University of Virginia Library

7. CHAPTER VII.
MALCOLM EVERETT.

It would be tiresome both to ourselves and our readers,
were we to enumerate the many mortifications which
both Mr. and Mrs. Livingstone were compelled to endure
from their mother, who gradually came to understand
her true position in the family. One by one her
ideas of teaching them economy were given up, as was
also all hopes of ever being at all familiar with her daughter,
whom, at her son's request, she had ceased to call
“'Tilda.”

“Mebby you want me to say Miss Livingstone,” said
she, “but I shan't. I'll call her Miss Nichols, or Matilda,
just which she chooses.”

Of course Mrs. Livingstone chose the latter, wincing,
though, every time she heard it. Dreading a scene
which he knew was sure to follow a disclosure of his engagement
with Miss Nancy, Mr. Livingstone had requested
his mother to keep it from his wife, and she, appreciating

his motive, promised secrecy, lamenting the while
the ill-fortune which had prevented Nancy from being
her daughter-in-law, and dwelling frequently upon the
comfort she should take were Nancy there in Matilda's
place. On the whole, however, she was tolerably contented;
the novelty of Kentucky life pleased her, and at
last, like most northern people, she fell in with the habits
of those around her. Still her Massachusetts friends
were not forgotten, and many a letter, wonderful for its
composition and orthography, found its way to Nancy
Scovandyke, who wrote in return that “some time or
other she should surely visit Kentucky,” asking further
if the “big bugs” didn't prefer eastern teachers for their
children, and hinting at her desire to engage in that capacity
when she came south!

“Now, that's the very thing,” exclaimed Mrs. Nichols,
folding the letter, (directed wrong side up,) and resuming
her knitting. “Nancy's larnin' is plenty good enough to
teach Car'line and Anny, and I mean to speak to John
about it right away.”

“I wouldn't do any such thing,” said 'Lena, seeing at
a glance how such a proposal would be received.

“Why not?” asked Mrs. Nichols, and 'Lena replied,
“I don't think Nancy would suit Aunt Livingstone at all,
and besides that, they've engaged a teacher, a Mr. Everett,
and expect him next week.”

“Your don't say so?” returned Mrs Nichols. “I never
hearn a word on't. Where 'bouts is he from, and how
much do they give him a week?”

The latter 'Lena knew nothing about, but she replied
that “she believed he was from Rockford, a village near
Rochester, New York.”

“Why, Nancy Scovandyke's sister lives there. I
wouldn't wonder if he knew her.”

“Very likely,” returned 'Lena, catching her bonnet
and hurrying off to ride with Captain Atherton and
Anna.

As we have once before observed, Anna was a great
favorite with the captain, who had petted her until John
Jr. teased her unmercifully, calling him her gray-haired
lover, and the like. This made Anna exceedingly sensitive,
and now when the captain called for her to ride,
as he frequently did, she refused to go unless the invitation
was also extended to 'Lena, who in this way got
many a pleasant ride around the country. She was
fast learning to like Kentucky, and would have been
very happy had her aunt and Carrie been a little more
gracious. But the former seldom spoke to her, and
the latter only to ridicule something which she said
or did.

Many and amusing were the disputes between the two
girls concerning their peculiarities of speech, Carrie bidding
'Lena “quit her Yankee habit of eternally guessing,”
and 'Lena retorting that “she would when Carrie stopped
her everlasting reckoning.” To avoid the remarks of
the neighbors, who she knew were watching her narrowly,
Mrs. Livingstone had purchased 'Lena two or three
dresses, which, though greatly inferior to those worn by
Carrie and Anna, were still fashionably made, and so
much improved 'Lena's looks, that her manners improved,
also, for what child does not appear to better advantage
when conscious of looking well? More than once had
her uncle's hand rested for a moment on her brown curls,
while his thoughts were traversing the past, and in fancy
his fingers were again straying among the silken locks
now resting in the grave. It would seem as if the mother
from her coffin was pleading for her child, for all the
better nature of Mr. Livingstone was aroused; and when

he secured the services of Mr. Everett, who was highly
recommended both as a scholar and gentleman, he determined
that 'Lena should share the same advantages with
his daughters. To this Mrs. Livingstone made no serious
objection, for as Mr. Everett would teach in the
house, it would not do to debar 'Lena from the privilege
of attending his school; and as the highest position to which
she could aspire was to be governess in some private family,
she felt willing, she said, that she should have a chance
of acquiring the common branches.

And now Mr. Everett was daily expected. Anna, who
had no fondness for books, greatly dreaded his arrival,
thinking within herself how many pranks she'd play off
upon him, provided 'Lena would lend a helping hand,
which she much doubted. John Jr., too, who for a time,
at least, was to be placed under Mr. Everett's instruction,
felt in no wise eager for his arrival, fearing, as he told
'Lena, that “between the `old man' and the tutor, he
would be kept a little too straight for a gentleman of his
habits;” and it was with no particular emotions of pleasure
that he and Anna saw the stage stop before the gate
one pleasant morning toward the middle of November.
Running to one of the front windows, Carrie, 'Lena, and
Anna watched their new teacher, each after her own
fashion commenting upon his appearance.

