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diff --git a/41524-8.txt b/41524-8.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 528925b..0000000 --- a/41524-8.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,8824 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Marion Berkley, by Elizabeth B. Comins - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with -almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org/license - - -Title: Marion Berkley - A Story for Girls - -Author: Elizabeth B. Comins - -Release Date: December 1, 2012 [EBook #41524] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MARION BERKLEY *** - - - - -Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Mary Meehan and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - - - - - - - - - - MARION BERKLEY - - A STORY FOR GIRLS - - BY ELIZABETH B. COMINS - - - PHILADELPHIA - HENRY T. COATES & CO - - Copyright, 1870, by A. K. Loring. - - - - - TO - MY TWIN SISTERS - THIS BOOK - IS MOST AFFECTIONATELY - _DEDICATED_. - - - - -[Illustration: THE TWO BOUQUETS.] - - - - -MARION BERKLEY. - - - - -CHAPTER I. - -EN ROUTE FOR SCHOOL. - - -"Come on, Mab! the carriage is round; only fifteen minutes to get to the -depot." - -"Yes, I am coming. O mamma! do fasten this carpet-bag for me. Dear me! -there goes the button off my gloves. Was there ever any one in such a -flutter?" - -"Never mind, dear; it is too late to sew it on now. Here is your bag; -come, we must not stop another moment; there is Fred calling again." - -"I say, Mab," shouted the first speaker from the bottom of the stairs, -"if you're coming, why don't you come? I shan't leave until you bid me -good-by, and I know I shall lose the ball-match. You do keep a fellow -waiting so eternally long!" - -His sister was downstairs, and had her arms around his neck before he -had finished speaking, and said to him, in a tone of mock gravity, "Now, -Frederic, don't get excited; always follow my good example, and keep -cool. There now!" she exclaimed, as she gave him a hearty kiss; "be -off. I forgot all about your ball-match, and all the amends I can make -is to hope the Isthmians will beat the Olympics all to pieces." - -"Come, come," called Mrs. Berkley from the inside of the carriage, "we -have not a moment to lose." - -"Good-by, Hannah. One more kiss for Mab, Charlie. Good-by, all;" then to -the coachman, as she whisked into the carriage, "Drive on, John, just as -fast as you can." - -The carriage-door was shut with a snap; off went the horses, and Mrs. -Berkley and her daughter were soon at the Western depot, where the -latter was to take the cars for B----, a little New England town, where -she attended boarding-school. They were very late at the depot, and Mrs. -Berkley had only time for a fond kiss and a "Write often, darling," when -the bell rung, and she was forced to leave the car, feeling a little -uneasy that her daughter was obliged to take her journey alone. Just as -the cars were starting, Marion put her head out of a window, and called -to her mother, "O mamma! Flo is here; isn't that jolly? No fear now -of--" The last part of the sentence was unintelligible, and all Mrs. -Berkley got was a bright smile, and a wave of the hand, as the train -moved out of the depot. - -"Now, Flo, I call this providential," exclaimed Marion; "for, I can tell -you, I did not relish the prospect of my solitary ride. Just hand me -your bag, and I'll put it in the rack with my budgets. This seat is -empty; suppose we turn it over, and then we shall be perfectly -comfortable. Now I say this is decidedly scrumptious;" and she settled -herself back, with a sigh of satisfaction. - -"Why, Mab, what made you so late? I had been here fifteen minutes before -you came, all on the _qui vive_, hoping to see some one I knew; but I -never dreamed you would be here. I thought you were going up yesterday -with the Thayers." - -"I did intend to; but Fred had a sort of spread last night for the -Isthmians, so I stayed over. I expect Miss Stiefbach will give me one of -her annihilators, but I guess I can stand it. I've been withered so many -times, that the glances of those 'eagle eyes' have rather lost their -effect." - -"Well, I only wish I had a little more of your spirit of resistance. -What a lovely hat you have! Just suits your style. Where did you get -it?" - -"Why, it's only my old sun-down dyed and pressed over, and bound with -the velvet off my old brown rep. I trimmed it myself, and feel mighty -proud of it." - -"Trimmed it yourself!--really? Well, I never saw such a girl; you can do -anything! I couldn't have done it to save my life. I only wish to -gracious I could; it would be very convenient sometimes." - -And so the two girls rattled on for some time, in true school-girl -fashion; but at last they each took a book, and settled back into their -respective corners. Before very long, however, Marion tossed her book on -to the opposite seat; for they were coming to Lake Cochituate, and -nothing could be lovelier than the view which was stretching itself -before them. I do not think that half the people of Massachusetts -realize how beautiful this piece of water is; but I believe, if they had -seen it then, they surely must have appreciated its charms. - -It was about the middle of September, and the leaves were just beginning -to turn; indeed, some of them were already quite brilliant. The day was -soft and hazy,--just such a one as we often have in early autumn, and -the slight mist of the atmosphere served to soften and harmonize the -various colors of the landscape. The lake itself was as clear and smooth -as polished glass, and every tree on the borders was distinctly -reflected on its clear bosom; while the delicate blue sky, with the few -feathery clouds floating across it seemed to be far beneath the surface -of the water. - -Marion was at heart a true artist, and had all a true artist's intense -love of nature; she now sat at the window, completely absorbed in the -scene before her, her eye and mind taking in all the beauties of form, -color, and reflection; and as the cars bore her too swiftly by she -uttered a sigh of real regret. - -Perhaps there will be no better time than the present for giving my -young readers a description of my heroine. My tale will contain no -thrilling incidents, no hairbreadth escapes, or any of those startling -events with which ideas of heroism are generally associated. It will be -a simple story of a school-girl's life; its fun and frolic; its -temptations, trials, and victories. - -Marion Berkley was a remarkably beautiful girl; but she owed her beauty -chiefly to the singular contrast of her hair and eyes. The former was a -beautiful golden color, while her eyes, eyebrows, and lashes were very -dark. Her nose and mouth, though well formed, could not be considered in -any way remarkable. When in conversation her face became animated, the -expression changed with each inward emotion, and her eyes sparkled -brilliantly; but when in repose they assumed a softer, dreamier look, -which seemed to hint of a deeper nature beneath this gay and often -frivolous exterior. - -Mr. Berkley was very fond of his daughter. He had a large circle of -acquaintances, many of whom were in the habit of dining, or passing the -evening, at his house, and it pleased him very much to have them notice -her. Marion was by no means a vain girl; yet these attentions from those -so much older than herself were rather inclined to turn her head. -Fortunately, her mother was a very lovely and sensible woman, whose good -example and sound advice served to counteract those influences which -might otherwise have proved very injurious. - -And now that I have introduced my friends to Marion, it is no more than -fair that I should present them to her companion. Florence Stevenson was -a bright, pretty brunette, of sixteen. She and Marion had been friends -ever since they made "mud pies" together in the Berkleys' back yard. -They shared the same room at school, got into the same scrapes, kept -each other's secrets, and were, in short, almost inseparable. Florence -had lost her mother when she was very young, and her father's house was -ruled over by a well-meaning, but disagreeable maiden-aunt, who, by her -constant and oftentimes unnecessary fault-finding, made Florence so -unhappy, that she had hailed with delight her father's proposition of -going away to school. For three years Florence and Marion had been -almost daily together, being only separated during vacations, when, as -Florence lived five miles from Boston, it was impossible that they -should see as much of each other as they would have liked. - -About four in the afternoon, the girls reached their destination; rather -tired out by their long ride, but, nevertheless, in excellent spirits. -Miss Stiefbach, after a few remarks as to the propriety of being a day -before, rather than an hour behind time, dismissed them to their rooms -to prepare for supper, where for the present we will leave them. - - - - -CHAPTER II. - -SCHOOL. - - -Miss Stiefbach and her sister Christine, were two excellent German -ladies who, owing to a sudden reverse of fortune, were obliged to leave -their mother-country, hoping to find means of supporting themselves in -America. They were most kindly received by the gentlemen to whom they -brought letters of introduction, and with their assistance they had been -able to open a school for young ladies; and now, at the end of seven -years, they found themselves free from debt, and at the head of one of -the best boarding-schools in the United States. - -Miss Stiefbach, the head and director of the establishment, was a stern, -cold, forbidding woman; acting on what she considered to be the most -strictly conscientious principles, but never unbending in the slightest -degree her frigid, repelling manner. To look at her was enough to have -told you her character at once. She was above the medium height, -excessively thin and angular in her figure, and was always dressed in -some stiff material, which, as Marion Berkley expressed it, "looked as -if it had been starched and frozen, and had never been thawed out." - -Miss Christine was fifteen years her junior, and her exact opposite in -appearance as well as in disposition: she was short and stout, and -rosy-cheeked, not at all pretty; but having such a kind smile, such a -thoroughly good-natured face, that the girls all thought she was really -beautiful, and would feel more repentance at one of her grieved looks, -than they would for forty of Miss Stiefbach's frigid reprimands. And -well they might love her, for she certainly was a kind friend to them. -Many a school-girl trick or frolic had she concealed, which, if it had -come under the searching eyes of her sister, would have secured the -perpetrators as stern a rebuke, and perhaps as severe a punishment, as -if they had committed some great wrong. - -Miss Stiefbach's school was by no means what is generally called a -"fashionable school." The parents of the young girls who went there -wished that their daughters should receive not only a sound education, -but that they should be taught many useful things not always included in -the list of a young lady's accomplishments. - -There were thirty scholars, ranging from the ages of seventeen to ten; -two in each room. They were obliged to make their own beds, and take all -the care of their rooms, except the sweeping. Every Saturday morning -they all assembled in the school-room to darn their stockings, and do -whatever other mending might be necessary. Formerly Miss Stiefbach -herself had superintended their work, but for the last year she had put -it under the charge of Miss Christine; an arrangement which was -extremely pleasing to the girls, making for them a pleasant pastime of -what had always been an irksome duty. After their mending was done, and -their Bible lesson for the following Sabbath learned, the rest of the -day was at their own disposal. Those who had friends in the neighborhood -generally went to visit them; while the others took long walks, or -occupied themselves in doing whatever best pleased them. There were of -course some restrictions; but these were so slight, and so reasonable, -that no one ever thought of complaining, and the day was almost always -one of real enjoyment. Miss Stiefbach herself was an Episcopalian, and -always required that every one, unless prevented by illness, should -attend that church in the morning; but, in the afternoon, any girl who -wished might go to any other church, first signifying her intention to -one or the other of the sisters. - -Some of Miss Stiefbach's ancestors had suffered from religious -persecutions in Germany, and, although she felt it her duty to have her -scholars attend what she considered to be the "true church," she could -not have it on her conscience to be the means of preventing any one from -worshipping God in whatever manner their hearts dictated. - - - - -CHAPTER III. - -MONSIEUR BÉRANGER. - - -It was the half-hour intermission at school; and Marion and Florence had -taken Julia Thayer up into their room to give her a taste of some of the -goodies they had brought from home with them. Their room was one of the -largest in the house, having two deep windows; one in front, the other -on the side. The side window faced the west, and in it the girls had -placed a very pretty flower-stand filled with plants; an ivy was trained -against the side, and a lovely mirandia hung from the top. The front -window had a long seat fitted into it, and as it overlooked the street -it was here that the girls almost always sat at their work or studies. - -"Now, Julie," began Marion, "which will you have, sponge or currant?" - -"Why, you are getting awfully stingy!" exclaimed Flo; "give her some of -both." - -"No, she can't have both; it is altogether too extravagant. This is my -treat, and you need not make any comments." - -"Well, if I can't have but one, I think I'll try sponge." - -"Sensible girl! you knew it would not keep long. There, you shall have -an Havana orange to pay you for your consideration." - -"Please, ma'am," said Flo, in a voice of mock humility, "may I give her -some of my French candies?" - -"Yes, if you'll be a very good girl, and never interfere again when I am -'head-cook and bottle-washer.'" - -The girls sat round the room chatting and eating; Flora and Julia were -on the bed, when Marion, who was at the front window, jumped up on the -seat, and called out: "O Flo! Julie! do come here! Just look at this man -coming down the street. Such a swell!" - -The two girls rushed precipitately to the window, and they all stood -looking out with intense interest. - -"I do declare, he is coming in here! Who in the world can he be? How he -struts!" said Marion. "What a startling mustache! I do wonder who in the -world he is." - -"Allow me to see, young ladies; perhaps I can inform you," said a calm -voice directly in their ears; and, turning, they beheld Miss Stiefbach. -She had entered the room just as they began their comments, and now -stood directly behind them. Florence and Julia fell back in dismay, and -for a second a look of amazement passed over Marion's face; but it was -only a second, for she instantly replied to Miss Stiefbach, in the same -eager tone she had used when speaking to her companions: "Jump right up -here; you can see him better, for he is underneath on the steps." - -Miss Stiefbach looked at her aghast, and for once she was overpowered. -She, the calm, the dignified, the stately Miss Stiefbach--jump! It was -too much. If a glance could have transfixed her, Marion would have been -immovable for life. Miss Stiefbach's usually pale face was flushed to a -burning red, and her voice was choked with suppressed excitement, as she -said, "Young ladies, you will go at once to the school-room. Miss -Berkley, report to me in my study, immediately after the close of -school;" and she sailed out of the room. - -When she was gone, the girls stood and looked at each other, not exactly -knowing whether to laugh or cry; but Marion decided for herself, by -sitting down on the floor, and bursting into a fit of uncontrollable -laughter. Florence held up her finger warningly, "Hush-sh-sh! Mab, -she'll hop out from under the bed, like as not; do come downstairs." - -"O girls! girls! that look!" shouted Marion. "Oh, I shall die! She was -furious. Won't I catch it?" - -"O Mab, how did you dare? It was awfully impudent." - -"I know it, and I'm sure I don't know what made me say it. I never -stopped to think; it just popped out, and I would not have lost that -scene for anything;" and Marion went off again into one of her -laughing-fits. - -"O Mab, do stop!" said Julia, rather impatiently; "you'll get us into a -pretty scrape." - -"Well, I won't laugh another bit, if I can help it; come on!" and, -jumping up, Marion ran downstairs, the others following her, into the -school-room; when, what was their astonishment to see before them "the -swell," who had been the cause of all their trouble, standing talking to -Miss Stiefbach. They went quietly to their seats, wondering what would -happen next. Marion whispered to Flo, "The new French teacher; a man, as -I live, and not very old either. Won't we have fun?" - -"Young ladies of the first class in French go into the anteroom, where -M. Béranger will examine you. Miss Christine, accompany them, and -preserve order." As Miss Stiefbach said this in her usual calm tones, -Marion's recollections were almost too much for her; but she had a -little laugh all to herself, behind the cover of her desk, as she took -out her books. - -The former French teacher had been a little, quiet woman, who had -allowed herself to be ruled over by her pupils; but she had gone back to -France, and Miss Stiefbach had secured the services of M. Béranger, who -was recommended to her, both for his complete knowledge of his own -language, and for his high moral character. The latter was indeed to be -considered, for many foreigners, calling themselves professors, often -prove to be mere worthless adventurers, knowing very little themselves -of what they attempt to teach others, and being in other respects unfit -for respectable society. - -The young ladies were in quite a little flutter of expectation, as they -took their seats, for Mr. Stein, their old music-teacher, was the only -gentleman teacher of the establishment, and he was decidedly different -from this rather elegant-looking Frenchman. M. Béranger came in, bowed -in a dignified manner, took his chair, and at once began questioning the -girls as to what they had studied, how far they were advanced, etc. -Marion, who was ready for anything, and thought she might as well have a -little more fun for the scolding that she knew was in store for her, -tried hard to get up a little excitement; pretending not to understand -when M. Béranger spoke to her; replying to all his questions in English, -notwithstanding his repeated ejaculations of "Mademoiselle, je ne vous -comprends pas du tout; parlez Français." But Marion would not "parlez -Français," disregarding the beseeching looks of Miss Christine, and -either made no reply, or obstinately spoke in English. For some time M. -Béranger took no notice of her conduct, but went on questioning the rest -of the class; assuring the timid by his polite, considerate patience, -and quietly correcting the mistakes of the more confident. At last, -however, as Marion asked him some trifling question, he looked her -directly in the face, and simply replied, "M'lle Berkley, si vous parlez -l'Anglais, il faut que je vous mette dans la classe des petites filles." - -Marion looked at him a moment, in doubt whether he could be in earnest; -but there was no mistaking that calm, determined look. Two things were -before her: to rebel, and go down to the lower class in disgrace, or to -yield gracefully to what she knew to be right. She chose the latter, and -replied, "Monsieur, je pense que je resterai ici." As she said this, -there was a slight flush of shame on her cheeks, and she bent her head -with a little gesture, which seemed to beg pardon for her rudeness. At -any rate, M. Béranger so understood it, and he ever afterwards -entertained a secret respect and admiration for M'lle Berkley. - -That night, in her own room, Marion thus explained her singular conduct: -"You see, Flo, I wanted to find out, in the first place, what sort of -stuff he was made of; whether he was to rule us, or we him, as we did -poor little mademoiselle; and I found out pretty quickly. He came here -to teach, not to be made game of. In two weeks, I expect to have the -true Parisian accent, and to have entirely forgotten all the English I -ever knew. Bonne nuit, ma chère;" and Marion turned over, and was asleep -in five minutes. - - - - -CHAPTER IV. - -MARION'S SENTENCE. - - -Immediately after the close of school Marion betook herself to the -private study of Miss Stiefbach. This was a small room back of the -drawing-room, fitted up very cosily and comfortably, and which no one -but the sisters ever entered, except on state occasions, or under -circumstances like the present. It must be confessed that Marion did not -feel very comfortable as the door closed behind her, and Miss Stiefbach, -who was sitting at her desk, turned round, motioning her to be seated. -Marion knew she had done very wrong, and was really sorry for it, for, -although none of the scholars could be said to have much affection for -Miss Stiefbach, they all held her in the most profound respect, and no -such direct attack upon her dignity had ever been made within the memory -of any of the present pupils. - -Miss Stiefbach cleared her throat, and commenced speaking in her most -impressive and awful voice. "Miss Berkley" (the fact that she addressed -Marion in this very distant manner proved at once that she was very -angry), "your conduct to me this day has been such as I have never seen -in any young lady since I became the head of this establishment, and I -consider it deserves a severe punishment. The remarks which I overheard -this morning, as I entered your room, were enough in themselves to have -merited a stern rebuke, even if they had not been followed by a direct -insult to myself. I am surprised indeed, that any young ladies brought -up in refined society should have made use of such expressions as -'_swell_' and--and--other words of a like nature." It was evidently so -hard for Miss Stiefbach to pronounce the word, even in a tone of intense -disapproval, that Marion, despite her uneasiness, could not help being -amused; but no trace of her feelings could be seen in her face; she sat -before her teacher perfectly quiet,--so quiet, that Miss Stiefbach could -not tell whether she was deeply repentant or supremely indifferent. - -"I have decided," resumed Miss Stiefbach, "that as M. Béranger was -indirectly connected with the affair, you shall apologize to me before -the whole school, and in his presence, on the next French day, which -will be Friday. I should not have subjected you to this mortification, -if you had shown any willingness to apologize to me here; but as you -seem entirely insensible of the impropriety of your conduct, I consider -that the punishment is perfectly just." - -Marion rose; for one second her eyes had flashed ominously when her -sentence was delivered, but it was the only sign she gave of being -surprised or otherwise moved. Perceiving that Miss Stiefbach had nothing -more to say, she left the room as quietly as she had entered it. Several -of the girls were standing at the study door waiting for her to come -out, for the whole story had by this time become pretty freely -circulated, and every one was impatient to know the result of the -interview. Marion passed them without a glance, and without speaking, -but with the most perfect _sang froid_, and went directly upstairs to -her room. But once there her forced composure gave way, and, throwing -herself on the bed, she burst into a passion of tears. - -Florence, who had been anxiously waiting for Marion to come up, knelt -down beside her, smoothing her hair, calling her by all their fond, pet -names, and doing everything she could to soothe and quiet her, but never -once asking the questions that were uppermost in her own mind, for she -knew that, as soon as this first hysterical fit of weeping was over, her -friend would tell her all. She waited some time, until she became almost -frightened, for Marion's sobs shook her from head to foot, and she -seemed unable to control herself. - -Suddenly Marion sprang up, and exclaimed in the most excited, passionate -tones, "Florence! Florence! what do you think she is going to make me -do? Think of the most humiliating thing you can!" - -"Indeed, my darling, I cannot guess," replied Flo, while she had hard -work to restrain her own tears. - -"I have got to apologize to her before the whole school, and before M. -Béranger next Friday. Oh! I think it is abominable. She wouldn't have -made any other girl do it, but she knows how proud I am, and she thinks -now she'll humble me. Oh, it is too hard, too hard to bear!" and Marion -threw herself back on the pillow, and sobbed aloud. - -Poor Florence was completely overpowered. Distressed as she was for her -friend, and furiously indignant with Miss Stiefbach, she hardly dared to -comfort and sympathize with her, except by caresses, for fear of -increasing her excitement, and she could only throw her arms round -Marion's neck, kissing her repeatedly, and exclaiming again and again, -"I wish I could help you!--I wish I could help you!" - -But after a while the violence of Marion's grief and anger subsided, but -left its traces in a severe headache; her temples throbbed fearfully, -and her face and hands were burning hot. - -Florence wet a cloth in cold water, and laid it on her head, and, -knowing that Marion would prefer to be alone, she kissed her quietly, -and as her eyes were closed was about to leave the room without -speaking, when Marion called her back, exclaiming, "Don't tell the -girls anything about it; they'll find it out soon enough." - -"No, dear, I won't mention it, if I can help it. You lie still and try -to get to sleep. Don't come downstairs to supper. I will excuse you to -Miss Christine, and bring you up a cup of tea." - -"No! no! no!" excitedly repeated Marion; "do no such thing. I wouldn't -stay up from supper, if it killed me to go down; it would only prove to -old Stiffback how deep she has cut, and I mean she shall find it will -take more than _she_ can do to humble me. Be sure and let me know when -the bell rings. I don't think there is much danger of my going to sleep; -but for fear I should, you come up before tea,--won't you?" - -Flo promised, and giving her another kiss, and advising her again to lie -still and go to sleep,--a thing which she knew it was impossible for -Marion to do,--she left the room. - -Left to herself Marion became a prey to her own varying emotions. Pride, -anger, and mortification were rankling in her breast. When she thought -of the coming disgrace which she was to endure, she sobbed and wept as -if her heart would break; and then the image of Miss Stiefbach, with her -calm, cool face, and deliberate manner, seeming so much as if she -enjoyed giving such pain, rose before her mind, and she clenched her -hands, and shut her teeth together, looking as she felt, willing to do -almost anything to revenge herself. - -In her inmost heart she had been truly sorry for having spoken so -impertinently to her teacher, and she had gone to the study fully -prepared to acknowledge that she had done wrong, and to ask pardon for -her fault. But Miss Stiefbach, by presupposing that she felt no regret -for her conduct, or any desire to apologize, had frozen all such -feelings, and roused all the rebellious part of the girl's nature. - -For some time Marion tossed restlessly from side to side; but at last, -finding it impossible to quiet herself, much less to sleep, she got up, -bathed her face, and prepared to arrange her disordered hair. - -To her excited imagination, it seemed almost as if she could hear the -girls downstairs discussing the whole matter. Every laugh she heard she -believed to be at her expense, and she dreaded meeting her companions, -knowing full well that her looks and actions would be the subject of -general comment. - -Throughout the school Marion was not a general favorite; almost all the -girls admired her, but there were few who felt that they really knew -her. - -She was acknowledged by almost all her companions to be the brightest -and prettiest girl in the school, and was apparently on good terms with -all of them; but that was all. Many who would have liked to know her -better, and who would have been glad to make advances of intimate -friendship, felt themselves held back from doing so, by a certain -haughty, reserved manner, which she at times assumed, and by her own -evident disinclination for anything more than an amicable school-girl -acquaintance. - -Marion was quick to perceive the petty weaknesses and follies of these -around her, and her keen sense of the ludicrous, combined with a habit -of saying sharp, sarcastic things, often led her to draw out these -foibles, and show them up in their most absurd light. - -No one knew her faults better than Marion herself, and she was -constantly struggling to overcome them; but her pride and strong will -led her to conceal her real feelings, and often when she was at heart -angry with herself, and ashamed of her wilful, perhaps unkind, behavior, -she would assume an aspect of supreme indifference, effectually -deceiving every one as to what was really passing in her mind. - -She kept her struggles to herself. No one but her friend Florence and -Miss Christine knew how sincerely she longed to conquer her faults, and -how severe these struggles were. - -The knowledge of them had come to Miss Christine by accident. One day -Marion had said something unusually sharp and cutting to one of her -companions, but had appeared perfectly unconscious of having done -anything unkind, and had gone to her own room humming a tune, with the -most perfect nonchalance. - -Miss Christine shortly after followed her, wishing to talk with her, and -show her the folly and wickedness of persisting in such conduct. She had -found her door closed, and, knocking softly and receiving no answer, she -gently opened it, when what was her astonishment to find Marion -stretched upon the floor, weeping violently. She went to her, and, -kneeling down beside her, called her by name. Marion, thus surprised, -could not conceal her grief, or summon her cold, indifferent manner, -and, leaning her head on Miss Christine's shoulder, she sobbed out her -sorrow, shame, and repentance. - -Never since had Miss Christine in any way alluded to the event, or by -any means tried to force herself into Marion's confidence; but this -glimpse into her heart had showed her what she might otherwise never -have known, that Marion saw and regretted her own faults and failings, -and was resolved to conquer them. From that time a secret bond of -sympathy was established between pupil and scholar, and though no word -was spoken, a mild, reproachful glance from Miss Christine, or her hand -laid gently on Marion's shoulder, had often checked a rising -exclamation, or cutting sarcasm, which, no matter how sharply it might -have struck its victim, would have rebounded with greater and deeper -pain to the very heart of Marion. - -At home Marion had little or nothing to call forth the disagreeable -qualities of her disposition. Surrounded by love and admiration on every -side, the darling of her mother, and the pride and glory of her father, -to whom she appeared almost faultless, it was no wonder that she found -it hard to get on smoothly when thrown among a number of girls her own -age, many of whom, jealous of her superior beauty and intelligence, -would have been glad of any opportunity of getting her into trouble. - -Then it was that the worst side of her nature showed itself; and she was -shocked when she discovered how many faults she had which she had never -thought of before. - -Her sharp, sarcastic speeches gave her father infinite amusement when -she was at home; but there her remarks rarely wounded any one; but at -school she made her words tell, and she knew that her tongue was her -greatest enemy. - -But towards the younger girls Marion was always kind and good-natured. -No one ever told such delightful stories, or made such pretty -paper-dolls, or drew them such lovely pictures as Marion Berkley, and it -was always a mystery to them why the "big girls" did not all love her. - - * * * * * - -Downstairs poor Florence had been having a hard time. When she first -made her appearance in the library there had been a general rush towards -her, and she was greeted with a perfect volley of questions, which it -needed her utmost ingenuity to parry. - -She knew Julia Thayer had a right to know all, for she had been -personally concerned in the matter, besides being, next to Flo, Marion's -dearest friend; but she saw that she could not tell her without further -exciting the curiosity of the other girls, and she was forced to take -her book, and appear to be deeply interested in her studies. But, -although her lips monotonously whispered page after page of history, she -knew no more about her lesson than if she had been reading Hindoostanee. - -What was her astonishment when she heard close beside her Marion's -voice, asking, in a perfectly natural tone, "Did Miss Christine say six -pages of English History, or seven?" - -Florence gave a quick glance at Marion's face, and saw that, although -she was a little pale, she showed no signs of the storm that had so -lately disturbed her. Neither did she throughout the evening appear -other than bright and cheerful, effectually silencing by her own -apparent ease any surmises or questions in which her companions might -have indulged, and they all supposed that she had received a severe -reprimand, and that there the matter would end. - -But all agreed with Sarah Brown, who exclaimed, "How Miss Stiefbach had -ever swallowed that pill so easily was a perfect mystery!" - - - - -CHAPTER V. - -THE APOLOGY. - - -"Well, Flo, I've hit it!" exclaimed Marion to Florence, as they were -sitting together in their room Thursday afternoon. - -"What do you mean?--hit what?" - -"Why, I mean I've hit upon a plan; no, not exactly a plan;--I have -decided what my apology shall be." - -"Oh!" said Florence, "do you know just what you are going to say?" - -"No, not precisely; that is, I have not yet settled upon any exact form -of words, but I have got my ideas together, and I really think it will -be something quite out of the common line." - -Florence looked up inquisitively, for Marion's face or voice by no means -expressed the repugnance which she had heretofore shown whenever she had -spoken of the coming apology. In fact she looked rather triumphant, and -a little, amused smile played about the corners of her mouth, as she -bent over her work. - -"Now, Mab," exclaimed Florence, "I know you are up to something! Do tell -me what it is that evidently amuses you so much?" - -"Oh, nothing particular," replied Marion; but in a tone which said -plainly enough that there was something very particular indeed. - -"Now, Mab, you needn't tell me!" - -"That is exactly what I don't mean to do," provokingly replied Marion. - -"Oh, don't be disagreeable! You know I am positively dying with -curiosity; so out with it!" and Florence tossed her own work on to the -bed, and, catching hold of Marion's canvas, threw it behind her, as she -established herself on her friend's lap. - -"Well, I'm sorry, my dear; but if your life depends on my telling you -anything particular to-day, I am afraid you will come to an early -grave." - -Florence laid her hands on Marion's shoulders, and looked steadily into -her eyes. Marion met the look with a confident, amused smile, and -exclaimed, "Well, Flo, you look as sober as a judge. I really believe -you think I meditate murder; but I assure you Miss Stiefbach's life is -in no danger from my hands." - -"I'll tell you just what I do think, Marion. I believe you are going to -refuse to apologize, and if you do, you will be worse off than you've -been yet;" and Florence really looked as serious as if she were trying a -case in court. - -"No, Flo, you needn't trouble yourself on that score. I mean to -apologize before the whole school, and M. Béranger to boot,--just as old -Stiffy ordered." - -"Well, I am glad of it! Not glad that it _must_ be done, you know; but I -was afraid you would try to get rid of it in some way; and I know that -would make matters worse." - -"No, I don't mean to get rid of it; I shall do it in the most approved -style. Come, get up, miss; you're awfully heavy!" - -Florence jumped up, considerably relieved, but still a little suspicious -of her friend's intentions. At that moment Julia Thayer came into the -room. - -"O girls! you here?" she exclaimed. "I've been hunting for you -everywhere." - -"Well, I don't think you hunted much; we've been here ever since lessons -were done," replied Marion. - -"Take a seat, Miss Thayer, and make yourself at home," said Florence. - -"Thank you, I was only waiting to be asked. Now, Marion, do tell me; -have you decided what you are going to say to-morrow?" - -"It is no use asking her; you can't get anything out of her. I've just -tried my best." - -"What! don't you mean to tell us, beforehand?" - -"No." - -"Not a word? not a syllable? Well, I do declare! I tell you what it is, -Flo, she means to astonish us all by some wonderful production." - -"I suppose most of the girls _will_ be astonished, for I don't believe -they know there is to be any apology at all." - -"No, I don't think they suspect it," said Julia. "So much for knowing -how to hold one's tongue." - -"Well, Julia, I guess this is the first time you could be accused of -that," laughingly replied Flo. - -"That is a libel! Who held their tongue about Aunt Bettie's doughnuts, I -should like to know?" - -"Another rare instance," mischievously put in Marion; "put it down, -Julia, you'll never have another chance." - -"But, girls, what do you mean?" cried Julia, in a deprecating tone. "Do -you think I run and tell everything I know?" - -"No, dear, not a bit of it," replied Flo; "you are not quite so reserved -as Marion, but I never heard any one accuse you of telling what you -ought to keep to yourself, or, as the boys say, of 'peaching.'" - -"There, Julia, don't look so forlorn, for mercy's sake!" exclaimed -Marion. "You are so delightfully easy to tease; but I confess it was a -very poor reward for your silence of the past two days, which (she -added with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes) I know must have almost -killed you." - -Julia and Florence both laughed outright at this rather equivocal -consolation, and at that moment the supper-bell rang. - -Friday morning every girl was in her seat precisely as the clock struck -nine; for it was French day, and consequently only the second appearance -of M. Béranger, and the novelty of having him there at all had by no -means worn off. - -He entered the room, shortly after, and, having politely wished Miss -Stiefbach and her sister good-morning, was about to pass into the -anteroom, when Miss Stiefbach detained him. - -"Excuse me, M. Béranger, but I must trouble you to remain here a few -moments." - -M. Béranger bowed with his usual grace, and Miss Stiefbach continued:-- - -"I regret to say (she did not look as if she regretted it at all) that a -circumstance of a most painful nature has lately taken place in this -school. One of my young ladies has done that which makes me deem it -necessary to exact a public apology from her. As you were indirectly -concerned in the matter, I think it proper that the apology should be -made before you. Miss--" - -"But, madame," hastily interrupted the astonished Frenchman, "I cannot -imagine; there must be a meestake--I am a perfect stranger; if you will -have the goodness to excuse me, I shall be one tousand times obliged;" -and the poor man looked as if he himself was the culprit. - -"It is impossible, monsieur," decidedly replied Miss Stiefbach; "one -particular clause of her punishment was, that it should be made in your -presence. Miss Berkley, you will please come forward." - -During the above conversation a most profound silence had reigned -throughout the room; the girls, with the exception of the initiated -three, had looked from one to another, and then at the group on the -platform, with faces expressive of the most intense astonishment, -proving how wholly unsuspicious they had been; but as Marion's name was -pronounced a light broke in upon every one, and all eyes were turned -upon her as she left her seat. - -Miss Stiefbach stood with her hands folded over each other in her usual -stately attitude. M. Béranger looked infinitely annoyed and distressed, -and twirled his watch-chain in a very nervous manner. Miss Christine had -retired to the extreme end of the platform, and was trying to appear -interested in a book; but her face had a sad, pained look, which showed -how fully her sympathies were with her pupil. - -Florence Stevenson buried her face in her hands; she could not bear to -witness her friend's disgrace. Marion advanced quietly up between the -rows of desks, and as she stepped upon the platform turned so as to face -the school. - -She never looked lovelier in her life; a bright color burned in her -cheeks, and her eyes, always wonderfully beautiful, glowed with a -strange light; but the expression of her face would have baffled the -most scrutinizing observer. Calm, quiet, perfectly self-possessed, but -without a particle of self-assurance, she stood, the centre of general -observation. - -Presently she spoke in a full, clear voice: "Miss Stiefbach, as M. -Béranger evidently does not know how he is concerned in this matter, -perhaps I had better explain the circumstances to him." - -Miss Stiefbach bowed her consent, and Marion, turning towards the -bewildered Frenchman, thus addressed him:-- - -"M. Béranger, last Wednesday morning, as I, with two of my companions, -was in my room, which is in the front of the house, my attention was -attracted towards a gentleman who was coming down the street, and I -immediately called my two friends to the window that they might get a -good view of him. Our interest was of course doubly increased when we -saw the gentleman enter this garden. His whole appearance was so -decidedly elegant (here M. Béranger, who began to see that he was the -subject of her remarks, colored up to the