The Friend of Women and Other Stories by Louis Auchincloss Page B

his of me, was always kind and courteous; he could afford to shed his benignity on creatures in whom the least spark of independence had been effectively quashed. The poor woman had little or no social life, as the faculty wives had no use for her and the local villagers never cultivated the school staff. She was enchanted to come to us when asked and partook a bit too freely of the sherry I offered her.
    On one such visit the three of us happened to be discussing the approaching end-of-year departure of a history teacher who had accepted what he evidently considered a better offer to teach at Groton. Miss Snyder hinted darkly that it was just as well that he had decided to go.
    â€œWhy is that?” I asked. “Was Mr. Higgins in some kind of trouble here?”
    Miss Snyder looked cryptic. “Well, I shouldn’t say anything, but...” She paused.
    â€œOh, come on, Ethelinda,” my wife intervened. “You know how discreet Percy and I are. And we’re dying for some juicy tidbit to liven up our dull lives. Don’t be stuffy.”
    â€œWell, I happen to know that Dr. Lockwood had a letter from the father of a fifth former complaining that Mr. Higgins had written his son a letter in the summer vacation that the father considered to be couched in rather too affectionate terms.”
    â€œIf Lockwood kicks out every master who’s done
that,
” Hilda asserted roundly, “he may have to get a new faculty.”
    â€œBut that’s the way he is,” Miss Snyder said hurriedly. “He’s death on that subject. So when the letter from Groton came, he passed it right on to Mr. Higgins.”
    â€œDidn’t he have to do that anyway?” I demanded in some surprise. “Why didn’t Groton write directly to Higgins?”
    â€œOh, that’s not the etiquette,” Miss Snyder explained. “If you want a teacher from another school, you write first to his headmaster.” She giggled. “And you won’t be too surprised, I’m sure, to learn that some of those letters stick to Dr. Lockwood’s desk.”
    â€œYou mean he doesn’t forward them?”
    â€œI mean nothing else. Dr. Lockwood doesn’t hesitate to take on himself the decision to sit on letters which might result in his losing a teacher he thinks valuable to the school.”
    Miss Snyder looked at us here with a sly wink. She evidently loved showing her intimate knowledge of the habits of the great. The sherry was doing its work.
    â€œBut what would he say to the headmaster making the offer?”
    â€œOh, he would simply write that the teacher whom the other school wanted was happy at Averhill.”
    â€œEthelinda, you’re fantasizing!”
    â€œWhat makes you so sure of that, Percy?” my wife now indignantly injected. “Really, your subservience to that old slave driver is becoming obsessive. If you were a black, I’d call you an Uncle Tom!”
    â€œBut, Hilda, Ethelinda doesn’t seem to realize what she’s saying!” I was really hot now. “It’s one thing to call a man a slave driver. It’s quite another to call him a crook. To accuse him of telling lies in order to cheat an employee out of the chance to better himself! Think of it! It’s preposterous!”
    Miss Snyder was now aroused to defend her veracity at any cost. Her cheeks were dyed a mottled red. “How would you like to know what happened in your own case, Percy Goodheart? You, who seem to know everything? Did I not myself type a letter to Dr. Cram of the Derby School explaining that you were too happy with your position at Averhill to ever think of leaving?”
    â€œOh, my god!” This was from Hilda. “That must have been what my friend Anita Hunt was hinting at! Her husband is a master at Derby, and she told me he had suggested to the headmaster that Percy might be a possibility as head of the lower school!”
    Miss Snyder, realizing