e barely good-looking, Star,--and she's sure to
have fifty thousand from the old man,--Ged, you might get even with
Alexander, sen., for betrothing his prodigal to Dona Jovita, in spite of
the--er--evident preference that the girl showed for you. Capital idea!
If she's not positively hideous I'll do it! Ged! I'll reconnoitre
first! (Musing.) I could stand one eye; yes--er--single eye would not
be positively objectionable in the--er--present experiments of
science toward the--er--the substitution of glass. Red hair, Star,
is--er--Venetian,--the beauty of Giorgione. (Goes up to schoolhouse
window, and looks in.) Too early! Seven empty benches; seven desks
splashed with ink. The--er--rostrum of the awful Minerva empty,
but--er--adorned with flowers, nosegays--demn me! And here, here
on the--er--very threshold (looking down), floral tributes.
The--er--conceit of these New England schoolma'ams, and
their--er--evident Jesuitical influence over the young, is fraught,
sir, fraught with--er--darkly political significance. Eh, Ged! there's
a caricature on the blackboard. (Laughing.) Ha, ha! Absurd chalk outline
of ridiculous fat person. Evidently the schoolma'am's admirer. Ged!
immensely funny! Ah! boys will be boys. Like you, Star, just like
you,--always up to tricks like that. A sentence scrawled below the
figure seems to be--er--explanation. Hem! (Takes out eyeglass.) Let's
see (reading.) "This is old"--old--er--old--demme, sir!--"Starbottle!"
This is infamous. I haven't been forty-eight hours in the place, and
to my certain knowledge haven't spoken to a child. Ged, sir, it's
the--er--posting of a libel! The woman, the--er--female, who permits
this kind of thing, should be made responsible--er--personally
responsible. Eh, hush! What have we here? (Retires to ledge of rocks.)

Enter MISS MARY L., reading letter.

Miss Mary. Strange! Is it all a dream? No! here are the familiar rocks,
the distant snow-peaks, the schoolhouse, the spring below. An hour ago
I was the poor schoolmistress of Red Gulch, with no ambition nor hope
beyond this mountain wall; and now--oh, it must be a dream! But here
is the letter. Certainly this is no delusion: it is too plain, formal,
business-like. (Reads.)

MY DEAR COUSIN--I address the only surviving child of my cousin Mary
and her husband John Morris, both deceased. It is my duty as a Christian
relative to provide you with a home--to share with you that wealth and
those blessings that a kind pr