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Updated: May 10, 2025
When not long after came the mid-year examinations. The girls had been working hard all the week and were tired. Examinations had ended the day before and they had about reached the limit for that week. February was the month most dreaded of all the eight. The last period of each day was twelve to one, the juniors had history and English literature under Miss Baylis.
I wouldn't tell Jane Baylis my affairs my new affairs, gentlemen, thanks to you not for two annuities, paid twice a week!" "Take Mrs. Gutch downstairs, Spargo, and see her all right, and then come to my room," said the editor. "And don't you forget, Mrs. Gutch keep a quiet tongue in your head no more talk or there'll be no annuities on Saturday mornings."
"You never remember anything of your childhood I mean of any person who was particularly near you in your childhood?" "I remember the people who brought me up from the time I was three years old. And I have just a faint, shadowy recollection of some woman, a tall, dark woman, I think, before that." "Miss Baylis," said Spargo to himself. "All right, Breton," he went on aloud.
He was quick to turn his fancy to practical purpose. "Oh, easy enough!" he said. "I could find out all about Maitland's family through that boy. Quite, quite easily!" Miss Baylis had stopped now, and stood glaring at him. "How?" she demanded. "I'll tell you," said Spargo with cheerful alacrity. "It is, of course, the easiest thing in the world to trace all about his short life.
"It's bribes, Miss Baylis," said poor Electra, covered with confusion and blushes. "Exactly. The greatest simpleton would understand that. Are you more familiar with bricks than bribes?" It was a cruel thrust under the circumstances, and Miss Baylis had the grace to blush at the look of scorn which darted from Beverly's eyes straight into her own and the curl which Aileen's lips held.
Oh, Miss Woodhull's so deadly afraid she won't uphold the dignity of dear Bosting and her Massy Alma Mater that she almost dies under the burden, but thank goodness, we don't see much of her, and Miss Baylis is such a fool we laugh behind her back. She's trying to make herself solid with the Empress because she thinks she will succeed to her honors when the high and mighty lady retires.
A new England state is under the political domination of a railway and Mr, Crewe, a millionaire, seizes a moment when the cause of the people is being espoused by an ardent young attorney, to further his own interest in a political way. The daughter of the railway president plays no small part in the situation. THE CROSSING. Illustrated by S. Adamson and L. Baylis.
Accordingly he went along the corridor into which he had seen Miss Baylis turn. He knew that all the doors in that house were double ones, and that the outer oak in each was solid and substantial enough to be sound proof. Yet, as men will under such circumstances, he walked softly; he said to himself, smiling at the thought, that he would be sure to start if somebody suddenly opened a door on him.
Agreeable with Miss Woodhull's orders, Miss Baylis, who was only too delighted to shine so advantageously in her superior's eyes, had scuttled away, issuing as she went, the order to close all outer doors and guard them, allowing no one to pass through. Guileless souls both hers and Miss Woodhull's, though another adjective might possibly be more apt. The house had a few windows as well as doors.
"I never heard of him again," she declared passionately, "and I only hope that what you tell me is true, and that Marbury really was Maitland!" Spargo, having exhausted the list of questions which he had thought out on his way to Bayswater, was about to take his leave of Miss Baylis, when a new idea suddenly occurred to him, and he turned back to that formidable lady.
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