roots of his hair) that we -could not help giving our opinions of him, and _I_ applied to him the -word 'swell,' which in itself I acknowledge to be very inelegant; but my -only excuse for using it is, that in this case it was so very -expressive." - -M. Béranger, despite his embarassment, could hardly conceal a smile, -while a suppressed murmur of amusement ran round the room. Miss -Stiefbach looked hard at Marion, but her face was composed, and her -manner quietly polite; she was apparently perfectly unconscious of -having said anything to cause this diversion. - -"While we were talking of him, Miss Stiefbach entered the room, and must -have, unintentionally of course, overheard our comments, for the first -intimation we had of her presence was this remark, which she made -standing directly behind us: 'Young ladies, allow me to see; perhaps I -can inform you.' And now occurred the remark which it was so exceedingly -improper in me to make, and which justly gave so much offence to Miss -Stiefbach." (Here Marion turned towards her teacher, who, as if to -encourage her to proceed, bowed quite graciously.) "I was standing on -the seat in the window, and consequently had the best view of the -gentleman. In the excitement of the moment, regardless of the difference -in our ages, and only remembering that we were impelled by one common -object, I asked her to _jump_ on to the seat beside me. Miss Stiefbach, -for that rudeness I most sincerely ask your pardon. It was wrong, very -wrong of me; I should have stepped aside, thus giving you an excellent -opportunity of gratifying your desire to look at what is rarely seen -here,--a handsome man." - -The perfect absurdity of Miss Stiefbach's jumping up in a window with a -party of wild school-girls, for the sake of looking at a handsome man, -or indeed for her to look at a man at any time with any degree of -interest, could only be appreciated by those who were daily witnesses of -her prim, stately ways. It certainly was too much for the gravity of the -inhabitants of that school-room. - -[Illustration: MARION APOLOGIZES.] - -M. Béranger bit his lip fiercely under his mustache; Miss Christine -became suddenly very much interested in something out in the back yard; -and the school-girls were obliged to resort to open books and -desk-covers to conceal their amusement. - -Marion alone remained cool and collected, looking at Miss Stiefbach as -if to ask if she had said enough. - -Miss Stiefbach's face was scarlet, and she shut her teeth tightly -together, striving for her usual composure. The sudden turn of Marion's -apology, which placed her in such a ridiculous light, had completely -disconcerted her, and she knew not what to do or say. - -If Marion's eyes had twinkled with mischief; if there had been the -slightest tinge of sarcasm in her tone, or of triumph in her manner, -Miss Stiefbach would have thought she intended a fresh insult; but -throughout the whole her bearing had been unusually quiet, ladylike, and -polite. There was no tangible point for her teacher to fasten on, and, -commanding herself sufficiently to speak, Miss Stiefbach merely said, -"It is enough; you may go to your seat." - -Even then, if Marion's self-possession had given way, she would have -been called back and severely reprimanded. But it did not; she passed -all her school-mates, whose faces were turned towards her brimming with -laughter and a keen appreciation of the affair, with a sort of -preoccupied air, and, taking her books from her desk, followed M. -Béranger into the anteroom. - -At recess the girls with one impulse flocked round her, exclaiming, "Oh! -it was too good; just the richest scene I ever saw." - -"What do you mean?" coolly replied Marion. - -"Why!" exclaimed Sarah Brown, an unencouraged admirer of Marion's, "the -way you turned the tables on Miss Stiefbach." - -"Indeed, Sarah, you are very much mistaken; I simply apologized to her -for a great piece of rudeness." - -And Marion turned away and ran upstairs to her own room, where Florence -and Julia were already giving vent to their long pent-up feelings in -only half-suppressed bursts of laughter. - -As Marion made her appearance it was the signal for another shout; but -she only replied by a quiet smile, which caused Julia to ejaculate in -her most earnest manner, "I declare, Marion, you don't look a bit -elated! If I had done such a bright thing as you have, I should be -beaming with satisfaction." - -"Well, Julia, I don't think I _have_ done anything so very smart. To be -sure I have had my revenge, and the only satisfaction I've got out of it -is to feel thoroughly and heartily ashamed of myself." - -"Marion Berkley, you certainly _are_ the queerest girl I ever did see," -exclaimed Julia. - -But Florence, who knew her friend best, said nothing, for she -understood her feelings, and admired her the more for them. - -Marion had been determined to make her apology such as would reflect -more absurdity on her teacher than on herself, and in that way to have -her revenge for what she rightly considered her very unjust punishment. -She had succeeded; but now that her momentary triumph was over, she -sincerely wished that it had never occurred. - -The next day she went to Miss Christine, and told her just how she felt -about it, and that, if she advised her to do so, she would go to Miss -Stiefbach and ask her forgiveness. But Miss Christine told her, that, -although she heartily disapproved of her conduct, she thought nothing -more had better be said about it, for Miss Stiefbach had only been half -inclined to believe that Marion could _intend_ a fresh impertinence. - -And so there the matter ended; but Marion could never fully satisfy her -own conscience on the subject. - -She wrote a long letter to her mother, telling her the whole thing from -beginning to end; and received one in reply, gently, but firmly, -rebuking her for her conduct. - -But the next day came four pages from her father, full of his amusement -and enjoyment of the whole matter, and highly complimenting her on what -he called "her brilliant coup d'état." - -No wonder Marion's better nature was sometimes crushed, when the inward -fires which she longed to extinguish were kindled by a father's hand. - - - - -CHAPTER VI. - -THE NEW SCHOLAR - - -"O girls, the new scholar has come!" shouted little Fannie Thayer, as -she bounced into the library one afternoon, where some of the older -girls were studying. - -"Do hush, Fannie!" exclaimed her sister Julia; "you do make such an -awful noise! Of course you've left the door open, and it's cold enough -to freeze one. Run away, child." - -"But, Julia," remonstrated Fannie, as her sister went on reading without -taking any notice of her communication, "you didn't hear what I -said,--the new scholar has come." - -"What new scholar?" inquired Florence Stevenson, looking up from her -book. "This is the first I have heard of any." - -"Why, don't you know?" answered little Fannie, glad to have a listener. -"Her name is--is--Well, I can't remember what it is,--something odd; but -she comes from ever so far off, and she's real pretty, kind of -sad-looking, you know." - -"What in the world is the child talking about?" broke in Marion. "Who -ever heard of Miss Stiefbach's taking a scholar after the term had -begun?" - -"I remember hearing something about it, now," said Julia. "The girl was -to have come at the beginning of the quarter; but she has been sick, or -something or other happened to prevent. I believe she comes from St. -Louis." - -"I wonder who she'll room with; she can't come in with us, that's -certain," said Marion, with a very decided air. - -"Why, of course she won't," replied Florence; "we never have but two -girls in a room. Oh! I know, she will go in with little Rose May; see if -she doesn't!" - -"Well, I tell you, I am sorry she's come!" ejaculated Marion. "I hate -new scholars; they always put on airs, and consider themselves sort of -privileged characters. I for one shall not take much notice of her." - -"Why, Marion," exclaimed Grace Minton, "I should think you would be -ashamed to talk so! She may be a very nice girl indeed. You don't know -anything about her." - -"I don't care if she is a nice girl. She ought to have come before. It -will just upset all our plans; the classes are all arranged, and -everything is going on nicely. There are just enough of us, and I say it -is a perfect bother!" - -"I really don't see why you need trouble yourself so much," broke in -Georgie Graham, who was always jealous of Marion, and never lost an -opportunity of differing with her, though in a quiet way that was -terribly aggravating. "I don't believe you will be called upon to make -any arrangements, and I don't see how one, more or less, can make much -difference any way." - -The entrance of Miss Christine prevented Marion's reply, and she -immediately took up her book and became apparently absorbed in her -studies. - -"O Miss Christine," they all exclaimed at once, "do tell us about the -new scholar." "Is she pretty?" "Will she be kind to us little girls?" -"How old is she?" and many other questions of a like nature, all asked -in nearly the same breath. - -"If you will be quiet, and not all speak at once, I will try and tell -you all you want to know. The name of the new scholar is Rachel Drayton. -She is about sixteen, and I think she is very pretty, although I do not -know as you will agree with me. She seems to have a very lovely -disposition, and I should think that after a while she might be very -lively, and a pleasant companion for you all; but at present she is very -delicate, as she has just recovered from a very severe illness brought -on by her great grief at the death of her father. They were all the -world to each other, and she was perfectly devoted to him. She cannot -yet reconcile herself to her loss. He has been dead about eight weeks. -Her mother died when she was a baby, and the nearest relation she has is -her father's brother, who is now in Europe. Poor child! she is all alone -in the world; my heart aches for her." - -Miss Christine's usually cheery voice was very low and sad, and the tear -that glistened in her eye proved that her expressions of sympathy were -perfectly sincere; if, indeed, any one could have doubted that kind, -loving face. As she ceased speaking, there was a perfect silence -throughout the room, and those who had felt somewhat inclined to side -with Marion felt very much conscience-stricken. - -Marion, however, continued studying, not showing the slightest signs of -having had her sympathies aroused. - -Miss Christine continued: "I hope, girls, you will be particularly kind -to Miss Drayton. She must naturally feel lonely, and perhaps diffident, -among so many strangers, and I want you all to do everything in your -power to make it pleasant for her. You in particular, Marion, having -been here longer than any of the others, will be able to make her feel -quite at home." - -"Indeed, Miss Christine, you must excuse me. You know taking up new -friends at a moment's notice, and becoming desperately intimate with -them, is not my forte." - -"Marion," replied Miss Christine, in a quiet, but reproving tone, "I do -not ask you to become desperately intimate with her, as you call it, or -anything of the kind. I merely wish you to show her that courtesy which -is certainly due from one school-girl to another." - -Marion made no reply, and Miss Christine sat down and commenced talking -to the girls in her usual pleasant manner. It was her evident interest -in everything which concerned them, that made her so beloved by her -pupils. - -They all knew that they could find in her a patient listener, and a -willing helper, whenever they chose to seek her advice; whether it was -about an important, or a very trifling matter. - -There was some little bustle and confusion as the girls laid aside their -books, and clustered round Miss Christine with their fancy-work, or -leaned back in their chairs, glad to have nothing in particular to do. - -"Miss Christine!" exclaimed little Rose May, "I do wish you would show -me how to 'bind off.' I keep putting my thread over and over, and, -instead of taking off stitches, it makes more every time. I think these -sleeves are a perfect nuisance. I wish I hadn't begun 'em!" - -"Why, you poor child," laughingly replied her teacher, "what are you -doing? You might knit forever and your sleeves would not be 'bound off,' -if you do nothing but put your worsted over. Who told you to do that?" - -"Julia Thayer did; she said knit two and then put over, and knit two and -then put over, all the time, and it would come all right." - -"Now, Rose, I didn't!" exclaimed Julia. "I said put your stitch over, -you silly child! I should think you might have known that putting your -worsted over would widen it." - -"I know you _didn't_ say put your stitch over," retorted Rose; "you just -said put over, and how was I going to know by that? I think you're real -mean; you never take any pains with us little ones; I don't--" - -"Hush, hush, Rose! You must not speak so," said Miss Christine, laying -her hands on the child's lips; then, turning to Julia, she said, "If you -had taken more pains with Rose, and tried to explain to her how she -ought to have done her work, it would have been much better for both of -you." - -"Well, Miss Christine, she came just as I was thinking up for my -composition, and I didn't want to be bothered by any one. As it was, she -put all my ideas out of my head." - -Miss Christine's only reply was a shake of the head and an incredulous -smile, which made Julia wish she had shown a little more patience with -the child. - -"There, Rose," said Miss Christine, as the little girl put the finishing -touch to her sleeves, "next time you will not have to ask any one to -show you how to 'bind off.' Your sleeves are very pretty, and I know -your mother will be glad her daughter took so much pains to please her." - -Rose glanced up at her teacher with a bright smile, and went skipping -off, ready for fun and frolic, now that those troublesome sleeves were -finished. But she had hardly reached the hall when she came running -back, saying, in a most mysterious sort of stage-whisper, "She's coming! -she's coming downstairs with Miss Stiefbach! Rebecca what's-her-name; -you know!" - -The girls looked up as Miss Stiefbach entered the room, and, although -they were too well-bred to actually stare at her companion, it must be -confessed that their faces betrayed considerable interest. - -Rachel Drayton, the "new scholar," was between sixteen and seventeen; -tall and very slight; her eyes were very dark; her face intensely pale, -but one saw at once it was the pallor of recent illness, or acute mental -suffering, not of continued ill-health. - -She was dressed in the deepest mourning, in a style somewhat older than -that generally worn by girls of her age. Her jet-black hair, which grew -very low on her forehead, was brushed loosely back, and gathered into a -rough knot behind, as if the owner was too indifferent to her personal -appearance to try to arrange it carefully. - -As she stood now, fully conscious of the glances that were -surreptitiously cast upon her, she appeared frightened and bewildered. -Her eyes were cast down, but if any one had looked under their long -lashes, they would have seen them dimmed with tears. - -Accustomed all her life to the society of older persons, no one who has -not experienced the same feeling can imagine how great an ordeal it was -for her to enter that room full of girls of her own age. To notice the -sudden hush that fell upon all as she came in; to feel that each one was -mentally making comments upon her, was almost more than she could bear. -If they had been persons many years older than herself, she would have -gone in perfectly at her ease; chatted first with this one, then with -that, and would have made herself at home immediately. - -Unfortunately the only young persons in whose society she had been -thrown were some young ladies she had met while travelling through the -West with her father. They had been coarse, foolish creatures, making -flippant remarks upon all whom they saw, in a rude, unladylike manner, -and from whom she had shrunk with an irresistible feeling of repugnance. -No wonder her heart had sunk within her when she thought that perhaps -her future companions might be of the same stamp. - -Miss Christine noticed her embarrassment at once, and kindly went -forward to meet her, saying as she did so, "Well, my dear, I am glad to -see you down here; I am not going to introduce you to your companions -now, you will get acquainted with them all in time; first I want you to -come into the school-room with me and see how you like it." - -And she took her hand and led her through the open door into the -school-room beyond; talking pleasantly all the time, calling her -attention to the view from the windows, the arrangement of the desks, -and various other things, until at last she saw her face light up with -something like interest, and the timid, frightened look almost entirely -disappear; then she took her back into the library. - -As they went in, Florence Stevenson, who stood near the fireplace, made -room for them, remarking as she did so, "It is very chilly; you must be -cold; come here and warm yourself. How do you like our school-room?" - -"Very much; that is, I think I shall. It seems very pleasant." - -"Yes, it is pleasant. It's so much nicer for being papered with that -pretty paper than if it had had dark, horrid walls like some I've seen. -What sort of a school did you use to go to?" - -"I never went to school before; I always studied at home;" and poor -Rachel's voice trembled as she thought of the one who had always -directed her studies; but Florence went bravely on, determined to do her -part towards making the new scholar feel at home. - -"Well, I'm afraid you will find it hard to get used to us, if you have -never been thrown with girls before. I don't believe but what you -thought we were almost savages; now honestly, didn't you feel afraid to -meet us?" - -"It was hard," replied Rachel; but as she glanced up at the bright, -animated face before her, she thought that if all her future companions -were like this one she should have no great fears for the future. - -Most of the scholars had left the room; the few who remained were -chatting together apparently unconscious of the stranger's presence, and -as Rachel stood before the fire, with her back to the rest of the room, -and Florence beside her talking animatedly, she was surprised to find -herself becoming interested and at ease, and before Miss Christine left -them the two girls were comparing notes on their studies, and gave -promise of soon becoming very good friends. - -When Marion left the library, she went directly to her room, locked the -door, and threw herself on the seat in the window in a tumult of -emotion. Paramount over all other feelings stood shame. She could not -excuse herself for her strange behavior, and she felt unhappy; almost -miserable. "Why did I speak so?" she asked herself. "Why should I feel -such an unaccountable prejudice against a person I never even heard of -before? I thought I had conquered all these old, hateful feelings, and -here they are all coming back again. I don't know what is the matter -with me. It is not jealousy; for how can I be jealous of a person I -never saw or heard of before in my life? I don't know what it is, and I -don't much care; there aren't four girls in the school that like me, and -only one _I_ really love, and that's dear old Flo. She's as good as -gold, and if any one should ever come between us I pity her! I'll bet -anything though, that she is downstairs making friends with that girl -this minute." - -This thought was not calculated to calm Marion's ruffled feelings, and -she sat brooding by the window in anything but an enviable mood. - -She was still in this state of mind when the tea-bell rang, and hastily -smoothing her hair she went downstairs. - -It chanced that just as she entered the dining-room Rachel Drayton and -Florence came in by the opposite door. Florence was evidently giving -Rachel an account of some of their school frolics, though in an -undertone, so that Marion could not catch the words, and her companion -was listening, her face beaming with interest. No circumstance could -have occurred which would have been more unfavorable for changing -Marion's wayward mood. - -Coming downstairs she had been picturing to herself the unhappiness and -loneliness of the poor orphan, and she had almost made up her mind to go -forward, introduce herself, and try by being kind and agreeable to make -amends for her former injustice; for although she knew Miss Drayton must -be entirely unconscious of it, she could not in her own heart feel at -rest until she had made some atonement. - -No one could have presented themselves to a perfect stranger,--a thing -which it is not easy for most persons to do,--with more grace and -loveliness than Marion, if she had been so inclined, for there was at -times a certain fascination about her voice and manner that few could -resist. - -She had expected to see a pale, sickly, utterly miserable-looking girl, -towards whom she felt it would be impossible to steel her heart; and she -saw one, who, although she was certainly pale enough, seemed to be -anything but miserable, and above all was evidently fast becoming on -intimate terms with her own dear friend Florence. - -That was enough; resolutely crushing down all kindly feelings that were -struggling for utterance, she took her seat at the table as if -unconscious of the stranger's existence. Miss Stiefbach sat at the head -of one very long table, and Miss Christine at another, having most of -the little girls at her end; while Marion sat directly opposite with -Florence on her right. Without changing this long-established order of -things, Miss Christine could not make room for Rachel by the side of -Florence as she would have liked, and the only place for her seemed to -be on Marion's left, as there were not so many girls on that side of the -table. Hoping that such close proximity would force Marion to unbend the -reserved manner which she saw she was fast assuming, Miss Christine, -before taking her own seat, went to that end of the table and introduced -Marion to Rachel, laughingly remarking that as they were the oldest -young ladies there, they would have to sustain the dignity of the table. - -This jesting command was certainly carried out to the very letter of the -law by Marion. - -She was intensely polite throughout the meal, but perfectly frigid in -the dignity of her manner, which so acted upon poor Rachel, that the -bright smiles which Florence had called forth were effectually -dispelled, and throughout the rest of the evening she was the same sad, -frightened girl who had first made her appearance in the library. - -When Marion knelt that night to pray, her lips refused to utter her -accustomed prayers. It seemed hypocrisy for her, who had so resolutely -made another unhappy, to ask God's blessings on her head, and she -remained kneeling long after Florence had got into bed, communing with -herself, her only inward cry being, "God forgive me!" - -But how could she expect God would forgive her, when day after day she -knowingly committed the same faults? - -Sick at heart, she rose from her knees, turned out the gas, and went to -bed, but not to sleep; far into the night she lay awake viewing her past -conduct. - -She did not try to excuse herself, or to look at her faults in any other -than their true light; but, repentant and sorrowful though she might be, -she could not as yet sufficiently conquer her pride to ask pardon of -those she had openly wounded, or to contradict an expressed opinion even -after she regretted ever having formed it. - -Poor child! she thought she had struggled long and fiercely with -herself; she had yet to learn that the battle was but just begun. - - - - -CHAPTER VII. - -AUNT BETTIE. - - -"Oh, dear!" yawned Grace Minton, "how I do hate stormy Saturdays!" - -"So do I!" exclaimed Georgie Graham; "they are a perfect nuisance, and -we were going up to Aunt Bettie's this afternoon." - -"Who's we?" - -"Oh, 'her royal highness' for one, and your humble servant for another; -Sarah Brown, Flo Stevenson, and Rachel Drayton, _of_ course. By the way, -how terribly intimate those two have grown! I don't believe 'her -highness' relishes their being so dreadfully thick." - -"What in the world makes you call Marion 'her highness'?" said Grace. - -"Oh, because she _is_ so high and mighty; she walks round here sometimes -as if she were queen and we her subjects." - -"No such thing, Georgie Graham!" exclaimed Sarah Brown, who came in just -as the last remark was made, and knew very well to whom it alluded; "she -doesn't trouble herself about us at all." - -"That's just it; she thinks herself superior to us poor _plebeians_." - -"Stuff and nonsense! You know you're jealous of her, and always have -been." - -"Oh, no!" replied Georgie, who, no matter how much she might be -provoked, always spoke _to_ any one in a soft purring voice. "Oh, no! -I'm not jealous of her; there is no reason why I should be. But really, -Sarah, I don't see why you need take up the cudgel for her so fiercely; -she always snubs you every chance she gets." - -Sarah tossed her head, blushing scarlet; for the remark certainly had a -good deal of truth in it, and was none the less cutting for being made -in a particularly mild tone. - -"Well, at any rate," said Grace Minton, for the sake of changing the -subject, "I think Rachel Drayton is lovely." - -"Lovely!" exclaimed Georgie, "she's a perfect stick! I don't see what -there is lovely about her, and for my part I wish she had never come -here." - -"Seems to me the tune has changed," broke in Sarah. "I thought you were -one of the ones who were so down on Marion Berkley for saying the same -thing." - -"Oh, that was before I had seen her," replied Georgie, not at all -disconcerted. - -"In other words, you said it just so as to have an opportunity to differ -with Marion," retorted Sarah. "I really believe you hate her!" - -"Sarah, how can you get so excited? it is so very unbecoming, you know," -purred Georgie. Sarah flounced out of the room too indignant for speech, -and just as she was going through the hall met Marion, who was in an -unusually pleasant mood. - -"See, Sarah, it is clearing off; we shall have a chance for our walk, I -guess, after all." - -"Do you think so? It will be awful sloppy though, won't it?" - -"No, I don't believe it will; besides who cares for that? We are not -made of sugar or salt." - -"How many are going?" asked Sarah. - -"I don't know exactly; let me see." And Marion counted off on her -fingers. "You for one, and I for another; that's two. Miss Drayton and -Florence are four. Grace Minton, if she wants to go, five; and Georgie -Graham six." - -At the mention of the last name, Sarah gave her head a toss, which was -so very expressive that Marion could not help laughing, and exclaimed, -"Oh, yes! you know 'her royal highness' must allow some of the -_plebeians_ among her subjects to follow in her train." - -Sarah laughed softly. "Did you hear?" she whispered. - -Marion nodded, and just at that moment Georgie came out of the room -where she had been sitting. "What was that you said, Marion, about 'her -highness'?" she asked. "Did you think that the title applied to -yourself?" - -"I shouldn't have thought of such a thing, Georgie, if I hadn't -overheard your remarks, and of course I could not but feel gratified at -the honorable distinction." - -"How do you know it was meant for an honorable distinction?" - -"How can I doubt it, Georgie, when it was bestowed upon me by such an -amiable young lady as yourself? Now if it had been Sarah, I might have -thought _she_ said it out of spite; but of course when Georgie Graham -said it, I knew it was intended as a tribute to my superiority;" and -Marion made a provokingly graceful courtesy. - -"There is nothing like having a good opinion of one's self," replied -Georgie. - -"But you see you are mistaken there, Georgie; it was you who seemed to -have such a high opinion of me. You know I didn't claim the -greatness,--it was 'thrust upon me;'" and Marion, satisfied with that -shaft, turned on her heel, and opening the front door went out on to -the piazza, followed by Sarah, who had been a silent but appreciative -witness of the scene. - -Georgie Graham shut her teeth, muttering in anything but her usual soft -tones, and with an expression in her eyes which was anything but -pleasant to see, "Oh, how I hate you! But I'll be even with you yet!" - -The shower which had so disconcerted the whole school was evidently -clearing off, and there was every prospect that the proposed plan of -walking to Aunt Bettie's directly after dinner might be carried into -execution. - -Aunt Bettie, as all the school-girls called her, was a farmer's wife, -who supplied the school with eggs, butter, and cheese, and during the -summer with fresh vegetables and berries. - -She lived about two or three miles from the school, on the same road, -and the girls often went to see her. She was fond of them all, although -she had her favorites, among whom was Marion; and she always kept a good -supply of doughnuts, for which she was quite famous, on hand for them -whenever they might come. - -The sun kept his promise, and before dinner-time the girls were all out -on the piazza, getting up an appetite they said, although that was not -often wanting with any of them. - -The party for Aunt Bettie's numbered eight,--Rose May and Fannie Thayer -having begged Marion to ask permission for them to go,--and they all set -out for their walk in high spirits. Although Marion treated Rachel with -a certain degree of politeness, she never spoke to her unless it was -absolutely necessary, and then always addressed her as Miss Drayton, -although every other girl in school had, by this time, become accustomed -to familiarly call her Rachel. Florence had done everything in her power -to draw Marion into their conversation at table, but seeing that she was -determined not to change her manner, she thought it best to take no -more notice of it, as by doing so it only made it the more apparent to -Rachel that Marion had no intention of becoming better acquainted with -her. - -Rachel had been there but a short time, and already Marion began to feel -that Florence was turning from her for a new friend. This was not really -the case, and Florence, who knew Marion's feelings, was secretly very -much troubled. - -She loved Marion as deeply and truly as ever; but she could not turn -away from that motherless girl, between whom and herself an instinctive -sympathy seem to have been established, arising from the loss which they -had each felt, and which naturally drew them closer to each other. -Florence had never known her mother, but the loss was none the less -great to her; she felt that there was a place in the heart that none but -a mother's love could ever have filled, and no matter how bright and -happy she might feel, there was at times a sense of utter loneliness -about her which she found hard to dispel. - -Rachel seemed to turn to her as her only friend among that crowd of -strangers, and she could not refuse to give her her friendship in -return, even at the risk of seeing Marion for a time estranged from her; -for she trusted to Marion's better nature, hoping that in the future she -would not be misjudged, and that all might be made pleasant and happy -again. - -And so to-day for the first time since they had been to school together, -Florence and Marion were taking their Saturday afternoon walk with -separate companions. Marion had Rose May by the hand, while she told -Sarah Brown to take care of little Fannie. Florence and Rachel were -directly in front of her, and she knew that they would have been happy -to have had her join in their conversation. In fact, they spoke so that -she could hear every word they said; but she occupied herself by -telling Rose a story of such remarkable length and interest as to -perfectly enchant the child, who exclaimed as they reached the -farm-house, "O Marion, you do tell the best stories; I really think you -_ought_ to write a book!" Marion laughed, but had no chance to answer, -for at that moment the door opened and Aunt Bettie appeared upon the -threshold. - -"Wall, gals, I be glad to see ye; this is a sight good for old eyes!" - -"Did you expect us, auntie?" asked Marion. - -"Spect yer, child! why, I been a-lookin' for yer these three Saturdays -past! What you been a-doin' that's kept yer so long?" - -"Well, nothing in particular; but you see the term has only just begun, -and we've hardly got settled." - -"Oh, yes, honey, I know; I haint laid it up agin yer. But who's this new -one?--yer haint introduced me." - -As Marion showed no inclination to perform the ceremony Florence -presented Rachel, remarking that she was a new scholar from the West. -But Aunt Bettie's keen eyes took in at a glance the deep mourning -apparel, and her kind heart at once divined its cause; and she exclaimed -with great heartiness as she took Rachel's hands in her own rough palms, -"Wall, child, you couldn't 'a come to a better place than Miss -Stiffback's, and you couldn't 'a got in with a better lot o' girls; take -em as they come, they're about as good a set as I knows on!" - -"O Aunt Bettie!" exclaimed Florence; "flattering, as I live! I wouldn't -have believed it of you." - -"Not a bit of it, child; just plain speakin', a thing that never hurt -anybody yet, according to my notion. But come in, gals; come in, you -must be tired after your long walk, and the tin box is most a-bustin' -its sides, I crammed it so full." - -The girls laughed, for they all knew what the tin box contained, and -were only too ready to be called upon to empty it. - -They all seated themselves in the large, old-fashioned kitchen, with its -low ceiling and tremendous open fireplace, surmounted by a narrow shelf, -on which was displayed a huge Bible, and a china shepherdess in a green -skirt and pink bodice, smiling tenderly over two glass lamps and a -Britannia teapot, at a china shepherd in a yellow jacket and sky-blue -smalls; being, I suppose, exact representations of the sheep-tenders of -that part of the country. - -Aunt Bettie bustled in and out of the huge pantry, bringing out a large -tin box filled to the top with delicious brown, spicy doughnuts, and a -large earthen pitcher of new milk. - -"There, gals," as she put a tray of tumblers on the table, "jest help -yerselves, and the more yer eat, why the better I shall be suited." - -"Suppose we should go through the box and not leave any for Jabe; what -should you say to that?" asked Marion. - -"Never you mind Jabe; trust him for getting his fill. Eat all yer want, -and then stuff the rest in yer pockets." - -"Oh, that wouldn't do at all!" exclaimed Marion; "you don't know what a -fuss we had about those Julia Thayer carried home last year! Miss -Stiefbach didn't like it at all; she said it was bad enough bringing -boxes from home, but going round the neighborhood picking up cake was -disgraceful. She never knew exactly who took them to school, for Julia -kept mum; but I don't think it would do to try it again." - -"Wall, I think that was too bad of Miss Stiffback; she knows nothin' -pleases me so much as to have you come here and eat my doughnuts, and if -you choose to carry some on 'em to school, what harm did it do? She -ought to remember that she was a gal once herself." - -"Oh, mercy! auntie, I don't believe she ever was," ejaculated -Marion. "She was born Miss Stiefbach, and I wouldn't be at all -surprised if she wore the same stiff dresses, and had the same -I'm-a-little-better-than-any-body-else look when she was a baby." - -"Wall, child, she's a good woman after all. You know there aint any of -us perfect; we all hev our faults; if it aint one thing it's another; -it's pretty much the same the world over." - -"You do make the best doughnuts, Aunt Bettie, _I_ ever eat," declared -Fannie Thayer, who was leaning with both elbows on the table, a piece of -a doughnut in one hand, and a whole one in the other as a reserve force. - -"Wall, child, I ginerally kalkerlate I ken match any one going on -doughnuts; but 't seemed to me these weren't 's good as common. I had -something on my mind that worrited me when I was mixin' 'em, and I -'spose I wasn't quite as keerful as usual." - -"If _you_ don't call these good, _I_ do!" ejaculated Miss Fannie. "Why, -I just wish you could have seen some Julia made last summer. She took a -cooking-fit, and tried most everything; mother said she wasted more eggs -and butter than she was worth, and her _doughnuts_!--Ugh! heavy, greasy -things!" - -"She must 'a let 'em soak fat!" exclaimed Aunt Bettie, who was always -interested in the cookery question; "that's the great trouble with -doughnuts; some folks think everything's in the mixin', but I say more'n -half depends on the fryin'. You must hev yer fat hot, and stand over 'em -all the time. I allers watch mine pretty close and turn 'em offen with a -fork, and then I hev a cullender ready to put 'em right in so't the fat -ken dreen off. I find it pays t' be pertickeler;" and Aunt Bettie -smoothed her apron, and leaned back in her chair with the air of one who -had said something of benefit to mankind in general. - -"But where is Julia?" she asked after a short pause. "Why didn't she -come?" - -"Oh, I forgot!" exclaimed Fannie; "she sent her love to you, and told me -to tell you not to let us eat up all your doughnuts this time, because -she'll be up before long and want some. She had a sore throat, and Miss -Stiefbach thought she had better not go out." - -"I'm sorry for that," replied Aunt Bettie; "I hope she aint a-goin' to -be sick." - -"Oh, no, it aint very bad. Julia thinks it's nothing but cankers; she -often has them." - -"Wall, it's always best to be on the safe side, any way," said Aunt -Bettie; "you tell her she needn't be afraid about the doughnuts; I'll -have a fresh batch ready agin the time she comes." - -The business of eating and drinking so occupied the girls' attention, -that they did not enter into conversation as readily as usual; and after -the first flush of excitement at meeting her young friends and -dispensing her hospitality was over, Aunt Bettie, too, subsided into a -quiet, subdued manner, which was quite foreign to her usual brisk -talkativeness. - -She sat in her high-backed rocking-chair, looking at the girls over her -silver-bowed spectacles, with a sad, musing expression, as if the sight -of them called up some unhappy thought. - -This unusual restraint on the part of their hostess communicated itself -in a certain degree to her visitors, though they did not themselves -remark the cause of their silence, and their visit was made shorter than -usual. - -It was Marion who first made the move to go; and although Aunt Bettie -pressed them to remain she did not urge it with her accustomed -eagerness. - -They had got just beyond the bend of the road which hid the old -farm-house from view, when Marion exclaimed, "You run on, Rose, with the -others; I believe I left my gloves on the table; don't wait for me, I'll -catch up with you;" and before Rose could beg to go back with her, she -had turned round and ran off up the road. She ran quickly, but -noiselessly along, and was back to the farm-house in a few moments, and -was surprised to find Aunt Bettie sitting on the door-step with her head -buried in her hands. Going up to her, she found her weeping as if her -heart would break. - -"Aunt Bettie!" she said, in her gentlest tones, "Aunt Bettie! It's only -Marion. What is the matter? I thought you seemed worried about -something, and came back to see if I couldn't help you; can't I?" - -"Oh, dear!" sobbed the poor woman. "It may be dreadful wicked of me, but -the sight of you young things, all lookin' so bright and happy, did make -me feel awful bad, for I couldn't help thinking o' my own darter -Jemimy." - -"Why, what is the matter with her, auntie? Where is she?" - -"The Lord knows, dear, I don't. Not a blessed word hev I heerd from her -it's going on eight weeks. I've writ, and Jabe he's writ, but we haint -had a sign of an answer, and I'm afraid she's dead, or perhaps wus;" and -the poor woman rocked herself back and forth, completely overcome by her -grief. - -"But, auntie," said Marion, laying her hand gently on the good woman's -shoulder, "don't you see there are forty things that might have happened -to prevent your hearing from her? You know a girl that lives out can't -always find time to write as often as she would like. Besides, she may -have got a new place, and in that case might not have received your -letters." - -"I thought o' that, child, and the last letter Jabe writ he directed to -the care of Miss Benson, the woman that keeps the intelligence office; -but that's two weeks an' more ago, and I haven't heerd a word. You see, -Miss Marion, there aint a better-hearted gal livin' than my Jemimy, but -she got kinder lonesome and discontented-like a livin' way off here, and -took it into her head she'd like the city better. She allus was a -high-sperrited gal, and 'twas dull for her here, that's a fact; but I -wish to the Lord I'd held my own and hadn't let her gone; for there's -awful places in them big cities, and my gal's pretty enough to make any -one look at her. I dunno, child, but I can't help feelin' somethin' -dreadful's happened to her." - -"O auntie, you must not get discouraged so easily. I thought you were -one of the kind who always looked on the bright side of things," said -Marion in a cheerful tone. - -"Wall, dear, I do ginerally; but this has just keeled me right over, and -I don't seem to know where I be. You see I haint got any one in the city -as I ken call upon to help me. I don't know a soul in the place I could -get to hunt her up. Sometimes I think I'll go down there; but where's -the use? I should be like a hen with her head cut off in such a great, -strange place as Boston." - -"Well, auntie, I'll try my best to help you. I tell you what I'll do: -you give me Jemima's address, and I'll write to my mother, and get her -to look her up. She has to go to those offices very often after -servants, and like as not she might stumble right on her. Now cheer up, -auntie, for I feel just as if we should find her;" and Marion passed her -hand over Aunt Bettie's wrinkled forehead and gray hair as tenderly as -if she were her own mother. - -Aunt Bettie looked at Marion with the tears still glistening in her -eyes, and a sad smile on her face, as she said:-- - -"Marion Berkley it aint every gal as would take so much trouble for an -old creetur like me, even if she noticed I was sad and worried. You've -comforted a poor, old woman who was most broken-hearted. May the Lord -bless you for it, an' I know he will." - -Marion smiled up at the tender, old face that looked down at her, while -her own flushed with pleasure at the words of commendation. - -It was a pity that there were no unobserved witnesses of the scene; for -Marion Berkley, cold and haughty, apparently indifferent alike to the -praise or blame of those around her, was a very different person from -this gentle girl. Her whole soul was shining through her eyes; all her -haughtiness, pride, and coldness had fallen from her, and she stood -almost like one transfigured, her face beaming with the light which -makes the plainest face seem almost divine,--that of pure, disinterested -sympathy for the sufferings and troubles of a fellow-being. - -For a moment there was silence between the two, while the tears rolled -down both of their cheeks; but Marion dashed hers away, as she exclaimed -in a cheery voice:-- - -"Come, auntie, it is getting late, and I must be off; so get me the -address, please." - -"To be sure, child! How thoughtless I be! I'll get it for yer right -away;" and Aunt Bettie went into the house with something of her usual -briskness, and returning, brought out a scrap of paper, on which was -written in a stiff, cramped, school-boy hand this direction:-- - - "MISS JEMIMA DOBBS, - _In Kare of Mis Benson_, - Number 22 Eest Crorfud Street, - Boston." - -Marion could hardly repress a smile of amusement at the remarkable -orthography; but remembering that in Aunt Bettie's eyes it was a perfect -monument to the glory of her son Jabe, she made no comments, and folding -it up, tucked it carefully away in her purse. Then, with a bright, -encouraging smile, she said good-by to Aunt Bettie, and hurried off down -the road. - -It was much later than she thought, and as the days were rapidly growing -shorter, it was quite dusk, and the girls were entirely out of sight and -hearing. - -But her thoughts kept her company on her long walk, and all the way home -she was turning over in her mind the probabilities and improbabilities -of her mother's being able to find the young, unknown country girl in a -large city like Boston. - -Miss Christine had begun to feel quite anxious about her by the time she -arrived, and Florence met her in the hall with a hearty caress, to which -she responded with her old warmth. - -"Why, you dear, old thing!" exclaimed Florence; "what has kept you so -long? It must have been forlorn walking home at this hour." - -"Oh, I did not mind it; I had something to think of," replied Marion, as -she pulled off her muddy rubbers before going upstairs. "I'll tell you -by and by; I must run up and get ready for supper." - -That night, after they got to bed, Marion gave Florence a synopsis of -her conversation with Aunt Bettie, and told her of her plan of writing -to her mother for assistance. - -"Well," said Florence, "I think it was real good of you to think of it. -What a queer girl you are! I knew we didn't have quite as jolly a time -as usual up there, but I never noticed there was anything the matter -with Aunt Bettie; and if I had I don't believe it would have occurred -to me to go back and comfort her. O Marion!"