CHAPTER XII

“GREAT OAKS FROM LITTLE ACORNS GROW”

Mercy Curtis was one of the older girls quartered in Mrs. Tellingham’s suite.  She told her close friends how Doctor Tellingham walked the floor of the inner office and bemoaned his absent-mindedness that had brought disaster upon Mrs. Tellingham and the whole school.

“I know that Mrs. Tellingham is becoming more worried about the doctor than about the lapsed insurance,” said Mercy.  “Of course, he’s a foolish old man without any more head than a pin!  But why did she leave the business of renewing the insurance in his charge, in the first place?”

“Oh, Mercy!” protested Ruth.

“No more head than a pin!” repeated Nettie Parsons, in horror.  “Why! who ever heard the like?  He writes histories!  He must be a very brainy man.”

“Who ever reads them?” grumbled Mercy.

“They look awfully solid,” confessed Lluella Fairfax.  “Did you ever look at the whole row of them in the office bookcase?”

Jennie Stone began to giggle.  “I don’t care,” she said, “the doctor may be a great historian; but his memory is just as short as it can be.  Do you know what happened only last half when he and Mrs. Tellingham were invited to the Lumberton Association Ball?”

“What was it?” asked Helen.

“I suppose it is something perfectly ridiculous, or Heavy wouldn’t have remembered it,” Ruth suggested.

“Thank you!” returned the plump girl, making a face.  “I have a better memory than Dr. Tellingham, I should hope.”

“Come on! tell the joke, Heavy,” urged Mary Cox.

“Why, when he came into the office ready to escort Mrs. Tellingham to the ball, Mrs. T. criticised his tie.  ’Do go back, Doctor, and put on a black tie,’ she said.  You know, he’s the best natured old dear in the world,” Jennie pursued, “and he went right back into his bedroom to make the change.  They waited, and they waited, and then they waited some more,” chuckled Jennie.  “The doctor did not reappear.  So Mrs. Tellingham finally went to his bedroom and opened the door.  She saw that the old doctor, having removed the tie she didn’t like, had continued the process of undressing, and just as Mrs. Tellingham looked in, he climbed placidly into bed.”

“I can believe that,” said Ann Hicks, when the laughter had subsided.

“And I can believe that both he and Mrs. Tellingham are just as worried about the destruction of the dormitory as they can be,” Nettie added.  “All their money is invested in the school, is it not?”

“Except that invested in the doctor’s useless histories,” said Mercy, who was inclined to be most unmerciful of speech on occasion.

“Is there nobody to help them rebuild?” asked Ann, tentatively.

“Not a soul,” declared Ruth.

“I believe I’ll write to Uncle Bill Hicks.  He’ll help, I know,” said Ann.  “Next to Heavy’s Aunt Kate, Uncle Bill thinks that the finest woman on this footstool is Mrs. Tellingham.”