_Sixteen_

THE GREAT REFUSAL


All night Miss Smith lay holding the quivering form of Zora close to her
breast, staring wide-eyed into the darkness--thinking, thinking. In the
morning the party would come. There would be Mrs. Grey and Mary Taylor,
Mrs. Vanderpool, who had left her so coldly in the lurch before, and
some of the Cresswells. They would come well fed and impressed with the
charming hospitality of their hosts, and rather more than willing to see
through those host's eyes. They would be in a hurry to return to some
social function, and would give her work but casual attention.

It seemed so dark an ending to so bright a dream. Never for her had a
fall opened as gloriously. The love of this boy and girl, blossoming as
it had beneath her tender care, had been a sacred, wonderful history
that revived within her memories of long-forgotten days. But above lay
the vision of her school, redeemed and enlarged, its future safe, its
usefulness broadened--small wonder that to Sarah Smith the future had
seemed in November almost golden.

Then things began to go wrong. The transfer of the Tolliver land had not
yet been effected; the money was ready, but Mr. Tolliver seemed busy or
hesitating. Next came this news of Mrs. Grey's probable conditions. So
here it was Christmas time, and Sarah Smith's castles lay almost in