--and she threw her arm over -her friend's shoulder,--"how much good there is in you! Why won't you -let it all come out?" - -"I don't think there was anything particularly good in that. You see -there was no virtue in my being kind to the poor, old thing, because I -could not help it. If there had been any hateful feelings to overcome, -or any wounded pride to interfere, I probably should not have done it." - -"I'm not so sure of that, Marion. You do conquer yourself sometimes." - -"Not often, dear," Marion replied, with a little, nervous, forced laugh. -"It is too much trouble. Good-night, I must go to sleep." - -But it was long before sleep came to Marion. She laid perfectly still, -so as not to disturb Florence, but the small hours found her still -awake. She had been for some time thoroughly dissatisfied with herself, -and the thought that she had been of some comfort to any one was indeed -pleasant to her; but she would not attribute to herself credit that did -not belong to her. - -It was just as she had said to Florence; she could not help being kind -to the poor old woman in her trouble; she had obeyed the promptings of -her naturally warm heart. It had been an impulsive action, not one in -which a disagreeable duty had been plainly pointed out for her to -follow; and she determinedly put aside all feeling of self-satisfaction. -She knew that if Rachel Drayton had made a similar appeal to her -kindness and sympathy, her heart would have been resolutely closed -against her, and she would not have spoken a single encouraging word. - -This thought thrust itself upon her again and again. She tried to put it -from her, but it was no use; she could not evade it. She told herself -that she was ridiculously conscientious; that this girl had no claims -upon her; and that she had done all that Miss Christine asked of her; -treated Rachel politely and courteously; but she knew that her -politeness had been cold and formal, and her courtesy less kindly than -she would bestow upon a beggar at the door. But she said to herself, -Florence makes up for all my deficiencies. This bitter thought, in -various forms, had rankled in her breast day and night. She had often -said that nothing could ever make her jealous of Florence; their -affection had been too lasting, too much a part of themselves, for -either to suspect the other of inconstancy; and now she was the first to -doubt. - -But the last words of Florence, as they talked that night, came back to -her, and she remembered the fond embrace and the earnestness of her -voice as she besought her to act her real self. - -Should she doubt that generous heart, that had shown its love for her in -a thousand ways, because, when it was appealed to by a fatherless, -motherless girl, it had responded with all the warmth of its true, -generous nature? - -No, she could not do it; she felt that it was only another reason for -loving her more, and tears of shame and sorrow filled her eyes, as, -bending over in the darkness, she pressed a kiss upon the lips of her -sleeping companion. - -Her unjust suspicion of her friend vanquished and conquered forever, her -thoughts gradually wandered back to Aunt Bettie, and with her mind full -of plans and projects in her behalf, she at last fell asleep. - - - - -CHAPTER VIII. - -AT CHURCH. - - -Sunday morning came bright and clear, but very cold, and many of the -girls made their appearance in the library, shaking and shivering, as if -they had never before experienced a northern winter. - -"Gracious me!" exclaimed Sarah Brown, "I'm almost frozen. My room is as -cold as a barn! My cheeks are as blue as a razor, and my nose looks like -a great cranberry. Do let me get near the fire, Georgie; you're keeping -the heat off of every one." - -Georgie made way for her, quietly remarking, as she did so:-- - -"Well, Sarah, I must say the cold is not very becoming to your style of -beauty; your nose and hair together ought to heat this room." - -"You needn't say anything, Miss Graham; you're not so killing handsome -yourself that you can afford to make fun of others!" hotly retorted -Sarah. - -It was a notable fact that these two could never come together without a -passage-at-arms. Grace's quietly hateful remarks always excited Sarah to -a most unmitigated degree, and she could not seem to learn by experience -that the only way to silence her was to take no notice of them; and -their disputes were often great sources of amusement to the other girls. - -Georgie, tall and rather distingué-looking, although not pretty, with -her quietly assured manner even when she knew herself beaten, and her -hypocritically soft tones, was almost always more than a match for -Sarah, who never could hide her feelings no matter what they were and -who always retorted as sharply and spitefully as she could. She was a -warm-hearted little thing, as honest and true as she was impulsive, and -Georgie's quiet, deliberate hatefulness was more than she could bear. - -If there was one subject on which Sarah was more sensitive than another -it was her hair. It was a rich, reddish-yellow; very thick, long and -curling, and any artist would have looked upon it with admiration; but -it was the bane of Sarah's existence. When she was a little girl it had -been really red, but time had softened its shade, and many a Parisian -belle might have envied Sarah its possession. Sarah could see no beauty -in it, for at home she was often greeted by the name of "carrot-top," -and "little red hen;" and once when she got into a very excited argument -with her brother, and stood shaking her head at him with the long curls -which she then wore, flying about her shoulders, he had run out of the -room, shouting as he got well out of reach:-- - -"I say, Sal! how much would you charge to stand on Boston common nights, -and light the city? Your head would save all the expense of gas!" - -You may be pretty sure it did not take Georgie Graham long to find out -Sarah's weakness, and so the poor child's bane was still kept before her -even at school, where there were no troublesome brothers. - -She resolutely brushed out her long curls, and braided them into soft, -heavy braids, winding them round and round at the back of her head until -it looked like a great golden bee-hive; but she could not keep the front -from rippling into soft, delicate waves; or the short hairs from -twisting themselves into numberless little curls, which all the -crimping-pins and hot slate-pencils in the world could not imitate. This -hair which Georgie Graham so affected to despise was in reality a great -object of her admiration, and she would have gladly exchanged it, with -its usual accompaniments of glowing cheeks and scarlet lips, for her own -sallow skin and scanty, drabbish-brown locks. But I have made a -digression; let us return to our group in the library. - -"What are you two quarrelling about this lovely Sunday morning?" asked -Florence Stevenson as she and Marion came into the room together. - -"Oh, we were not quarrelling," replied Georgie. "Sarah was only -remarking that her cheeks were as blue as razors and her nose like a -cranberry, and I agreed with her,--that was all." - -"Yes," exclaimed Sarah, "and I told you you weren't killing handsome, -and I dare say you agreed with me, though you didn't say so. But there -is one thing certain, if the cold makes frights of both of us, it makes -Marion look like a beauty!" and Sarah's eyes sparkled mischievously. - -Georgie only shrugged her shoulders and elevated her eyebrows, as she -replied, "Chacun à son gout." - -"But it doesn't happen to be your "gout," does it, Georgie?" -good-naturedly replied Marion, who knew very well that Sarah's -admiration of herself was thus publicly exhibited solely for the sake of -annoying Georgie. - -"Come, girls, let's declare peace, or at least a 'cessation of -hostilities;' it's a shame to commence the day with quarrels;" and -Florence knelt down on the rug between the two girls, looking up at them -with a smile that it would have been hard for any one to have resisted. - -Directly after this Miss Stiefbach entered, and all were quiet as she -read the morning prayers, and they joined in the responses. - -By ten o'clock the girls, with the exception of Julia Thayer, whose -throat was still troubling her, and Grace Minton, who was suffering from -a sick headache, were on their way to church. They did not walk in a -regular procession like so many convicts on their way to prison, but -each chose her own companion, and the walk was enlivened with pleasant -conversation. It so chanced that Marion and Georgie Graham were -together, not by choice of either party, but because they both happened -to come downstairs a little late, and the others had already got into -the street as they came out the front door. Florence Stevenson, Miss -Christine, and Rachel Drayton were all walking together, and Georgie, -observing this, thought it would be an excellent opportunity for making -Marion thoroughly uncomfortable. - -"It seems to me," she began, "you and Florence are not quite so fond of -each other as you used to be; or is it that she is not so fond of you?" - -"I don't think there is any difference on either side," quietly replied -Marion, determined not to lose her temper, or be led into saying cutting -things of which she would have to repent. - -"Oh, if you think so, I suppose it is all right; but I don't believe -there's a girl in the school who hasn't noticed how Florence has left -you to run after Rachel Drayton." - -Marion resolutely kept silence, and Georgie, thinking that her shots had -not taken effect, continued: "I don't see what there is about that girl, -I'm sure, to make Flo fancy her so much; she certainly isn't pretty, and -she's awfully lackadaisical." - -"I think she is very pretty," replied Marion; "and the reason she seems -lackadaisical is because she is not strong." - -"I thought you did not like her," said Georgie, "you certainly have not -troubled yourself much to entertain her." - -"I do not see as that is any reason why I should not think her pretty, -or why I should not see that she is quiet, because she is not only weak, -but very homesick and sad." - -"Why, really, Marion, I had not any idea you had taken enough notice of -her to see all that. What a farce you must have been acting all this -time, to seem so indifferent when you were _really_ so deeply -interested!" - -"If that is so, Georgie," replied Marion, as she looked her companion -steadily in the face, "I have been a better actress than you, for you -play your part so badly that the little boys in the amphitheatre might -see into the plot in the first act. I advise you to try another rôle." - -Georgie opened her eyes in pretended astonishment; but she knew very -well what Marion meant, and that her intentions of tormenting her -companion were fully understood. But that fact did not prevent her from -saying in a gently insinuating tone: "Now, Marion, don't be provoked, -but _don't_ you think that Florence is rather turning the cold shoulder -on you?" - -"No, Miss Graham, I do not," emphatically replied Marion, and for at -least five minutes Georgie said nothing. "I wonder!" she at last -exclaimed, "if Rachel Drayton is rich. I think she must be, for although -there is no style to her clothes, and she is of course very -dowdy-looking, still everything she has is made of the most expensive -material, and you know nice mourning costs awfully. Just look at her -vail now; see how long it is, and of the heaviest crépe; but she looks -like a ghost under it! I don't believe but what she is rich." - -"Well, Georgie," replied Marion, with the slightest possible curve of -her lip, "I can satisfy you on that point. She _is quite_ well off; her -father left about two millions, and with the exception of a few legacies -of two or three hundred thousand or so, mere trifles to her, she will -have it all; you see she is pretty well provided for." - -"Two millions!" exclaimed Georgie, startled out of her usual composure; -"two millions! why, I hadn't any idea of it." - -"No, I thought not," dryly replied Marion. - -"But, Marion, are you sure? How did you know it?" - -"I heard Miss Stiefbach tell Miss Christine so the day Miss Drayton came -here." - -"And you've known it all this time!" ejaculated Georgie, who could not -get over her astonishment. - -"Yes," replied Marion, "I've known it all this time, and actually -haven't toadied her yet; aren't you surprised?" and Marion's voice had, -by this time, assumed its most coolly sarcastic tones, and her eyes -flashed scorn and indignation upon her bewildered companion. - -"I wonder if Florence Stevenson knew it. I suppose of course she did," -musingly remarked Georgie. - -"No, she did not," sharply retorted Marion; "and she doesn't know it -now, I'm sure." - -"Well, I don't know what to make of it!" replied Georgie in an annoyed -tone; "an heiress in school and no one to know it!" - -"Don't you think her prettier than when you first saw her?" exclaimed -Marion, in such cutting, sarcastic tones that even Georgie winced; "and -her pale face, I'm sure you think there is something very distingué -about that, set off by her 'heavy, expensive crépe;' and then I know you -must think that there is something decidedly aristocratic about her -'lackadaisical' manner;" and Marion gave a little bitter laugh, -expressing quite as much scorn as her words. - -At that moment, they entered the church porch, and Georgie made no -reply, only too glad of an excuse for silence. - -Miss Stiefbach's scholars occupied the first six pews from the front; -three on each side of the broad aisle. Miss Stiefbach sat at the head of -one, with five of the youngest girls, and Miss Christine, on the -opposite side, also had some of the smaller girls with her, while the -rest of the scholars occupied the pews in front of their teachers. - -As Marion entered the church, and the girls quietly took their places -and knelt in prayer, the solemn stillness of the place struck painfully -upon her. She could not so soon shake off all outward impressions, and -the cutting words which had passed her lips, just as she entered that -holy place, were still ringing in her ears. - -She had risen that morning, her mind still filled with the pleasant -thoughts which had lulled her to sleep, and with good resolutions for -the future. She felt glad that it was Sunday, for she thought she was in -the mood to be benefited by the sacred influences of the day. - -But where now were her good resolutions? She had yielded to the first -temptation; she had broken the vows made on her knees that morning, and -she was utterly disheartened and discouraged. - -She knelt with the rest, her head bowed as if in prayer, but her mind in -a wild confusion of anger, shame, and remorse; but the anger died, -leaving nothing but the saddest, most wretched thoughts of all; the -sense of utter failure; of continued shortcomings, of broken resolutions -and disregarded vows, made sacred by the time and place of their -utterance. - -She thought she was wicked because she could not pray, because her -thoughts would not become composed, quiet, and peaceful, like the place -and hour, and she knelt on, her hands clasped tightly together, and her -head pressed down into them, the only cry that could silently shape -itself into words, breaking from her heart in very agony of doubt and -despair: "O God, help me! O God, save me from myself!" - -And who shall say that it was not enough? That that cry, coming from the -depths of a heart distressed, remorseful and repentant for errors that -to many would seem but trifles, did not reach the ear of Him who, -bending in mercy and love, sees into the hearts of all; reads the very -secrets of their souls; and to all who sincerely put their faith in Him -surely, sooner or later, sends them His consolation and peace? As the -others rose from their knees Marion was recalled to herself, and rising -with the rest, she opened her prayer-book and joined in the service, -which had just then commenced. - -Mrs. Berkley had requested, when Marion entered Miss Stiefbach's school, -that no sectarian influences should be brought to bear upon her -daughter's mind. She wished that her child should follow her own -inclinations and the dictates of her own conscience in religious -matters, for she understood her well enough to know that she would not -blindly follow any faith without first feeling sure that she clearly -comprehended and sincerely believed all that its doctrines taught. The -influences which of course continually surrounded, although in a quiet, -unobtrusive way, were not without their effect. She loved the service of -Miss Stiefbach's church, and joined in it heartily. It seemed to her -that it brought her nearer to God if she knelt the first thing when she -entered the church and asked his blessing on her head. Not that silent, -heartfelt prayers could not be uttered anywhere and in any position; but -it seemed to her as if there, on her knees, in the place sacredly -dedicated to his worship. God did not seem so far off--as if she could -more earnestly and fervently supplicate him. - -There was much in the service which she could not believe and accept as -it was intended it should be accepted; but she interpreted it as her own -heart dictated. The greater part, however, she believed and repeated -with reverence, and a feeling which could never come to her in her own -church; for there the intense simplicity and almost business-like manner -of conducting the service, struck harshly upon her sensibilities; and -she missed the participation in the prayers and responses which seemed -to draw her out of herself, and raise her thoughts above their common -level, even into the presence of the most High. - -But to-day the holy words, the prayers and selections had no power to -calm her troubled spirit; she tried to fix her thoughts upon the sermon, -and not let them wander to dwell upon her own troubles; but it was no -use; her mind was still in bitter confusion when she left the church. - -As she went down the path, Georgie, who seemed to have forgotten her -previous discomfiture, if not the subject of their conversation, joined -her and began plying her with fresh questions about Rachel Drayton. -Marion did her best to evade her remarks, but Georgie would not let her -alone, until, thoroughly exasperated and provoked beyond endurance, she -exclaimed shortly:-- - -"Georgie, I do wish you'd hold your tongue! I'm sick of your questions; -do let me alone!" - -"Dear me!" replied Miss Georgie, "you were very communicative this -morning; but it's not very strange that you should be rather annoyed, -considering Rachel has taken your best friend away." - -An angry retort rose to Marion's lips, but she controlled herself -sufficiently to keep from uttering it; although the expression of her -face warned Georgie that she had said quite enough, and the two -continued their walk in silence. - -Having received permission from Miss Stiefbach, Marion set off -immediately after dinner for the All Saints' church, and as the services -began a half hour before St. Mark's she had her walk all to herself; nor -was she sorry for this, for she did not feel like talking to any one. - -She was early; hardly any one was in the church, and without waiting for -the sexton to show her into a pew, she took the very front one, knowing -that it was almost always unoccupied. The hymns were read by the -clergyman of the parish; a good, earnest man, and one who in the homes -of the poor, and by the bedsides of the suffering and dying was often -seen, and most sincerely loved; but he had not the gift of preaching; he -rarely made his sermons go home to the hearts of his hearers, and Marion -felt disappointed when she saw him; she had hoped to hear some one else. - -Her surprise and pleasure was great, when Mr. More stepped forward and -announced that Mr. B., who had been pastor of that church fifteen years -before, would preach for them that day. - -The minister came forward, and bowing his head, remained for a moment in -silent prayer; when he lifted it again Marion felt as if she had seen -the face of an angel, so holy, peaceful, and patient was its expression. -He was a very old man; his hair hung long and white about his shoulders; -and as the beams of the afternoon's sun fell upon it, it gleamed with a -light which was almost unearthly, spiritualizing and sanctifying that -beautiful old face, until it seemed to many as if he were speaking to -them from the very gates of heaven. His sermon was short but impressive; -the gentle pathos of his voice, and the earnestness of his manner, were -felt by all who heard him. Bending over the pulpit as he closed his -discourse, his voice fell into a soft, musical cadence, which though -very low reached the most remote recesses of the church, and stretching -out his arms as if he would have taken each one by the hand and led them -to the haven where he had found rest and peace, he exclaimed, or rather -entreated:-- - -"O my friends! look down into your own hearts, and read each one of you -what is written there; pride, wilfulness, sin in many forms. Man's -greatest enemy is self. But who has said, 'He that conquereth himself is -greater than he that taketh a city'?--Jesus! Jesus the Saviour, who came -to wash out all our sins; to give us strength for the struggles and -trials which come to us all; to teach us patience, humility, and -charity. - -"Each one in this world, young or old, has his sorrows to bear; his -temptations to resist; his victories to gain; and to each one it seems -sometimes as if everything was darkness and desolation; the blackness of -night surrounds them on every side; darkness! darkness everywhere! no -light, no hope, no guide. Look up, my friends! look up! not to the -darkness; but above it, beyond it, to where Christ stands, ready, ay, -more than ready. He comes to meet you, his eyes beaming with -compassionate love, his hands outstretched. Grasp those hands, hold fast -and firm; they, and they alone, can lead you through storm and darkness, -through sorrow and fear; until kneeling at last in perfect peace and -happiness you shall behold the face of your Father in heaven." - -Then followed the Lord's Prayer; but Marion could not take her eyes from -that holy face. It seemed to her as if every word had been uttered for -her alone; as if the speaker had looked down into the secrets of her -heart and had tried to give her comfort and consolation. - -And this was partly true. As Mr. B. leaned forward and cast his eyes -over the congregation they fell upon the face of that young girl, -looking up at him with a longing, wistful, tearful glance that startled -him. For many years he had been settled over a fashionable society in -New York, where he often felt that the words he uttered were but as -"seed sown by the wayside" or "on stony ground;" but there was no -mistaking the earnestness of that face, over which was spread an -expression which it pained him to see in one so young; for he knew that -her trials, whatever they were, were but just begun, and thinking of the -years of struggling that would probably come to her, his heart yearned -over her in deepest sympathy. With the thought of her uppermost in his -mind he gave out the closing hymn; two verses only. Marion had heard -them often before, but their depth and meaning never came to her so -fully as now:-- - - "Give to the winds thy fears; - Hope and be undismayed; - God hears thy sighs, and counts thy tears; - He shall lift up thy head. - - "Through waves, through clouds and storms, - He gently clears thy way; - Wait thou his time, so shall the night - Soon end in glorious day." - -As the last notes of the choir died away, and Marion bowed her head to -receive the benediction, she felt strengthened and encouraged; and a -peace such as she had not known for months fell upon her heart. - -As she passed out of church she avoided meeting any one whom she knew, -and hurried out of hearing of the remarks of various members of the -congregation, who were commenting on the sermon in very much the same -manner as if it had been a theatrical performance. - -Such expressions as, "Very fine sermon, wasn't it?--hit some of us -pretty hard;" or "What a charming voice and manner! why, he really quite -touched me!" made by different persons in a flippant, off-hand tone, -jarred upon her ears, and she was thankful to leave them all behind. - -As she was about to cross the street, preparatory to turning off into -the road which led to school, she stopped to allow a carriage to pass; -as it reached her a gentleman leaned towards her, and looking up she met -the eyes of the minister bent down upon her with an expression of the -deepest interest. - -She never saw that face again; but the remembrance of it went with her -through her whole life. - - - - -CHAPTER IX. - -THE LETTER-BAG. - - -Monday morning Marion sent a long letter to her mother, in which she -gave a full account of her interview with Aunt Bettie; sent the address, -and gave as accurate a description as she was able of Miss Jemima Dobbs -herself. - -She waited anxiously for some days for an answer to her letter, and -could hardly keep the thought of Aunt Bettie out of her head. Friday -afternoon, when the postman came, she was the first to get to the door -and take the bag from him. As she went with it into the library, the -girls all crowded round her in eager expectation, while she stifled her -own impatience and slowly unstrapped the bag, looking provokingly -unconcerned, and quite regardless of the smiling, eager faces that were -bent over her. - -"O Marion!" exclaimed Sarah Brown, "don't you see I'm dying to know if -there's a letter for me? Do hurry up." - -"She doesn't expect a letter herself, so she doesn't care how long she -keeps us waiting," sullenly remarked Mattie Denton; "she likes to -torment us." - -"You're mistaken there, Mattie," replied Marion, with a teasing twinkle -in her eyes, "for I do expect a letter; but I like 'linked sweetness, -long drawn out,' you know. Hands off, girls!" as she slowly opened the -mouth of the bag, and two or three arms were stretched out for the -letters that filled it to the top; "hands off, I'm postman to-day, and I -won't have my rights interfered with. Let me see,--number one; that's -for Julia Thayer. Julia! where are you? Here, Fan, run upstairs and take -it to her. Number two, Grace Minton. Here, Grace, virtue recognized and -patience rewarded; you held your tongue, and see how well I've served -you;" and Marion rattled on a string of nonsense as she took out the -letters and handed them to their various owners. - -"Two letters and a pamphlet for Miss Stiefbach; one for Miss Christine; -and whose is this great, fat one, I wonder, with a foreign stamp? Rachel -Drayton, I do declare!" and she was about to add, "I'm glad she's got -it;" but her habit of always treating Rachel with supreme indifference -was too strong upon her, and she only remarked, "Here, who will take -this letter up to Miss Drayton's room?" - -Georgie Graham came forward and offered her services. "I am going -upstairs," she said; "I'll take it up to her." - -Marion handed it to her without speaking, but elevated her eyebrows in a -very expressive way; but at that moment Rachel herself came into the -room, and Georgie stepped forward and gave her the letter, saying in her -sweetest tones:-- - -"Ah, Rachel! are you here? Here is a letter for you, and I could not -resist giving myself the pleasure of delivering it." - -Rachel took the letter with a delighted smile, and, thanking Georgie, -ran upstairs that she might read it undisturbed; in the surprise and -pleasure of receiving it she did not notice Georgie's unusually affable -manner, or the astonished glances and expressive looks which passed -between the other girls. - -Marion mentally remarked, "The two millions are taking effect; Georgie -has begun to toady already." - -"Well, Marion, haven't you got a letter for me?" asked little Rose May, -who had stood patiently by Marion's side, saying nothing, but looking -longingly into the bag, the bottom of which was fast becoming visible. - -"You poor little thing, how good you have been!" and Marion bent down -and kissed the expectant, little face. "I'll look over these in a jiffy, -and we'll see if there isn't one for you. Susie Brastow, May Fowler, -_Marion Berkley_, and--yes, here is yours, Rose,--Miss Rose May in great -black letters." - -"Oh, it's from father! I'm so glad!" and Rose seated herself on the -floor in the bow-window, and was soon oblivious to everything but the -contents of her letter. - -"Here, Grace!" exclaimed Marion, as Grace Minton passed on her way into -the drawing-room, "just take this and hang it on the nail; that's a good -girl;" and she held the letter-bag towards her. - -"No, I thank you," laughingly replied Grace; "you're very anxious to be -postmaster when it comes to taking out the letters, but the rest of the -duties you want to shirk on to some one else; but I won't submit, I'm -going to do my practising." - -"Oh, you unnatural, ungrateful girl!" replied Marion; "you have read -your letter, and are not even thankful to me for giving it to you, -almost the first one; and here I am perfectly wild to read mine. -However," she exclaimed with martyr-like air, "it's only another proof -of the total depravity of the human race." - -"No ingratitude, Marion; but you _know_ you always get some one to hang -the bag up for you after _you_ have had the fun of taking out the -letters, and I don't think it is fair." - -"Perfectly," replied Marion, as she hung the bag up in the vestibule, -ready for the girls to make their various deposits, "perfectly; equal -distribution of labor you know." - -"Equal humbug!" replied Grace, who could not help laughing. - -"O Grace!" called out Marion over the banisters, as Grace was about to -turn into the drawing-room, "couldn't you find out what Georgie Graham -is going to practise, for when she is in the school-room, playing -Chopin's Polonaise, and you are in the drawing-room running the -scales,--at least, to one who is not especially fond of 'close -harmony,'--the effect is not so charming as it might be." - -Grace, whose musical powers were not very extensive, made up a face, and -slammed the drawing-room door, and Marion rushed precipitately into her -own room. - -"Don't sit down on that bed!" cried Florence; "don't you see I've got on -the ruffled tidies?" - -"O you old maid!" retorted Marion; "you know there's no place I enjoy -sitting to read my letters so much as on the bed. What possessed you to -put on those tidies to-day?" - -"Why, Marion, we have been back more than seven weeks, and have not had -them on yet. Now just see how nice they look." - -"They do look lovely, that's a fact;" replied Marion. "There's one thing -your respected aunt knows how to do to perfection, and that is to quill -ruffles. On the whole I'm glad you put them on; it will cure me of my -horrible habit of bouncing down on the bed; consequently save me an -innumerable amount of lectures, besides making our room look very -distingué; three excellent reasons for keeping them on, so I'll content -myself with our old seat." - -"Well, Mab, do tell me what your mother writes." - -"Why, I actually haven't had time to read it yet; there were crowds of -letters, and I, like a little goose, took the bag. I do hope she has -some good news of Jemima;" and Marion opened the letter and read it -aloud:-- - - "BOSTON, Nov. 16th. - - "MY DEAR MARION:--I was delighted to receive your letter, but - particularly so when I read it and found how much my dear daughter - was interesting herself for the good of others. - - "I have just been obliged to change our parlor girl, Mary having - gone home to be with her invalid mother, and was preparing myself - for going the usual round of the intelligence offices, when your - letter came. The address which you sent (I presume it was not a - specimen of Miss Stiefbach's instruction) I took with me, for I had - never heard of Mrs. Benson's office, and doubted very much if I - should be able to find it. - - "As events proved, I was right, for after having crossed the city - in every direction,--in cars, coaches and on foot,--I found that - the place must be in Crawford Street, East Boston, instead of East - Crawford Street, Boston; so I went to the East Boston ferry, and as - good luck would have it, there was a directory in the office, which - I looked over, and discovered that there was such a street, but - could find no Mrs. Benson; however, as the directory was an old - one, I did not trust to it, but crossed the ferry. I found the - street without any difficulty; but when I came to No. 22, behold, - it was occupied by a barber! I must say, I was discouraged; but - upon going in and making inquiries, I found that Mrs. Benson had - formerly occupied the store, but, as the colored gentleman informed - me, 'she had removed to Boston, thinking that the crowded - metropolis would afford her a better opportunity of carrying on her - business, so as to render it more lucrative.' He was so extremely - affable and polite, that I almost felt it my duty to sit down and - have all my hair cut off; but I contented myself with buying a new - kind of crimping-pin, which he assured me was the same as those - used by Her Royal Highness the Empress Eugénie. Of course I - believed him, and the crimping-pins will be ready for you when you - come home at Christmas. But to return to my story; Mr. Ambrose St. - Leger (don't be frightened, Marion, that is only the barber) gave - me minute directions how to find Mrs. Benson's office, and I came - back to the city, thankful to have some clue, however indirect it - might be. I found the office without any difficulty, and Mrs. - Benson, being of course very anxious to work herself into the good - graces of a Boston lady, was extremely loquacious and obliging, - notwithstanding I was unable to suit myself there with a servant. - To make a long story short, she told me that she had received - several letters for a Jemima Dobbs, but as she had never had any - such girl in her office, after keeping them some time, she had - burned them up. - - "I must say I felt extremely disheartened, for I thought that if I - found the right woman she would certainly be able to tell me - something about Jemima Dobbs. She produced her books, and upon - looking over them I found the name of Arabella Dobbs. It seemed - ridiculous to think that could be the same person I wanted, but I - had an inward conviction that it was, and I have still; though - don't get elated yet. Mrs. Benson, who relies more upon her memory - than her book-keeping, says she is sure she got Arabella Dobbs a - place in East Boston several weeks ago, and she is going to write - to the lady, to find out if she is still there, and if she ever had - the name Jemima. I thanked her for the interest she had taken in - the case, and gave her my address, as she promised to send me word - the instant she received an answer to her letter. - - "And now, my dear, that is all I have to tell you. Very - unsatisfactory I know it is; but I feel quite sure that Arabella - Dobbs and Jemima Dobbs are one and the same person, for it is very - seldom that one comes across a Yankee girl in these offices, and - Dobbs is a name one would not be likely to find there twice. - - "You will be the best judge of what it is best to do about telling - Mrs. Dobbs what I have written to you; perhaps it will be better to - wait until you hear something more conclusive; but the suspense - must be terrible for her to bear, and it may be some consolation - for her to know there is some one interesting herself for her here. - - "I will write just as soon as I hear from Mrs. Benson; and now, my - darling, I really have not another moment to spare you. - - "Your father sends his usual stock of love, and ever so many - messages, which I could not remember if I tried; but they were all - very affectionate and so complimentary, that perhaps it is just as - well you should not hear them. - - "Charlie is asleep, and Fred has not yet come in from baseball; so - you must content yourself with a whole heart-full of love from your - fond - - "MAMMA." - -"Now, Flo, was there ever such a darling mamma as mine? I do think she -is just perfection,--going all over Boston, and East Boston too, and -never saying she was tired, or anything of the sort. I don't think there -are many women that would do that; do you, Flo?" - -"No, I don't believe there are many like her; I think she is the -loveliest woman I ever knew. But, Marion, I don't see as you have found -out much about poor Jemima after all." - -"No, there is not much real, satisfactory information, that's a fact; -but I _feel_ just as if that girl was the right one, and I know mamma -must feel pretty sure of it too, or she would have waited for the answer -to that letter before she wrote me. I shall go up to auntie's as soon as -I can; but I'm afraid it won't be before Saturday, for you know -to-morrow is English composition day, and next day French abstract, and -I was so careless about mine last time that I really think I ought to -lay myself out this week." - -"Indeed you ought, Marion," exclaimed Florence; "it's a shame that a -girl who can write such compositions as you can, when you have a mind -to, should hand in such a flat, silly thing as your last one was. I'm -not complimentary, I know, but it's the truth; you know yourself it was -horrible." - -"Yes, I know it was; and that is why I'm particularly anxious to have a -good one this time; don't you see?" - -"But don't you think you will be able to get up to Aunt Bettie's before -Saturday?" asked Florence; "it seems hard to keep her in suspense." - -"I really don't see how I can find time, and then I'm in hopes that if I -wait, by that time the answer to that woman's letter will have come, and -I shall hear something decisive from mamma." - -"Well, I think after all perhaps it will be better for you to wait until -then. But do you know it is after four o'clock, and the girls have all -got through practising? We ought to go down and try our duet." - -"Sure enough!" exclaimed Marion, springing up. "I don't know my part at -all; haven't looked at the last two pages, and Mr. Stein comes -to-morrow." - -"Oh, you read music so quickly, that you'll play your part better at -sight than I shall after I've practised it a week. I wish I could read -faster." - -"Don't wish it, Flo; it is very nice sometimes, but I don't think people -who read easily ever play readily without their notes. Now for you to -know a piece once is to know it always, with or without your notes, -while I have to fairly pound it into my head." - -"There is more truth than poetry in that, I know," replied Florence, as -the two went downstairs together, "for I have heard Aunt Sue complain of -the same thing; nevertheless I wish I wasn't so awfully slow." - -But we will leave them to their music, and musical discussions, and -hurry on with our story. - - - - -CHAPTER X. - -MARION'S RIDE. - - -Marion had no other letter from her mother during the week, and she was -so busy the whole time with her studies, music, etc., that it was not -until Saturday afternoon that she started on her errand. - -The weather had been unusually cold, and the previous night there had -been quite a heavy fall of snow, which, notwithstanding it was now only -the middle of November, still remained on the ground, and the thick, -gray sky gave promise that there was yet more to come; indeed before -Marion was fairly ready the flakes began to make their appearance, and -came lazily down, as if they did not all relish being called out so -early. - -But Marion did not mind wind or weather, and with her water-proof over -her thick sack, the hood drawn up over her head, and her feet encased in -rubbers, she set out for her long walk in the most excellent spirits. - -Florence went to the door with her and urged her to take an umbrella, -but Marion laughed at the idea, saying, "It was only a little flurry and -would be over in a minute;" but before she had reached Aunt Bettie's she -wished she had taken Florence's advice, for the snow came down thicker -and faster, beating against her face, and almost blinding her, so that -it was with great difficulty that she could see her way, and it was at -least an hour before she arrived at the farm-house. - -She went round to the back of the house, and without knocking lifted the -latch of the door, and entered a sort of shed or unplastered room, -which in summer was used as a kitchen, but which now served as a -wood-shed. - -"Aunt Bettie," cried Marion, "are you there?" and she stamped her feet, -and shook her clothes to get rid of the snow which covered her from head -to foot. - -"For the goodness' sakes, who's that?" exclaimed Aunt Bettie as she -jumped up from her seat by the kitchen fire, where she had fallen asleep -over her knitting, and hurried into the outer room. - -"Why, it's only me, auntie, to be sure," said Marion. - -"Marion Berkley! well, did I ever! but massy me," as she took hold of -Marion's water-proof, "you're as wet as a drownded rat; I'd no idee it -snowed so hard!" - -"Oh, it's only wet on the outside; _I'm_ not wet a bit;" and Marion took -off her water-proof and hung it over a chair to dry, pulling off her -rubbers and placing them on the floor beside it; "but why don't you ask -me what I came for, auntie?" - -"Wall, child, to tell the truth, I was so s'prised to see yer that I -didn't think anything 'bout what yer come for, and I aint going to ask -nuther, 'till you jist seat yourself in front o' that fire and toast -them feet o' yourn. I never see sich a child! To think o' your startin' -out sich weather's this to come and see me!" - -"It didn't snow much when I left school, and I hadn't the least idea it -would be such a storm; it's so early, you know. Florence wanted me to -bring an umbrella, but I wouldn't; I never will carry one if I can help -it." - -"Wall, it is a reg'lar out-and-outer," exclaimed Aunt Bettie, as she -stood peering through the window at the storm; "winter's sot in airly -this time, an' no mistake. I tell you what," as she came back to the -fire and seated herself beside Marion, "if you've come for anything -pertickler, I guess you better tell it right away, fur it won't do fur -you to stop long, it gathers so." - -"Well, I did come for something particular, auntie, but you must not -expect too much;" and Marion, who saw that Aunt Bettie was unusually -excited, notwithstanding she tried to appear composed, laid her hand on -her arm in a soothing, caressing way. "It is only a little bit of -comfort for you, not any real hope, except that you will perhaps feel -encouraged to know that you have friends in the city looking for your -daughter, and although I do not know anything certain about her, I think -mamma has got hold of some clue. But I'll read you what she says; you -know I promised to write her, and I did, and this is her answer." - -Aunt Bettie signed for Marion to go on; she was too much moved to speak, -although her emotion was caused quite as much by gratitude as anxiety, -for she had waited so long, and up to this time in such perfect silence, -that hope had almost died out within her, and she really did not expect -any joyful tidings. - -At the conclusion of the letter Marion looked up, almost dreading to -meet Aunt Bettie's glance, feeling sure that it must be one of -disappointment; but, contrary to her expectations, the good woman's face -was positively beaming through her tears, as she exclaimed in an almost -joyful tone:-- - -"The Lord bless you, Miss Marion, and your mother too, for you're a pair -of Christians if there ever was one! I'm jist sure that that Arabella -Dobbs is my Jemimy; an' I'll tell yer why I think so. Yer see the gal -that set my darter up to goin' to Boston used to visit some o' her -kinfolk down in the village, an' that's how she and Jemimy got -acquainted; she put it into my gal's head that _Jemimy_ was an awful -country kind of a name,--her own was Belindy,--and she always called -her Arabella, an' jist as like as not Jemimy was fool enough to go an' -give _that_ as her name. I declare she orter been ashamed of herself!" -and Mrs. Dobbs' indignation so far got the better of her grief, that if -Miss Jemimy had been there in the flesh it is quite probable she would -have received at least a good scolding. - -"Why, auntie, if that is so," replied Marion, "I've no doubt it's the -same girl; but how do you suppose she happened to go to East Boston -instead of Boston?" - -"Oh, like's not that Belindy Beers lived in East Boston, and jist said -Boston 'cause she thought 'twas smarter. I never could bear that gal -anyhow, an' if it hadn't been for her my darter'd been here now." - -"Well, you know I haven't really found her yet," said Marion, who was -afraid that Aunt Bettie's ire had caused her to lose sight of that fact; -"we only have some _probability_ of finding out where she is." - -"I know, dear, I know all that, but I do feel better; it does seem as if -there couldn't be two sich good creeturs as you an' your mother doin' -your best to help me, and no good to come of it. 