Miss Trueman, who possessed the characteristic veneration of the bred and born New Englander for his native or imported school-ma’am, resented persistently their somewhat patronizing attitude toward the profession second only to the ministry in her stanch respect. A little of the simple grandeur of those childhood days when “the teacher boarded with them” clung with the ineradicable force of habit to her mind, and she could not understand their restive attitude at “the fine positions as teachers Hattie’s girls have got.”
“I’m sure you make more money than that Miss Seymour that gets her own meals in her room—she said so herself.”
“Oh, well, there are other things to be considered, Aunt Ju; and, anyway, she’s a real bohemian, Polly Seymour. There’s a fascination in it.”
“There’s no fascination in being hungry that I can see, and she admitted that, L—Elise,” Miss Trueman insisted severely. “
