Annie Kilburn

She let Mrs. Bolton go to the door, and she did not rise to meet the

doctor; she saw from his smile that he knew he had a moral rather than a

physical trouble to deal with, but she did not relax the severity of her

glare in sympathy, as she was tempted from some infinite remoteness to do.

When he said, "You're not well," she whispered solemnly back, "Not at all."

He did not pursue his inquiry into her condition, but said, with an

irrelevant cheerfulness that piqued her, "I was coming here this evening

at any rate, and I got your message on the way up from my office."

"You are very kind," she said, a little more audibly.

"I wanted to tell you," he went on, "of what a time Putney and I have had

to-day working up public sentiment for Mr. Peck, so as to keep him here."

Annie did not change her position, but the expression of her glance

changed.

"We've been round in the enemy's camp, everywhere; and I've committed

Gerrish himself to an armed neutrality. That wasn't difficult. The

difficulty was in another quarter--with Mr. Peck himself. He's more opposed

than any one else to his stay in Hatboro'. You know he intended going away

this morning?"

"Did he?" Annie asked dishonestly. The question obliged her to say

something.

"Yes. He came to Putney before breakfast to thank him and take leave of

him, and to tell him of the plan he had for--Imagine what!"

"I don't know," said Annie, hoarsely, after an effort, as if the untruth

would not come easily. "I am worse than Mrs. Munger," she thought.

"For going to Fall River to teach school among the mill-hands' children!

And to open a night-school for the hands themselves."

The doctor waited for her sensation, and in its absence he looked so

disappointed that she was forced to say, "To teach school?"

Then he went on briskly again. "Yes. Putney laboured with him on his knees,

so to speak, and got him to postpone his going till to-morrow morning; and

then he came to me for help. We enlisted Mrs. Wilmington in the cause, and

we've spent the day working up the Peck sentiment to a fever-heat. It's

been a very queer campaign; three Gentiles toiling for a saint against

the elect, and bringing them all over at last. We've got a paper, signed

by a large majority of the members of the church--the church, not the

society--asking Mr. Peck to remain; and Putney's gone to him with the

paper, and he's coming round here to report Mr. Peck's decision. We all

agreed that it wouldn't do to say anything about his plan for the future,

and I fancy some of his people signed our petition under the impression

that they were keeping a valuable man out of another pulpit."