“Ugh!” exclaimed Anna, “what a green, boyish
looking thing! I reckon nobody's going to be afraid
of him.”

“I say he's real handsome,” said Carrie, who being
thirteen years of age, had already, in her own mind,
practiced many a little coquetry upon the stranger.

“I like him,” was 'Lena's brief remark.

Mr. Everett was a pale, intellectual looking man,
scarcely twenty years of age, and appearing still younger,

so that Anna was not wholly wrong when she called him
boyish. Still there was in his large black eye a firmness
and decision which bespoke the man strong within him,
and which put to flight all of Anna's preconceived notions
of rebellion. With the utmost composure he returned
Mrs. Livingstone's greeting, and the proud lady half bit
her lip with vexation as she saw how little he seemed
awed by her presence.

Malcolm Everett was not one to acknowledge superiority
where there was none, and though ever polite toward
Mrs. Livingstone, there was something in his manner
which forbade her treating him as aught save an
equal. He was not to be trampled down, and for once
in her life Mrs. Livingstone had found a person who
would neither cringe to her nor flatter. The children were
not presented to him until dinner time, when, with the
air of a young desperado, John Jr. marched into the
dining-room, eyeing his teacher askance, calculating his
strength, and returning his greeting with a simple nod.
Mr. Everett scanned him from head to foot, and then
turned to Carrie half smiling at the great dignity which
she assumed. With 'Lena and Anna he seemed better
pleased, holding their hands and smiling down upon them
through rows of teeth which Anna pronounced the whitest
she had ever seen.

Mr. Livingstone was not at home, and when his mother
appeared, Mrs. Livingstone did not think proper to introduce
her. But if by this omission she thought to keep
the old lady silent, she was mistaken, for the moment
Mrs. Nichols was seated, she commenced with, “Your
name is Everett, I b'lieve?”

“Yes, ma'am,” said he, bowing very gracefully toward
her.

“Any kin to the governor that was?”

“No, ma'am, none whatever,” and the white teeth
became slightly visible for a moment, but soon disappeared.

“You are from Rockford, 'Lena tells me?”

“Yes, ma'am. Have you friends there?”

“Yes—or that is, Nancy Scovandyke's sister, Betsy
Scovandyke that used to be, lives there. May be you
know her. Her name is Bacon—Betsy Bacon. She's a
widder and keeps boarders.”

“Ah,” said he, the teeth this time becoming wholly
visible, “I've heard of Mrs. Bacon, but have not the
honor of her acquaintance. You are from the east, I
perceive.”

“Law, now! how did you know that?” asked Mrs.
Nichols, while Mr. Everett answered, “I guessed at it,”
with a peculiar emphasis on the word guessed, which led
'Lena to think he had used it purposely and not from
habit.

Mr. Everett possessed in a remarkable degree the faculty
of making those around him both respect and like
him, and ere six weeks had passed, he had won the love
of all his pupils. Even John Jr. was greatly improved,
and Carrie seemed suddenly reäwakened into a thirst for
knowledge, deeming no task too long, and no amount of
study too hard, if it won the commendation of her teacher.
'Lena, who committed to memory with great ease,
and who consequently did not deserve so much credit for
her always perfect lessons, seldom received a word of
praise, while poor Anna, notoriously lazy when books
were concerned, cried almost every day, because, as she
said, “Mr. Everett did'nt like her as he did the rest, else
why did he look at her so much, watching her all the
while, and keeping her after school to get her lessons
over, when he knew how she hated them.”

Once Mrs. Livingstone ventured to remonstrate, telling
him that Anna was very sensitive, and required altogether
different treatment from Carrie. “She thinks you dislike
her,” said she, “and while she retains this impression,
she will do nothing as far as learning is concerned; so if
you do not like her, try and make her think you do!”

There was a peculiar look in Mr. Everett's dark eyes
as he answered, “You may think it strange, Mrs. Livingstone,
but of all my pupils I love Anna the best! I
know I find more fault with her, and am perhaps more
severe with her than with the rest, but it's because I
would make her what I wish her to be. Pardon me,
madam, but Anna does not possess the same amount of
intellect with her cousin or sister, but by proper culture
she will make a fine, intelligent woman.”

Mrs. Livingstone hardly relished being told that one
child was inferior to the other, but she could not well help
herself—Mr. Everett would say what he pleased—and thus
the conference ended. From that time Mr. Everett was
exceedingly kind to Anna, wiping away the tears which
invariably came when told that she must stay with him in
the school-room after the rest were gone; then, instead of
seating himself in rigid silence at a distance until her task
was learned, he would sit by her side, occasionally smoothing
her long curls and speaking encouragingly to her as
she pored over some hard rule of grammar, or puzzled her
brains with some difficult problem in Colburn. Erelong
the result of all this became manifest. Anna grew fonder
of her books, more ready to learn, and—more willing to
be kept after school!

Ah, little did Mrs. Livingstone think what she was doing
when she bade young Malcolm Everett make her warmhearted,
impulsive daughter think he liked her!