“As for that,” said Jennie, “I’ve seen Miss Stearne herself at the picture theatre twice within the last week.”

“Then that’s it; she doesn’t like the character of the pictures shown.  I think, myself, girls, they’ve been rather rank lately.”

“What’s wrong with them?”

“I like pictures as well as you do,” said Mary Louise, “and Gran’pa Jim often takes me to see them.  Tuesday night a man shot another in cold blood and the girl the murderer was in love with helped him to escape and married him.  I felt like giving her a good shaking, didn’t you?  She didn’t act like a real girl at all.  And Thursday night the picture story told of a man with two wives and of divorces and disgraceful doings generally.  Gran’pa Jim took me away before it was over and I was glad to go.  Some of the pictures are fine and dandy, but as long as the man who runs the theatre mixes the horrid things with the decent ones—­and we can’t know beforehand which is which—­it’s really the safest plan to keep away from the place altogether.  I’m sure that’s the position Miss Stearne takes, and we can’t blame her for it.  If we do, it’s an evidence of laxness of morals in ourselves.”

The girls received this statement sullenly, yet they had no logical reply to controvert it.  So Mary Louise, feeling that her explanation of the distasteful edict was not popular with her friends, quietly rose and sauntered to the gate, on her way home.

“Pah!” sneered Mable Westervelt, looking after the slim figure, “I’m always suspicious of those goody-goody creatures.  Mark my words, girls:  Mary Louise will fall from her pedestal some day.  She isn’t a bit better than the rest of us, in spite of her angel baby ways, and I wouldn’t be surprised if she turned out to be a regular hypocrite!”

CHAPTER II

GRAN’PA JIM

Beverly is an old town and not especially progressive.  It lies nearly two miles from a railway station and has little attractiveness for strangers.  Beverly contains several beautiful old residences, however, built generations ago and still surrounded by extensive grounds where the trees and shrubbery are now generally overgrown and neglected.

One of these fine old places Miss Stearne rented for her boarding school; another, quite the most imposing residence in the town, had been leased some two years previous to the time of this story by Colonel James Weatherby, whose family consisted of his widowed daughter, Mrs. Burrows, and his grandchild, Mary Louise Burrows.  Their only servants were an old negro, Uncle Eben, and his wife, Aunt Polly, who were Beverly bred and had been hired when the Colonel first came to town and took possession of the stately Vandeventer mansion.