Thus far she had answered nothing correctly, and, feeling puzzled to
know how to proceed, Guy stepped into the adjoining room to consult
with the doctor, but he was gone. So returning again to Madeline, Guy
resumed the examination by asking her how “minus into minus could
produce plus.”
Again Maddy was at fault, and her low-spoken “I don’t know” sounded
like a wail of despair. Did she know anything, Guy wondered, and
feeling some curiosity now to ascertain that fact, he plied her with
questions philosophical, questions algebraical, and questions
geometrical, until in an agony of distress Maddy raised her hands
deprecatingly, as if she would ward off any similar questions, and
sobbed out:
“Oh, sir, no more. It makes my head so dizzy. They don’t teach that in
common schools. Ask me something I do know.”
Suddenly it occurred to Guy that he had gone entirely wrong, and
mentally cursing himself for the blockhead the doctor had called him,
he asked, kindly:
“What do they teach? Perhaps you can enlighten me?”
“Geography, arithmetic, grammar, history, and spelling-book,” Madeline
replied, untying and throwing off her bonnet, in the vain hope that it
might bring relief to her poor, giddy head, which throbbed so fearfully
that all her ideas seemed for the time to have left her.
This was a natural consequence of the high excitement under which she
was laboring, and so, when Guy did ask her concerning the books
designated, she answered but little better than before, and Guy was
wondering what he should do next, when the doctor’s welcome step was
heard, and leaving Madeline again, he repaired to the next room to
report his ill success.
“She does not seem to know anything. The veriest child ought to do
better than she has done. Why, she has scarcely answered half a dozen
questions correctly.”
This was what poor Maddy heard, though it was spoken in a low whisper;
but every word was distinctly understood and burned into her heart’s
core, drying her tears and hardening her into a block of marble. She
knew that Guy had not done her justice, and this helped to increase the
torpor stealing over her. Still she did not lose a syllable of what was
saying in the back office, and her lip curled scornfully when she heard
Guy remark: “I pity her; she is so young, and evidently takes it so
hard. Maybe she’s as good as they average. Suppose we give her the
certificate.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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