U niversity
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tain |Jrl began to'wear bows of the same shape as those which Miss
Devon had, not the same color, to be sure, for that would have been
boo open an imitation. When the girls gathered for theft little chats
at the evening visiting hour, they practiced doing their hair in a
soft coil as the hew teacher did hers; and one girl, more daring than
the rest, actually wore her’s to class that way. Had anyone passed
Mary Edith’s window at night, they would have seen a light there
long after she was, supposed to have been in bed, for Mary Edith
was poring over large volumes on philosophy. She had once seen
such a book on Miss Devon’s table. Another ambitious maiden be
gan imitating the stories that the teacher told, fot those stories—ah,
they wefe the admiration of all. Never had they heard such marvel
lous tabes—tales related ,so vividly, so intensely „and with such dra
matic skill that they held the listener enchanted and haunted him
fike a dream. Many an evening Miss Devon sat before the open
fire in her room, her dark eyes shining as, she leaned impulsively
toward the group of eager girls at her feet and pored forth some
wonderful story, while weird shadows danced on the walk ‘
“Do you know, I sometimes think that Miss Devon’s stories
are almost uncanny,” the little English teacher said one day to a.
friend. “She comes to my room at night and talks with that wild
light in her eyes until it frightens me.”
Often Miss Devon talked' of her home, a beautiful country
place, surrounded by wide lawns, where her little/ sister,' Jane,
pfayed all day. How she did love that little sister! Although only
eight years old, the child sometimes wrote Latin letters which Miss
Devon proudly displayed to her friends. These were not :perfect,
but were surprisingly well written; and Jane became, in the eyes
of the girls, almost as wonderful as her sister. When Christmas
drew near, Miss Devon bought a beautiful dofl to dress for Jane,
and all the teachers and even some of the pupils made a part of that
wardrobe.
Sometimes, too, she spoke of her father, a well-to-do judge, and
her mother, who had been an invalid since the death of a son some
years before. This brother, Miss Devon said, had been kilied one
summer in the Adirondacks when she and her mother were spend
ing their vacation in Maine. Before they could get home the men
.who had been with him on the football team at Harvard had come
down, opened up the house, and made all preparations for the fu-