'T any rate I aint -goin' to despond any more; it's like flyin' in the face o' Providence, -and until I hear wus news I shall jist hope for the best." - -"Aunt Bettie, I'm glad enough to hear you say so; I _can't_ help feeling -very hopeful myself, and I'm glad you can feel the same." - -"Well, child, I think it's the right way arter all; 'taint my nater -usually to be very despondent, but somehow I got entirely discouraged; -but _I should_ be an ungrateful woman enough if I didn't thank you over -and over again. I can't speak it all, but I feel it jist the same." - -"Indeed, auntie, it is not me, but mamma, that you must thank. I have -done nothing but write to her, and she has done all the work." - -"Yes, and how would she have known it, if it hadn't been for you? I -thank her, the Lord knows I do, from the bottom of my heart, but it's -all owin' to you, child, nevertheless. If you hadn't had quick eyes to -see into my troubles, and a warm heart to put you up to helpin' me, what -would she a' known about it? No, no, dear, you're the fust one I owe my -thanks to, and whether I ever find Jemimy again or not, I shall always -love you, and bless you for what you've done for me so long's I live." - -And Marion knew that Aunt Bettie meant every word she said, and she did -not again try to alter her opinion. It was pleasant indeed to know that -there was any one who could have such a high regard for her; and with a -warmth about her heart which it was pleasant to feel, and a light in her -eyes which it would certainly have done any one good to see, she sat -talking with Mrs. Dobbs, both of them oblivious to the fact that time -was fast slipping away, until, upon looking up, Marion was astonished to -see that it was long after four o'clock. - -"Why, auntie!" she exclaimed, "see how dark it is growing; we've been -talking nearly an hour. I must hurry off this minute, or I shall be -frightened to death before I get home." - -"Why, sure enough, it's most five o'clock! I'd no idee of it. But massy -sakes!" cried Aunt Bettie as she went to the window, "jest come here and -look out! Why, you can't walk home in this snow nohow; why, it's up to -your ankles! I never see snow gather so quick in my life." - -Marion went to the window, and took a survey of the scene. It certainly -did not look very promising. The snow had gathered so rapidly that the -roads were covered several inches deep, and darkness appeared to be fast -approaching. Marion looked decidedly troubled; but there was no help for -it; go she must; for she knew that Miss Stiefbach would be very much -worried about her; so putting on as good a face as possible she said:-- - -"Well, auntie, I haven't a moment to spare; it is really quite dark, and -it will take me longer to go than it did to come;" and Marion was -hurrying out of the room to get her water-proof when Aunt Bettie caught -hold of her:-- - -"You jest set down in that cheer, and don't you stir out of it till I -tell yer you may! Do you s'pose I'm goin' to send you home afoot when -it's sich walkin's this? No; not if my name's Sarey Ann Dobbs. You jest -wait, and you shall have one sleigh-ride this year if you don't ever get -another." - -"Aunt Bettie, what do you mean?" exclaimed Marion. - -"You jest wait, and you'll see what I mean." Auntie went into the outer -room, and opening the door shouted at the very top of her lungs in a -shrill, high key: "Jabe! Jabe Dobbs, be you there?" but Jabe did not -respond to the maternal call. "Jabe! Ja-a-a-be!" Then in an undertone, -"Plague take that boy! he's the laziest creetur I ever did see!" - -Presently there came a reply from one of the outside sheds in a slow, -drawling voice; very much as if the owner of it had heard the first -summons, but was not in a great hurry to heed it:-- - -"H-e-r-e!" - -"Wall, come in this minit, and don't keep me standin' here holdin' this -door open any longer!" - -In a few moments, but in what seemed to Marion almost an eternity, heavy -steps were heard on the flagstone, and directly after, a youth of about -sixteen made his appearance in the door-way, and slowly knocking the -snow off his boots, asked in the same drawling tone:-- - -"What do yer want?" - -"You come inside, and I'll tell yer," replied his mother. - -"Well, yer might o'--" but catching sight of Marion his head went down, -and Jabe stood sheepishly twirling his hat in his hands, shuffling from -one foot to the other, apparently too bashful for speech. - -"Don't stan' there twirlin' yer hat, and lookin' like a great idiot, but -jest step round and be spry. Did you get down the big sleigh t'other day -when I told yer to?" - -Jabe nodded assent. - -"Well, it's a wonder! Now you go out and tackle up Shadrack as quick as -ever you can, and hev him round to the door, less'n no time; no -shillyshallyin!" - -"What shall I put him into arter I get him tackled?" asked the hopeful -youth, with a momentary glance at Marion from under his shaggy eyebrows. - -"Why, put him into the sleigh, to be sure; what'd you s'pose?" - -"Well, you didn't tell me, an' I didn't know but p'r'aps she was goin' -to ride him," replied Jabe, with another glance at Marion, which almost -upset her gravity. - -"You didn't think any such a thing, and you know you didn't! You're to -drive Miss Marion back to school, and you jest hurry out; and don't let -the grass grow under yer feet either!" - -"Aint much danger," replied Jabe, as he shuffled off; "it's most through -sproutin' fur this year, and 'taint quite ready fur next." - -"Now, Miss Marion, did you _ever_ see sech a boy as that?" exclaimed -Aunt Bettie in righteous indignation; "he worries my life out of me!" - -"What is the matter with him?" asked Marion, who was intensely amused at -the ridiculous-looking object she had just seen, and his comical, -awkward ways; "there doesn't seem to be anything very bad about him." - -"Bad! of course there isn't, but he _is_ so powerful slow! There's no -doin' nothin' with him; he's too lazy to work, and he's too lazy to -study. But there's one thing, he's honest as he ken be, and I rally do -think he does set consid'rable store by me; though he _does_ try my -patience awfully." - -"Of course he thinks a great deal of you," replied Marion; "he's just at -a lazy age now. I dare say he'll get over it, and prove a great comfort -to you one of these days." - -"Oh, he's a comfort now, in a sort of a way. He's stiddy enough; but -laws! he's too lazy to be anything else." - -"He'll wake up yet, auntie, see if he doesn't. There's a twinkle in his -eyes that shows he's nobody's fool." - -"Oh, I never supposed he was quite as bad's that; but he haint found his -niche yet; when he does I s'pose he'll fit into it as tight as a -pertater does its skin." - -In much shorter time than Marion had expected, judging from what she had -seen of Jabe's activity, the jingle of bells was heard, and directly -after, the musical voice of Mrs. Dobbs' young hopeful called out:-- - -"I'm ready if you be!" - -Aunt Bettie opened the door, her face positively radiant with smiles and -the pleasure she felt at being able to give Marion a ride. - -As Marion's eyes beheld the equipage that stood ready for her use, it -must be confessed that her first sensation was anything but agreeable. -In common with most girls of her age, and I might say with girls -considerably older than herself, she had a great admiration for handsome -horses, elegant carriages, and a driver in keeping with the rest of the -establishment. - -Certainly no one could say, however, that her driver was not perfectly -in keeping with the establishment of which he evidently felt extremely -proud; for he sat on the front seat, holding the reins in both hands, as -if poor Shadrack was a four-in-hand team, or at least a tandem with a -very refractory leader. - -The sleigh itself was of such peculiar structure, that it would have -been almost impossible to have decided at what ancient period it must -have been made. In shape, it most resembled that elegant vehicle -commonly known as a "pung," excepting that it boasted of two seats, and -a back that nearly reached the top of Marion's head. Its color was a -beautiful pea-green, ornamented with various scrolls and devices in -bright yellow, which might have been a combination of the paternal and -maternal crests of Jabe's ancestors, but looked wonderfully like -squash-vines. - -Around old Shadrack's neck was hung a string of iron bells about the -size of small cannon-balls, which jingled most melodiously every time he -moved. But Marion's good sense would not allow her to yield to any -feeling of mortification which she might feel at the idea of appearing -at school in such a turn-out. She only thought of Aunt Bettie's kindness -in ordering out her old horse on such an unprecedented occasion; and -thanking her warmly and sincerely for her thoughtfulness, she stepped -into the sleigh and was driven off by Jabe, who flourished the whip over -Shadrack's ears, quite regardless of his mother's warning, "not to let -the critter trot fast, 'cause 'twas heavy haulin'; the snow was so -soggy." - -For some time they jogged along, the silence only broken by the -monotonous jingle of the bells. It had stopped snowing, and the sky was -quite bright in the west, making it much lighter than it was earlier in -the afternoon; touching up the trees with a rosy light, and casting a -soft glow on the fields, as they passed along. - -Marion forgot everything else in the pleasure of watching the fading -light, and was quite oblivious to the existence of Jabe, until she was -roused from her silent observations by a mild "ger-lang!" which reminded -her that it certainly was her duty to make herself agreeable to her -escort. - -She hardly knew what to say to him, but she ventured to remark "that the -horse did not look as if he was worked very hard." - -"Worked hard!" exclaimed Jabe. "Lord, he don't know what work is! I just -wish I had as easy a time as Shadrack." - -"What in the world did you name him Shadrack for?" exclaimed Marion. - -"Me!" replied Jabe, turning round slowly and looking at Marion out of -the corner of his eye, "'twant none o' my doin's, 'twas father's; he -allus liked something different from anybody else, and that time I think -he hit it." - -"Yes, I think he did," replied Marion, smiling in spite of herself; then -in a soberer tone she asked, "Do you remember your father, Jabe?" - -"No, he died 'fore I was two years old." - -"Don't you wish he could have lived?" - -"Well now, that depends on circumstances," replied Jabe in a -deliberating tone; "if he was such a fellow for work as the marm, I -can't say as I _should_ be very particular 'bout havin' him round." - -"Why, Jabe Dobbs!" exclaimed Marion, striving to conceal her laughter, -"aren't you ashamed of yourself? I dare say it would be better for you, -if your mother made you work a great deal harder than she does." - -"O Lord! Miss Marion!" cried Jabe, in the most horrified tone, but with -a twinkle in his eyes which Marion fully appreciated; "if she did I -couldn't live nohow. You see, work and I don't hitch hosses; we weren't -meant to go 'longside the same pole; and if one of us has got to stan' -still, I think it might's well be me, and let _work_ go." - -At this Marion laughed outright, but not a muscle of his face did Jabe -move, and if it had not been for that sly twinkle in his eye when he -lifted it to Marion's face one would have thought he was solving some -weighty problem. - -He sat round sideways, one leg on the seat, and the reins now hanging -loosely in his hands, as Shadrack jogged lazily on, while he was -evidently highly pleased and flattered by Marion's attention. - -"Well, Jabe," continued Marion, "perhaps, if you don't like to work, you -like to study. Do you ever go to school?" - -"I went last winter by spells, an' I s'pose I shall go this winter too." - -"Do you like it?" asked Marion; "what do you like best,--spelling?" - -"Spelling," repeated Jabe, in a ruminating tone,--"spelling, no, I don't -like it much, that is, I don't like it the way they larn you down there. -I think p'r'aps if they'd let a feller follow his own fashion I might -like it; but they put in so many letters that there aint no kind o' -sense in havin', that it jest confuses me, an' so I ginerally spells -accordin' to fancy." - -"O Jabe!" replied Marion, "that will never do in the world; but perhaps -you like arithmetic better." - -"'Rithmetic!" and Jabe fairly dropped the reins and struck an emphatic -blow on his knee, as he exclaimed again: "'rithmetic! I tell you _there_ -you got me. If there is anything I do hate on the face o' this airth, -it's 'rithmetic! Spellin's bad enough, but 'rithmetic's wus. When you -set me to doin' a sum it's jest like the feller that had to go through -the drill for the whole regiment; he got on fust-rate till they told him -to go form a holler-square; but he said _that_ 'wrenched him awfully.'" - -"O Jabe! Jabe!" cried Marion, now fairly convulsed with laughter, "I am -afraid you will never make much of a scholar anyway. But, indeed, you -ought to try and do better; just think what a comfort you might be to -your mother, if you would only----But stop the horse, stop the horse a -minute; I've got an idea!" - -Jabe drew up the reins with a sudden jerk, and looked at Marion as if -she had scattered every idea he ever possessed. - -"You jump out!" she exclaimed; "no, you needn't do that; just help me -over on to the front seat, and then you climb on to the back. I'm going -to drive up to school in style." - -Jabe dropped the reins, and did as he was told, with a very bewildered -expression on his great, round face, as he looked at Marion very much as -if he doubted her sanity; but she went on talking very fast as she -tucked in the almost worn-out robe, and took the reins in her hands. - -"Don't you see, we're almost to the school, and everybody will be on the -lookout for me; so I want to dash up to the door in very stunning -fashion. Now sit up straight; fold your arms; hold your head -up;--so,--that's it; you're my tiger; that means the groom, boy, you -know, who sits behind when the gentleman drives. Now, when I stop the -horse, you jump out just as quick as ever you can and rush to his head, -as if you thought he wouldn't stand still long enough for me to get -out. Do you understand?" - -"Yes," replied Jabe, who sat as straight as a ramrod, his eyes twinkling -under his bushy, fur cap, and his mouth stretched from ear to ear. If he -didn't love work, he certainly did a good joke, and he entered fully -into the spirit of the thing. - -"Well, now, keep sober, and don't forget what I told you." - -Marion braced her feet against the dasher; threw back her shoulders; -extended her arms at full length, and gave poor old Shadrack such a -tremendous "cut" with the whip that he sprang forward as if forty fiends -were after him; but Marion was used to driving, and only flourished the -old wooden-handled ox-whip, and urged him on the faster. - -Everything happened precisely as Marion wished. Of course Miss Stiefbach -had become considerably alarmed at her long absence, and every one had -come into the front of the house, and all were looking out for her, -their faces pressed up against the window-panes as they crowded -together. - -Just as Marion came in sight some one opened the front door; this was -what she wanted. Giving the whip an extra flourish, and saying in an -undertone to Jabe, "Be ready," she dashed up to the gate, and suddenly -drew the reins up short. Poor Shadrack, being thus brought to a very -unexpected stand-still, threw his head up in the air, and planted his -fore feet straight out in front of him, in a most warlike attitude. -Almost before they stopped Jabe sprang out and grasped the poor panting -beast by the head, as Marion threw the reins down, and stepping to the -ground exclaimed in a pompous tone, loud enough to be heard by those -standing in the door-way, "Rub him down well, Thomas, and give him an -extra measure of oats;" then, as she turned into the gate, "and Thomas, -have the tandem at the door in the cutter, to-morrow-morning at ten." - -Jabe, not to be outdone, touched his hat, sprang on to the seat, and -whisked Shadrack round and up the road, at a pace that would have made -his mother hold up her hands in holy horror. - -"Why, Marion Berkley, where _have_ you been?" exclaimed a chorus of -voices, Miss Stiefbach's actually among the number. - -"I've been taking an airing on the Western Avenue. How do you like my -turn-out? Neat but not gaudy, isn't it?" - -"Well, Marion, I don't know what you will do next," said Miss Christine; -"but where have you really been?" - -"Marion, I must ask you to give a strict account of yourself," said Miss -Stiefbach, who, now that she had recovered from her unusual surprise and -alarm, was her own stately self again. Whereupon Marion gave a brief and -satisfactory history of her afternoon's expedition, embellishing it with -sundry remarks and expressions of her own, which rendered it highly -entertaining to her younger hearers; and I might say to all but Miss -Stiefbach, for Miss Christine joined heartily in the general laugh at -Marion's first sleigh-ride of the season. - - - - -CHAPTER XI. - -LA SOIRÉE MUSICALE. - - -"Girls! what do you think's up?" exclaimed Sarah Brown, as she bounced -into the library one afternoon. "Miss Stiefbach and Mr. Stein have just -been having a long confab in the 'secret-chamber,' and they came out -just as I passed the door, and I heard Miss 'Stiffy' say, 'Yes, I knew -you would prefer Friday, so I ventured to invite them without seeing you -again; as yet the young ladies know nothing about it!' Now _I_ should -like to knew what in the world _it_ is." - -"Well, so should I!" exclaimed Julia Thayer. "What can she mean; -'invited them,' and 'the young ladies know nothing about it.' She must -be going to give a party." - -"Yes, that's it, you may be sure," said Marion; "she's going to give a -party, and she and Mr. Stein are going to lead the German. Won't they -look well dancing the 'deux-temps' together?" - -"O Marion, how perfectly ridiculous!" laughed Florence. "You know she -can't be going to have a party; but what can it mean?" - -"Are you sure you heard right, Sallie?" asked Grace Minton. "Why didn't -you break your shoe-string and stop to tie it up; or do something or -other to keep you there long enough to get something a little more -satisfactory?" - -"Why, I couldn't hang round the hall listening to what they said, could -I? But I know there is to be something going on here Friday; see if -there isn't." - -"Yes, and Miss Stiefbach isn't going to say anything about it to us -until the last moment, because she thinks our heads will be full of it," -ejaculated Marion. "I've a great mind to ask her myself." - -"If I was in the habit of betting, I would bet you anything that I know -all about it," remarked Georgie Graham, who had kept silent while the -other girls were making their comments. - -"Oh, what is it?" asked Marion; "my principles and my purse too will -stand a pound of candy." - -"And I another," cried Sarah. - -"Not so fast," replied Georgie. "I said _if_ I was in the habit of -betting, but I never bet; it is very unladylike." - -"Granted!" cried Marion; "but please reserve your lecture for another -time, and out with your secret." - -"I really don't know as I _ought_ to tell," said Georgie, as she counted -the stitches on her canvas in a provokingly cool way. "I knew it by -accident, and that is the reason I haven't spoken of it before." - -"Oh, if you got possession of it in the same way you have of several -other secrets here, I don't blame you for not wanting to tell of it," -retorted Sarah. - -"I don't know what you mean to insinuate, Sarah; but I heard of this -entirely by accident two weeks ago to-morrow," replied Georgie in the -same unmoved tone. "I was in the anteroom looking over an exercise which -monsieur wanted me to correct, when I heard Mr. Stein and Miss Stiefbach -talking together in very low tones in the school-room. Of course it did -not occur to me that there could be anything private in what they were -saying, or I should have let them know I was there"--("Of course," -laconically remarked Marion)--"but when they had got through their -conversation Miss Stiefbach said, 'We will say nothing about it to any -one, as I wish it should remain a secret for the present;'--so I said -nothing." - -"Well, don't you _intend_ to say anything?" cried Sarah Brown; "now that -we know there is something going on, don't you intend to tell us what it -is?" - -"I really don't think it would be very honorable in me," rejoined -Georgie, thoroughly enjoying her important position. - -"Don't trouble her, Sarah; we all know what her conscientious scruples -are. It would be a pity to have them disturbed," remarked Marion in a -cutting, sarcastic tone. "I can tell you what it all means in five -seconds." - -"What is it?--tell us, do!" cried all, with the exception of Georgie. - -"Miss Stiefbach intends to have some sort of a musical spread next -Friday, and we girls have got to play." - -"How did you know it?" exclaimed Georgie, thoroughly off her guard. - -"I didn't take your method of finding it out, you may be sure," replied -Marion. "I never heard a word about it before this afternoon; but if you -put two and two together they generally make four, that's all." - -"What do you mean by putting 'two and two together'?" impatiently asked -Julia Thayer. - -"Why, just this!" replied Marion. "Does Mr. Stein have an earthly thing -to do with this school except to give us music-lessons? and is there -anything that Miss Stiefbach could be getting up with him, that -concerned the 'young ladies' that didn't have something to do with our -music? and would she be inviting people here when it was convenient to -_him_ if it wasn't that they are going to give a musicale, and he is -going to make us play? So there you've got the whole matter; I don't -think it required much brilliancy to see that." - -"Well, I _never_ should have thought of it!" exclaimed Sarah. - -"Nor I either," said Florence. "But don't you think it is awfully mean -not to have let us known anything about it beforehand, so that we might -have had time to practise?" - -"I presume Mr. Stein has been secretly drilling us for it this long -time, though we poor, unconscious victims didn't suspect it," replied -Marion. "But there's Georgie, she has the advantage of us; she has -probably decided what she is going to play, and has learned it -perfectly." But there was no reply from Georgie as she had discreetly -left the room. - -"Oh, isn't she sly?" exclaimed Grace Minton. - -"Sly! sly isn't the word for it," put in Sarah Brown in her most -energetic tones; "she ought to have been named Foxy Graham!" - -"Well, there's one thing certain," said Grace Minton, "I shan't have to -play; I thank my stars for that!" - -"I wonder who will play," said Florence. "Georgie Graham of course; -Julia; and you Mab; and I rather guess I shall have to. Well, I don't -much care, I don't believe there will be many here, and I think it's -time I learned to play before strangers." - -"I don't know how I shall ever get on in the world," cried Marion in a -despairing tone; "that is about the only thing I never could do." - -"And I think it is so strange," remarked Julia Thayer; "for you see so -much company at home, and always seem so self-possessed wherever you -are, that it does seem queer that you are afraid to play before people." - -"I know it. I dare say every one thinks it is all affectation," replied -Marion, "for I know you all think I've got assurance enough to do most -anything; but it is the honest truth, that I'm frightened half to death -whenever I sit down to play to any one; and if I get along well at this -affair of Miss Stiefbach's, it will be nothing but my _will_ that -carries me through." - -"So you mean to play, do you?" asked Georgie Graham, who at this -juncture suddenly made her appearance in the room. - -"Yes, I mean to play if I'm asked, and I suppose I shall be, because I -think I ought. I am determined to overcome this ridiculous nervousness, -even if it is at the expense of fifty mortifying failures before I do -it; so, girls, look out and prepare yourselves for a public disgrace; -for of _course_ there is not one of you who would not take it quite to -heart if I should break down." - -"Well," replied Sarah Brown in the most energetic tone (Sarah almost -always spoke in italics), "I know I for one should feel dreadfully; -though of _course_ I can't answer for some of the rest of us;" and she -cast a meaning glance at Georgie. - -"I'm sure, Marion, I _hope_ you won't fail," said Georgie as she picked -up her work, her ostensible reason for coming back, and left the room. - -"I know one thing," exclaimed Sarah; "if that girl kept a list of all -the lies she tells in a week, white and black; she'd use up all the -letter-paper there is in the town." - -"O Sallie!" laughed Florence, "you're too severe. I'm afraid you don't -entertain a Christian spirit towards Georgie." - -"I don't, and I don't pretend to!" answered Sarah. "I never did like -her, and I never shall; she's always saying something to aggravate me." - -"But she didn't say anything to you then," said Julia Thayer, with a -mischievous twinkle in her eyes; "she was only _hoping_ that Marion -would not break down." - -"Yes, and a lot she hoped it!" excitedly replied Sarah; "there's -nothing would suit her better than to have Mab make a regular failure of -it; and I just wanted to let her know I thought so." - -"Now, Sarah," said Marion, in a half-laughing, half-serious tone, "don't -you trouble yourself to fight my battles. I think I am quite equal to it -myself; besides, you'll have your hands full to look after your own -squabbles." - -"There's ingratitude for you!" said Grace Minton. "If I were you, -Sallie, I never would trouble myself about her again; she doesn't -deserve such a champion." - -"Oh, I don't mind what she says," replied Sarah, good-naturedly; "she -can't make me hold my tongue, and I shall say just what I've a mind to, -to that Georgie Graham, so long as she keeps on tormenting me." - -That evening the whole school was informed that on the following Friday -Miss Stiefbach was to give a soirée musicale, at which ten of the -scholars were to perform. - -These were Marion Berkley, Florence Stevenson, Alice Howard, Mattie -Denton, Julia Thayer, Georgie Graham, Susie Snelling, Kate Brastow, and, -to the surprise of every one, little Rose May and Fannie Thayer. - -Of course nothing was talked of that week out of study hours, but the -soirée, and great indignation was expressed by most of the performers -that they had not been allowed more time to prepare themselves. But Mr. -Stein knew what he was about; he wished the musicale to be as much as -was possible an impromptu affair, as it was not his idea to make an -exhibition of the skill of his pupils, but to accustom them to play with -ease and self-possession before strangers. He gave his pupils a list of -their names in the order in which they were to play, selected from the -music belonging to each girl several pieces, from which she was to -choose one, exercising her own taste and judgment; decided himself upon -the duets he wished performed, and then informed them that his part in -the matter was ended; from that moment he was to be nothing but a -spectator. - -"But, Mr. Stein," exclaimed one, "just _please_ tell me, can I play this -well enough?" and then from a second, "O Mr. Stein, _would_ you play -this?" and "Oh, I never can play _any_ of these before any one!" from a -third, and many other exclamations and lamentations were poured upon -him; but he only held up his hands in a deprecating way. "Now, young -ladies, do not, do not, I beg of you, ask me another question! I -consider that you know any one of the pieces which I have laid aside for -you to choose from sufficiently well to play anywhere; it only remains -for you to decide which one you will play. Now, good-by until Friday; -you will not see me until then, when I shall not come as your teacher, -but as an invited guest, to have my ears delighted with the sweet sounds -which I shall expect to hear from that instrument;" and with a profound -bow the old German made his exit. - -But, notwithstanding his apparent unconcern as to the result of this new -whim of his, Mr. Stein was really quite excited about it; several of his -pupils at Miss Stiefbach's he considered were quite remarkable for their -age, and he looked forward to the coming musicale with a feeling of -pride not unmixed with fear, lest some of his favorites should fail to -do themselves credit. - -Marion had noticed that for two weeks before the secret was generally -known Georgie Graham had practised Chopin's Polonaise in A, every day, -but since the whole school had been informed of the musicale she had -only heard her play it twice. This induced her to think that Georgie, -taking advantage of the knowledge which she had surreptitiously gained, -had chosen that piece for Friday night, and having nearly perfected -herself in it, was avoiding practising it, so that none of the girls -might suspect what she intended to play. - -Marion would not have been likely to have thought of this, if she had -not taken the Polonaise about the same time that Georgie had, and had -often remarked that she thought Georgie played it better than anything -else, and very much better than she did herself. Remembering this, and -knowing that Georgie would be particularly anxious to excel her in the -eyes of the whole school, and before invited guests, she felt perfectly -confident that Chopin's Polonaise was the piece she had chosen. - -Now Georgie had certainly done everything she could to make Marion -thoroughly uncomfortable ever since they had been back at school, and -Marion had been actually longing for an opportunity to revenge herself. -Here was the opportunity. The soirée was to open with a duet by Mattie -Denton and Julia Thayer; then a solo by Florence, followed by a song -from Alice Howard; then a piano solo from Marion, and after her Georgie -Graham. This precedence over Georgie gave Marion the opportunity which -she could not resist. She would play the Polonaise herself, thus forcing -Georgie to choose another piece almost without a moment's notice. - -Do not despise her, my friends; she was very much like other girls, and -had a natural desire to punish Georgie for all the mean, petty -annoyances to which she had been subjected at her hands. A very wrong -desire, I grant you, and one for which she blamed herself very much; but -she had it, and consequently as a faithful chronicler I must write it. - -But do not for a moment suppose that she intended publicly to disgrace -her school-mate; nothing of the kind; she knew that Georgie was -perfectly capable, and perfectly willing to play any of her music before -no matter how many strangers. She only wanted to provoke her, and spoil -her nicely arranged plan of playing a very difficult and very brilliant -piece of music, better than any of the other girls would be able to -play, as they had not had the advantages of practising expressly for the -occasion which she had taken. She was not at all jealous of Georgie, for -although they were generally considered the rival pianists of the -establishment, the rivalry was entirely on Georgie's side. - -Many might say that they played equally well, but the few who truly -loved music for its own sake missed something in Georgie's playing which -they found in Marion's. - -The secret was this: Georgie played from a love of the admiration and -praise she received, and from an ambitious resolution she had made when -a little child, that no one she knew should play better than she did -herself. Consequently every one was struck with the accuracy and -rapidity of her execution, and the brilliancy of her touch in all -difficult music; but in more quiet pieces,--pieces that required that -the soul of the performer should thrill through every chord, and vibrate -with every touch of the piano, that the full depth and beauty of their -perfect harmony might be conveyed to the listener's ear,--then it was -that Georgie's playing seemed cold and mechanical, while that of Marion -seemed an interpretation of the purest ideas of the composer. - -Friday afternoon came at last. Throughout the house the two pianos had -been going at almost every hour in the day; early and late, before -breakfast and after supper, might be heard duets, solos, and songs, -until those scholars who were not to perform at the musical soirée -declared themselves thoroughly disgusted with the whole affair, and -hoped Miss Stiefbach would never have another. - -This afternoon, however, no one was allowed to go near the piano, and -every girl was obliged to learn her lessons for Monday, and take her -usual amount of exercise, notwithstanding that they had all begged and -entreated to be permitted to give their last moments to music. Miss -Stiefbach was obdurate and held her ground, for she knew the girls were -all very much excited, and that nothing but a strict attention to other -things would sufficiently calm them to enable them to play at all, that -night. - -But just before tea excitement reigned supreme. To be sure it was -divided and subdivided by being confined to the various rooms where the -scholars were dressing themselves for the evening; still, if an entire -stranger had walked through the lower part of the house where everything -was quiet, and no one was to be seen except Miss Christine, who was -arranging some beautiful flowers that had mysteriously made their -appearance that afternoon, he would have felt perfectly sure that some -event of an unusual and highly interesting nature was about to take -place. As a rule all the scholars dressed very plainly, for Miss -Stiefbach's motto regarding dress which she endeavored to instill into -the youthful minds about her was, "Neatness, not display." - -But notwithstanding the fact that ordinarily all finery was eschewed, -almost every girl had stowed away in her trunk at least one dress a -little more elaborate than the rest of her wardrobe; a set of pretty -jewelry, or handsome ribbons, "in case anything should happen;" and now -something was actually going to happen; the dull routine of school-life -was to be broken in upon, and consequently the little vanities of this -world would have a chance to air themselves. - -"To friz, or not to friz! that is the question!" exclaimed Marion, as -she turned from her looking-glass and appealed to Florence, who was -buttoning her best-fitting cloth boots. - -"Why, friz of course; you know it's the most becoming." - -"Oh, I know that well enough; but you see I was too sleepy to put it up -last night, and now I shall have to do it with hot slate-pencil, and -it's the ruination of the hair." - -"I guess it won't hurt it for just this once, and this is certainly a -great occasion," answered Florence; "what are you going to wear on -it,--cherry?" - -"Oh, no! that lovely gold band you gave me; it just suits my dress, and -lights up beautifully. I like to wear only one color when I can." - -"That is all very well for you to say (these boots are _rayther_ snug), -because you're a blonde, and look well in plain colors; but I'm such a -darkey that nothing but red and yellow suits me," said Florence. - -"So much the better. I don't think there is anything handsomer than a -rich orange or a bright scarlet, and sometimes a little of both is just -the thing. There! how does that look?" continued Marion, as she put the -last hair-pin in her back braids, gave an extra touch to the gleaming -waves of her front hair, and straightened the narrow gold satin band -which ran through them. - -"Perfectly lovely!" enthusiastically cried Florence; "you've got it just -high enough without being a bit too high, and those crimps are heavenly! -Now put on your dress; I want to see the whole effect before I get -myself up." - -"I don't think it is quite long enough, do you?" asked Marion, in a -doubtful tone, as she shook out the folds of a rich Irish poplin, and -threw it over her head; "it is so awfully hard to get a dress just -the right length, when you are not old enough for a train, and too old -to have it up to your knees! But there! how's that?" and she turned for -her friend's final verdict. - -"Lovely! just lovely! That is the prettiest shade of green I _ever_ saw; -and _such_ a poplin! Where did you get it?" - -"Uncle George brought it to me from Ireland; wasn't it good of him? But -come, Florence, you really must hurry; I expect the tea-bell will ring -any minute; it's a blessed thing Miss Stiefbach put