_I_ wasn't going to undertake a class with a walking interrogation
point in it like that. Besides, I thought Mrs. Allan required
a slight snub. Ministers' wives are rather apt to think they
can run everything and everybody, if they are not wholesomely
corrected now and again.
"It is not what _I_ like best that must be considered,
Mrs. Allan," I said rebukingly. "It is what is best for those boys.
I feel that _I_ shall be best for THEM."
"Oh, I've no doubt of that, Miss MacPherson," said Mrs. Allan amiably.
It was a fib for her, minister's wife though she was. She HAD doubt.
She thought I would be a dismal failure as teacher of a boys' class.
But I was not. I am not often a dismal failure when I make up
my mind to do a thing. I am noted for that.
"It is wonderful what a reformation you have worked in that class,
Miss MacPherson--wonderful," said the Rev. Mr. Allan some weeks later.
He didn't mean to show how amazing a thing he thought it that
an old maid noted for being a man hater should have managed it,
but his face betrayed him.
"Where does Jimmy Spencer live?" I asked him crisply.
"He came one Sunday three weeks ago and hasn't been back since.
I mean to find out why."
Mr.
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