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The reader will imagine that in the present instance M'liss and Clytie were preeminent and divided public attention: M'liss with her clearness of material perception and self- reliance, and Clytie with her placid self-esteem and saintlike correctness of deportment. The other little ones were timid and blundering.
I have also been in the receipt of correspondence from distant readers, one letter of which I recall signed by an "Honest Miner," who advises me to "do the right thing by M'liss," or intimates somewhat obscurely that he will "bust my crust for me," which, though complimentary in its abstract expression of interest, and implying a taste for euphonism, evinces an innate coarseness which I fear may blunt his perceptions of delicate shades and Greek outlines.
"He is bashful," reasoned Clytie to herself. "This girl is a tremendous fool," growled the master inwardly. An awkward pause ensued. Finally, Clytie loquitur: "M'liss has been missing since the fire!" "Missing?" echoed the master in his natural tone. Clytie bit her lip with vexation. "Yes, she's always running away. She'll be back again. But you look interested.
Gray took the proffered seat. M'liss then, fixing her eyes on some distant part of the view, remained for some moments in silence. Then, without turning her head or moving her eyes, she asked: "What's that they call a girl that has money left her?" "An heiress, M'liss?" "Yes, an heiress." "Well?" said Mr. Gray. "Well," said M'liss, without moving her eyes, "I'm one, I'm a heiress!"
A groan burst from McSnagley, an expression of astonishment from the schoolroom, and a yell from the windows, as M'liss brought her red fist down on the desk, with the emphatic declaration: "It's a d n lie. I don't believe it!" The long wet season had drawn near its close. Signs of spring were visible in the swelling buds and rushing torrents. The pine forests exhaled a fresher spicery.
Melissa's heart was touched. In the bitter days of her gypsy life she had known the sensation he so artfully simulated. Overcome by his heartbroken tone, but not entirely divested of suspicion, she said: "Dig under the tree near the roots, and you 'll find lots: but mind you don't tell," for M'liss had her hoards as well as the rats and squirrels.
Such were the antecedents and such the character of M'liss, as she stood before the master. It was shown in the ragged dress, the unkempt hair and bleeding feet, and asked his pity. It flashed from her black fearless eyes, and commanded his respect. "I come here to-night," she said rapidly and boldly, keeping her hard glance on his, "because I knew you was alone.
But neither threats nor entreaties could extract from that reticent youth the whereabout of the memorandum book nor where he got it. Two or three days afterward, during recess, he approached M'liss, and beckoned her one side. "Well," said M'liss impatiently. "Did you ever read the story of 'Ali Baba'?" "Yes." "Do you believe it?" "No."
Still the figure of M'liss stood before the master as he bent before the doctor's words, in the same defiant attitude, with something of scorn in the great dark eyes, that made the blood tingle in his cheeks, and seemed to make the reasoning of the speaker but meaningless and empty words. At length he rose. As he stood with his hand on the latch he turned to Dr.
M'liss only repeated her question. "And what if I did kill him?" said the prisoner savagely; "what's that to you, you young hell-cat? Guard! damnation! what do you let her come here for? Do you hear? Guard!" he screamed, rising in a transport of passion, "take her away! fling her downstairs! What the h ll is she doing here?"