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Ida Slome possessed, along with an entire self-satisfaction, a vein of pitiless sense, which enabled her to see herself as others might see her, and which saved her from the follies often incident to the self-satisfied.
For the first time since she had been to school, Miss Slome, who was radiant in a flowered muslin, came up to her and embraced her. Maria submitted coldly to the embrace. "You sweet little thing," said Miss Slome. There was a man principal of the school, but Miss Slome was first assistant, and Maria was in most of her classes.
Lee told Aunt Maria that Wollaston could wipe dishes and sweep as well as a girl." Miss Slome laughed. "And I've got a bad temper, too, when I'm crossed; mother always said so," said Maria. Her lip quivered. Miss Slome left her desk, came over to Maria, and, in spite of her shrinking away, caught her in her arms. "You are a little darling," said she, "and I am not a bit afraid of your temper."
Maria looked at Miss Slome, and, to her utter indignation, the teacher's lips were twitching, and it took a good deal to make Miss Slome laugh, too; she had not much sense of humor. In a second Wollaston stole a furtive glance at Miss Slome, which was an absurd parody on a glance of a man under similar circumstances, and Miss Slome, who had had experience in such matters, laughed outright.
Ida Slome is that kind." "I think she is selfish myself," said Maria, "but I don't believe she can leave Evelyn as long as that." "Wait and see," said Aunt Maria, in much the same tone that her brother had used towards his wife. Maria Stillman was right. Evelyn remained in Amity. She outgrew Maria's school, and attended the Normal School in Westbridge.
She was not so very old, in her early thirties, but the early thirties to a young girl are venerable. Miss Ida Slome was called a beauty. She, as well as Maria, wore a pink dress, at which Maria privately wondered. The teacher seemed to her too old to wear pink. She thought she ought wear black like her mother.
Maria never settled with herself whether the Whites thought she had a pleasant prospect before her or the reverse, but they did not certainly influence her to love Miss Ida Slome any more. Miss Slome was so kind to Maria, in those days, that it really seemed to her that she ought to love her.
She went home with Miss Slome when she was asked, but she was never gracious in response to the doll-like smile, and the caressing words, which were to her as automatic as the smile. Sometimes it seemed to Maria that if she could only have her own mother scold her, instead of Miss Slome's talking so sweetly to her, she would give the whole world.
Have you taken your pink pellet?" "Poor little Maria, too," said Mrs. White. "Good gracious, ma, don't you take to worryin' over her," said Lillian. "Here's your pink pellet. A young one dressed up the way she was to-day!" "Dress ain't everything, and nothin' is goin' to make me believe that Ida Slome is a good mother to her, nor to her own child neither. It ain't in her."
She hesitated a moment, looking at the child's averted face, and coloring. "My dear, has your father told you?" she whispered; then, "I didn't know he had." "No, ma'am, he hasn't," said Maria. She fairly pulled herself loose from Miss Slome and ran out of the room. Her eyes were almost blinded with tears; she could scarcely see Wollaston Lee on the road, ahead of her, also running.
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