Daddy-Long-Legs | Page 4

What could have gone wrong, she wondered. Were the sandwiches not
thin enough? Were there shells in the nut cakes? Had a lady visitor seen
the hole in Susie Hawthorn's stocking? Had--O horrors!-- one of the
cherubic little babes in her own room F `sauced' a Trustee?
The long lower hall had not been lighted, and as she came downstairs, a
last Trustee stood, on the point of departure, in the open door that led to
the porte-cochere. Jerusha caught only a fleeting impression of the
man--and the impression consisted entirely of tallness. He was waving
his arm towards an automobile waiting in the curved drive. As it sprang
into motion and approached, head on for an instant, the glaring

headlights threw his shadow sharply against the wall inside. The
shadow pictured grotesquely elongated legs and arms that ran along the
floor and up the wall of the corridor. It looked, for all the world, like a
huge, wavering daddy-long-legs.
Jerusha's anxious frown gave place to quick laughter. She was by
nature a sunny soul, and had always snatched the tiniest excuse to be
amused. If one could derive any sort of entertainment out of the
oppressive fact of a Trustee, it was something unexpected to the good.
She advanced to the office quite cheered by the tiny episode, and
presented a smiling face to Mrs. Lippett. To her surprise the matron
was also, if not exactly smiling, at least appreciably affable; she wore
an expression almost as pleasant as the one she donned for visitors.
`Sit down, Jerusha, I have something to say to you.' Jerusha dropped
into the nearest chair and waited with a touch of breathlessness. An
automobile flashed past the window; Mrs. Lippett glanced after it.
`Did you notice the gentleman who has just gone?'
`I saw his back.'
`He is one of our most affluential Trustees, and has given large sums of
money towards the asylum's support. I am not at liberty to mention his
name; he expressly stipulated that he was to remain unknown.'
Jerusha's eyes widened slightly; she was not accustomed to being
summoned to the office to discuss the eccentricities of Trustees with
the matron.
`This gentleman has taken an interest in several of our boys. You
remember Charles Benton and Henry Freize? They were both sent
through college by Mr.--er--this Trustee, and both have repaid with
hard work and success the money that was so generously expended.
Other payment the gentleman does not wish. Heretofore his
philanthropies have been directed solely towards the boys; I have never
been able to interest him in the slightest degree in any of the girls in the
institution, no matter how deserving. He does not, I may tell you, care

for girls.'
`No, ma'am,' Jerusha murmured, since some reply seemed to be
expected at this point.
`To-day at the regular meeting, the question of your future was brought
up.'
Mrs. Lippett allowed a moment of silence to fall, then resumed in a
slow, placid manner extremely trying to her hearer's suddenly tightened
nerves.
`Usually, as you know, the children are not kept after they are sixteen,
but an exception was made in your case. You had finished our school at
fourteen, and having done so well in your studies--not always, I must
say, in your conduct--it was determined to let you go on in the village
high school. Now you are finishing that, and of course the asylum
cannot be responsible any longer for your support. As it is, you have
had two years more than most.'
Mrs. Lippett overlooked the fact that Jerusha had worked hard for her
board during those two years, that the convenience of the asylum had
come first and her education second; that on days like the present she
was kept at home to scrub.
`As I say, the question of your future was brought up and your record
was discussed--thoroughly discussed.'
Mrs. Lippett brought accusing eyes to bear upon the prisoner in the
dock, and the prisoner looked guilty because it seemed to be expected--
not because she could remember any strikingly black pages in her
record.
`Of course the usual disposition of one in your place would be to put
you in a position where you could begin to work, but you have done
well in school in certain branches; it seems that your work in English
has even been brilliant. Miss Pritchard, who is on our visiting
committee, is also on the school board; she has been talking with your

rhetoric teacher, and made a speech in your favour. She also read aloud
an essay that you had written entitled, "Blue Wednesday".'
Jerusha's guilty expression this time was not assumed.
`It seemed to me that you showed little gratitude in holding up to
ridicule the institution that has done so