without a word. The first citizen, raging inwardly,
but trying to appear unconcerned, walked rapidly back to his house. On
the street of his own town, before the eyes of men, he had been snubbed
by a school-teacher. And such a schoolteacher!

Mr. Worthington, as he paced his library burning with the shame of this
occurrence, remembered that he had had to glance at her twice before it
came over him who she was. His first sensation had been astonishment.
And now, in spite of his bitter anger, he had to acknowledge that the
face had made an impression on him--a fact that only served to increase
his rage. A conviction grew upon him that it was a face which his son,
or any other man, would not be likely to forget. He himself could not
forget it.

In the meantime Cynthia had reached her home, her cheeks still smarting,
conscious that people had stared at her. This much, of course, she
knew--that Brampton believed Bob Worthington to be in love with her: and
the knowledge at such times made her so miserable that the thought of
Jethro's isolation alone deterred her from asking Miss Lucretia Penniman
for a position in Boston. For she wrote to Miss Lucretia about her life
and her reading, as that lady had made her promise to do. She sat down
now at the cherry chest of drawers that was also a desk, to write: not
to pour out her troubles, for she never had done that,--but to calm her
mind by drawing little character sketches of her pupils. But she had
only written the words, "My dear Miss Lucretia," when she looked out of
the window and saw Judge Graves coming up the path, and ran to open the
door for him.

"How do you do, Judge?" she said, for she recognized Mr. Graves as
one of her few friends in Brampton. "I have sent to Boston for the new
reader, but it has not come."

The judge took her hand and pressed it and led her into the little
sitting room. His face was very stern, but his eyes, which had flung
fire at Mr. Dodd, looked at her with a vast compassion. Her heart
misgave her.

"My dear," he said,--it was long since the judge had called any woman
"my dear,"--"I have bad news for you. The committee have decided that
you cannot teach any longer in the Brampton school."

"Oh, Judge," she answered, trying to force back the tears which would
come, "I have tried so hard. I had begun to believe that I could fill
the place."

"Fill the place!" cried the judge, startling her with his sudden anger.
"No woman in the state can f