Maria with a sort of envious admiration.

"You look like a princess, all in blue, Miss Edgham," said she. Her
words were sweet, but her voice rang false.

"Thank you," said Maria, and went out swiftly. She feared lest the
other teacher attach herself to her, and the other teacher lived on
the road towards the trolley. When Maria went out of the academy,
that which she had almost feared to hope for happened. Wollaston
stepped beside her, and she heard him ask if he might walk with her
to the trolley.

Maria took his arm.

"Mother is with the Gleasons," said Wollaston. His voice trembled.

Just then the boy who had sat with Maria on the car coming over
walked with a defiant stride to her other side.

"Good-evening, Mr. Lee," he said, lifting his hat. "Good-evening,
Miss Edgham," as if that was the first time that evening he had seen
her. Then he walked on with her and Wollaston, and nothing was to be
done but accept the situation. The young fellow was fairly
belligerent with jealous rage. He had lost his young head over his
teacher, and was doing something for which he would scorn himself
later on.

Wollaston pressed Maria's hand closely under his arm, and she felt
her very soul thrill, but they all talked of the tree and the
festivities of the evening, with an apparent disregard of the
terrible undercurrent of human emotions which had them all in its
grasp. Wollaston carried Maria's presents and Evelyn's. When they
reached the trolley-line, and he gave them to her, she managed to
whisper a thank you for his beautiful roses, and he pressed her hand
and said good-night. The boy asked with a mixture of humility and
defiance if he could not carry her parcels (he himself had nothing
but three neckties and a great silk muffler, which he did not value
highly, as he was well stocked already, and he had thrust them into
his pockets). "No, thank you," said Maria, "I prefer to carry them
myself." She was curt, but she was so lit up with rapture that she
could not help smiling at him as she spoke, and he again sat in the
same car-seat. She hardly spoke a word all the way to Amity, but he
walked to her door with her, alighting from the car at the same time
she did, although he lived half a mile farther on.

"You will have to walk a half mile," Maria observed, when he handed
her off and let the car go on.

"I like to walk," the boy said, fervently.

Maria had her latch-key. She opened the door hurriedly and ran in.
She