"Thank you," returned Miss Taylor, reddening with pleasure despite herself. There was a real sincerity in the tone. All this confirmed so many convictions of hers.
"Of course, you know how it is in the South," Cresswell pursued, the opening having been so easily accomplished.
"I understand perfectly."
"My sister would be delighted to meet you, but--"
"Oh I realize the--difficulties."
"Perhaps you wouldn't mind riding by some day--it's embarrassing to suggest this, but, you know--"
Miss Taylor was perfectly self-possessed.
"Mr. Cresswell," she said seriously, "I know very well that it wouldn't do for your sister to call here, and I sha'n't mind a bit coming by to see her first. I don't believe in standing on stupid ceremony."
Cresswell thanked her with quiet cordiality, and suggested that when he was driving by he might pick her up in his gig some morning. Miss Taylor expressed her pleasure at the prospect. Then the talk wandered to general matters--the rain, the trees, the people round about, and, inevitably--the Negro.
"Oh, by the bye," said Mr. Cresswell, frowning and hesitating over the recollection of his errand's purpose, "there was one matter"--he paused. Miss Taylor leant forward, all interest. "I hardly know that I ought to mention it, but your school--"
This charming young lady disarmed his truculent spirit, and the usually collected and determined young man was at a loss how to proceed. The girl, however, was obviously impressed and pleased by his evidence of interest, whatever its nature; so in a manner vastly different from the one he had intended to assume, he continued: "There is a way in which we may be of service to you, and that is by enlightening you upon points concerning which the nature of your position--both as teacher and socially--must keep you in the dark.
"For instance, all these Negroes are, as you know, of wretchedly low morals; but there are a few so depraved that it would be suicidal to take them into this school. We recognize the good you are doing, but we do not want it more than offset by utter lack of discrimination in choosing your material."
"Certainly not--have we--" Miss Mary faltered. This beginning was a bit ominous, wholly unexpected.
"There is a girl, Zora, who has just entered, who--I must speak candidly--who ought not to be here; I thought it but right to let you know."
"Thank you, so much. I'll tell Miss Smith." Mary Taylor suddenly felt herself a judge of character. "I suspected that she was--not what she ought to be. Believe me, we appreciate your interest."
A few more words, and Mr. Cresswell, after bending courteously over her hand with a deference no New Englander had ever shown, was riding away on his white mare.