“And when is the next election?” imperturbably asked Miss Margaret.

“Next month on the twenty-fifth of February.  Then you’ll see oncet!”

“According to the terms of my agreement with the Board I hold my position until the first of April unless the Board can show reasons why it should be taken from me.  “What reasons can you show?”

“That you side along with the—­”

“That I try to persuade you not to take your child out of school when you can well afford to keep her there.  That’s what you have to tell the Board.”

Mr. Getz stared at her, rather baffled.  The children also stared in wide-eyed curiosity, realizing with wonder that Teacher was “talkin’ up to pop!” It was a novel and interesting spectacle.

“Well, anyways,” continued Mr. Getz, rallying, “I’ll bring it up in Board meeting that you mebbe leave the scholars borry the loan of novels off of you.”

“But you can’t prove it.  I shall hold the Board to their contract.  They can’t break it.”

Miss Margaret was taking very high ground, of which, in fact, she was not at all sure.

Mr. Getz gazed at her with mingled anger and fascination.  Here was certainly a new species of woman!  Never before had any teacher at William Penn failed to cringe to his authority as a director.

“This much I kin say,” he finally declared.  “Mebbe you kin hold us to that there contract, but you won’t, anyways, be elected to come back here next term!  That’s sure!  You’ll have to look out fur another place till September a’ready.  And we won’t give you no recommend, neither, to get yourself another school with!”

Just here it was that Miss Margaret had her triumph, which she was quite human enough to thoroughly enjoy.

“You won’t have a chance to reelect me, for I am going to resign at the end of the term.  I am going to be married the week after school closes.”

Never had Mr. Getz felt himself so foiled.  Never before had any one subject in any degree to his authority so neatly eluded a reckoning at his hands.  A tingling sensation ran along his arm and he had to restrain his impulse to lift it, grasp this slender creature standing so fearlessly before him, and thoroughly shake her.

“Who’s the party?” asked Mrs. Getz, curiously.  “It never got put out that you was promised.  I ain’t heard you had any steady comp’ny.  To be sure, some says the Doc likes you pretty good.  Is it now, mebbe, the Doc?  But no,” she shook her head; “Mister’s sister Em at the hotel would have tole me.  Is it some one where lives around here?”

“I don’t mind telling you,” Miss Margaret graciously answered, realizing that her reply would greatly increase Mr. Getz’s sense of defeat.  “It is Mr. Lansing, a nephew of the State Superintendent of schools and a professor at the Millersville Normal School.”

“Well, now just look!” Mrs. Getz exclaimed wonderingly.  “Such a tony party!  The State Superintendent’s nephew!  That’s even a more way-up person than what the county superintendent is!  Ain’t?  Well, who’d ‘a’ thought!”