tea off half an -hour, or we should never have been dressed beforehand. O Flo! what a -stunning dress! I never saw it before." - -"_Do_ you like it? I didn't show it to you, for I was afraid you would -think it was terribly niggery; but I saw it in Chandler's window, and -just walked in and bought it without saying boo to auntie, and it really -is quite becoming to me, I'm so black." - -"Becoming! I should think it was; I never saw you look so well in -anything in your life. If the thing had been made for you it couldn't -have suited your style better, and that Roman-gold jewelry is just right -for it; in fact, as mademoiselle used to say, you are decidedly 'comme -il faut.'" - -The two girls certainly made a charming picture as they stood together, -each interested and eager that the other should look her best. - -Marion's beautiful hair fell slightly over her forehead in soft, curling -waves, seeming even lighter and brighter than ever, and making the -contrast with her dark eyes and eyebrows all the more marked. Her fair -skin and glowing cheeks were set off to advantage by the rich green -dress she wore, which, though simply trimmed and in keeping with her -years, was very handsome. - -It would have been hard to choose between the two, for each in her own -style was certainly very lovely. - -Florence's hair was drawn off from her low, broad forehead, as she -always wore it, and she had nothing on it but a tiny gilt band, like a -golden thread encircling her head; which, though she did not know it, -was a perfect Clytie in contour. Her dress was a French poplin, the -ground a rich blue, while all over it, at regular intervals, were -embroidered singularly odd-shaped figures in the brightest-colored -silks, giving it a peculiar, piquante appearance, and perfectly suiting -the wearer's brunette beauty. - -Perhaps I have given too much time and space to dress; but parents and -guardians may skip the above passage, as it is written expressly for -young girls, who, I know from personal experience, are very naturally -interested in such matters. - -The hour at last arrived. The grand-piano stood between the -folding-doors which separated the two large parlors; in the back room -was Miss Christine, surrounded by all the school, and in the front sat -Miss Stiefbach and the invited guests, about twenty in number, all of -them refined, cultivated persons, many of them quite severe musical -critics. - -Mr. Stein fluttered from one room to the other, trying hard to appear -unconcerned; but I doubt if any of his pupils were in a greater state of -excitement than he. It had been an undecided question whether or no he -should stand by the piano and turn over the music; but the majority -concluded that he would only make them more nervous, so he retired to -the back of the front parlor, in a position where he could command a -view of every note in the key-board. - -M. Béranger made his appearance at an early hour, and declared his -intention of sitting with Miss Christine, to help her preserve order. -She remonstrated with him, telling him he could hear the music to much -better advantage in the other room; but nevertheless, when the company -was all seated, and silence reigned supreme preparatory to the opening -duet, M. Béranger quietly ensconced himself in the back parlor. - -The fatal moment had at last arrived; the musicale was about to -commence. - -Marion sat through the first duet, trying hard not to think of herself, -and to listen to the music; but she heard nothing but a confusion of -sounds, the beating of her own heart sounding loudest of all. Florence's -piece she did enjoy, and joined heartily in the applause which followed -its 'finale,' and gave her friend's hand a congratulatory squeeze, as -she came back to the seat beside her. But in a very few moments Alice -Howard's song was ended, and as the murmurs of approbation died away, -Marion took her seat at the piano. - -To all outward appearance she was calm and self-possessed, and with a -strong effort she summoned her almost indomitable will to her aid and -struck the first chords clearly and decisively. Through the first two -pages everything went well; but just as she was about to turn over her -music, she missed one or two notes with her left hand. No one who was -not perfectly familiar with every bar of the music would have noticed -the omission; but to Marion it seemed as if she had made a terrible -discord. Her forced composure left her, and all her nervousness came -back again; she turned over hastily; the music slipped from her fingers -and fell to the keys; she grasped it blindly with both hands, but the -loose sheets fluttered to the floor, and confused, embarrassed, and -mortified almost beyond endurance; she stooped to pick them up, amid a -silence which was unbroken, save by Miss Stiefbach, who said in cold, -hard tones:-- - -"Miss Berkley, do not attempt to repeat your piece; such carelessness is -unpardonable." - -The hot blood rushed to Marion's face; then as suddenly receded, leaving -it deathly white. She rose from the piano, and with a firm step and -untrembling lips walked quietly to her seat. But although externally she -was so calm as to appear almost indifferent, her mind was in a state of -the wildest excitement. The air immediately about her seemed filled with -a confusion of sounds, rushing, whirring, whirling about her; while the -dead silence of the room seemed to take palpable shape and weight, -crushing upon her, until she felt as if she must rush from the room to -break through the unbearable stillness, or scream aloud to silence the -imaginary sounds that were ringing in her ears. - -But she did neither; she sat quietly in her seat, the object of stealthy -but almost general scrutiny. Some of the girls looked at her with -pitying, sympathizing eyes; those who did not like her exchanged glances -of satisfaction; but all refrained from speaking to her, or otherwise -showing their sympathy,--all but Florence; she slipped her hand into her -friend's, and there it remained for the rest of the evening. - -When Marion first struck the piano, and Georgie Graham saw what she was -about to play, her rage and indignation knew no bounds; but when the -music fell, and Marion stood mortified, and, as she thought, disgraced -in the eyes of every one, her spirits rose to a most unparalleled -height, and elated and radiant with satisfaction she took her seat at -the piano, and played the Polonaise almost faultlessly; better than she -had ever played it before. - -With the exception of Marion, all the pupils acquitted themselves with a -great deal of credit; but for a while her failure seemed to cast a -slight shadow over the evening's enjoyment; for her beauty, and the -heroic manner with which she had borne her disgrace, aggravated as it -was by Miss Stiefbach's very unnecessary rebuke, had won for her the -admiration of all the guests, most of whom were entire strangers to her. - -After the close of the musicale, as pupils and guests were mingling -together, and the room was noisy with animated conversation, Miss -Christine went up to Marion, who was standing in a retired corner of the -room talking to M. Béranger, and taking her hand said:-- - -"Marion, now that we are apparently unobserved I must tell you how sorry -I was that Miss Stiefbach should have spoken so severely to you. I am -sure she was not aware how unkind it seemed; she did not intend to hurt -your feelings, and probably thought from your apparent calmness that you -were really not at all nervous, and that dropping your music was nothing -but carelessness and want of interest." - -Marion made no reply, her lips seemed glued together, and Miss Christine -continued:-- - -"I was surprised that Georgie should have played the Polonaise. I rarely -speak of the faults of one girl to another, and perhaps I ought not now, -but I must say, I did not think I had a scholar who would be so unkind -as to choose a piece she knew one of her companions had chosen." - -The rebuke intended for Georgie struck directly home to Marion. She had -been struggling with herself ever since Miss Christine had stood there, -knowing that she ought, before the evening was over, to tell her teacher -the unworthy part she had acted; now every sense of honor and justice -compelled her to do so. But directly beside her stood M. Béranger, and -her pride rebelled at being again disgraced in his eyes, for his -kindness and forbearance, ever since their first lesson, had won for -him her sincere esteem and regard. The struggle was severe, but -momentary, for raising her eyes to Miss Christine, she said:-- - -"It was a very contemptible thing, Miss Christine; nothing but an -intense desire for revenge could have induced me to select a piece I -knew Georgie had previously chosen." - -"You, Marion!" exclaimed Miss Christine; nothing else, just that -exclamation; but the tone of her voice cut Marion more deeply than any -harsh rebuke could have done. - -"Yes, Miss Christine, I chose it, knowing that Georgie had practised it -on purpose to play it to-night. I thought as I was to play first I -should be able to disconcert her. I am heartily ashamed of myself; my -disgrace was nothing but what I deserved." - -For a moment there was silence. Miss Christine was shocked to find -Marion could have done such a thing. Sarcastic, haughty, disagreeable to -her companions in many ways, she had known her to be, but mean never; -she could not understand it. - -If she had known the disgraceful part Georgie had really taken in the -affair; if she had heard of the eaves-dropping of which she had been -guilty in the school-room, to punish which had been quite as great an -inducement for Marion's conduct as a desire for revenge, she would have -felt very differently; but of that Marion said nothing. But Miss -Christine was too kind-hearted, and understood her pupil too well to -speak sternly to her; besides, she knew it must have cost Marion a -severe struggle to exonerate Georgie at the expense of herself, and -doubly so in the presence of M. Béranger. In fact, when the first shock -of surprise had passed off, she felt that the nobleness of Marion's -expiation had atoned for her fault, and she could not help thinking that -there were many girls in the school who would have held their tongues, -and been only too glad to thrust the blame on to one who was so -intensely disagreeable to them. - -These thoughts flashed through Miss Christine's mind in a moment, and -holding out her hand, she said in her kindest tones;-- - -"My dear Marion, I am sure this is the last time you will ever do -anything so unworthy of yourself." - -Marion's only reply was a warm pressure of that dear hand, as she turned -and left the room. - -"Do you not judge Mlle. Berkley too hasteelie?" whispered M. Béranger. -"There is something behind all this, which you do not yet perceive. I -feel verie sure that Mees Georgie do know more tan she do tell." - - - - -CHAPTER XII. - -SARAH BROWN SPEAKS HER MIND. - - -"Now where do you suppose they came from, Marion? I don't know of any -one round here who has a conservatory; they must have come from -Springfield. Who could have sent them?" asked Sarah Brown. - -"I'm sure I don't know; aren't they lovely?" replied Marion; "but here -comes Miss Christine,--let's ask her. Miss Christine," she said, turning -round quickly as her teacher entered the room, "who sent you these -lovely flowers yesterday?" - -Miss Christine started at the abrupt, point-blank question, and looked a -trifle confused:-- - -"Why, really, Marion, I--that is,--M. Béranger sent them here; but, as -the box had no address, I presume they were for the benefit of the whole -school. I certainly did not intend to monopolize them." - -"No, of course you didn't, you dear old Christian!" exclaimed Marion -with the affectionate familiarity she often used towards her teacher; -"of course you didn't; and as they were meant for all of us, you won't -mind it a bit if I appropriate this little sprig of geranium, and do -just as I've a mind to with it, now will you?" - -"No, I don't think I could refuse that, although it does seem a pity to -take it out of water. Why, Marion, what are you going to do with -it?--put it in my hair! No, no, it's too pretty, and it will wither in -such a little while; do take it out!" - -"No, I shan't do any such a thing. You gave it to me to do just what I -chose with it, and I _choose_ to have it in your hair; so you must not -take it out." - -"No, Miss Christine, don't!" exclaimed Sarah Brown. "You ought to keep -it in, even if it's only to please Marion, for most girls would have -stuck it in their own heads; but she never _says_ anything or _does_ -anything like most girls." - -"Hold your tongue, Sarah!" peremptorily replied Marion; "you don't know -what you're talking about." - -"Yes, I do," replied Sarah, emphasizing every word with a shake of the -head. "I know perfectly well what I am talking about, and you know I -know it, and _I_ know I shan't know it much longer without letting -somebody else know it; so there!" - -"Well, Sarah," said Miss Christine, who could not resist joining Marion -in a hearty laugh at Sarah's excited and rather incoherent sentence, "if -you and Marion know what you are talking about, that is certainly more -than I can say, and as it is never polite to allude to a secret in the -presence of a third party. I think I ought to be that somebody else, -whom you are 'to let know it;'" and Miss Christine shook her head in -laughing imitation of Sarah. - -"Well, I'll tell you one thing, Miss Christine; it's about Marion's--" - -"Sarah Brown, hold your tongue!" cried Marion, at the same time clapping -her hand over Sarah's mouth. - -"Marion Berkley, I shan't!" cried Sarah, struggling to free herself, and -gasping out at intervals broken sentences perfectly unintelligible to -Miss Christine; then, as Marion loosed her hold, she shouted: "It's -about Marion's break-down! there!" - -"Sarah Brown, you'll be sorry for this!" cried Marion, her eyes flashing -with indignation. - -"Sarah! Marion!" exclaimed Miss Christine, looking from one to the -other in utter amazement. "I don't understand you at all; what is this -all about?" - -"She doesn't know what she is talking about, and I think she had better -mind her own business!" exclaimed Marion. - -"I do know what I'm talking about, and it's just as much my business as -it is any one else's; if it isn't, I'll make it so." - -"Girls! girls! you cannot think how you grieve and astonish me. Do you -know how you are talking? Your language is unladylike in the extreme. -But"--turning to Sarah--"even that is not so unpardonable as the -thoughtlessness which could lead you to speak of Marion's failure last -night, when you know it must be extremely unpleasant for her to have it -alluded to in any way." - -"Miss Christine, it's too bad for you to speak so to me," cried Sarah, -the tears now streaming down her cheeks, and her voice pitched to its -most excited tones. "You know I just worship Marion, only she won't let -me show it, and I never did an unkind thing to her in my life; but I -told her I should tell about the Polonaise, and so I will; no one shall -stop me!" - -"Sarah, you forget to whom you are speaking," quietly replied Miss -Christine, adding as she glanced at Marion, and noticed that she stood -with her lips tightly compressed, "If you have the affection for Marion -which you profess, you will cease to speak of a subject which evidently -annoys her." - -"Well, it has no business to annoy her, and I mean to tell every girl in -the school," retorted Sarah, now fairly beside herself; and raising her -voice until she fairly shouted, she called to the girls who were passing -the door, on the way to the library, "Come in here, girls! come in here, -every one of you! Yes, Georgie Graham, you too, I want you all. Now -listen to what I've got to say. You all thought Marion Berkley ought to -have been ashamed of herself to play the Polonaise when she knew Georgie -was going to play it; and you were all glad she broke down, because -almost all of you hate her, and are jealous of her because she's the -handsomest, and the smartest, and the very best girl in the school every -way; and because she doesn't say one thing to your back and another to -your face, the way most of you do; but I'll tell you why she played it. -She played it because that creature there--" pointing her finger at -Georgie, who happened to be the central figure in the group of -astonished listeners--"because that girl was in the anteroom -_listening_, _eaves-dropping_, as she always is, and knew all about the -musicale two weeks before any of us, and practised, and practised, by -stealth, just for no other reason than to show off before company, and -put Marion in the shade; and Marion played it just to punish Georgie for -that and fifty other mean things she's done. I suppose you think it was -hateful in Marion; but _I_ don't; I only just wish that for once she'd -had a little of Georgie's _brass_,--for _she's_ got enough for every -girl in the school,--and then she wouldn't have broken down. But I -haven't done yet," exclaimed the excited girl, after stopping to take -breath, "I haven't done yet; when Miss Christine told Marion how sorry -she was that Georgie should have played the piece she had chosen, Marion -told her the whole truth up and down. No, not the whole truth. She never -told about Georgie's listening to Miss Stiefbach; no, not a word! She -just told her she deserved to break down herself for having treated -Georgie so unkindly; and there aren't a dozen girls in the school but -what would have told on another to save herself. Now, who do you think -was the mean one, I should like to know?" and Sarah glanced round the -room with an air of triumph; then as suddenly changing her expression -to one of contempt, she exclaimed, "You needn't say anything. I know you -think just as Marion does, that I've been meddling in business that does -not concern me; but I don't care _that_ for one of you;" and, snapping -her fingers in the air, Sarah sat down in the nearest chair, completely -exhausted by her harangue. - -"Young ladies! young ladies! what is the meaning of this noise?" -exclaimed Miss Stiefbach, in utter amazement, as she entered the room by -another door from that around which almost all the scholars were -crowded. "Why are you not at work in the library? Miss Christine, -explain the cause of this excitement." - -Miss Christine, who had heretofore been completely overpowered by the -suddenness and volubility of Sarah's outbreak, saw at a glance that -something must be done at once to prevent her from going through the -whole again to Miss Stiefbach; for she dreaded the effect it might have -upon her sister, knowing that she would look upon the matter from her -cold, calculating point of view, and probably punish Sarah severely for -her disrespectful conduct, utterly ignoring the generous impulses which -had led to it. As for Georgie, when she hastily glanced at her, and saw -her usually haughty head hanging in shame and confusion, she felt that -for the present at least her punishment was sufficiently severe. So -stepping forward and laying her hand on Sarah's shoulder, at the same -time placing herself almost directly in front of her, she turned to Miss -Stiefbach and said:-- - -"Sarah has been rather disrespectful to me; but I do not think she was -intentionally rude. I shall have to send her to her own room to do her -mending by herself. The rest of the young ladies must go at once to the -library, and I will be with them, directly." - -Miss Stiefbach made no reply, although it did not escape her keen eye -that more had been going on than she was made aware of; but she knew by -previous experience that there were times when Miss Christine's judgment -was wiser than her own. She turned towards the door, and with a -commanding gesture waved the girls out. Marion hesitated, and would have -held back, but Miss Stiefbach coldly remarked:-- - -"Marion, unless you, too, are in disgrace, you will please leave the -room;" and motioning her to lead the way sailed out of the parlor. - -The instant they were gone Sarah threw her arms around her teacher's -neck and sobbed aloud. - -"I could not help it, Sarah; indeed I could not," said Miss Christine -with a troubled voice as she stroked her pupil's hair; "it certainly was -very wrong of you to behave so, and if I had not sent you to your room I -should have had to tell Miss Stiefbach all about it, and I am afraid she -would have punished you more severely than I have." - -"It isn't that, Miss Christine, it isn't that," sobbed Sarah. "I'd a -great deal rather go to my room; and you knew it when you sent me there. -It's about Marion; she said she'd never speak to me again if I told; she -didn't know I knew about it until this morning." - -"Well, how did you know it, dear; did any one tell you?" - -"No, and I wasn't listening either," exclaimed Sarah, raising her -flushed face; "but several of us knew how Georgie found out about the -musicale, and I noticed, just as Marion did, how much she had practised -the Polonaise, and last night I heard her tell one of the girls she was -glad Marion broke down, it just _did her good_; and I determined then -I'd pay her for it. I was standing very near you, though you did not -know it, when Marion told you all about it last night, and I thought it -was outrageous that she should bear all the blame; and before M. -Béranger too! It was a shame! But oh, dear, Miss Christine, it hasn't -done a bit of good! She'll just hate me now, I know she will, for she -almost made me promise not to tell." - -"I cannot say I quite approve of your method of doing Marion justice, -but I hardly think she will be very severe to such a disinterested -little champion," said Miss Christine, who could not help smiling at the -utter wretchedness of Sarah's tone; "however, here she comes to speak -for herself." - -"O Miss Christine, do come in there! I made an excuse to get me some -darning-cotton; but Miss Stiefbach's reading the most stupid book of -sermons; do come in and take her place! What!" as she caught sight of -Sarah, "is she here yet?" - -"Yes, Marion, she is here, and is making herself perfectly miserable, -because she believes she has made you an enemy for life. Don't you think -you can convince her of the contrary?" - -"O Marion!" sobbed Sarah, "please don't be mad with me, for I really -could not help it. I thought I was doing it all for your good, and when -I got started I _could_ not stop till I had it all out." - -"You little bit of a goose! did you really think I was going to be angry -with you after making such a thrilling stump-speech in my favor?" and -throwing herself on her knees beside Sarah's chair, Marion looked up at -her with a smiling face, but with eyes not undimmed by tears. - -"And you really think I did it from kindness?" - -"Yes, I certainly do!" - -"And you won't snub me any more?" cried Sarah, giving Marion a -passionate kiss. - -"Oh, I can't promise you that," laughed Marion; "a little, healthy -snub, now and then, does you good, and I shouldn't be doing my duty if I -didn't give it to you, but"--and her voice assumed the tender, -affectionate tone so rarely heard by her school-mates, and which touched -Sarah even more than her words--"I shall never be really unkind to you -again, and I promise to love you as much as you wish." - -"You really mean it, Marion? You really mean that you will love me?" - -"Yes, I really mean it. Miss Christine shall be my witness that I have -this day gained a friend." - -"Yes, my dear," answered Miss Christine, who had been a silent but -interested observer of this little scene: "and a truer one I do not -think you could have." - - - - -CHAPTER XIII. - -THE WANDERER RETURNS. - - -For several days the musicale, and the events connected with it, formed -the subjects of general conversation. At first Sarah's remarkable -address to her school-mates appeared likely to have a contrary effect -from that which she desired, being calculated to make Marion more -disliked than ever by those to whom she had been held up by her zealous -little champion as superior to themselves in every way. - -But Sarah, despite her quick temper, was a great favorite in the school, -for her warm heart and generous nature made her as ready to do any one a -kindness as she was to fly into a passion. She always spoke the truth, -and if she unintentionally wounded or even annoyed one of her companions -she was ever ready to make reparation. Perhaps many of them felt the -truth of her remarks, and thought that in this case silence was their -only safeguard. - -Miss Christine had spoken privately to the older scholars, entreating -them not to harbor any ill-will towards either of the three immediately -concerned, and so the matter was passed quietly over, and that which in -many instances could have had nothing but evil results seemed likely in -this one to be productive of good; for Marion, fearing that she had been -the means of depriving Sarah of some of her warmest friends, almost -unconsciously assumed a different bearing towards all her companions, -and for her new friend's sake exhibited an interest in persons and -things about her which she had heretofore treated with supreme -indifference. And so the days wore on, and Thanksgiving was rapidly -approaching. None of the girls who lived at a distance were going home -this year, and the house was filled with lamentations, and half-stifled -fears lest certain boxes should fail to make their appearance. - -Marion had as yet received no definite news from her mother regarding -Jemima Dobbs, and her heart was filled with disappointment when she -thought of the lonely Thanksgiving they were likely to have at the -farm-house in place of the bright and happy one she had pictured to -herself. - -She was sitting in her window one morning thinking of Aunt Bettie, when -her door suddenly opened, a voice cried, "Look out for your head!" and a -thick letter was shot into her lap. She caught it eagerly, not stopping -to think whose was the unerring hand that had so accurately hit its -mark, and tearing off the envelope in true school-girl fashion, she -glanced rapidly along the pages, when her eyes were caught with the -words: "Jemima will be at the B---- station Wednesday, when the seven -o'clock train arrives; be sure and have some one there to meet her." -With a cry of delight Marion ran to the door to call Florence, and was -met by that young woman at the head of the stairs. She received the -happy tidings as enthusiastically as Marion could possibly wish, and -going back to their room, and seating themselves in their usual window, -Marion read the letter aloud:-- - - "BOSTON, Nov. 24th. - - "MY DEAR DAUGHTER:--Papa has just gone down town; Fred is at - school; and Charley radiantly happy in the possession of a new - mechanical toy, which I expect will be demolished in a few moments, - as that young gentleman is developing a surprising fancy for - inquiring into the 'why and wherefore' of everything he takes hold - of. As everything seems to promise a quiet time for me, I think I - will devote myself to you, as I have quite a long story to tell - you. - - "I know you have been very much disappointed that my recent - letters have contained no news of your protégé; but I am in hopes - that this one will put all your anxiety to rest, and quite equal - your most ardent expectations. - - "After waiting some time, Mrs. Benson received a letter from the - lady in Charlestown, with whom the girl calling herself Arabella - Dobbs has gone to live, in which she wrote that Arabella had stayed - with her three weeks, but had left, thinking she could find work in - some wholesale clothing establishment, that would prove more - profitable than living out. - - "The lady also voluntarily wrote, that she had every reason to - think the girl was living under an assumed name, as she had - repeatedly answered questions directed to the cook, whose name was - Jemima, and seemed very much confused, when after doing so several - times, remarks were made, and excused herself by saying that her - mother used to call her Jemima 'just for fun.' - - "Of course we were not much longer in doubt as to the identity of - Miss Arabella, but we were, if possible, wider from the mark than - ever, for we had not the most remote idea to what clothing - establishment she had gone, and there being several in the city, it - did not seem very probable that without much difficulty we should - be able to find the right one. While I stood talking with Mrs. - Benson, as she was looking over the directory, a girl came up to - the desk. I moved aside that she might more easily speak to Mrs. - Benson, and she asked in a weak, tired voice, 'Any letters for me, - ma'am?'--'What name?' demanded Mrs. Benson, running her finger down - the column of the book, and not raising her eyes. 'Arabella Dobbs,' - replied the servant-girl. - - "Up jumped Mrs. Benson, slamming the covers of the directory - together with a report like a pistol, while I turned, equally - unable to conceal my astonishment, and looked at the girl as if she - had been a ghost. As you may imagine, such a proceeding could not - be very agreeable to the poor thing, and she looked from one to the - other with a bewildered, half-frightened expression. - - "I must say at my first glance I was not favorably impressed with - her. I had looked for a round-faced, good-natured-looking country - girl; perhaps a trifle 'airy' after her short experience of city - life; but I saw a thin, angular face and figure, the hair drawn - tightly off her forehead up to the very top of her head, and done - in an immense waterfall; a little, round hat tipped forward, the - brim just reaching her forehead, across which lay a row of - corkscrew curls; her dress, which had originally been a good, - serviceable delaine, but was now so soiled as to almost defy - description, was looped up and puckered into a great bunch behind, - in imitation of the panniers worn by the fashionable young ladies - of the day. All this I took in at a glance, and confess to being - rather disgusted with the young woman; but when I looked carefully - at her face all such uncharitable feelings vanished, for it bore - the marks of recent illness and real distress. - - "Do not think, my dear Mab, that I kept the poor creature standing - as long as it has taken me to write all this; my thoughts flew much - faster than my pen ever can. I went up to her, and putting out my - hand said, before Mrs. Benson could recover from her surprise, - "Jemima, I believe there are no letters for you now, but I can tell - you about your dear mother, who is very, very lonely without her - daughter." - - "It is useless to give you an account of our conversation, for I - cannot remember it myself; the poor girl was so overcome by my - unexpected kindness, and her own joy at finding a hand held out to - her when she most needed help, that she opened her heart to me at - once. The person who influenced her to come to Boston proved to be - anything but a friend, and Jemima has paid heavily for following - her advice; it was through her, as Mrs. Dobbs supposed, that she - was induced to give her name as Arabella, and that act was the - key-note to all her misfortune. She succeeded in getting work at a - clothing establishment, at what seemed to her country ears most - liberal terms; but work as hard as she could, she could earn but - little more than enough to pay her board. Crowded into a room with - more than twenty other girls, bending over her work in the stifled - atmosphere from morning until night, soon told upon her health, - accustomed as she had always been to pure country air and bodily - exercise, and she had hardly been at the place three weeks when she - was taken ill with a violent fever. The woman with whom she - boarded, although a cold, grasping creature, was prevented from - sending her away by the entreaties of the other boarders, who, as - the fever was not of a malignant nature, insisted upon having her - kept in the house. Some of the girls were very kind to her; but - they could give her but little attention, as their time was mostly - passed in the workroom. After the first severity of the fever - passed, and the tiresome days of convalescence were reached, the - poor thing yearned for home and dear, familiar faces; she had sent - her friends to Mrs. Benson's several times to inquire for letters, - but with most incredible short-sightedness had always told them to - give the name Arabella Dobbs, entirely forgetting that her mother - did not know she had thrown aside the countrified Jemima. - - "The day I saw her was the first day she had walked out, and she - had literally dragged herself along the street, and up the two long - flights leading to the office. She had given all her dresses, with - the exception of the one she had on, to her landlady, and the woman - had threatened to turn her out if she did not pay her five dollars - that night. I fortunately had the carriage with me, and drove with - Jemima to her boarding-place. The woman was all smiles and - blandishments when she saw me, and quite overpowered Jemima with - her tender inquiries as to how she felt after her walk; but I cut - her short by telling her I had come to take Jemima home with me, - and paid the five dollars she owed her. I think the woman would - have asked more if she had not seen I was pretty determined; and so - promising to send for Jemima's trunk, which was now almost entirely - empty, I brought the exhausted girl here, that she might rest a few - days and gain strength for her journey. She evidently is longing - for home, and I do not believe she will feel like herself until she - gets there. I am having her a good, warm dress made, and shall give - her my plain gray silk bonnet, that her mother's good sense need - not be shocked at sight of her hat, which is about the size of a - small saucer. I think she is very much humbled; she shows it in - many ways; most of all in her dress, and I am happy to say the - corkscrew ringlets no longer adorn her brow. Jemima will be at the - B---- station when the seven o'clock train arrives; be sure and - have some one there to meet her. - - "And now, my dear, I have only time to say that we are all well, - and hoping to hear from you soon. I know this letter will be more - interesting to you than if it contained pages of spicy news. I seem - to see you and Florence enjoying its contents. Give my love to her, - and accept more than ever a letter carried before for yourself, - from your fond - - "MAMMA." - -"She'll be here to-morrow, as true as you live!" exclaimed Marion. "Oh, -I am so glad! for now Aunt Bettie will have a Thanksgiving after all, -and I was afraid it would be anything but that." - -"Of course you'll go up there with her." - -"No, I shan't. I shall go this afternoon, if Miss Christine will let me, -and of course she will, and tell auntie that Jemima is found, and will -probably be with her by Saturday; then you see Jemima will surprise her -by getting there to-morrow, for I must have a surprise about it -somewhere. I shall tell auntie how sick Jemima has been, and that she -must not be the least bit harsh with her." - -"But I should think you would want to go too, so as to see the fun," -said Florence. - -"Fun! I don't think there'll be much fun in it. I believe it will be -rather a _teary_ time at first, and I prefer to be out of the way." - -"In other words, you think it would be a little easier for them to be by -themselves; so you give up seeing the 'grand tableau' at the close of -the play, which never would have happened but for you." - -"Don't be a goose, Flo!" laughed Marion, who, although radiant with -delight, and a secret sort of satisfaction, tried to remain cool, for -fear she should appear too much pleased with the part she had played in -the affair. - -"Who are you going to send to the station?" asked Florence. - -"I'm going myself." - -"Do you suppose Miss Stiffy's going to let you march off by yourself two -days in succession?" - -"Not a bit of it," replied Marion. "I'm going to get up a party to go to -the farm this afternoon, and I'll manage it so that I can hang back, and -tell the good news after you have all gone out." - -"And then rush off and not give her a chance to thank you." - -"I dare say," replied Marion; "but I mustn't stop here; it's time we -went down, for the clock struck five minutes ago." - -Marion was as good as her word, and arranged a party for Aunt Bettie's -that afternoon, taking care, however, to have Florence gain the required -permission, as she knew she should want the same favor the next day. She -managed to make Aunt Bettie understand in a few words all that was -necessary of her daughter's story, leaving it for Jemima to make up -deficiencies, and hurried off, overtaking her companions before they had -missed her. - -The next day, finding out at what hour the train in which Jemima was -coming would arrive, she walked to the village, made arrangements with -a man who was in the habit of doing errands for Miss Stiefbach, to have -a comfortable covered wagon ready to take Jemima and her trunk to the -farm, and then went to the station to await the arrival of the cars. As -she sat waiting, the station-master came into the room, and planting -himself in front of her, with both hands in his pockets, and chewing a -toothpick suddenly accosted her with:-- - -"Goin' deown?" - -"Going where?" asked Marion, not overpleased at his advances. - -"Deown--deown to Boston;" jerking his thumb over his shoulder, as if -that city was situated in the room directly behind him. - -"No, sir." - -"No? 'spectin' someun p'raps." - -Marion made no reply. - -"S'pose you're one o' them gals up t'the schule?" - -Marion still observed a dignified silence. - -"Spectin' one o' the gals?" queried the man, who, being a true Yankee, -was not at all abashed by the coldness with which his questions, or -rather comments, were received. - -"No, sir," replied Marion. - -"You ben't?