, with every prospect of a speedy
recovery."

Smiling, albeit not uncomplacently, at this valuable contribution to
history from an unfettered press, his eye fell upon the next paragraph,
perhaps not so complacently:--

"Benjamin Daubigny, Esq., who left town for Sacramento on important
business, not entirely unconnected with his new interests in Indian
Springs, will, it is rumored, be shortly joined by his wife, who has
been enabled by his recent good fortune to leave her old home in
the States, and take her proper proud position at his side. Although
personally unknown to Indian Springs, Mrs. Daubigny is spoken of as a
beautiful and singularly accomplished woman, and it is to be regretted
that her husband's interests will compel them to abandon Indian Springs
for Sacramento as a future residence. Mr. Daubigny was accompanied by
his private secretary Rupert, the eldest son of H. G. Filgee, Esq., who
has been a promising graduate of the Indian Spring Academy, and offers a
bright example to the youth of this district. We are happy to learn
that his younger brother is recovering rapidly from a slight accident
received last week through the incautious handling of firearms."

The master, with his eyes upon the paper, remained so long plunged in a
reverie that the school-room was quite filled and his little flock was
wonderingly regarding him before he recalled himself. He was hurriedly
reaching his hand towards the bell when he was attracted by the rising
figure of Octavia Dean.

"Please, sir, you didn't ask if we had any news!"

"True--I forgot," said the master smiling. "Well, have you anything to
tell us?"

"Yes, sir. Cressy McKinstry has left school."

"Indeed!"

"Yes, sir; she's married."

"Married," repeated the master with an effort, yet conscious of the eyes
concentrated upon his colorless face. "Married--and to whom?"

"To Joe Masters, sir, at the Baptist Chapel at Big Bluff, Sunday, an'
Marm McKinstry was thar with her."

There was a momentary and breathless pause. Then the voices of his
little pupils--those sage and sweet truants from tradition, those gentle
but relentless historians of the future--rose around him in shrill
chorus--"WHY, WE KNOWED IT ALL ALONG, SIR!"

End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Cressy, by Bret Harte

*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CRESSY ***

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