Maud and Mollie exchanged a look. Nate’s attention was on Miss Gordon, but Maud was certain his gaze was on her. “I’ve decided to change my last name back to my father’s surname, Lockhart.”
Mollie grabbed Maud’s hand underneath the desk. When he was small, Nate had been adopted by Reverend Spurr when he married Nate’s mother. Nate’s father, Nathaniel Lockhart, was a ship captain who went missing when the now Mrs. Spurr was pregnant.
Did you know about this? Maud scribbled on her slate, letting go of Mollie’s hand.
He must have really kept it a secret. Mollie wrote back.
For you not to know, definitely.
Definitely. Mollie elbowed her.
“Ladies, can I help you with something?”
Both girls sat up straight.
“Unless you wish to share your notes with the class?”
Both girls mumbled an apology. Across the room, Lu shook her head, and Clemmie whispered something to Annie, who giggled.
Miss Gordon finished the roll call, then paced the floor, making eye contact with each student. “Now, I want to discuss two exciting endeavors. The first is the annual essay writing competition for the Montreal Witness. From Miss Robinson’s notes, I know you participated, but no one from this class finished in the finals.” Miss Gordon’s eyes paused on Maud. “I also understand some of you enjoy writing, so I hope to see yours at the top of the list.”
Maud had to stop herself from clapping. Because of what happened last year she had missed the competition. Maybe if she won, her family would take her seriously.
“Those who are interested will have weekly writing assignments so you can practice, and then we’ll settle on our topics in a few months. To start, though, we can begin with something you might have already written, or you can think of an important event that interests you,” Miss Gordon said. “It could be as recent as the growth of the railroad, or something that happened long ago.”
Maud was thrilled. She hadn’t had a teacher really interested in writing since Mr. Fraser, who had given her A Bad Boy’s Diry, by Little George, about a little boy who always got himself into trouble, when she was in the Fourth Level.
It had to be something dramatic—maybe she could look again at her piece, “The Queen’s Betrayal.” She would return to it and make sure it was perfect, with lots of descriptions.
“The second endeavor will be a Christmas concert in December, where we will also showcase our talents. Everyone must participate.”
There was a collective groan from some, but Maud turned to Mollie and winked. They would do whatever was necessary to be the stars of this show, or any other, for they adored playacting.
For the rest of the morning, Miss Gordon held firm control over the classroom (even Jack’s brother, Austin, didn’t dare put a frog in her desk like he had on Miss Robinson’s first day) and then dismissed them for the dinner hour. Maud, Mollie, Nate, and Jack went directly to the old birch tree; Clemmie and Nellie sat under a grove of trees on the other side of the yard in deep consultation with Annie and Mamie.
“That looks like my sisters on sewing day,” Mollie said, placing her sandwich on the cloth napkin draped across her lap. “Trouble.”
“Miss Robinson certainly spoiled them,” Nate said, biting into his sandwich. “I never thought she treated you fairly, Polly.” He flicked some crumbs off of his pants. “Is that why you left?”
Maud had a hard time swallowing her sandwich. Why couldn’t people leave the past alone?
On the other end of the yard, the four girls had stopped talking and were now staring. Annie whispered something to Mamie, and she giggled.
“I don’t really wish to discuss it,” Maud said.
“If that’s the way you feel about it.” Nate sulked.
Maud was reminded again how Nate despised being left out of things, but the last thing she wanted was for him to be angry with her. She had just gotten him back.
“I do trust you,” she began, “but there are certain things I prefer not to rehash, particularly when there are other ears about.” Maud pointed to the group of girls.
“They’re far enough away they won’t hear,” he said.
“I understand,” Jack said. “Some things need to be buried, or burned.”
Maud gave Jack a grateful smile.
“Fine!” Nate smiled, showing all was forgiven. “I’ll be good and not pressure you, but promise me one day I’ll hear the whole story.”
“I promise,” Maud said.
“I wonder what they’re on about,” Mollie said, wiping her hands and placing her napkin inside her lunch pail.
“Who cares?” Maud said. Truth be told, she did. Mollie would find out; it was one of the reasons why Maud adored her.
“I hate not knowing what people are up to,” Mollie said.
“But what concern is it of yours?” Jack asked.
“It’s always hard to explain these matters to boys,” Mollie said. “They’re like children fidgeting in a pew on a Sunday.”
“I believe it is wonderful how Miss Gordon is really preparing us for the Montreal Witness contest,” Maud said, in an effort to change the subject.
“You would,” Mollie said. “Always with your pencil and paper in hand and poring over your journal.”
“Do you ever share anything from your journal with other people?” Nate asked.
“Only a select few,” Maud said.
“How does one get into this select club?”
“One has to be worthy,” she said.
How was it whenever she and Nate got into a conversation, it immediately became about things she didn’t want to discuss?
“I hope someday to have that opportunity.” He really shouldn’t grin that way.
Maud needed to get away from Nate, his grin—and the fluttery feeling. She grabbed Mollie’s arm. “I want to talk with Miss Gordon about the writing assignments.”
“Yes,” Mollie said as if she understood. “Me too.”
“We’ll see you both later,” Nate said, tipping his cap and putting it back on backwards the way Maud liked.
But instead of going inside where Miss Gordon was eating her lunch, Mollie pulled Maud along to where Clemmie, Nellie, Mamie, and Annie appeared to be arguing.
“Mollie, I’ve had enough drama for one day,” Maud said, trying to pull her in another direction.
“C’mon, Pollie,” Mollie said. “We need to know the goings-on. And this is quite the fight.”
She let Mollie pull her. She was curious, and secretly hoped Annie would finally give Clemmie what was coming to her.
Lu and a few of the younger girls were also curious, gathering on the other side.
“You told Clara and Mamie they shouldn’t be friends with me because I lied about why I couldn’t meet up with them on Saturday,” Annie shouted and pointed dramatically at Clemmie. “You know I had to go home and take care of my little sister because Mamma was ill!”
“I know no such thing,” Clemmie said. “You’re always using your mother as an excuse. How do we know she is really sick?”
“You wouldn’t understand because you are a spoiled little imp,” Mamie said.
“Perhaps things haven’t changed at all,” Maud said.