--_not_ one o' the gals; you're marm, p'raps?" - -"No, sir." - -"Did you say as how you b'longed up t'the schule?" - -"No, I did not say so," replied Marion, too irritated to be amused at -his persistency. - -"Oh, you didn't; wall, I didn't know but p'raps you did, an' ef so, I -hed somethin' to tell yer, that's all;" and whistling a tune he was -about to walk off, when Marion exclaimed:-- - -"I didn't say whether I belonged to the school or not, because you -didn't ask me." - -"Didn't I jest say I s'posed you was one o' them gals up t'the schule?" -demanded the man, still chewing his toothpick, and looking at her as if -his last remark was a poser. - -"So you did," replied Marion; "you stated the fact, and as I didn't say -anything took it for granted I was one of the scholars. When you ask a -direct question perhaps I'll answer it." - -"Aint you a smart un?" exclaimed the man. "Wall now, that's what I call -right deown smart; jest answer to the pint, an' then yer don't git -cornered;" and he nodded his head at her in real admiration. "Wall, I -s'pose I must put it pretty sharp ef I expect to git an answer. Neow," -taking his hat off and rubbing his hands through his hair as if to -collect his ideas, "be you one o' them gals as goes t'the schule jest -abeout tew miles from here?" - -"Yes, I am," replied Marion, who, now that she saw the man had some -motive besides idle curiosity, descended from her loftiness. - -"Wall, I've got a box in here that came deown in the express train, an' -I didn't kneow but what you'd come to see 'bout it. It's fur one o' them -gals, an' 's I haint bin here long I haint much used to the business, -an' I didn't know heow to git it up there." - -"Who is it for?" asked Marion. - -"I don't remember; one o' yer highfalutin sort o' names. But you jest -come and see it;" and he led the way into the "gentleman's room," and -pointed to a large box standing in the corner. - -Marion walked up to it, and glancing at the address exclaimed: "Why, it -is for me!" - -"Wall, neow du tell!" exclaimed the station-master; "neow I call that -quite a coincydance, I du!" - -"Well, I call it a very nice box," laughed Marion; "and there comes a -man I've engaged to do a job for me, and he can take it in his wagon, -and leave it at the school." - -"You're a smart un, I tell you," remarked the man as he lifted the box -and carried it to the door; "you know how to do the bisness, an' no -mistake." - -Before Marion could reply, or take any notice of his remark, the whistle -of an engine was heard, and as she went out on to the platform the train -whizzed up and stopped If it had not have been for her mother's -preparation, she would never have recognized in the thin, subdued, pale -young woman who stepped from the cars, the bright, rosy country girl she -had seen so many times at Aunt Bettie's. - -She welcomed Jemima most cordially, making no allusions that could -embarrass the poor girl, and rattled on a string of good-natured -nothings, as she delivered the little hair trunk into the hands of her -charioteer, and then placed Jemima on the back seat. - -"Aint you goin', miss?" asked the driver. - -"Oh, no! I prefer to walk. Good-by, Jemima. Give my love to your mother, -and tell her I wish her a happy thanksgiving." - -Jemima grasped the hand Marion held out to her, and exclaimed under her -breath, just loud enough for Marion to catch the words, "God bless you, -miss!" It was the first time she had spoken since she arrived; but I -think Marion was satisfied. - -As Marion turned away from the wagon, her eyes fell upon the -station-master, who, with his legs planted at a most respectful distance -from each other, his hands still in the depths of his pockets, and his -head cocked on one side, had been watching all the proceedings with the -deepest interest. As she passed him he nodded his head slowly three -times in the most serious manner, and remarked, with even more than his -former emphasis, "You're a smart un!" - - - - -CHAPTER XIV. - -MARION'S THANKSGIVING PARTY. - - -"Where have you been?" exclaimed half-a-dozen girls as Marion entered -the gate; "here's a splendid great box just come for you." - -"And who do you think was with the man that brought it?" asked one. -"Why, Mimy Dobbs, as sure as you're born; you know she's been away ever -so long, and the cook told me people thought she'd run away, and was -never coming back at all, because she hated living with her mother up at -that poky old farm." - -"Stuff and nonsense!" exclaimed Marion. "I advise cook to pay more -attention to our dinners, and let other people's affairs alone. But that -is a box worth having, if the inside prove as good as the out. Come, -lend a hand, girls, and help me carry it upstairs, for if Miss Stiffy -sees it I shall have to open it down here, and she'll _advise_ me to put -most of the things in the larder, and that won't suit me at all." - -"Hush!" said Florence, as she took hold of one of the rope-handles with -which the box was provided; "don't make a noise. Miss Stiefbach is in -the secret-chamber; she passed through here a minute ago, and we girls -all hustled round the box, and covered it up with our skirts; for it's -such a bouncer we knew she'd make a fuss about it." - -"Come, ready now! You go first, and don't step on the back of your dress -and stumble," whispered Marion. "Isn't it heavy though? Sarah Brown, do -put your hands under, and give it a boost;--softly now!" - -Amid considerable pulling and tugging, accompanied with half-suppressed -screams, as the corners of the box came in dangerous proximity to the -wall, the two girls managed to get as far as the bend in the stairs, -when, alas! notwithstanding Marion's warning, Florence made a misstep, -and trod on her dress, which threw her violently back on to the stairs, -bringing the box down with full force upon one of her feet. - -"Oh, it's half killing me! it's half killing me! take it up quick, or I -shall scream right out!" exclaimed the poor girl, in low but agonized -tones, which ought to have roused the sympathies of the hardest heart; -but Marion and Sarah, notwithstanding they pitied Florence from the -bottom of their hearts, were so full of laughter that, although they -exerted to the utmost the little strength they had left, they could not -move the box an inch. - -Poor Florence writhed and moaned in perfect torture, and not being a -saint, but a very human girl, exclaimed, in tones of unmistakable anger, -"I wish the old box was where it came from. If you don't stop laughing, -and take it off my foot I'll yell at the top of my lungs!" - -Happily for all parties, Grace Minton and Julia Thayer, who had been -watching them from below, sprang up the stairs, and, lifting the box, -carried it into Marion's room. - -Florence could hardly move, and now that their laughter had subsided, -Marion and Sarah helped her up to her room, making up by their devotion -for their apparent thoughtlessness. - -"Oh, do be careful, Mab; it's almost killing me!" cried Florence, as she -sat down on the edge of the bed, and Marion proceeded to take off her -boot. "Oh! oh! just wait one minute till I brace myself,--there! Now -give one awful pull, and have it over with." - -Marion did as she was told; the boot came off, but poor Florence, -notwithstanding she shut her teeth tight, and clenched the coverlid -with both hands, could not suppress a groan as she threw herself back on -the bed. - -"Quick! quick! some camphor! cologne! rum! anything! she's going to -faint!" cried Sarah Brown, clasping her hands, and jumping straight up -and down, without offering to get either herself. - -"No, I'm not," said Florence, with considerable more energy than is -generally shown by fainting persons; "but it did hurt terribly! Now pull -off my stocking, please, and see if I've made a fuss about nothing. I -shall be provoked if it isn't black and blue!" - -"I know just how you feel," said Marion, as she carefully pulled off the -stocking; "it is a perfect satisfaction when one is hurt to have -something to show for it; but mercy! I never saw such a looking foot; -you'll be laid up for a week!" - -And there certainly seemed every reason to think Marion's prediction -likely to prove true, for the edge of the box had made a deep, red -groove across the instep, and the whole of the upper part of the foot -was rapidly turning black and blue. - -"Bring the wash-basin full of water, and some towels, and bathe her foot -very gently. I'll get some arnica and a roll of linen mother always has -me bring in case I get hurt. What a lucky thing I happened to have it! -Sarah, hand me a tumbler half full of water, and I'll put some arnica in -it; it won't do for her to have it on clear." - -"Marion is right in her element," remarked Florence; "there's nothing -she likes better than fussing over _wounds_." - -"Yes, particularly when they're of such a dangerous nature as this one," -laughed Marion, as she knelt down to apply the arnica. - -After some time had been spent in sympathy and bathing, the injured -foot was nicely bound up, and laid tenderly on the bed, but what to do -for a stocking and shoe was the next question, for the foot was so much -swollen that Florence could not possibly get on her own. - -"I tell you what I'll do," said Sarah Brown, who, now that there seemed -no danger that Florence would faint, had become as cool as it was -possible for her to be; "I'll just steal into Miss Stiffy's room, and -get a pair of stockings out of her drawer, and a slipper too; she's got -about forty pairs of creepers, and she won't miss 'em for a little -while." - -"But suppose you should get caught?" exclaimed Florence; "then it would -all come out, and we had better have told in the first place." - -"Not a bit of it! If we did it would spoil all our fun with Marion's -box, for of course she intends to give us a treat." - -"Of course," replied Marion; "but why don't you go down into the -laundry, and get Biddy to give you a pair? There are some there, I know, -and she'll never tell of us." - -"Why, don't you see, Miss Stiefbach knows exactly how many pairs she -puts into the wash, and if they didn't all come up she'd know it; but -she won't miss 'em if I take them out of the drawer." - -"Well, if you really aren't afraid to risk it; and do be quick about it; -don't make a bit of noise, for if Miss Stiefbach should catch you you'd -never hear the last of it, and I should be to blame," said Florence. - -Sarah hurried along the entry until she reached Miss Stiefbach's room, -which was directly over the private study, and then it occurred to her -that Miss Christine might be in there; so she spoke and called her by -name. Marion and Grace, who stood at the other door, exchanged glances -with Florence, who was still on the bed, and all three looked like -detected culprits. Sarah spoke again; but receiving no answer gently -pushed the door open. She nodded her head to the girls to let them know -that the coast was clear, and stealthily entered the room. Marion and -Grace heard her as she crossed the room; then followed a moment of -terrible silence; then they heard the creaking of the bureau-drawer as -she slowly opened it. - -"Oh!" whispered Marion, "if she _should_ pull it out too far, and the -whole thing come down on the floor with a bang! Miss Stiefbach would -certainly hear it, and know some one was in there." - -"Hush!" answered Grace, "don't suggest anything go horrible! There, -she's shutting it; so far so good; now for the slippers,--they're in the -closet." - -"I know it, and that closet-door creaks awfully!" - -The closet-door did "creak awfully" and no mistake, and it seemed to the -two girls, listening in almost breathless silence, that the noise was -loud enough to be heard all over the house. In a moment they heard Sarah -fumbling over the slippers, of which Miss Stiefbach always kept several -pairs on hand, as she never wore anything else in the house. They felt -comparatively safe now, for no sound was heard from below, except once -in a while a laugh from the girls in the library, and Miss Stiefbach -would not probably leave her study until supper time. They were just -about to turn back into the room to go to Florence, when they heard the -study-door open, and Miss Stiefbach's voice from below, saying, "In one -moment, I am going upstairs to my room." - -What if she had heard the noise and was coming up to ascertain the -cause! Marion rushed along the entry, reaching her teacher's room just -as Sarah was carefully closing and latching the closet-door. - -"O Sarah, hurry! hurry! she's coming upstairs; she's at the foot of the -stairs! Give me that slipper, and hide the stockings under your apron. -Run for your life! No, no, it's no use, she'll meet us; we must face it -out; don't look conscious." - -Sarah tucked the stockings under her apron, Marion slipped her arm -through her friend's, and hiding the slipper between them, with beating -hearts, and almost sure of detection, they walked slowly down the long -entry, directly in the face and eyes of Miss Stiefbach. As they -approached her she stopped, and with more than her usual mildness -remarked:-- - -"Ah! young ladies, thinking of home, I dare say; but I trust you will -have as pleasant a Thanksgiving here as there, although I am happy to -say there has not been the usual influx of boxes." - -The girls laughed slightly in reply, nudging each other quietly as she -passed on, restraining their desire to rush for Marion's room, and not -until the door was fairly closed behind them did their pent-up feelings -find vent, when Marion, tossing the slipper till it hit the ceiling, -shouted:-- - -"Victory! three cheers for General Brown, the Stonewall Jackson of -Massachusetts!" - -"But what in the world should I have done if you hadn't rushed in, and -told me she was coming?" exclaimed Sarah. "Why, I should have run right -into her!" - -"Lucky for you you didn't," remarked Grace; "she'd have given you -Jessie; if you know what that is." - -"Well, Marion and Sarah," said Florence, "I think you're both perfect -angels!" - -"Yes, dear, 'angels in disguise,'" remarked Marion. "Well, this angel -will proceed to put your foot into Miss Stiffy's delicate, little -stocking; the slipper will be a perfect fit, I know; you'll have the -most stylish foot in town. There! now see if you can step on it." - -"Take hold of me, please, for I know I shan't be able to bear my whole -weight on it!" - -"Don't be in a hurry; lean on my shoulder; put your well foot on the -floor, and set the other down very carefully." - -"O Mab, it hurts awfully! I don't see how I can ever get down to tea in -the world; but I shall have to grin and bear it, or else Miss Stiefbach -will find it out." - -"Suppose you go down now," suggested Sarah, "and we can help you into -the dining-room before the bell rings, and if we all crowd round you -Miss Stiefbach won't notice the slipper." - -"That's a capital plan," said Marion; "now put your arm way over my -shoulder, Flo. Grace, take hold of her that side, and Sallie go in front -as a spy. I think this is growing interesting." - -"Very--for you," remarked Florence. - -"You poor child! does it hurt terribly? Don't step on it, hobble along -as well as you can, and lean all your weight on us." - -With much hopping and halting, and little starts and agitated whispers, -as they thought they heard Miss Stiefbach or Miss Christine behind them, -they proceeded on their way, and after some little time reached the -dining-room in safety, and as the tea-bell rang immediately after, and -the scholars all came in together, nothing unusual was noticed; but they -dreaded the moment when they should have to leave the dining-room on -their way to the study, where Miss Stiefbach always read history aloud -for an hour after supper. Marion had been turning it over in her own -mind during the meal, and decided to make an attempt to get rid of the -reading that night. - -"Miss Stiefbach," she asked, as supper was almost over, "didn't you say -you hoped we should all have as pleasant a Thanksgiving as if we were at -home?" - -"I believe I said so, Marion. I certainly meant it." - -"Well, do you know, when I'm at home, our Thanksgiving begins the night -before, and we _never_ spend the evening reading history." - -Miss Stiefbach could not help joining in the general laugh, only her -laugh was a dignified smile, and replied, "I suppose that means that you -would like to give up our history to-night." - -"I don't think we should any of us weep if that should be the case." - -"No, I suppose not; and for fear you might if the reverse order of -things was to take place, I will dispense with the reading to-night, and -Miss Christine and myself will withdraw from the room, leaving you young -ladies to chat over your supper for a while longer." - -"Oh, splendid!" "Thank you, Miss Stiefbach." "Just what we wanted!" -etc., resounded from all sides, as, with a most unusually gracious bow, -Miss Stiefbach left the room with Miss Christine, who nodded and smiled -back at the girls, fully appreciating the pleasure they experienced at -being released from all restraint. - -The closing of the door was a signal for a general hubbub; every tongue -was unloosed, and the spirit of mischief reigned supreme. One girl drank -her tea to find it strongly flavored with salt; another raised her -goblet of water to her lips just as a piece of biscuit went splash to -the bottom of the glass, dashing the contents into her face; a third -turned suddenly on hearing her name called from the other side of the -table, only to be hit plump on the nose with a hard cracker; and so it -went on, a perfect Babel of shouts and cries; for the younger girls, -following the example of the older ones, went in for a regular train, -and pieces of bread and broken crackers were soon flying in every -direction. - -Marion and Sarah took advantage of the confusion to get Florence up to -her room; having succeeded in doing so, Marion produced a hammer, and -getting down on her knees prepared to open that wonderful Thanksgiving -box. - -"I mean to see what there is in it," she said, "and then if I can manage -it, I'll get some of the girls up here, and we'll have a jolly time." - -With much hammering, pulling, and chattering, the cover of the box was -at last removed, and Marion proceeded to display its contents to the -eager eyes of her companions. - -"First of all, here's a note from mamma; now curb your impatience while -I skim it over." - -Marion seated herself on the floor and having glanced down the page -commenced reading it aloud:-- - - "BOSTON, Nov. 21st. - - "DEAR MARION:--I have only a moment to spare, for I have been so - busy getting the box ready, that I have not had time to-day to - write you a long letter, and only scratch off this bit of a note to - let you know we are all well, and almost dreading to-morrow, - because you will not be with us. - - "I hope you will enjoy the contents of your box. I think it would - be an excellent plan for you to hand over some of the most - substantial articles to Miss Stiefbach for the use of the - community; but mind, I only make the suggestion, you can do as you - please about following it; only don't go too far with your frolic, - for I am perfectly sure you will have one. - - "Papa has made an addition to the bill of fare, which I submitted - to him for inspection, of which I am supposed to be entirely - ignorant; for, as he said, he was not entirely sure I would approve - if I knew the contents of the brown-paper box, which you will find - surrounded by your other goodies. As papa superintended the packing - of it himself, and seemed particularly anxious lest it should not - be sufficiently wrapped up, I cannot help suspecting that it has - breakable qualities; whatever it is, my dear daughter, be judicious - in your use of it. - - "My note has stretched into quite a letter. I am expecting the - express-man any moment, so must close now with a thousand loving - good-bys, - - "From your fond - - "MAMMA." - -"I wonder what it can be that papa has sent; something nice, I know! He -doesn't think there is anything in the world too good for me,--an idea -which I don't hesitate to encourage him in. Now, Sarah, just clear off -that table, please, and pull it out into the middle of the room, so I -can have a place to put all these things; toss the books and table-cover -on to the bed there, beside of Florence. - -"First and foremost here are two loaves of cake, and such cake! Flo, do -look at this one! That is some of Biddy's doings, I know; frosted -elegantly, and 'Marion' in the centre all in quirlyqus; that's just like -Bid! she's about as ridiculous over me as father is. What is the reason, -girls,"--and Marion stopped short with the cake in both hands, and a -change in her bright, joyous manner, "--that they all think so much of -me at home, and hardly any one likes me here?" - -"Because you don't--" - -"There, Sarah Brown, that will do; I don't want to hear the rest," -exclaimed Marion, putting up her hand with an impatient gesture. "I -asked a question hastily, without thinking of the consequences. I'll -take your answer for granted, and I know just as well what it would be -as if you'd spoken; so you'll oblige me by keeping quiet." - -"Of course when 'Her Royal Highness' commands, her loyal subjects can -have no choice but to obey," replied Sarah, with an air of mock humility -and submission. - -"Well, see that you do," laughed Marion, "and put this great turkey on -the table. I guess it will be policy for me to follow mamma's advice, -and that gobbler will be handed over to Miss Stiffy. But see here, as -true as you live, mamma has sent me a pair of cold ducks, and here's a -glass of currant jelly; she knows I must have jell with my ducks. Here -is a bundle of something, I'm sure I don't know what--oh, nuts! ever so -many kinds, all cracked; that's splendid! And here is another of -raisins, and a bundle of candy; take some, girls; hand it to Flo, Sarah, -she can open it. Take some of these cookies, do; they're delicious, and -lots of 'em, put in all round everywhere to fill up the cracks. I wish I -could get out papa's box, but all these things are wedged in round it; -besides, I must be careful not to break it, whatever _it_ is. Here's the -last thing,--a bundle of prunes and dates, and from Fred; he knows I've -a weakness for dates. And _now_ for papa's box; help me lift it out, -Sarah, and take it over to the bed. Oh! oh! it's champagne! it's -champagne, as sure as I'm a sinner; who would have believed it? Here's a -card: 'Miss Marion Berkley, with the compliments of her totally depraved -father.' That is papa right over! We always have a great joke about -champagne, because I never drink it, except a glass with him -Thanksgiving and Christmas day; you know I've always been home before, -and he didn't mean I should be cheated out of it this year. Here it is, -two bottles and a half-a-dozen glasses; we'll have a party to-night, a -regular goose party, and drink the health of the dear, old darling." - -"What _would_ Miss Stiefbach say," exclaimed Florence, "if she knew you -were going to have a regular Thanksgiving supper?" - -"Hold up her hands in holy horror; and of course it's a dreadful thing. -I haven't the least doubt but what mamma thought it was cider." - -"Whom are you going to invite?" asked Sarah. - -"Only three besides ourselves; that will be six--a good number. Whom -shall I ask, Flo?" - -"That's for you to say, I should think." - -"Well, you know it doesn't make much difference to me. I'll ask Grace, -of course; she helped get the box up here." - -"And Georgie Graham," dryly suggested Sarah. - -"I rather think not," replied Marion. "Grace Minton, Julia Thayer, and -who shall be the third? Come, say some one, Flo." - -"I wish you'd ask Rachel Drayton," said Florence, in the tone of one -pleading for a great favor. - -"I don't believe she'd come if I asked her." - -"Well, you might try it," said Sarah; "she can't do anything more than -refuse." - -"She won't refuse if Marion asks her cordially." - -"Well, Flo, I'll do it, considering you've been laid up in the cause." - -And Marion ran out of the room, and downstairs, to hunt up the three -girls, and let them know, in as quiet a way as possible, that she wanted -them up in her room in about fifteen minutes. In her inmost heart she -had wanted to ask Rachel Drayton, but did not like to mention her -herself, and she gave the invitation with so much warmth, despite the -necessity of a mysterious whisper, that Rachel accepted at once with a -nod, and a bright smile, such as Marion had never before called up on -that usually serious face. - -When Marion got back to her room, Sarah had arranged the various -articles on the table in something like order, although the variety and -quantity prevented them from making a very elegant appearance. - -"There! how does that look?" she asked as Marion made her appearance. - -"Well, I must say it does not exactly suit me; there's too much on the -table. We couldn't eat it half to-night, if we try; so what's the use of -such a spread? That turkey I'm going to present to Miss Stiefbach; so -that can go into the empty box. Flo, I'm going to appropriate your fancy -basket for the nuts and raisins; it will give a distingué air to the -table, you know. Now what shall we do for plates?" - -"Oh, never mind about plates," said Florence; "you can carve the ducks, -and put a bit of jelly on each piece, and we can eat with our fingers; -you mustn't be so particular." - -"But I've no idea of putting ducks and cakes, and cookies and dates, all -higgledy-piggledy on to the table together! Sarah, you're such a good -forager you won't mind running down the back way, and getting three or -four plates, now will you?" - -"I just as lief as not, and I'll bring some knives and forks, and a -spoon too, for the jelly." - -"You're a jewel! and be quick, or I'm afraid the girls will be here -before you get back." - -Marion fluttered about, putting such things as she wished to keep for a -future occasion on a shelf in the closet, chattering to Flo all the -time. "Now isn't this jolly, Florence? I mean to have a magnificent time -to-night, no matter what happens. Those bottles give quite a regal air -to the table, don't they? And your basket is equal to the greatest -achievement of the renowned Smith. I must say our supply of china -doesn't look very promising; however, we'll have all the more fun." - -"Are they here?" asked Sarah, coming in. "No? Well, I thought I was -pretty quick; here's one of the kitchen platters for the ducks, four -plates, two knives and forks and a spoon; that's the best I could do for -you." - -"Capital! Now I believe everything is ready;" and Marion stood back, and -surveyed the scene with perfect satisfaction. "There they are!" she -exclaimed, as a knock was heard at the door. "Stand in front of the -table, Sallie, so that the full splendors of the scene won't burst on -them at once, and I'll let them in,--that's it." - -"Hollo, girls! Come in quick; don't make a bit of noise, for fear Miss -Stiefbach should hear you." - -"O Mab, how splendid! elegant! what a treat!" exclaimed the girls, as -the full magnificence of the entertainment was revealed to them. - -"What a box that was!" said Grace Minton; "no wonder it half killed you, -Flo." - -"And how are you now?" asked Rachel Drayton, who naturally felt a little -out of place, for she had never been in the room before. Flo was rarely -if ever there without Marion, and had never invited her there, not -feeling sure of the reception she might meet with from her room-mate. - -"I'm feeling nicely now," she answered. "In fact, I've been so -interested in watching Marion, that I've hardly thought of myself. I -wonder if I couldn't get up, and stand by the table." - -"No, indeed!" exclaimed Marion; "you mustn't think of such a thing. You -are to be the belle of the party; Miss Drayton comes next on the list of -distinguished guests, and she must sit there;" placing a chair at the -foot of the bed, where Rachel could have a good view of Florence; "the -rest of you may sit where you've a mind to, and I'll do the honors." - -"I'll keep Florence company," said Julia Thayer, as she seated herself -on the foot of the bed. "Now, Miss Brown, you can help Miss Berkley open -the champagne." - -"Will it pop?" asked Sarah, clapping her hands over her ears. - -"Of course it will, if it's worth anything," replied Marion. "But you -needn't be frightened; I'm only going to loosen the wires a little; we -don't want to commence with champagne." - -"Wouldn't it be a joke," said Grace Minton, "if Miss Stiefbach should -walk in on us just as you got the cork out?" - -But hardly were the words spoken, when the door, which all supposed -locked, suddenly opened, and Miss Stiefbach appeared upon the threshold. -Oh! horror of horrors! Marion's experience in opening wines had not been -sufficient to teach her the force of champagne. As the door opened, she -was standing in the middle of the room, holding the bottle at arms' -length, fumbling at the wires; in her surprise and amazement at the -apparition before her, she gave an extra tug, when pop went the cork, -and with it half the contents of the bottle in Miss Stiefbach's face. - -Miss Stiefbach stood with uplifted hands, perfectly electrified with -astonishment at the sight before her. As for the six girls, each in her -turn was a perfect picture of horror; visions of fearful lectures, -perhaps expulsion from school, rising in the minds of all. - -But before Miss Stiefbach could collect her scattered senses, and wrap -herself in her mantle of frigid dignity, Marion set the bottle on the -table, and, springing forward, caught up a towel, and with profuse -lamentations and regrets for the accident, commenced wiping the stains -from her teacher's dress. - -"O Miss Stiefbach, what did you come so soon for? It was too bad of -you; it has just upset all our plans. We had only this moment got the -table set, and I had not had time to go down and invite you and Miss -Christine. I had no idea that horrid champagne would go off like that; -it frightened us half to death.--Sarah, put your hand over that bottle, -or we shall lose it all.--Now, Miss Stiefbach, _do_ sit down, and I'll -go right off and get Miss Christine." - -"Marion Berkley, do you mean to say that you expect me and Miss -Christine to sit down to a supper which you young ladies have secretly -prepared?" - -"Why, of course I do!" replied Marion, with an air of perfect simplicity -and confidence, which perfectly amazed her companions, who were -breathlessly awaiting the issue of the conversation; "of course I do! -Why, what did I ask you to give up the history for if it wasn't that I -might have time for my supper? I knew it would never do to have it down -in the dining-room, for then all the little girls would want to come, -and of course we couldn't have them; and I don't care to invite all the -old girls, only just those who would make a pleasant party. Now, Miss -Stiefbach, it would be positively cruel for you to refuse to join us!" -and Marion looked as if her whole future happiness depended on her -teacher's answer. - -Miss Stiefbach was in a dilemma; she could hardly bring herself to -believe that the supper was intended as a compliment to herself; but -nevertheless Marion's invitation was given with such apparent sincerity, -and without even a hint of a doubt as to the propriety of the affair, -that she was put quite off her guard, and hardly knew what to say. To -sit down with a parcel of school-girls to a table heaped with good -things, and crowned with champagne, was altogether too much for her -dignity, and a compromise suggested itself to her. - -"I thank you, Marion, for your implied compliment," she said with her -usual stately, polite manner, "but I really think it would be unbecoming -in me to enter into any festivities with a part of my scholars, from -which the rest were excluded; but I will send Miss Christine to keep you -company, as I could not think of leaving you alone." - -"Of course not," said Marion; "we never thought you would; but please -before you go let us drink your health in a glass of champagne?" - -"Might I ask where this champagne came from?" asked Miss Stiefbach, -glancing round the room at the other girls, who still maintained a -discreet silence. - -"Oh, papa sent it to me," replied Marion. "I presume mamma thought it -was cider; but papa always has me drink champagne with him Thanksgiving -day, and as I could not be home, the next best thing was to send it, so -I could drink it here. You don't think it was _very_ dreadful in him, do -you?" - -"I cannot say that I wholly approve of it; but perhaps under the -circumstances I must waive my objections." - -"Oh, please do, Miss Stiefbach, just this once; and oh, I forgot all -about it, here's a great turkey, and a loaf of cake for you; shall I -take it down?" - -"Thank you, you are very kind," replied Miss Stiefbach. "You may take it -down after you have finished your supper; but I will go now, and send -Miss Christine." - -"No! no! Miss Stiefbach, not yet. Papa would feel dreadfully if he knew -you refused his champagne; it never would do in the world. Here, Sarah, -hand these round to the girls;" and Marion filled the six glasses. "I -shall have to take a tumbler myself, but never mind; now are you all -ready? Well, here's to the health of Miss Stiefbach; may she live many -years at the head of this school, and may every Thanksgiving eve see her -as she is now, smiling encouragement upon the innocent pleasure of her -pupils." - -The toast was drank with smiles and bows, and Miss Stiefbach retired -from the room with a bland "Good-evening, young ladies, and a happy -Thanksgiving to you all." - -Poor woman! with all her learning, and the terrible dignity with which -she thought it necessary to enshroud herself, as a part of her position -as head of a large school, she was at heart as simple-minded as a child. - -"Girls!" exclaimed Marion, as she turned to her companions, and the door -closed after Miss Stiefbach, "you've been taught that there are seven -wonders in the world; after this I think you can add an eighth." - -"Indeed we can!" exclaimed Sarah Brown; "and that eighth will be Marion -Berkley!" - -"I don't mean myself at all, but the whole thing. Imagine Miss Stiffy -smiling benignly on an affair like this! But keep quiet, Miss Christine -will be here in a minute. She'll see through the whole thing, you may be -sure; but nevertheless we must carry it out just the same. Don't you -betray me; we'll have just as good a time, and better too, if she's -here; besides, no matter what happens now, Miss Stiefbach has -countenanced us. Don't stir off that bed, Julia, and keep your skirts -well over Flo's foot. How do you feel now, dear?" - -"All right; in fact, I had forgotten all about it; but here's Miss -Christine." - -Miss Christine came in with a comical smile on her face; but whatever -may have been her opinion of the affair, she said nothing, and took -everything just as it came. She was not so old but that she could enter -heartily into the girls' fun and nonsense, and yet her presence was a -restraint upon them, which, although unfelt, kept them from carrying -their hilarity too far. - -Mr. Berkley's contribution to the box was certainly a very injudicious -one, which the majority of parents would heartily condemn; and, as -Marion had conjectured, his wife had supposed the bottles contained -nothing more exciting than sweet cider. Fortunately, the unskilful -manner in which they were opened sent more of their contents round the -room than all that went into the glasses; so the amount consumed was -really very small. At ten o'clock the party broke up, and I am inclined -to think that for the rest of their lives those girls never forgot -Marion's Thanksgiving party. - - - - -CHAPTER XV. - -MISS CHRISTINE GOES TO A PARTY. - - -Thanksgiving day passed off very quietly, but nevertheless very -pleasantly, at school. The little dissipation of the night previous had -given such perfect satisfaction to all those who participated in it, and -they were the scholars who were generally the ringleaders in every -scheme for fun and frolic, that they were all willing to maintain a most -discreet behavior throughout the day. To be sure they entered into all -the lively conversation of the dinner-table, and amused some of the -younger ones afterwards with games and stories; but there was none of -that general uproar and confusion that one would expect to see in a -school full of all ages, when the whole day was fully understood to be -at their disposal and they were released from any apparent restraint. - -The quiet behavior of Marion and her set might have been readily -attributed to the fact of Florence's lameness, had that fact been known; -it took the united energies and tact of the six to get her up and down -stairs, and in and out of rooms so that her limping would not be -noticed, or attention attracted to the sudden growth of one of her feet. -She bore the pain like a martyr, and managed to conceal her sufferings -from the public, only giving vent to her feelings when she was perfectly -sure of not being observed. - -Of course Marion's supper could not remain a secret, and she and the -five whom she had honored with invitations were made to feel the scorn -of some of the older scholars, who were not of the favored few. -Mutterings of discontent, contemptuous shrugs of the shoulders, and -glances which were intended to be withering in the extreme, were -levelled at the obnoxious six, who were highly entertained at the -remarks and actions of some of the girls, and in various little ways -added fuel to the flame. - -Georgie Graham felt herself especially insulted, and did everything in -her power to rouse her companions to a realizing sense of their injured -dignity. - -"Why, really, Georgie," said Mattie Denton, "I don't see as there was -anything so very dreadful in Marion's asking the girls into her room. -She probably had those she wanted, and I don't blame her. I'm sure you -couldn't expect she would invite _you_!" - -"Expect she'd invite me!" retorted Georgie, with a scornful toss of her -head; "she knew very well I wouldn't have gone if she had." - -"Oh, well," quietly replied Mattie, "I suppose, of course, that was the -only reason she didn't ask you." - -"The idea of her having Rachel Drayton," continued Georgie, ignoring -Mattie's remark; "she has hardly treated her decently since she's been -here, and to start out all of a sudden, and be so _dreadfully_ intimate -as to invite her into her room with a _select_ party of friends, is -really too absurd--or would be if it wasn't so easy to see what she is -after!" - -"See what she is after! Why, what in the world do you mean?" asked -Mattie. "I don't imagine she's after anything." - -"Oh, no! I suppose not," scornfully laughed Georgie, tossing her head -still higher. "Of course not! you know the old saying, Mattie, 'None so -blind as those that won't see.'" - -"What in the world do you mean, Georgie Graham? I don't believe you know -yourself!" - -"Don't I, though? Well, now, do you suppose that Marion Berkley, who -holds her head so high, and doesn't condescend to take any notice of us -girls, would have whisked round all of a sudden, and been so very sweet -on Rachel Drayton, if she hadn't an object in view?" - -"You certainly are the strangest creature I ever saw," indignantly -replied Mattie. "As if Marion ever had been sweet on Rachel! No one but -you would ever have thought of such a thing! I presume she invited her, -because she is a friend of Flo's." - -"No such thing," replied Georgie, leaning across the table and speaking -every word slowly and distinctly. "She invited her because she is an -heiress, and Marion intends to toady round her until she gets into her -good graces." - -"I don't believe it," flatly declared Mattie. - -"She told me so herself." - -"What! told you she meant to toady Rachel!--a likely story!" - -"No, told me Rachel was an heiress." - -"Well, suppose she is an heiress, what of that? You know perfectly well -that Marion Berkley is not a girl to _toady_ any one, and you ought to -be ashamed of yourself for saying so. I'm sure every one could see that -she has not treated Rachel very cordially, and if she invited her into -her room it was on Flo's account, and I'm glad for one she showed her -some kindness. No one but _you_ would ever have put a bad motive on such -a simple action." - -"Thank you, Mattie, for defending me," quietly remarked Marion herself, -as she passed through the library where the two girls were sitting, and -went upstairs. - -"There, Miss Graham, I hope you feel better now!" exclaimed Mattie, who -was now thoroughly roused. - -"Pooh! I don't care; 'listeners never hear any good of themselves;' she -shouldn't have been eaves-dropping." - -"That sounds well, Georgie, I must say, coming from you," replied -Mattie. "She was in the school-room, and goodness knows we talked loud -enough. Next time you have any such agreeable insinuations to make -against one of your school-mates, you'll be kind enough to go to some -one else;" and Mattie turned away indignantly, and left Georgie to her -own reflections. - -Finding that she had not been able to rouse any ill-will towards Marion -in Mattie's breast, and inwardly provoked with herself for having -proclaimed Rachel to be an heiress,--a fact which for reasons of her own -she would have preferred to have remain a secret,--she left the hall, -and entered the drawing-room, where most of the girls were congregated, -thinking perhaps that there would be a better field for her operations. - -Poor Marion had been cut to the quick by Georgie's remark; not on -account of the source from which it came, but because she feared, that, -through Georgie's manoeuvring, it would become the general opinion of -the scholars, and in her inmost heart Marion had hoped that she might -not leave the school at the end of the year, without leaving behind her -a better reputation than she had borne before. - -She said nothing of this hope to any one, not even Florence, but had -tried in many little things, principally in her manner, to be more kind -to those of her school-mates who were not in any way attractive to her. - -Forgetful of the feelings of others as she so often appeared, she was -herself extremely sensitive, and nothing could have annoyed her more -than to be accused of toadying any one. She could not bear the idea of -having such an imputation fastened upon her, and she secretly resolved -that in the future she would treat Rachel Drayton with the same -coldness and hauteur she had shown in the past. If she had only known -that that was the very object at which Georgie was aiming! - -She had been thinking all day of Aunt Bettie's happiness, and the -thought of it had greatly contributed to her own; but now all her peace -of mind was quite destroyed. She knew the resolution she had made was -unworthy of herself; but every time she tried to reason against it, the -thought of how her conduct would be misrepresented if she should treat -Rachel with kindness and consideration, as she had made up her mind the -previous night she would do, proved too much for her sensitive pride, -and she determined to hold firmly to her first resolution. - -She knew it was miserably weak in her, to allow herself to be governed -by fear of the misrepresentation of any one whom she held in such utter -contempt as she did Georgie Graham; but she knew that the girl's -influence over some of the scholars was great, and though outwardly she -appeared indifferent to whatever they might think of her, at heart she -really longed for their good opinion. - -A still, small voice whispered in her ear, that if she would only follow -the dictates of her better nature she would certainly be worthy of their -good opinion, and in the sight of One who not only sees, but -understands, everything that passes in our minds, she would be doing -right. But she was not in a mood to listen to any such voice; she left -the room, and running down to the parlor, seated herself at the piano, -and for an hour played for the girls to dance, trying in that way to get -rid of the unpleasant thoughts that would force themselves upon her. - -"What do you think?" exclaimed Mattie Denton, going up to her almost out -of breath, after a furious gallop; "Miss Christine is going to a party." - -"A party!" exclaimed Marion; "when and where?" - -"To-night, at Mrs. Dickenson's; she has a family dinner-party, and a -few friends are invited in the evening; of course I don't suppose it's a -regular _party_, but quite an event for our Miss Christine." - -"I should think as much," replied Marion. "I am so glad she's going! -Wasn't Miss Stiefbach invited?" - -"Oh, yes, of course; but she declined. I suppose she thought it would -never do to leave us alone." - -"No, 'while the cat's away the mice _will_ play,' you know." - -"Yes, I should think the mice played a little last night," laughed -Mattie. - -"So they did; but then the cat was round. Come, I've played enough for -these girls. I mean to ask Miss Christine to let me do her hair. You -come with me, and I'll give you some of the good things the mice -_didn't_ play with." - -"O Marion!" wailed half-a-dozen girls; "aren't you going to play any -more?" - -"No, I can't. I've most banged my fingers off; ask Fannie." - -"But she doesn't play half as well as you do." - -"Much obliged for your flattery; but it's all wasted this time," -answered Marion, as she and Mattie left the room to hunt up Miss -Christine. - -"Sallie, do you know where Miss Christine is?" asked Marion, as they met -Sarah Brown on the stairs. - -"Yes, she's just gone to her room. Do you know she's going to a party!" - -"1 know it; isn't it splendid? I'm going up to ask her to let me do her -hair." - -"I don't believe she'll let you." - -"Yes, she will; I'll coax her into it, see if I don't." - -"Where are you going to do it? Do let me see you." - -"In my room, I guess, so that Flo can see me; but not until after tea." - -After depositing Mattie in her room with a plateful of goodies, Marion -proceeded to that of Miss Christine, which was directly opposite that of -Miss Stiefbach, and upon knocking was immediately told to "Come in" by -Miss Christine, who at that moment was shaking out the folds of a plain, -but handsome black silk. - -"O Miss Christine, isn't it splendid?" cried Marion, clasping her hands; -"you're going to a party!" - -Miss Christine laughed her dear, little, good-natured laugh. "Why, it -seems to be considered a most wonderful event. Sarah has just been up -here, and appears almost as pleased as if she were going herself." - -"Of course she is, and so am I; and I'm going to do your hair." - -"My dear," replied Miss Christine, "it will be too much trouble." - -"Trouble! why, I admire to do it. I always do mamma's when I'm home, and -she wants to look _very_ fine." - -"But you see I don't want to look very fine." - -"Oh, yes, you do; or if you don't I want you to; besides, I promise not -to do it any _fixy_ way,--braid the back _some_thing as you do, only put -it up with a little more style." - -Miss Christine laughed. "Well, as you are so very kind as to offer, I'll -let you; but when will you do it?" - -"Directly after supper, please; that will be time enough. Will you be -kind enough to bring your brushes into my room? I think the light is -better." - -"Very well, it does not make any difference to me. You run out now, and -I will be all ready but putting on my dress, before tea." - -Marion ran back to Mattie, and then went down to communicate the success -of her errand to Sarah and Florence. Immediately after supper they -helped Flo upstairs, and had just got her comfortably settled in the -only easy-chair in the room, with her foot on a cricket, and a shawl -thrown carelessly over it, as Miss Christine came in, brushes in hand. - -Marion seated her with her back to the glass, saying as she did so, "I -don't want you to see yourself until it is all done." - -"Don't make me look too fine," said Miss Christine. - -"No fear of that," replied Marion, as she rapidly undid the massive -braids, and brushed them until they shone like burnished gold. - -"There is some pleasure in doing such hair as yours," said Marion, with -all the enthusiasm of an Auguste; "no need of rats or yarn here." - -For a few moments she worked in silence, as her fingers flew in and out, -until two long shining braids were made; these she twisted gracefully -round at the back of Miss Christine's head, exclaiming as she put in the -last hair-pin:-- - -"There! who would ever suppose she had as much hair as that? Just look -at it, girls; isn't it lovely?" - -"Perfectly lovely!" cried Florence. "Why, Miss Christine, you don't make -any show of it at all." - -"I braid it up as tight as possible, and don't care for anything but to -have it stay firm and smooth." - -"Now, Miss Christine," said Marion, in a tone which seemed to imply that -she expected opposition, but meant to conquer it, "I'm going to crimp -the front." - -"My dear child, are you crazy? Why, I should not think of doing such a -thing!" - -"Of course you wouldn't, because you don't know how; but I'll do it now, -and teach you some other time." - -"Yes, yes," put in both Florence and Mattie; "your hair will be lovely -crimped, and _so_ becoming; do let her!" - -"But I am afraid you'll make me look ridiculous, Marion," said Miss -Christine, in a deprecating tone; "and perhaps you will burn it." - -"Indeed I won't; _your_ hair shan't suffer the way poor Meg's did in -'Little Women,' for I'll do it over a hot slate-pencil, and that _never_ -burnt mine." - -"You don't mean to say you want to friz my hair up the way yours is!" - -"No, indeed; I'll take more hair, and that will do it in large, soft -waves. Now you'll see how lovely I'll make it look;" and Marion already -had the pencil in the gas, and in a moment more was twisting over it a -lock of Miss Christine's hair. "Now for the other side; then I'll comb -it out, and it will be perfectly stunning!" - -"Marion, what an expression!" said Miss Christine, as she sat in -momentary expectation of having her hair singed off her head, or her -forehead blistered. "I wish you would correct yourself of the habit of -using slang words." - -"_Slang!