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Updated: June 6, 2025
"No, she wasn't in the orchard," he said, "for I was there." "No, I wasn't in the orchard this evening," said Euphronia. "I went after the cows." She looked down in her plate. Keith ate the rest of his supper in silence. He could not tell on Ferdy; that would not be "square." He consulted his mentor, his chief, who simply laughed at him. "Leave 'em alone," he counselled.
He had taught some folks this with a cut of his eye over toward where Jake Dennison sat big and brown in the placid content of a young giant, fanning Euphronia for life he had "taught some folks that a door had to be right strong to keep out a teacher as knowed his business." Anyhow, they were satisfied with him, and the trustees had voted to employ him another year, but he had declined.
When Miss Euphronia Tripper, after a half-hour or more of careful and palpitating work before her mirror, descended the old straight stairway, she was a very different person from the round-faced, plump school-girl whom Ferdy, as a lad, had flirted with under the apple-trees three or four years before.
Then his eyes half closed again, veiling their flash of hostility. "F.C. Wickershaw and Euphronia Trimmer?" he repeated half aloud, shaking his head. "No, I don't remember any such names. No, I never united in the bonds of matrimony any persons of those names. I am quite positive." He spoke decisively. "No, not Wickershaw F.C. Wickersham and Euphronia Tripper. Ferdy Wickersham you know him.
Euphronia had not at first taken much notice of him. She had been inclined to regard Ferdy Wickersham with some disfavor as a Yankee; but when the other two failed her, Wickersham fell heir to her blandishments. Her indifference to him had piqued him and awakened an interest which possibly he might not otherwise have felt.
But he was too late; the whole truth was dawning on Mrs. Lancaster. A faint likeness had come to her, a memory of a far-back time. She ignored him, and stepped closer to the bed. "What is your name?" she asked in a kind voice, bending toward the woman and taking her hand. "Euphronia Tripper; but I am now Mrs. Wickersham. He married us." She turned her deep eyes on Mr. Rimmon.
Jake was in all the splendor of a black coat and a gilded watch-chain, for he had been down to the Ridge to see Miss Euphronia Tripper. It had been a misty day, and toward evening the mist had changed into a drizzle. Keith said to Terpsichore, with some annoyance: "You had better go inside. It's going to be a bad night." A slight change came over her face, and she hesitated.
"Wall, if you did, I warn't speakin' to you," said Jacob Dennison, surlily. "Well, when you speak in school, address yourself to me," said Keith. He caught Euphronia Tripper's eyes on him. "I mought an' I moughtn't," said Jacob, insolently. "I propose to see that you do." Jacob's reply was something between a grunt and a sneer, and the school rustled with a sound very much like applause.
"I never heard it till till just now," she defended, rather shaken by his tone and air of candor. "When? "Oh very recently." "Won't you tell me who told you?" "No o. Go on." "Well, that woman that poor girl her name was her name is Phrony Tripper or Trimmer. I think that was her name she called herself Euphronia Tripper." He was trying with puckered brow to recall exactly.
Will the fair Euphronia also have undergone fifteen transmigrations, and will her charms have continued unimpaired?"
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