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Getz's statements to-night were to be merely a more forcible repetition of his previous arguments. But scarcely had he cleared his throat to begin, when there was a knock on the door; it opened, and, to their amazement, Tillie walked into the room.
In the first place, Fairchilds was "an UNbeliever," and therefore his influence was baneful; he was Jacob Getz's enemy, and therefore no fit person to be writing friendly letters to his daughter; he asked Tillie, in his letter, to write to him, and this would involve the buying of stationery and wasting of time that might be better spent; and finally, he and Tillie, as he painfully gathered from the letter, were "making up" to a degree that might end in her wanting to marry the fellow.
Tillie flushed and paled by turns as it drew near, and her aunt rolled out the paste with a vigor and an emphasis that expressed her inward agitation. Even Fairchilds, in the next room, felt himself infected with the prevailing suspense. "Well!" was Jake Getz's greeting as he entered the kitchen. "Em!" he nodded to his sister. "Well, Tillie!"
Mr. Getz's reasons for withholding the letter from his daughter and burning it were several.
The teacher, stripped of his two coats and bound hand and foot, was rolled over on his face. He uttered no word of protest, though they all saw that he had recovered consciousness. The truth was, he simply recognized the uselessness of demurring. "Warm him up, so he don't take cold!" shouted Absalom and even as he spoke, Jake Getz's heavy arm brought the lash down upon Fairchilds's back.
Or he was afraid she would be unable to help him to-morrow, and maybe for many days, out in the celery-beds. That was why he spoke anxiously not because he liked her and was sorry. No bitterness was mingled with Tillie's quite matter-of-fact acceptance of these conclusions. "It would be a good much trouble to us if she was took down with the smallpox," Mrs. Getz's tired voice replied.
Jacob Getz's face turned apoplectic with rage. "Who took it to Lancaster fur you?" "I sent it." "What fur bank?" "I prefer not to tell you that." "You PERFER! I'll learn you PERFER! Who took it in fur you and what fur bank? Answer to me!" "Father, the money is mine." "It's no such thing! You ain't but seventeen. And I don't care if you're eighteen or even twenty-one!
Before his dazed wits could recover from the shock of this announcement, Jake Getz's daughter had become the unanimously elected teacher of William Penn.
With this telling climax, the significance of which Miss Margaret could hardly mistake, the doctor fell back again in his chair, and regarded with complacency the comely young woman before him. But before she could collect her shocked wits to reply, the entrance of Jake Getz's son, Sammy, interrupted them.
"I was forced to believe," he went on, "when I saw Jake Getz's fearful anxiety and real distress while Tillie remained unconscious, that the fellow, after all, does have a heart of flesh under all his brutality. He had never seen a woman faint, and he thought at first that Tillie was dead. We almost had HIM on our hands unconscious!"
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