_ why, that's not slang!" - -"Yes, my dear; I think it is." - -"Well, it is certainly a very mild form." - -"Mild or not, it is extremely unladylike, and I hope you will get over -the habit soon, or it will become fixed upon you." - -"Well, I'll try," said Marion, taking a hair-pin out of her mouth; "but -it will almost kill me. Stunning, and scrumptious, and jolly, and lots -of those things, express so much more than any old, prim, stuck-up -words. There! I suppose that's slang too! Well, never mind now, Miss -Christine; when I come back after Christmas vacation, I'm going to be -'Miss Piety promoted;' see if I'm not! Now look at yourself." - -"Why, Marion, haven't you crimped my hair a _little_ too much?" - -"No, indeed!" cried the three girls. - -"You look just as sweet as you can look," said Florence; "it's not a bit -too much, it's only lovely waves." - -"Now I'm to get your dress, and you must put it on in here," said -Marion; and before Miss Christine could utter a word of remonstrance she -was off, and in a moment came back with the dress over her arm, and a -lace collar in her hand. "I wish the skirt was a trifle longer," said -Marion, as she stooped, and pulled it down behind. - -"It's long enough for such a plain body as myself; you want to make a -fashionable lady of me." - -"I wouldn't have you a fashionable lady for the world! but I do want you -to look your very bestest." - -"You have forgotten my pin, dear; it was on the bureau beside my -collar." - -"No I haven't forgotten it," said Marion, who was opening and shutting -various boxes in her upper drawer. "Where in the world is that ribbon? -Here it is. Now, Miss Christine, I don't want you to wear the pin; it's -the same you wear every day, and you ought to have some color about you -somewhere; so I want you to wear this knot of blue satin, and I've got a -band to match. Please do, just for my sake!" - -"Why, Marion, you will make me absurd; you forget what an old maid I -am." - -"Old maid! I should think as much," replied Marion, pinning on the bow -in spite of all remonstrance,--"old maid indeed! You're nothing of the -sort, and what's more you know you never will be;" and Marion gave a -mischievous glance at her teacher. - -"Don't be impertinent, Marion," replied Miss Christine; but "old maid" -as she called herself, she could not keep a very girlish blush from -glowing on her cheeks at her pupil's words. - -"I think you are just as lovely as you can be!" exclaimed Marion. "Oh! I -forgot; the band for your hair;--there! now you're complete." - -"Why, Miss Christine, you'll hardly know yourself," said Florence; "just -look in the glass. Those crimps make you look five years younger." - -"I'm going down to get Sallie," said Marion. "Don't put your things on -yet, please; she wants to see you." - -Marion ran off, returning in a few moments with Sarah Brown, who, the -moment she saw her teacher, threw open her arms, and gave her a most -emphatic hug. - -"Now you look just as you ought. I'm perfectly delighted you're going, -and your hair is beautiful,--that band is so becoming." - -"That is all Marion's doings; in fact, I owe all my 'fine feathers' to -her, and without them I should not be such a 'fine bird' as you seem to -think me;" and Miss Christine laughed her dear, little laugh, that her -scholars loved so well, and glanced affectionately at the group of -admiring girls about her. - -"You are not a 'fine bird' at all," exclaimed Sarah, in her most -enthusiastic way; "you are just a dear, white dove." - -"O Sarah! a white dove in black silk and blue satin--rather -incongruous," said Miss Christine. - -The girls all joined Miss Christine in her laugh; but nevertheless -protested that Sarah's simile was not a bit exaggerated. - -"Well now, Miss Christine," said Marion, "if you are ready, I'll go down -and tell Biddy to put her things on." - -"Biddy isn't going with me," replied Miss Christine, who seemed very -busily engaged enveloping her head in a cloud, bringing it so far over -her face that not a vestige of her hair was visible. - -"Why, you're not going alone?" - -"No; M. Béranger was invited, and kindly offered to escort me," said -Miss Christine, bending her head to fasten her glove. - -"Oh!" said Marion; but she gave a sly glance at her companions, which -was not observed by Miss Christine, whose glove-buttons seemed to be -giving her a great deal of trouble. - -"Now, good-night, girls. I thank you a thousand times for all you have -done for me, Marion;" then, as she kissed them all, "I don't believe -there ever was a teacher had such affectionate scholars." - -"You mean there never were scholars that had such a perfectly lovely -teacher!" cried Sarah Brown, loud enough to be heard in the hall below. - -"'Sh!" said Miss Christine. "Monsieur is down there; he will hear you." - -"I guess it won't be any news to him," whispered Marion, as they hung -over the banisters watching the proceedings below. "Do you know, Sallie, -I believe she pulled that cloud over her head on purpose so that Miss -Stiefbach wouldn't see she had her hair crimped. I dare say if she had, -she'd have given her a lecture, when she got back, on the follies and -vanities of this world." - -"I dare say," replied Sarah. "She'd like to make Miss Christine just -such a stiff old maid as she is herself; but she won't succeed." - -"Not a bit of it," replied Marion. - -When Miss Christine came home from the party, and stood before her glass -preparatory to undressing, if she had been one of her own scholars she -would have said she had a "splendid time." Evening companies, even as -small as the one she had just attended, were something in which she -rarely indulged; in fact, she had often remained at home from -preference, sending her sister in her place, thinking she was much more -likely to shine in society than herself. But this night she had really -enjoyed herself. It certainly was very pleasant to know she looked -better than usual; and if the evidence of her own eyes, and the -admiration of her scholars, had not proved that, there had been some one -else who testified to the fact in a few respectful, but very earnest -words. - -As she unpinned the blue ribbons, she wondered if it had been foolish -and undignified in her to wear them; but the recollection of the loving -girls who had urged her to do so filled her heart with delight, and she -went to bed feeling that the affection of those young hearts was worth -more than all the elegance of manner, and extreme dignity, for which her -sister was noticeable, which, however it might inspire the awe and -respect of her pupils, never won their love. - -The next morning the girls noticed that Miss Christine's crimps were not -entirely "out." When she brushed her hair that morning, her first -impulse had been to straighten out the pretty waves with a dash of cold -water; then she thought, to please Marion, she would leave it as it was. -I wonder if it occurred to her that the only lesson for the day was -French? - - - - -CHAPTER XVI. - -THE HOLIDAYS. - - -The days and weeks at Miss Stiefbach's school quickly succeeded each -other, all passing very much as those I have already described, and the -Christmas holidays were close at hand. - -Shortly after Thanksgiving there had been another musicale, at which -Marion played without dropping her music, or making any mistakes, and -won universal admiration for the delicacy of her touch, and above all -for the depth and beauty of her expression. Not that so-called -expression which has lately become the fashion, which seems to consist -in playing half the piece in pp., rushing from that to ff., with a -rapidity which certainly astonishes the hearer, if it does nothing more; -but carefully noting the crescendos and diminuendos, which are to music -what the lights and shadows are to painting, and rendering the whole in -a manner that appealed to the heart rather than the senses. - -Marion was gradually, and without any noticeable effort on her part, -obtaining a different footing in the school. The girls who had admired -but feared her might now be said to only admire; for the cutting -sarcasms, the withering scorn, which had formerly led them to fear her, -were now very rarely observable in either her conversation or her -manners. - -Once or twice some of the scholars had spoken of the difference in -Marion's behavior, and, as one of them expressed it, "wondered what had -come over the spirit of her dreams;" but the answer to the query was -generally accepted as a fact, "that it was only one of her odd freaks, -and very likely would not last long." - -But it was not one of her freaks; far from it. A change was coming over -her whole character; slowly but surely it was approaching; manifesting -itself at present in certain ways, or perhaps not so much in certain -ways as in the absence of certain other ways, which had before been the -dark spots in a nature which God had intended to make broad, intense, -and noble. God had intended?--no, not that; for what could God intend -and not perform? The nature was there, heart and soul bearing the -impress of the Maker's hand; but like a beautiful garden having within -its borders flowers of surpassing beauty and luxurious growth, but -twined and intertwined with rank weeds and choking briers, which the -gardener must clear away,--not tearing them apart with rough and -ruthless hands, and by so doing killing the tender plant; but -delicately, carefully, as a mother would tend her babe; untwining -tendril after tendril, leaf after leaf, propping and sustaining the -flowers as he works, until at last the weeds lay withered and broken, -but a few moments trailing their useless branches on the ground, ere the -gardener with a firm grasp wrenches them from the soil. His hands may be -scratched and bleeding from contact with the briers; but what of that? -If the plants are rescued; if they raise up their drooping heads, and -gladden his eyes with the sight of their buds and blossoms, do you -suppose he will murmur or complain for any wounds he may have received? -Not he! The weeds and briers are gone, the blooming plants are -saved,--that is enough. - -Such a garden was Marion's heart, and she had already commenced the work -of the gardener; but so slowly did she proceed that sometimes she was -almost willing to let the work go, so hopeless did it seem to her; only -a few tendrils untwined, only a few leaves saved from the briers whose -roots as yet remained untouched. But such moments of discouragement did -not come to her often, or if they did, she tried not to yield to them. -The great trouble with her was the determination with which she held to -her resolution in regard to Rachel; she still treated her with the same -coldness, the same formal politeness, which she had shown her on her -first arrival; she had not succeeded in quieting the still, small voice, -which persisted in whispering in her ear; but though she could not help -hearing it, she resolutely forbore to heed it. - -Poor Florence had built high hopes on the easy, friendly manner with -which Marion had treated Rachel the night of the famous Thanksgiving -party, and had thought the pain she suffered with her foot but a small -price to pay for the bringing together of her old friend and her new; -but she had seen those hopes vanish one by one. As the friendship -between herself and Rachel increased, Marion's coldness became the more -distressing to both parties; for although Marion had never abated one -jot of her affection for Florence, there was a certain barrier between -them, which each from her heart deplored, but which seemed destined for -the present to remain uncrossed. - -But, my dear reader, I'm afraid you think I am growing fearfully prosy, -and if you don't I am sure I do; so I will hurry on with my story. - -It was the 23d of December, and the young ladies of Miss Stiefbach's -school were starting off en masse for their various homes; indeed, some -living at the West had already gone, having been called for by parents -or friends, and not a few by their older brothers on their way home from -college, who were not at all averse to spending one night in "that -stupid old town," for the sake of a peep at the pretty girls of the -school. - -Marion Berkley, Mattie Denton, the two Thayers, Florence Stevenson, and -Rachel Drayton, all went by the Boston train, and I don't believe a -merrier party ever started on a journey together. - -Florence, finding that Rachel was intending to spend the holidays at the -school, had written to her father, and obtained his permission to take -her new friend home with her. Rachel had at first demurred, dreading to -again encounter strangers; but Florence had plead so earnestly, -representing to her how forlorn and stupid it would be for her at the -school, at the same time promising that she should not see any company, -or participate in any gayety,--"they would just have a quiet time at -home and enjoy each other,"--that she had at last yielded. - -It was a most excellent thought of Florence, for anniversaries of any -kind were likely to prove very trying to Rachel; making her realize more -forcibly than ever the loss of her father,--a loss to which she had -tried to reconcile herself; but, strive hard as she would, it was ever -present in her mind, and if she had been left in that great house, with -none of the pupils with whose laughter, fun, and frolic the walls had so -often resounded, it is probable that the melancholy which had at first -seemed fixed upon her, but which the presence of so many bright young -lives around her had done much towards dispelling, would have returned -to her with double force, and taken a stronger hold upon her than ever. - -When Florence had communicated her intention to Marion, she answered not -a word; but no one knew what a hard struggle it was for her to keep -silent. - -Christmas vacation was always looked forward to by them both, with -greater anticipations of pleasure than any other, for Florence always -spent several days in the city with Marion in a round of pleasure. Not -balls and parties, but theatres, concerts, picture-galleries, etc., were -visited; in fact, every new thing that came to the city that week, and -was worth seeing, Mr. Berkley always made it a point to take the girls -to see, and those good times were talked over for weeks and weeks after -they were back at school. - -Marion had been looking forward to the holidays with more than her usual -eagerness, for then she thought she and Florence would be together just -as they used to be, without any barrier whatever between them; but when -she heard that Rachel would spend the vacation with Florence, she knew, -of course, that there would be an end to all the merry-makings; for even -if she and Rachel had been on good terms, the latter would not of course -have participated in such gayety. - -The girls were all met at the depot by their respective papas, mammas or -"big brothers," and after great demonstrations of delight at meeting, -and good-byes, and "Come round soon," etc., from the girls as they -parted, they all separated on their way to their various homes. - -"Marion," asked Mr. Berkley at the breakfast-table the next morning, as -he helped his daughter to the best chop on the platter, "who was that -young lady with Florence last night?" - -"Miss Drayton," replied Marion, with the slightest possible change of -manner,--"Rachel Drayton." - -"Rachel Drayton. That's rather an uncommon name. I don't think I ever -heard of a real bona fide Rachel before; handsome, isn't she?" - -"No, not exactly; perhaps she would be if she were well." - -"She's uncommon-looking," continued Mr. Berkley, as he helped himself to -another slice of toast; "didn't you notice her, Margaret?--tall, with -jet-black hair and eyes. Rachel is just the name for her." - -"I noticed her; in fact, Florence introduced her, but I was attracted -towards her first by the unusually sad expression of her face. I never -saw it so noticeable in one so young; and I suppose she is young, though -she looks much older than you or Florence." - -"She is only seventeen," replied Marion, busily engaged in giving -Charley sips of her coffee. - -"Oh, well," said Mr. Berkley in his hearty way, "we'll soon get rid of -that sad look; we'll have her in with Flo, and I guess after she's seen -Warren once or twice she'll learn how to laugh. What do you think, -Marion?" - -"It won't be any use for you to invite her, papa. She wouldn't come; -she's in deep mourning,--she lost her father just before she came to -school." - -"Poor child!" said Mrs. Berkley, whose heart always warmed towards any -one in trouble; "poor child! Where does her mother live?" - -"She has no mother either; she died when Rachel was a baby. In fact, she -has no relations at all except an uncle, who has been abroad for ten -years, and will not be at home until school closes next spring." - -"Well, I do pity the poor thing!" said Mr. Berkley, who, although death -had never robbed him of his own dear ones, felt the deepest sympathy for -all those who had been so stricken. "I think it is one of the saddest -cases I ever knew. I suppose Flo--bless her heart!--could sympathize -with her even more than the rest of you, having lost her mother too." - -"She and Rachel are great friends," replied Marion, wishing the subject -would ever be changed. - -"Is she well provided for?" asked Mr. Berkley. - -"She is immensely wealthy," replied Marion; "will have two or three -millions in her own right, when she is twenty-one." - -"Whew!" exclaimed Mr. Berkley; "pretty well provided for, I should -think. Well, I'm glad of it; she has had trouble enough already, without -having to worry about money matters. Marion, have another chop?" - -"No, I thank you, papa, I've had quite enough," replied Marion, rousing -herself, and speaking with her usual energy, the absence of which had -not escaped her mother's ear. "How soon will Fred be home? I'm crazy to -see him." - -"In about an hour, I expect," replied Mrs. Berkley; "he is quite as -anxious to see you as you are to see him." - -"I tell you what, Mab," said Mr. Berkley, "Fred is a pretty important -member of society since he got into college; you ought to hear him talk -about 'the men of our class;' it makes me feel old." - -"Oh! he'll get over that," laughed Marion. "I suppose he feels -particularly grand, because he's younger than most of his class." - -"Yes, I dare say," said Mrs. Berkley, with a little motherly anxiety in -her voice. "I wish he had waited a year; it would have been much better -for him." - -"Oh, nonsense!" answered Mr. Berkley, as he pushed his chair back from -the table; "the sooner he sows his 'wild oats' the better; besides, he's -sound enough, never fear. But I forgot, Marion; I'm getting to be almost -too old a beau for you; so I told Fred to bring some one home from -college to pass the vacation. He has invited a Mr. Thornton; he took a -great fancy to Fred, though _he is_ a junior; so you can't turn up your -nose at him." - -"I don't want to turn up my nose at him; but junior or not, he will not -be my escort. I'll hand him over to mamma; but wherever I go, you'll -have to take me, do you understand?" - -"Oh, yes, I understand perfectly. That all sounds very pretty, no doubt; -but you wait till you see Arthur Thornton. Such _heavenly_ eyes!" -exclaimed Mr. Berkley, disengaging himself from Marion, and clasping his -hands in the most enthusiastic manner, "and such a _magnificent_ figure! -and such a _stunning_ mustache, and such--such a--such a surprising -appetite!" - -"Now, papa," said Marion, laughing at her father's romantic gestures, -and the very unromantic conclusion of his sentence, "you know I never -rave so over young men; it's so silly!" - -"Now, mamma, just hear her," said Mr. Berkley, turning to his wife; "she -never raves over young men; oh, no! Wasn't little Bob Jones the -_loveliest_ dancer she ever saw? and didn't Walter Hargate sing the -'rainy day' so as to make one weep _oceans_ of tears? and wasn't Jack -Richards' profile 'enough to make one _wild_'? and wasn't--" - -"Stop! stop!" cried Marion, jumping up and putting her hand over her -father's mouth; "you shan't say another word; it isn't fair. That was -nearly two years ago, when I was young and foolish; now I am almost -eighteen, and, as Fred says, 'I'm going to come the heavy dignity.'" - -"All right," replied her father, as he gave her a kiss; "only don't come -it over me, that's all. Here they are now! Marion! Marion!" he cried, as -she broke from him, and made a rush for the front door, "that's very -undignified, very undignified indeed; you should receive them in the -parlor." - -But Marion paid no heed to his admonition, and in a moment more had her -arms round Fred's neck, utterly oblivious to the fact that a young -six-footer stood behind him. - -"Come in, Marion; what do you mean by keeping Mr. Thornton standing out -there in the cold?" said Mr. Berkley, with a mischievous twinkle in his -eyes. "I'm surprised at you! Come in, Mr. Thornton; glad to see you; my -daughter, _Miss_ Berkley." - -Mr. Thornton raised his hat, and bent that "magnificent figure" in the -most profound salutation, while Marion responded with a bow, which, as -her father whispered to her, "was dignity itself." - -After the usual bustle accompanying an arrival was over, and some little -time had been spent in chatting, Mr. Berkley said:-- - -"Come, Fred, you and Mr. Thornton must be hungry; go out and get some -breakfast; we have had ours, but Marion will do the honors." - -"We breakfasted before we left," answered Fred. "I knew we should be -late; but we'll do double duty at dinner." - -"I'm sorry for that," whispered Mr. Berkley to Marion, as he handed her -his meerschaum to fill, "for I wanted to prove the last part of my -description. I know you've accepted the first part already as perfect." - -"Hush, papa! don't be silly," answered Marion, as she dipped her fingers -into the tobacco-box. - -"Miss Berkley, can you fill a pipe?" asked Mr. Thornton. - -"Why, of course she can," said her father; "she's filled mine ever since -she was so high. I should have given up smoking long ago if it hadn't -been for her." - -"That's all nonsense, papa; you'll never stop smoking till the day of -your death; so I suppose I shall always fill your pipe." - -"Miss Berkley," said Mr. Thornton, with a graceful little bow, "I wish -while I am here I might be allowed the pleasure of having _my_ pipe -filled by those fair fingers." - -"I beg your pardon, Mr. Thornton," said Marion, with the least possible -toss of her head; "but I never fill any one's but papa's." - -Mr. Thornton bowed, flushing slightly as he rose to follow Fred to his -room, mentally resolving never to waste pretty speeches again on that -girl; and Mr. Berkley observed as he left the room, "A perfect scorcher, -Marion! If you keep that dignity up for the rest of his visit, there -won't be a piece of him left as big as a chicken's wing." - -The following morning was as bright and beautiful as ever a Christmas -morning could be, and indoors the merry party at Mr. Berkley's was quite -in keeping with the weather; such strife as to who could wish "Merry -Christmas" first, such an exhibition of presents, and such general -jollification, could only be found where every one was in the best of -spirits, and all determined to enjoy themselves to the utmost. - -The Christmas gifts had been arranged by Mr. and Mrs. Berkley the -previous night in the parlor, where the door was kept fastened until -directly after breakfast, when Mr. Berkley unlocked it, and let in the -whole family. Marion was in a perfect state of excitement over her -presents, quite forgetting the talked-of dignity in her admiration of -them; and the charming way in which she thanked Mr. Thornton for a -bouquet, bearing his card, quite did away with the effect of her hauteur -of the previous day. From her father and mother she received what she -had long expressed a wish for,--"Goethe's Female Characters illustrated -by Kaulbach," a book which her intense love for art enabled her to fully -appreciate; from Fred a beautiful amethyst ring; a pretty necktie from -Charley, which, as he said, "he choosed hisself;" a bust of Clytie from -her Uncle George; besides gloves, bows, embroidered handkerchiefs, etc., -too numerous to mention, from various aunts and cousins. - -"But, Marion, there is something else," said her mother; "lift up that -handkerchief and see what is under it." - -"Oh, is that for me? I didn't understand," said Marion, as she took up -the handkerchief that hid something from view. "O mamma, how perfect! -Isn't it lovely? She couldn't have given me anything I would have liked -half so well;" and the tears started to her eyes, for the present was -from Florence, and Marion had thought she had nothing from her, and was -cut to the quick; for they had always exchanged Christmas gifts ever -since they were children. This one was an exquisitely colored photograph -of Florence herself, beautifully framed in blue velvet and gilt. - -"She had it taken just before she went back to school," said Mrs. -Berkley, "and I colored it for her; isn't the frame lovely? She had it -made to order. I never saw one like it." - -"It is lovely; just exactly like her;" and Marion looked fondly at the -eyes that smiled into hers with such a sweet, affectionate expression, -and as she did so thoughts of the past and present flitted quickly -through her mind, and further speech just then was quite impossible. - -But it is useless to attempt a description of each of those many merry -days; they all passed only too quickly. Mr. Thornton proved himself to -be a very valuable addition to the home circle, as well as a most hearty -participator in all their schemes for going about here, there, and -everywhere. During the holidays Mr. and Mrs. Berkley received several -invitations to large parties, in which 'Miss Berkley' was included; but -all were declined, for Mrs. Berkley had no idea of having Marion go -into society for more than a year yet. Her father had said, in his -jolly, easy way, "Oh, let her go, it won't hurt her; why, you and I did -most of our courting before you were as old as she is." - -"I can't help it, my dear; because you and I were foolish is no reason -we should let her be," replied her mother. "I have no objections to her -going to the little 'Germans' given by girls of her age; but regular -balls and parties I can't allow." - -But Marion was not at all disturbed about the party question; she was -enjoying her vacation to the utmost. At first she missed Florence very -much. She had been out to see her once or twice. The first time she saw -her alone for a few moments, and thanked her warmly for her photograph, -receiving Florence's thanks in return for her present of a lovely -locket, and promising to have her own picture taken to put in it. - -"Marion," said Mrs. Berkley one day, "don't you intend to invite -Florence and Miss Drayton in here to spend the night?" - -"I don't think Rachel would come, if I asked her, mamma. You know we are -pretty gay now that Mr. Thornton is here." - -"But you need not ask any one else, and I don't believe she would mind -him;--he seems like one of the family." - -"I don't think she would come, mamma." - -"Very well, my dear, you know best;" and Mrs. Berkley did not again -refer to the subject. She felt instinctively that Marion did not -entertain the same friendship for Rachel that Florence did; but she said -nothing about it, never wishing to force herself into her daughter's -confidence, knowing well enough that, if she waited, that confidence -would come of its own accord. - -Everything must come to an end at last, and so did those Christmas -holidays, and Marion went back to school, and Fred and Mr. Thornton to -college; the latter young gentleman, if we might judge from a little -scrap of conversation he had with his chum on his return, not quite -heart-whole. - -"You see, Sam, I went home with Berkley more to please him than myself. -To be sure I knew I should have a stupid time loafing round here, and I -had no idea of going home; for the house is all shut up while the old -gentleman and mother are in Europe. So I thought, as Berk really seemed -to want me, I'd go, and I tell you I never had a jollier time in my -life;" and Arthur Thornton watched the wreaths of smoke as they curled -about his head, quite lost in recollections of the past two weeks. - -"What did you do?" asked his companion, knocking the ashes out of his -pipe. - -"Oh! went to the theatre, museum, concerts,--everything! Stayed at home -once or twice, and had a 'candy-scrape.' It's the best place in the -world to visit, and the most delightful family." - -"All of whom unite, I suppose, in worshipping Master Freddy." - -"Not by a long shot!" replied Arthur Thornton, energetically; "_he_ -unites with the rest of the family in worshipping at quite another -shrine." - -"And that is--" - -"His sister Marion; the most perfectly bewitching girl I ever saw in my -life!" - -"Arty, my boy, has it come to that?" solemnly asked his companion, as he -removed his pipe from his mouth, and looked at his friend with a face -expressive of the deepest dejection; "do you mean to say that you've -surrendered, and gone over to the enemy?" - -"I haven't gone over at all; but she certainly is the best specimen of a -girl I ever saw! None of your sentimental, simpering kind! I just wish -you'd seen her when I tried to make a pretty speech to her; didn't she -toss her head up, and flash those eyes at me? By Jove! I never felt so -small in my life!" - -"If she has the power of producing that effect upon you, she must be -something fearful," replied his friend, coolly surveying the six feet of -human frame which lay stretched on the sofa before him. "She flashes her -eyes, does she?" - -"Doesn't she? and such eyes!--great, dark-brown eyes with long black -lashes; and such hair!--golden hair! Do you hear? golden hair and dark -eyes, and--" - -"My dear fellow," replied Sam, languidly waving his hand before him, -"forbear! I entreat you to forbear; half of that description is enough -to do away with the quieting influences of this pipe; if you should -continue, I don't know what would become of me, to say nothing of -yourself. I see that you are lost to me forever. Farewell, my once -loved, never-to-be-forgotten friend; I see that you are--in for it." - -"Don't be a fool, Sam, and just wait till you've seen her yourself." - -"Until that blissful time arrives," replied his friend, rising to leave -the room, "I will occupy all my spare hours in hunting up an armor that -will be proof against the 'flashes' of those eyes." - -"You're an old idiot!" shouted Arthur; but Sam had dodged back, and -slammed the door, just in time to escape being hit by a boot-jack, which -his friend threw at him. - -To tell the truth, Mr. Thornton was just the least bit in the world -touched. Marion had done her best to entertain her brother's friend, and -indeed that was not a very severe task, when the individual in question -was a handsome young fellow, intelligent and agreeable, and not -possessing quite the usual amount of conceit that young men of his age -are troubled with. In fact, she succeeded so well in making herself -agreeable to him, that Fred told his mother in confidence, that "it was -easy enough to see Thornton was dead smashed with Mab, and 'twouldn't be -a bad thing for her if she should fancy him, for he was a 'regular -brick,' and hadn't he got the rocks!" - -For which inelegant expressions his mother most seriously reproved him, -at the same time saying that she thought Marion had taken a fancy to Mr. -Thornton, and that was all she ever would care for him; and it was very -silly to be talking about anything serious now, when she was nothing but -a child. - -Of course when the scholars all met again at school nothing was talked -of but the vacation; presents were shown and admired, and for days and -days after their return, as soon as study hours were over, little knots -of girls might be seen scattered all over the house, chattering away as -fast as their tongues could go, rehearsing again and again the delights -of the holidays. - -The first thing Marion did was to make a visit to Aunt Bettie's to thank -the good woman for her present of a barrel of as rosy-cheeked apples as -ever grew. She found the old lady well and happy, rocking away in the -sunshine, while Jemima made bread in the pantry, singing in a clear, -bright voice, which gave excellent proof of her recovered health and -contentment. - -She carried Jemima a couple of bright ribbons, and a pretty embroidered -linen collar, and Aunt Bettie a neat lace cap, which unexpected gifts -quite overpowered them, and caused Aunt Bettie to remark, "Seemed as how -some folks was a-doin' and a-doin' all the time, and could never do -enuff;" which remark, Marion declared, as she ran out of the house, -certainly did not apply to her. - - - - -CHAPTER XVII. - -MARION'S MIDNIGHT WALK. - - -It was a clear, cold day, in the latter part of February; the ground had -been covered with snow ever since Christmas week, and seemed likely to -be so for some time yet; even quite a heavy rain had failed to melt away -King Winter's snowy mantle, for being followed by a freezing night it -had only served to crust everything with a thin coating of ice, and set -upon the old fellow's head a crown, which glittered and sparkled in the -sunlight rivalling in beauty that of many a lesser monarch. - -A sleigh was standing at the gate of the school, and Martin, the -Irishman who sawed the wood, built the fires, and did all the little odd -jobs generally of the establishment, stood with the reins in his hands; -evidently very much pleased with his new position as coachman. - -Miss Stiefbach was going away, fifteen miles into the country, to see a -friend who was very ill, and had sent her a very pressing letter, asking -her to come to her as soon as possible; and the most feasible way for -her to get there and back seemed to be, to hire a horse and sleigh in -the village, take Martin as driver, and return the next day. - -Nothing but the very urgent request of a sick friend would have called -Miss Stiefbach away from school just at this time; for the cook was sick -abed with a terribly sore throat; the laundress could hardly speak, on -account of a bad cold, and Bridget, the housemaid, was almost worn out -with doing a part of everybody's work, for the last three days. But -Miss Christine begged her sister to go; she would get the older girls to -help her with the extra work, and as it was only for one night, there -certainly seemed no danger but what they could get along without her; so -at two o'clock Miss Stiefbach started. Marion, Julia, and Sarah offered -their services to wash the dinner-dishes, and with sleeves rolled up, -and long aprons on, went into the business in earnest, laughing and -chattering like magpies. While they were at work Rachel Drayton came -into the room for a glass of water, and Sarah Brown, looking up, -exclaimed:-- - -"Why, Rachel, what in the world is the matter with you? You look like a -ghost!" - -"Only one of my headaches," said Rachel, making a feeble attempt to -smile. "I've had it all day." - -"But you are hoarse; you can hardly speak," said Julia. - -"Don't say anything about it; but my throat is terribly sore. Please -don't tell Miss Christine; there are enough sick in the house already -without me." - -"But you ought to do something for it, indeed you ought," said Sarah. "I -wish I could tell you of something; don't you know of anything for a -sore throat, Marion?" - -"I always gargle mine with salt and water," answered Marion -indifferently, without looking up from the buffet-drawer, where she was -arranging the silver. - -"Well, do try it, Rachel," said Julia; "it can't hurt you certainly; -here's some salt. How much do you put in a tumbler of water, Marion?" - -"I really don't know," replied Marion, still busy with the silver; "I -never measured it." - -"Well, can't you give me any idea?" asked Julia, rather impatiently. - -"Don't trouble Miss Berkley," said Rachel, in a voice which she tried -in vain to render steady, for, sick and suffering as she was, Marion's -indifference cut her to the heart. She turned away to leave the room, -the blinding tears rushed to her eyes, her head swam, and she staggered -forward, as Sarah cried: "Quick, Julia! catch her; she's fainting!" - -Marion started up in time to see Rachel, with a deathly white face and -closed eyes, stretch out her hands helplessly before her, as Julia and -Sarah caught her in their arms, and saved her from falling. - -The sight of that white face struck Marion with horror; but still she -did not move from the spot where she had stood ever since Rachel entered -the room; it seemed as if she _could_ not move, until Sarah exclaimed:-- - -"Marion, hand me a glass of water, for Heaven's sake; she'll faint -away." - -"No, I shan't," said Rachel, in a feeble voice, trying to raise her -head; "it was only a sudden dizziness. I often have it when my head -aches, only to-day it was worse than usual." - -"Lie still there," said Julia, as they led her to the sofa, "and keep -perfectly quiet; I'll go call Miss Christine." - -"No! no!" cried Rachel, jumping up, but sinking back again as the sudden -movement sent her head whizzing round; "please don't; she has gone up to -give cook her medicine, and indeed I shall be better soon." - -"I won't call her, if you'll promise to go to bed as soon as you are -able to walk." - -"Well, I will," answered Rachel. "I can go in a few minutes; would you -mind asking Florence to come here?" - -Sarah ran off to get Florence, and Julia sat down by Rachel, bathing her -head with cold water. Marion went on quietly putting away the dishes; -only now and then glancing at the white face in such fearful contrast -with its surroundings of black hair and dress. - -Florence came in, and, as soon as Rachel was able, helped her up to her -room, where she laid down on the bed without undressing, hoping to feel -well enough to go down to tea; but that was out of the question; her -head grew worse instead of better, and at last Florence insisted upon -calling Miss Christine. - -When Miss Christine came up, she told Marion to take Rachel into Miss -Stiefbach's room, and help her to undress at once, while she went to get -some hot water in which to bathe her feet. Very soon Rachel was in bed, -and begged Miss Christine to "go away and not mind her, for she knew she -should feel all right in the morning." - -But of this Miss Christine did not feel at all sure; the deadly pallor -of Rachel's face had been succeeded by a bright red spot in each cheek, -and the palms of her hands were burning hot. Leaving Florence to sit -with her friend, she went down to attend to her other duties. She went -into the dining-room to set the tea-table; but Marion and Sarah were -there before her. - -"How is Rachel?" asked Sarah; "do you think she is going to be ill?" - -"I hope not; indeed I think not, for you know she often has these -dreadful headaches; still she has a bad sore throat, and seems feverish. -I almost wish Miss Stiefbach had not gone." - -"It was too bad," said Sarah; "just now when everybody is sick! I don't -see why that lady had to send for her!" - -"Well, my dear, she could not possibly know that it was not convenient -for us to have Miss Stiefbach away, and she wanted to see her about -something very important; it could not be helped. I dare say everything -will come out right in the end. I must go now and help Bridget, or she -will get