A weak little drudge named Prudence Townsend.”
“That’s not very kind,” I admonished.
“No, I don’t suppose it is. But she was pathetic as a teacher. She
had no business even trying it in the first place. But I don’t suppose there
was anything she could do. She wasn’t the least bit pretty like you, which was
at least one point in her favor.”
“What an awful thing to say,” I emitted, shocked.
“Maybe so,” Ellen relented only momentarily, for she went on
bluntly again. “She was nice, and that was her problem. The children ran all
over her. She wanted to do well, but couldn’t keep the horde of barbarians
under control. They didn’t learn much from her, which was a shame, because the
girl had some brains and a lot more education than I did. But it takes more
than formal knowledge to make a schoolteacher. A strong hand can be more
beneficial than ten textbooks.”
“I don’t think I could use corporal punishment,” I admitted. “You
won’t have to as long as you have latrines to dig and play yards to plow,”
Ellen Greer chortled gleefully. “I would have loved to have seen the Poole boys
at that. Your looks are going to come in handy where they’re concerned. From
what I’ve heard, both boys have perched you high on a pedestal and labeled you
their first love.”
“I wouldn’t go so far as that,” I disagreed, while remembering the
calf-eyed look Sherman had cast me recently.
“Don’t be modest! And besides, they show surprising taste, I’d
say. I’d little hope of those two ever showing the least bit of intelligence,
though I know they do have it hidden away somewhere upstairs beneath all that
curly hair.”
“They are bright,” I agreed.
“They didn’t get it from Bertie or Branford. They must be
throwbacks to some other relative long forgotten.”
I laughed.
“I had both in my class—the parents first, then the two boys; so
I’m not talking through my hat,” Ellen told me defensively.
“How on earth did you ever last fifty-five years?” I asked, still
laughing and thinking her the most outspoken and least tactful person I’d ever
met.
“Following a few basic rules, which I will now kindly pass on to
you,” she said seriously. “I kept my thoughts to myself, believe it or not. I
obeyed the rules as closely as possible, and when I had to break them, I didn’t
apologize or take any guff from the likes of James Olmstead.”
She tapped her cane on the floor. “And there’s another thing it’ll
help you to know. Schoolteachers are hard to come by. It’s a thankless job for
the most part. Of course, there are bright spots ahead of you.”
“For example?” I asked wryly.
“You may have some gifted student who will make every dumb one
worthwhile.”
“You did?”
“Indeed, I did. He only went here until he was fourteen. Then his
mother took my advice and shipped him off back East to finish his schooling.
He’d long since learned everything I could teach him, and he was hungry for more.
He went on through Harvard and got his law degree. He was even offered a
position in the best firm in Boston.” Ellen’s voice softened, and she looked
out the window. “I was real proud of him.” She did not speak for a minute and
then looked at me.
“Of course, he made some stupid mistakes along the way, like
marrying himself a brainless, selfish little society girl.” She shook her head
in disgust, then waved her hand in her characteristic gesture of dismissal.
“Oh, but enough on that. It’s ancient history. Anyway, you’ll have your bright
spots. One Jordan Bennett makes all the Berties worth it.”
“Jordan Bennett?” I choked.
“You’ve met him, have you?”
“Yes.” I couldn’t help the way I said it, or the way I looked
after I said it.
Ellen Greer leaned forward, her sharp eyes curious. “Do I take it
you don’t like him?”
“You take it correctly,” I muttered under my breath. “And believe
me, the
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