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Updated: June 12, 2025
"Thinking it over," said Hattie, "I'll join; one owes something to class-spirit." "It's so alluring the sound," said Rosalie. "A secret anything." Miss MacLauren, thinking it over, herself, after she reached home that day, suddenly laughed. It was at dinner. Uncle Charlie looked up at his niece, whom he knew as Emmy Lou, not, as yet, having met Miss MacLauren.
Miss MacLauren did not express herself, but when it came to the vote, Miss MacLauren said "Aye." The "Ayes" had it. Then, all at once, the Platonians became aware of Miss Kilrain, whom they had momentarily forgotten. Miss Kilrain was sitting in deprecating silence, and the Platonians had a sudden consciousness that it was the silence of disapproval.
They travel through labyrinthian paths who seek for understanding. The sun went down; the dusk grew chill. Emily Louise sat on the door-step, chin in palm. Double names are childish things; therefore Emmy Lou entered the high school as Emily MacLauren. Her disapproval of the arrangements she found there was decided.
Miss Kilrain, always gave the details of her private happenings to her listeners. "Just mention my name in writing, and say I told you to ask for an advertisement." The Chairman gave the slip to Miss MacLauren to attend to. Miss MacLauren had seen the name before on all the new text-books this year introduced into the High School. "How will I write this?"
The first-fruits of fame are sweet; and as an Athenian might have regarded an invitation into Olympus, so Miss MacLauren looked upon this opening into Platonia. As a Freshman, on Friday afternoons, she had noted certain of the upper pupils strolling about the building after dismissal, clothed, in lieu of hats and jackets, with large importance.
The Second-Reader Teacher was the lady, the nice lady, the pretty lady with white hair, who patted little girls on the cheek as she passed them in the hall. On the first day of school, the name of "Emily Louise MacLauren" had been called. Emmy Lou stood up. She looked at the Teacher. She wondered if the Teacher remembered. Emmy Lou was chubby and round and much in earnest.
"To the victors belong the spoils," she said with sprightly humour, "and it will, at least, narrow the choice. I will ask those young ladies whose fathers chance to be of a Republican way of thinking to please arise." A silence followed a silence of disappointment to the many; then Emily Louise MacLauren arose. Was retribution following thus fast because of that subterfuge of Mugwump?
Hattie thought Rosalie frivolous, and Rosalie scribbled notes under the nose of Hattie's brilliant recitations. Miss MacLauren, on the neutral ground of a non-combatant, was expected by each to furnish the admiration and applause. Hattie's was the Field of Learning, and she stood, with obstacles trod under heel, crowned with honours.
Miss MacLauren felt disconcerted, the bubble of her elation seemed pricked, until she began to think about it. Hattie and Rosalie were not asked to become Platonians; did they make light of the honour because it was not their honour? Each seeks to be victor in some Field of Achievement, but each is jealous of the other's Field.
A few steps farther on, they met Miss Kilrain, the new teacher at the High School. It was just as Miss MacLauren was laughing an embarrassed laugh to hide the blush. Miss Kilrain looked at them coldly, one was conscious of her disapproval. Miss Kilrain's name had been up that very afternoon in the Society for honorary membership. All teachers were made honorary members.
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