Katherines Sheaves | Page 5

moment, tolerate the promulgation of its
fallacious teachings in this school. I trust I make myself understood."
Katherine had not once removed her clear, brown eyes from his
countenance during this speech, but there was not the slightest

manifestation of resentment on her own--only an expression of tender
regret, as if she were sorry for him, because of the sense of discord that
seemed to hold possession of him.
"You mean that I am not to talk it here?" she said.
"Exactly; nor flaunt it in any way."
"I will not, sir," with gentle gravity; then a little smile curving her red
lips, she added: "Christian Science, Prof. Seabrook, is a religion of
Love, and I will simply try to live it."
The principal of Hilton flushed to his brows before this unassuming girl,
a circumstance unprecedented in the annals of the institution.
Her look, her tone, the softly spoken words--all radiated love, and his
arrogant spirit felt the gentle rebuke.
"Have you that book, 'Science and Health,' with you?" he curtly
demanded.
Katherine's heart leaped within her. Did he mean to deprive her of her
daily bread?
"Yes, sir," with unfaltering glance and voice.
"Then keep it out of sight," he briefly commanded, adding, in a tone of
dismissal, as he took up his pen: "That is all, Miss Minturn."
Katherine bowed respectfully, then quietly followed Jennie Wild from
the room.
CHAPTER II.
KATHERINE AND HER ROOMMATE.
As the two girls were passing through the main building on their way to
number fifteen, west wing, Katherine turned to her companion and
observed, in a friendly tone:

"So this is your first year in Hilton Seminary, Miss Wild?"
Jennie, who had been "just boiling"--as she told her later--over the
professor's recent crankiness and severity, turned to Katherine in
unfeigned surprise, for there was not the slightest trace of resentment or
personal affront in either her voice or manner.
Her brown eyes were as serene as a May morning; her scarlet lips were
parted in a sunny smile that just disclosed her white, even teeth, and her
voice was clear and sweet, without even a quiver to betray emotion of
any kind.
Jennie Wild was a girl of many moods. Possessing the kindest heart in
the world, and ever ready to run her nimble feet off to do any one a
good turn, she was at the same time a veritable little "snapdragon."
Touch her ever so lightly, and off she would go into paroxysms of
mirth or rage, sympathy or scorn, as the case might be. Consequently
she had looked for an outburst, or at least some manifestation, of
indignation on Katherine's part, over the principal's recent sharpness
and ungracious treatment.
"Yes, I'm a freshie," the girl replied, with a nod and one of her comical
grimaces, but still curiously studying the placid face beside her, "but
I'm not here as you are. I'm a working student"-- this with a rising flush
and defiant toss of her pert little head.
"'A working student?'" repeated Katherine, inquiringly.
"That's what I said," laconically. "I can't afford to pay full tuition, so I
wait on Prof. Seabrook and his wife, and do other kinds of work to
make up the rest. You see"--the flush creeping higher, but with a secret
determination to "sound" the new junior- -"I haven't any father or
mother, and my aunt, who has always taken care of me, is poor, and
there was no other way to finish my education after leaving the high
school--see?"
"Yes, I understand, and I think you are a dear, brave girl to do it," said
Katherine, with shining eyes, and laying a friendly hand on her

shoulder as they began to mount the stairs leading to the second story.
"Do you--truly?" queried Jennie, with a glad ring in her tones. "My! I
believe I feel two inches taller for that"--throwing back her head
proudly; "you've given me a lift, Miss Minturn, that I shan't forget;
nobody has ever said anything so kind to me before. I tell
you"--confidentially--"it does take a lot of courage sometimes to buckle
on to a hard lesson, after running up and downstairs forty times a day,
besides no end of other things to do. Most of the girls are pretty good to
me; though, now and then, there's one who thinks she was cut out of
finer cloth. I dote on the professor, even if he does get a bit cranky
sometimes, like to-day, when something ruffles his stately feathers. His
wife is lovely, too, and the teachers are all nice. But don't call me Miss
Wild, please. I'm 'Jennie' to everybody. 'Wild Jennie' most of the girls
call me, and there really is a harum-scarum streak in me that does get
the best of me sometimes," she concluded, with a