Helen with the High Hand | Page 9

little taken aback he is to be excused. Younger men than he
have been taken aback by that discovery. But James Ollerenshaw did
not behave as a younger man would have behaved. He was more like
some one who, having heard tell of the rose for sixty years, and having
paid no attention to rumour, suddenly sees a rose in early bloom. At his
age one knows how to treat a flower; one knows what flowers are for.
It was no doubt this knowledge of what flowers are for that almost led
to the spilling of milk at the very moment when milk-spilling seemed in
a high degree improbable.
The conversation had left Susan and her caprices, and had reached
Helen and her solid wisdom.
"But you haven't told me what you're doing i' Bosley," said the old
man.
"I've told you I'm living here," said Helen. "I've now been living here
for one week and one day. I'm teaching at the Park Road Board School.
I got transferred from Longshaw. I never liked Longshaw, and I always
like a change."
"Yes," said Ollerenshaw, judiciously, "of the two I reckon as Bosley is
the frying-pan. So you're teaching up yonder?" He jerked his elbow in
the direction of the spacious and imposing terra-cotta Board School,
whose front looked on the eastern gates of the park. "What dost teach?"
"Oh, everything," Helen replied.
"You must be very useful to 'em," said James. "What do they pay you

for teaching everything?"
"Seventy-two pounds," said Helen.
"A month? It 'ud be cheap at a hundred, lass; unless there's a whole
crowd on ye as can teach everything. Can you sew?"
"Sew!" she exclaimed. "I've given lessons in sewing for years. And
cookery. And mathematics. I used to give evening lessons in
mathematics at Longshaw secondary school."
Great-stepuncle James gazed at her. It was useless for him to try to
pretend to himself that he was not, secretly, struck all of a heap by the
wonders of the living organism in front of him. He was. And this shows,
though he was a wise man and an experienced, how ignorant he was of
the world. But I do not think he was more ignorant of the world than
most wise and experienced men are. He conceived Helen Rathbone as
an extraordinary, an amazing creature. Nothing of the kind. There are
simply thousands of agreeable and good girls who can accomplish
herring-bone, omelettes, and simultaneous equations in a breath, as it
were. They are all over the kingdom, and may be seen in the streets and
lanes thereof about half-past eight in the morning and again about five
o'clock in the evening. But the fact is not generally known. Only the
stern and blasé members of School Boards or Education Committees
know it. And they are so used to marvels that they make nothing of
them.
However, James Ollerenshaw had no intention of striking his flag.
"Mathematics!" he murmured. "I lay you can't tell me the interest on
eighty-nine pounds for six months at four and a half per cent."
Consols happened to be at eighty-nine that day.
Her lips curled. "I'm really quite surprised you should encourage me to
gamble," said she. "But I'll bet you a shilling I can. And I'll bet you one
shilling against half-a-crown that I do it in my head, if you like. And if
I lose I'll pay."

She made a slight movement, and he noticed for the first time that she
was carrying a small purse as black as her glove.
He hesitated, and then he proved what a wise and experienced man he
was.
"No," he said, "I'll none bet ye, lass."
He had struck his flag.
It is painful to be compelled to reinforce the old masculine statement
that women have no sense of honour. But have they? Helen clearly saw
that he had hauled down his flag. Yet did she cease firing? Not a bit.
She gave him a shattering broadside, well knowing that he had
surrendered. Her disregard of the ethics of warfare was deplorable.
"Two pounds and one half-penny--to the nearest farthing," said she, a
faint blush crimsoning her cheek.
Mr. Ollerenshaw glanced round at the bowling-green, where the captain
in vain tried to catch his eye, and then at the groups of children playing
on the lower terraces.
"I make no doubt ye can play the piano?" he remarked, when he had
recovered.
"Certainly," she replied. "Not that we have to teach the piano. No! But
it's understood, all the same, that one or another of us can play marches
for the children to walk and drill to. In fact," she added, "for something
less than thirty shillings a week we do pretty nearly everything, except
build the schools. And soon they'll be