discouraged. O Marion," she said, as she was about to leave the -room, "will you please sleep with Rose? She'll be afraid to sleep alone, -and I have put Rachel into Miss Stiefbach's room, where I can be near -her if she should want anything in the night." - -"Oh, I don't want to," replied Marion, much to Miss Christine's -surprise. "Rose kicks awfully. Ask Florence." - -"Will she be any less likely to kick Florence than you?" asked Miss -Christine, quietly. - -"No, I suppose not; but you know Florence won't mind, as long as it's -for Rachel." - -"And you would, I am sorry to say." - -"I suppose it's no use for me to offer," said Sarah, "for that would -leave Jennie all alone, and she's an awful coward." - -"No, I thank you," said Miss Christine, as she left the room; "I will -ask Florence." - -Marion said nothing; she went on setting the table and talking to Sarah, -never in any way alluding to Rachel, and doing her best not to think of -her, or reproach herself for having treated her so unkindly; but no -matter what she did, she could not stifle the voice of conscience, and -its whisperings were far from pleasant to hear. - -That night, as she went up to bed, her better nature prompted her to -step into Rachel's room, and ask her if she felt any better; but "No," -she said to herself, "she will think it's all hypocrisy, and I won't do -it." - -She hurried and undressed herself as quickly as possible, so that she -was already in bed when Florence came in to get her night-clothes to -carry into Rose's room; but she did not speak or open her eyes. Florence -moved round as quietly as possible, getting her things together, and -then stepping to the bedside stooped down and kissed her friend; but -Marion did not speak or move; so Florence, thinking she was asleep, -turned out the gas, and left the room. When she was gone Marion buried -her head in the pillow, and wept bitter, bitter tears. - -It was a long time before she went to sleep, and then her rest was -disturbed by frightful dreams; she thought the house was on fire; that -she was safe, but Rachel and Florence were in the attic, where no one -could reach them, and they must burn to death while she stood looking -on. - -She awoke with a start, to see a bright light in the entry; springing -out of bed, she ran to the door just as Miss Christine, with a candle in -her hand, and a wrapper over her night-dress was passing by. - -"O Miss Christine," she cried, in an excited whisper, "is the house on -fire?" - -"No, indeed, dear, nothing of the sort; but Rachel is very ill, and I am -going down to make her some lemonade. Won't you please put something on, -and go in and sit with her? I cannot bear to leave her alone." - -Marion did not stop to answer; but running back into her room, threw a -shawl over her shoulders, and hastily thrusting her feet into her -slippers, hurried into Miss Stiefbach's room. There was only a dim light -in the chamber. Marion went up to the bed, and, leaning over, called -Rachel by name; but she made no answer, only moaned feebly, and tossed -her arms over her head, rolling her great black eyes from side to side. - -"Rachel," said Marion, thoroughly frightened, "don't you know me?" - -The voice seemed to rouse her, for she started up, and looked fixedly at -Marion; then putting her hands before her eyes, as if to shut out some -horrible sight, she cried, in a hoarse voice, "Go away! go away! you -hate me! you hate me! you're going to kill me!" - -Marion shuddered, for she knew Rachel must be delirious; she tried to -soothe her, but the sound of her voice only seemed to make her more -excited. She seemed to have a vague idea who she was, and that she was -there to do her harm. Once she sat up in bed, and, laying her hand on -Marion's arm, said in the most grieved, beseeching tone, "What makes you -hate me so? I never did you any harm." - -Marion, with tears in her eyes was about to speak, when suddenly the -tender, supplicating expression left Rachel's face, and one of intense -horror and grief took its place, as she grasped Marion's arm tightly -with one hand, stretching out her other arm, and pointing into a dark -corner of the room, exclaiming, in a voice that made her companion -shudder from head to foot: "See! see! you see they're taking it off! -they're taking it off! don't you see? It's my father! O father! father!" -she wailed, stretching out her arm as if entreating some person seen -only by herself, "don't leave me; for there'll be no one to love me -then. I'm all alone! all alone! all alone!" - -Marion's tears fell thick and fast, as the exhausted girl threw herself -back on the pillow and sobbed aloud; every unkind thought, every cold -glance, and every act of neglect which she had shown the poor, desolate -creature beside her pictured itself before her. Remorse was doing its -work, and her greatest fear was that Rachel would die while yet -delirious, and before she had an opportunity to ask her forgiveness, and -atone by her kindness in the future for her neglect of the past. But -although these thoughts passed rapidly through her mind, they were but -as the undercurrent of her immediate anxiety; it seemed as if Miss -Christine would never come, and Rachel still moaned and sobbed in a -heart-rending manner. - -When Miss Christine did at last enter the room, bringing the lemonade, -Marion hurried towards her, and whispered:-- - -"Oh, do you think she's going to die? Can't we do anything for her? -Can't _I_ do anything?" - -"I think she seems very ill indeed," replied Miss Christine, going to -the bedside, and laying a cloth wet in cold water on Rachel's head; then -coming back to Marion, "Will you stay with her while I go for the -doctor?" - -"Can't you send Bridget?" - -"No, the poor thing is half worn out with all she has had to do this -week. I would not call her up for anything. If you will stay with -Rachel, and keep changing the cloth on her head, I will go, for I dare -not wait until morning." - -"O Miss Christine!" exclaimed Marion, in a trembling whisper, "I can't -stay; indeed I can't, and hear her rave about her father; it is -dreadful! it goes right through me; you stay and _I'll_ go." - -"Marion, do you know it is almost midnight? You will be afraid." - -"You were not." - -"No, because I'm not nervous." - -"Well, I won't be nervous; if there's no danger for you, there is none -for me. I shall go." - -"Any _real_ danger I do not think there is, but of imaginary danger a -plenty, and if you should get seriously frightened I never should -forgive myself." - -"But I won't be frightened or nervous," said Marion, resolutely. "Here, -feel my hand; when Rachel was raving a moment ago, I _could_ not keep it -still; now it is as steady as yours. O Miss Christine, if you only -_knew_, you would let me go." - -"My dear child," said Miss Christine, laying her hand tenderly on -Marion's cheek, "I _do_ know, and if you really are courageous enough, -you may go. It is no use for me to wake up any of the girls; there is -not one of them that would dare go with you, I know." - -"I'll go alone, Miss Christine, and I know nothing will happen to me." - -Marion hurried back into her room, and dressed herself as quickly as -possible, putting on her thickest cloak, furs, and a warm hood. Miss -Christine stepped into the entry, and kissed her good-by, saying:-- - -"Don't be afraid, darling; you know nothing ever happens round here, and -if you bring the doctor back with you it may be the means of saving -Rachel's life." - -Marion made no reply, except by a glance full of meaning, and went -quietly downstairs, looking back as she reached the door, and nodding at -Miss Christine, who stood at the head of the stairs, holding a candle; -then she opened the door, and went out into the night alone. - -There were two roads which led to the village. By the road proper, on -which several residences bordered, the distance was about two miles; but -there was a shorter one, called the bridge road, which led through -several open fields, and crossed the B---- River, which was rarely -frequented except by the school-girls and farmers on their way to and -from market. This road kept a perfectly straight course to the village, -and although far more lonely than the other, on that account Marion -chose it. - -It was a perfect night; clear and cold, very cold; but of that Marion -thought nothing; she had braved New England winters all her life, and -was almost as hardy as a backwoodsman. The moon was full, and shone down -on as lovely a scene as one would wish to see; the trees with their -delicate coating of ice glistened and gleamed in its beams, as though -covered with myriads of jewels, and threw their fantastic shadows on the -shining snow. - -Marion hurried along the road, not giving herself time for fear, until -she had left the school-house some distance behind her. At any other -time she would have been wildly enthusiastic over the beauty of the -night; but looking at the moon from a comfortable sleigh, snugly tucked -up in buffalo robes, the stillness of the night broken by the jolly -jingling of bells and the laughter of merry friends, is a very different -thing from contemplating it on a lonely country road, no house in sight, -with your loudly beating heart for your only companion, and the hour -near midnight. - -At least Marion found it so; and, brave as she was, she could not keep -her heart from thumping against her side, or her hands from trembling -nervously, as she clasped them inside of her muff. Every bush she passed -took some fantastic shape, and as she strained her eyes before her to -make it assume some rational form, it seemed to move stealthily as if -about to spring upon her; the trees appeared to be stretching out their -naked branches, like long arms with ghostly fingers to clutch her as she -passed; now and then a twig, too heavily freighted with ice, would snap -off and come crackling to the ground, the sudden noise making her heart -stand still for an instant, only to start on again, beating more -violently than before. - -But still she pressed on, and soon the river, which was on the very -verge of the town, gleamed before her, and she quickened her pace, -thankful that so much of her journey was past; but who can describe the -horror and dismay she felt, when, upon reaching its banks, she found the -bridge was gone! The little river wound in and out for several miles, -doubling and redoubling itself, as it flowed among the woods and -fields, and was as quiet and placid a little river as ever could be, -with the exception of a number of rods above and below the bridge; here -its bed was filled with a quantity of rocks and stones, and the water, -rushing over and between them, formed innumerable cascades and -whirlpools, never freezing in the coldest weather. For some time the -bridge had been considered rather unsafe, and that afternoon the workmen -had taken away the floor, leaving the stays and beams still standing. - -Marion looked at the skeleton frame in utter despair. There lay the town -directly before her, the doctor's house being one of the first, and the -only means of getting to it were gone. To go up the bank of the river -and cross on the ice seemed out of the question, for there it was -bordered by thick woods, in which she could easily lose her way, and to -go back, and round by the regular road would take at least an hour -longer. Meanwhile Rachel might be dying, for aught she knew. She went -nearer the bridge, and inspected it more closely; the railings were -perfectly secure, and built upon two broad, solid beams which spanned -the river; the idea came into her head to cross the river on one of the -beams, holding firmly to the railing with both hands. She tied her muff -by the tassels round her neck, tightened the strings of her hood, and -stepped cautiously on to the beam. It seemed a fearful undertaking; her -heart almost misgave her; but the delirious cries of Rachel rang in her -ears and spurred her on. Step by step, slowly and carefully, as a little -child feels its way along a fence, she crept along; gaining confidence -with every movement, until she reached the middle of the bridge; then -she happened to look down. The black water seethed and foamed beneath -her, touched into brightness here and there by the moonlight. For an -instant her brain whirled, and she almost lost her balance. She shut her -eyes, and with a tremendous effort of her will was herself again. -Looking up to heaven, and inwardly beseeching God to sustain her, she -kept on, slowly and carefully as ever, moving first one foot then the -other, with both hands still firmly clasping the railing, until at last -the opposite side was reached, and she stepped upon the snow. - -Her first impulse was to throw herself upon the nearest rock, for now -that she had fairly crossed in safety, the extreme tension to which her -nerves had been subjected relaxed itself, and she was more inclined to -be alarmed at the loneliness of her situation than before. When on the -bridge all her thoughts had been concentrated upon getting over safely; -by force of will she had conquered her nervous fear, calling up all -sorts of imaginary dangers, which disappeared before the actual danger -which assailed her, and which, by presence of mind, she had been able to -overcome. But she would not indulge any of her wild fancies, though they -crowded themselves upon her against her will. She felt herself growing -weaker and weaker as she approached the end of her walk. The shadows -made by the trees and houses seemed even more gloomy than those of the -open road. Once a dog, chained in the neighborhood, broke the stillness -of the night by a long, mournful howl, which echoed through the air, -making Marion shudder as she heard it. At last the house was reached; -running up the steps she gave the bell a tremendous pull. She could hear -it ring through the house; then all was still again. She waited, what -seemed to her, standing there alone on the door-step, which did not even -offer the friendly shadow of a porch, a very long time; then rang again, -even more violently than before. In a moment she heard a window opened -above, and looking up beheld a night-capped head, and the doctor's voice -asked, "What's the row down there? Seems to me you're in a terrible -hurry." - -"Some one's sick, do let me in quick, Dr. Brown!--it's Marion Berkley." - -"Marion Berkley!" exclaimed the doctor, in astonishment. "Here, catch -this key; it's got a long string tied to it, and let yourself in; I'll -be down directly." - -Marion caught the key, and in a moment unlocked the door; once inside, -her strength forsook her, and she sank on the door-mat in total -darkness, perfectly thankful to be in a place of safety. Pretty soon she -heard a movement above, a light gleamed down the stairway, and she heard -the doctor's voice calling to some one in the back of the house to have -the horse harnessed, and brought round to the door immediately. - -In a few moments the doctor himself appeared, bearing a light in his -hand, and exclaiming, as he made his way downstairs, "How, in the name -of sense, did you come here at this time of night?" - -"I walked by the road," answered Marion, her teeth chattering with -nervousness. - -"By the town road," said the doctor; "and who came with you?" - -"I came alone, by the bridge road." - -"By the bridge road!" exclaimed the doctor, stopping short, as he was -putting on his great-coat. "Why, the bridge is down!" - -"I didn't know until I got to it," said Marion, wishing he would hurry, -and not stop to question her; "then it was too late to go back; so I -crossed on the beam." - -"The devil you did!" exclaimed the doctor; then catching up the candle -in one hand, he led her by the other into the dining-room. "There! just -sit down there! Your hands are shaking like old Deacon Grump's, and your -teeth chatter as if they were going to drop out. Now drink every drop of -that, while I go and wrap up." - -While he had been talking, the doctor had gone to the sideboard, and -poured out a generous glass of sherry, which he handed to Marion; she -took it and drank it all. It sent a genial warmth through her trembling -frame, and by the time the doctor called out to her that he was ready, -she felt quite like herself. - -After they were seated in the sleigh, and well tucked up with robes, the -doctor said, "Well now, young lady, if it's agreeable to you, I should -like to know who is sick enough to send you chasing over country roads, -across broken bridges, to rout up an old fellow like me." - -"Rachel Drayton, sir," said Marion; "she's had a bad cold for some time; -this afternoon she went to bed with a terrible headache and sore throat, -and now she's in a high fever, and out of her head." - -"Rachel Drayton; that's the one with the great black eyes, isn't it?" -said the doctor. "H'm! I remember her; very nervous sort of girl, isn't -she?" - -"No, I shouldn't think she was," replied Marion; "she has always seemed -very calm and quiet; you know she's an orphan." - -"Yes, I remember her. I saw her the last time I was there. She's just -the one to be delirious with even a very slight illness." - -"Then you don't think she's going to be very sick?" asked Marion, -eagerly. - -"My dear child," said the doctor, looking down at Marion, "how can I -tell until I've seen her? But good heavens! what's the matter with -you?" - -Marion had burst into a fit of laughter, and the doctor sat and looked -at her in perfect amazement. - -"What _is_ the matter, child? What are you laughing at?" - -But Marion laughed and laughed; throwing her head down into her muff as -if to control herself, and then looking up at the doctor, and laughing -harder than before. - -"What's the matter with you, child?" cried the poor man, really growing -uneasy. "Have you gone crazy, or was the wine too much for you?" - -"It isn't that, doctor, but you--you--" - -"What in the devil's the matter with me, I should like to know!" - -"You've--you've--got on your nightcap!" cried Marion, as well as she -could speak. - -The doctor dropped the reins, and put both hands to his head. Sure -enough, in the hurry of dressing he had forgotten to take off the -immense bandanna handkerchief he wore tied round his head every night; -and over it he had put his cloth cap, which, fitting tight to his head, -left the ends of the handkerchief sticking out each side like great -horns, giving an indescribably funny appearance to the doctor's jolly -round face. - -Now Dr. Brown, although he always considered himself privileged to say -and do anything he had a mind to, was excessively particular about his -toilet, and to take a moonlight drive with a young lady, with his -nightcap on, was quite contrary to his usual habits. However, it was -altogether too ridiculous a situation to do anything but laugh, and the -doctor could enjoy a joke even against himself. - -"Laugh on, Marion; I don't blame you a bit," he said. "I must cut a -pretty figure." - -"Just look at your shadow; then you'll see for yourself." - -The doctor looked over his shoulder. "The devil!" he exclaimed. "Why, I -look just like him, don't I? Depend upon it, that's what it is; I've -called upon his Satanic majesty so often, that now he's after me in good -earnest. Well, old fellow, I'll deprive you of your horns at any rate;" -and the doctor brought the ends of the handkerchief down, and tucked -them under his chin. - -"Marion, don't let me go into the house with this thing on. I won't take -it off now, as long as you've seen it, for it's very comfortable this -cold night; but I shouldn't like to shock Miss Stiefbach's dignity by -appearing before her in such a rig." - -"Miss Stiefbach is away," replied Marion. - -"You don't say so! And the cook sick abed too. Well, Miss Christine has -her hands full." - -"And both the other servants are half sick, and Martin went with Miss -Stiefbach." - -"And that accounts for your coming out on such a wild-goose chase." - -"I was chasing after you, sir," answered Marion, mischievously. - -"No insinuations, miss! There's the school-house; get up, Beauty; you're -growing lazy." - -Marion found the door unlocked, and entering the house quietly, only -stopping long enough for the doctor to divest himself of his fantastic -head-dress, she led the way upstairs. - -"How is she?" anxiously asked Marion of Miss Christine, who met them at -the chamber-door. - -"She is more quiet, but I am _very_ glad the doctor is here." - -The doctor took off his gloves, rubbed his hands together two or three -times, then went to the bedside. - -Rachel looked at him; but seemed to pay no attention to him or any one -else. He felt of her head and pulse, then asked Miss Christine if she -had ever seen her in a fever before. - -"No," replied Miss Christine; "but she often has severe headaches; she -has a sore throat now." - -"Bring the light nearer," said the doctor. "Now, my dear young lady, -will you please open your mouth?" - -But Rachel only moved her head, and showed signs of becoming restless. -The doctor stooped down, opened her mouth himself, and tried to look -down her throat; but she resisted him, and commenced sobbing and -muttering incoherently. The doctor soothed her as he would a little -child, and she became quiet. - -"Has she complained of pain in her back and limbs?" - -"None at all," replied Miss Christine. "I asked her particularly." - -"Give her a teaspoonful of this mixture every half hour until the fever -abates," handing a glass to Miss Christine, "I will come again to-morrow -morning." - -"O doctor," whispered Marion, who had silently watched every movement, -"is it scarlet fever?" - -Miss Christine said nothing, but her eyes asked the same question. - -"Of course I cannot tell yet," said the doctor, rising and drawing on -his gloves, "but I hardly think it is. I noticed her the other day, when -I was here, and remember thinking at the time that even a slight illness -would seem more severe with her than with most persons. She looks like a -person who had suffered and endured without complaint. I don't like to -see that sort of look on a young face. When she is ill this unnatural -self-control gives way, and she's out of her head, when any other -person would be all straight. However, I advise you to keep all the -scholars away from her for the present. As for this young lady," taking -hold of Marion's hand, "the best place for such adventurous young -females, who go about crossing broken bridges at midnight, is bed." - -"What do you mean by broken bridges, doctor?" asked Miss Christine. - -"Only that the bridge was down, and she crossed on the beams, that's -all. My prescription for her is a glass of hot lemonade with a drop of -something in it to keep it; you understand, Miss Christine;" and the -doctor nodded his head significantly as he left the room. - -"My dear Marion," whispered Miss Christine, as she threw her arms around -her, "you are the bravest girl I ever knew!" - -"Nonsense!" replied Marion, "and please don't say anything about it -downstairs in the morning; I won't be talked about." - -"I understand," said Miss Christine; "but now you must go straight to -bed. I'll heat the lemonade over the gas, and bring it in to you." - -"Miss Christine, you go and lie down yourself, and I'll sit up; indeed, -I couldn't sleep if I went to bed." - -"Yes, you will, and don't talk of sitting up, for I won't allow it; go -right away." - -Marion obeyed; in a very few moments she was in bed, had drank the -lemonade, and, before she knew she was even drowsy, was fast asleep. - - - - -CHAPTER XVIII. - -THE VICTORY. - - -The next day the scholars were all very much astonished to find Rachel -was really ill, so much so that the doctor had been sent for in the -night; but none were aware of Marion's midnight adventure, for Miss -Christine had kept her promise to say nothing about it. - -Recitations were given up until Miss Stiefbach should return, and the -scholars were all requested to keep as quiet as possible. Every one went -about with noiseless steps and hushed voices; some learning that Rachel -had been delirious, and had a fever, were seriously frightened lest it -should prove to be contagious, and it was as much as the older girls -could do to keep the little ones in order. - -About ten o'clock the doctor came, and the scholars all collected in the -school-room and library, waiting to hear his verdict. Marion and -Florence went to their own room, leaving the door ajar, that they might -hear the doctor when he went down, and learn from his own lips his -opinion of the case. - -He came at last, and Florence beckoned him into the room; she tried to -ask the question uppermost in her mind, but could not. The doctor knew -what she wanted, and said:-- - -"She is not so bad as I feared; the fever is not so high, and she is not -at all delirious." - -"Then you don't think it's scarlet fever?" anxiously asked Marion. - -"No, nor typhoid; I feared one or the other, but now I am confident it -is nothing contagious. She is pretty sick, but not dangerously so; but -how are you, Miss Marion? Walking over broken bridges at twelve o'clock -at night isn't a very good thing for red cheeks, is it?" - -"What did he mean?" asked Florence, as he left the room. - -"Some of his nonsense," replied Marion, from whose heart a great weight -had been lifted. - -"Marion, you don't put me off in that way," said Florence, laying her -hands on Marion's shoulders, and looking straight into her eyes. -Suddenly an idea seemed to flash into her head: "Did you go for the -doctor?" - -Marion nodded assent. - -"Tell me about it." - -"There is nothing to tell. I woke up in the night, and saw Miss -Christine, with a light in her hand, going downstairs. She told me -Rachel seemed very ill, and I went in and stayed with her while Miss -Christine was gone. Then she wanted to go for the doctor, for she would -not call Biddy; but I preferred going to being left with Rachel; so I -went; that's all." - -"But what about the broken bridge?" asked Florence. - -"The bridge was half down, and I crossed on the beams." - -"Marion, how could you? How did you dare?" said Florence, throwing her -arms round Marion, as if to shield her from present danger; "if your -feet had slipped you would certainly have fallen in, and there would not -have been a soul there to save you." - -"But my feet did not slip," said Marion. "I was frightened; I don't -pretend to say I wasn't; and once when I got to the middle of the bridge -I came near falling; but I shut my eyes, and the thought of Rachel gave -me strength and courage. O Florence! if you had heard her raving, and -talking about her father as I did, you would not wonder I went;" and -Marion bowed her head on her friend's shoulder, and gave vent to the -tears which she had been struggling to keep back. - -Florence held her close in her arms, saying nothing, but bending her own -head until it rested against Marion's cheek, and lightly passing her -hand over her hair until the violence of her emotion had passed away, -and she looked up, with a faint smile, saying, "Don't think me a baby, -Flo, but I haven't had a good cry with you for ever so long, and I -believe I needed it." - -"Think you a baby, darling! Indeed I don't; I think you're the noblest -girl I ever knew." - -"Yes, very noble, I should think!" exclaimed Marion, bitterly; "the way -I have treated Rachel has been nobleness itself!" - -"But, my dear Marion, you have been acting against your better nature -all the time. I knew you would come out all right." - -For a moment Marion was silent, then looking up suddenly, she said, -"Flo, I've been awfully wicked; I might as well have it all out now, and -done with it. When I heard Rachel was coming here I was provoked, -because I didn't like the idea of having a new scholar, that was all; -but when Miss Christine came in, and told us she was an orphan, it -flashed into my head, like a presentiment, that your heart would warm -towards her; that you would make her your friend; and from that moment I -determined to hate her. Don't look so shocked, dear, or I can't go on, -and I want to say it all now. It wasn't a very easy thing, you may be -sure, after I saw her; but I would not listen to my conscience, and only -steeled myself against her all the more, when I saw she had every -quality that would make her lovable, and many that were particularly -attractive to me. It was hard, you can't tell how hard, to see her day -by day taking the place with you that had always been mine. I knew it -was my own fault, because, if I had treated her as I ought, as I really -wanted to, we might all three have been warm friends; but I wanted you -all to myself. I was jealous, and I might as well say so! However, the -night before Thanksgiving I determined to overcome my wicked feelings, -and yield to my better nature. You know how I treated her that night, -and I should have done the same ever since if I hadn't been a -contemptible coward! I heard Georgie Graham tell Mattie Denton that I -was _toadying_ Rachel, because she was an heiress; and I was afraid if I -began to treat her kindly the whole school would think the same thing. -There! it is all out now; do you think I am a perfect wretch?" - -At first Florence made no answer; then she said very gently, "'He that -conquereth himself is greater than he that taketh a city.'" - -"I know it, Flo," answered Marion, with tears in her eyes; "I've thought -of that so many times. But this is such a _little_ victory, and there -really ought not to have been anything to conquer." - -"But there was, and you conquered it; if it were possible I should say I -love you more than ever." - -"Then Rachel has never taken my place entirely away?" - -"No, darling, never! I love Rachel very much, very much indeed; but -still it is not exactly as I love you. I can't explain the difference, -but I know it is there." - -"I am satisfied," said Marion, kissing her friend softly. "Do you think -Rachel will ever learn to love me?" - -"I know she will," replied Florence; "only act your own self; _follow_ -your good impulses instead of driving them away from you, and you will -make her love you whether she wants to or not." - - * * * * * - -For many days Rachel was very ill, and Miss Stiefbach and Miss Christine -were very anxious about her; still the doctor assured them there was no -cause for alarm; her illness would be likely to prove a tedious one, but -after she was fairly recovered she would be much stronger than she had -been for a long time. It seemed very sad to think of the poor girl, so -ill, without a relative near her, for Miss Stiefbach knew there was no -one for whom she could send, who would seem any nearer to Rachel, if as -near, as herself and Miss Christine. They procured an excellent nurse to -assist in taking care of her, but nevertheless devoted themselves to her -as much as it was possible to do, without neglecting their other duties. -It was a pity Miss Stiefbach's scholars could not have entered that -sick-room, and seen their teacher as she appeared there; they would have -learned to love her then as Rachel did. No one would have recognized, in -the gentle-voiced, tender-hearted woman who bent over the orphan girl -with almost a mother's watchful care, the cold, dignified superintendent -of the school. - -After a while the fever subsided, but Rachel was still very weak, and -the doctor's prediction, that her convalescence would be very slow, soon -proved itself true. She was very patient, yielding herself entirely to -those who so kindly watched over her. As soon as the fever was past, -Florence had begged permission to sit with her, promising not to talk, -as perfect rest and silence were most especially enjoined by the doctor. -One day when the nurse had gone to lie down, and Miss Stiefbach and Miss -Christine both had something which needed their immediate attention, -Marion offered to sit with her. She had not been in the room since the -first night of Rachel's illness, and was not prepared for the change -which had taken place in her: then a bright color burned in her cheeks; -now her face was so thin and pale as to be pitiable to look at. She was -sleeping quietly; so Marion seated herself at the foot of the bed, not -going any nearer for fear of disturbing her. She sat there some time, -her thoughts busy with the past, when she was very much startled at -hearing Rachel say, in a weak voice:-- - -"Miss Christine, is that you?" - -"No," answered Marion, rising, and going quickly to the bedside; "it's -Marion; can I do anything for you?" - -"You, Marion!" said Rachel, holding out her hand. "I'm so glad!" - -"Why?" asked Marion, kneeling by the bed, and taking Rachel's hand in -both of hers. - -"Because I wanted to see you so much. Miss Christine told me who went -for the doctor for me that night. I want to thank you." - -"Don't Rachel! don't!" said Marion, her voice trembling despite her -efforts to keep it steady. "Forgive me for all the unkind things I have -done; that is what I want." - -"Forgive you, Marion! As if after that night there could be anything to -forgive! I'll do better than that; I'll love you." - -Marion could not speak, but she bent forward and pressed a kiss upon -Rachel's lips. That kiss was the seal upon a bond of friendship which -was never broken by either. - -And so a few words, a silent action, cleared away all the unkindness and -doubt of the past. Why is it, that so often, in the lives of all of us, -such words are left unspoken, such actions go undone, the want of which -clouds not only our own happiness, but that of others? - -Soon after this, Rachel was able to be moved on to a lounge, and every -spare hour that Marion and Florence could get from their studies was -devoted to her. Marion would seat herself on the floor by the couch, and -Florence lean over the back as they talked of everything that was going -on downstairs, or made plans for their summer vacation. Sometimes their -conversation drifted on to quieter and graver subjects; then, as the -twilight gathered round them, they would draw nearer together, and hand -in hand sit in silence until Marion, fearing lest too much thinking -would have a bad effect upon Rachel, with some jesting remarks, would -jump up and light the gas. - -Lying there, in the daily companionship of her two friends, Rachel -regained her health and strength, and passed happier hours than she had -known since her father's death. - - - - -CHAPTER XIX. - -THE WEDDING. - - -"I've got the greatest piece of news for you, you ever heard!" cried -Marion, bursting into the room where Florence, Rachel, Mattie, and Sarah -were sitting one morning in the early part of June. "Guess who's -engaged?" - -"Engaged!" echoed Sarah; "I'm sure I don't know." - -"Yourself," said Mattie. - -"Oh, pshaw! don't be ridiculous!" said Marion. "Come now, girls, guess -somebody rational." - -"Well, aren't you rational, I should like to know?" asked Rachel. - -"I shouldn't be if I were engaged," retorted Marion; "but guess now; -every one but Florence, for I think she would guess right." - -"Oh, tell us, Flo, do," urged Sarah; "Marion will keep it all night." - -"No, I won't," cried Marion; "it's _Miss Christine_." - -"Miss Christine!" shouted every girl, jumping to her feet in -astonishment,--"to whom?" - -"Why, M. Béranger, of course," said Florence; "who else could it be?" - -"Why, I never thought of such a thing," said Rachel. - -"Well, I don't know where your eyes have been," said Marion; "for I've -suspected it a long time, and so has Florence." - -"Oh, I thought he liked her, and she him; but I never thought of -_that_." - -"Well, I think it is perfectly horrid!" declared Sarah. - -"Why, Sallie, what do you mean?" said Marion; "I think it's splendid." - -"Oh, of course, it's all very nice for you girls who are going away at -the end of the term; but here I've got to stay another year, and I shall -_die_ without Miss Christine!" - -"But you'll have her just the same," said Marion; "they're going to live -here for a year at least; it almost makes me want to come back again." - -"Going to live here?" cried Sarah, clasping her hands with delight; -"then I _do_ think it's perfectly magnificent!" - -"Tell us all about it, Marion," asked Mattie; "how did you know it?" - -"Miss Christine told me herself. You ought to have seen how pretty she -looked! She blushed like any girl, and I just threw my arms round her -and gave her a good hug. She told me I might tell the girls who were -going to leave this term; but she didn't want the others to know it at -present, and here I've been, and let the cat out of the bag; for I -didn't see Sallie when I came in, and never dreamed she was here. -Sallie, if you lisp a word of it, I'll have you shut up, and kept on -bread and water for a week, and you shan't go to the wedding." - -"Is she going to be married during school?" - -"I shouldn't wonder; but I couldn't get it out of her when. Now, girls, -we must give her a handsome present." - -"It ought to be from the whole school," suggested Florence. - -"Yes, so I think; but don't you think it would be nice if we six girls, -who have been here four years together, should all work her something? -My idea is to make an ottoman: one work the middle, four the corners, -and the other fill it up; what do you say?" - -"A capital idea!" said Mattie; "and I choose the filling up, for that's -the only part I like to do." - -"You're welcome to it," said Marion, "for we all hate it." - -"Mab, couldn't you design it yourself?" asked Florence; "it would be so -much handsomer, and Miss Christine would think all the more of it." - -"Nothing I should like better, if you'll all trust me." - -"Of course we will," said Mattie; "you designed your carpet-bag, didn't -you? It is a perfect beauty!" - -"Let me see it," said Sarah. "It's a new one, isn't it?" - -"Oh, what handsome letters!" said Rachel. "There, now I see for the -first time why the girls call you Mab. I always thought it was such a -queer nickname for Marion." - -"Why, didn't you know?" answered Marion. "M. A. B., Marion Ascott -Berkley; but I never write my whole name; I like just the two, Marion -Berkley, a great deal better." - -"Do you know," said Sarah, in the most serious way, "I don't think 'Mab' -seems to suit you so well as it used to? then you were sort -of--well--but now you're kind of--I don't exactly know what, but -different from the other." - -"Sallie, you are a goose!" laughed Marion, as Sarah's lucid description -of the change in her character produced a shout from the girls. "I shall -have to muzzle you until you manage your tongue better;" and quick as a -flash Marion seized her satchel, and clapped it over Sarah's head, who -resisted violently; "will you be a good girl if I let you out?" - -"Yes! yes!" cried Sallie, from the inside of the bag, her voice almost -drowned by the laughter of the girls. - -"Well now, behave yourself," said Marion, as she released her prisoner, -"and next time don't talk of what you know nothing about." - -"Well, you are, any way!" cried Sarah, brushing the hair out of her -eyes. - -"Take care!" laughed Marion, shaking the satchel at Sarah; "you know -what you have to expect." - -"Come, girls, let's go downstairs and tell the others," said Rachel. - -"So we will," said Marion; "they ought to have known it as soon as we -did;" and down they all went. - -Miss Christine's engagement did not long remain a secret, and when the -knowledge became general, the little woman was fairly showered with -kisses and caresses. Her scholars had almost worshipped her before, but -now she seemed invested with a new importance, and was quite enveloped -in a perpetual incense of love and admiration. M. Béranger, in the -comparatively short time he had been with them, had won the respect of -all his pupils; but now that he was going to marry their Miss Christine -they made a perfect hero of him. - -It came out, at last, that the marriage was to take place the last day -of June, two days later than the usual one for closing school. Miss -Christine's first idea had been to be married very quietly in church, -inviting any of the scholars who chose to do so to remain over; but the -girls all begged her to have a "regular wedding," as they called it, and -she had consented. - -Every one of the scholars was perfectly delighted at the idea of staying -over to the wedding, and all were anxiously looking forward to the -important day. Invitations were sent to those of the parents with whom -Miss Christine was personally acquainted, and the girls had great fun -planning and replanning how all the guests were to be accommodated for -the night, as they would have to come the night previous. Great was the -delight of Marion, when Miss Christine told her that she wanted the six -graduates to be her bridesmaids, and she immediately ran off to find the -girls and plan their dresses. They had been as busy as bees ever since -they knew of the engagement; there were but a few stitches more to set -in the ottoman, and it was to be sent the next day to Mrs. Berkley, who -was to get it mounted, and bring it up when she came. - -As many of the scholars were very wealthy, while the parents of others -were in moderate circumstances, Marion had suggested that all -contributions for the present, from the whole school, should be put into -a closed box, through a hole in the cover, thus preventing any one from -having an uncomfortable consciousness that she had not been able to give -as much as another. When the box was opened, it was found to contain a -very large sum. This was forwarded by Marion, who seemed by general -consent to be considered chief of the committee of arrangements, to her -mother, with directions to use it in the purchase of a plain, but -handsome, gold watch and chain. There proved to be a surplus fund, with -which Mrs. Berkley bought a large album, in which were placed -photographs of all the girls in the school. - -Miss Stiefbach had so much to occupy her mind, that several times during -the week of the wedding she was actually seen to hurry through the hall, -quite forgetful of her usual dignified glide. In fact, she seemed quite -another person; the prospect of her sister's happiness had wrought a -great change in her, and made her quite unbend to those around her. - -Aunt Bettie came down several times with butter and eggs, never going -away without getting a glimpse of Marion, and for three or four days -before _the_ day, Jemima was at the house all the time, stoning raisins, -beating eggs, and making herself generally useful. - -At last the wedding-day actually arrived. Mr. and Mrs. Berkley, with -several other fathers and mothers, had arrived the night previous, and -every nook and corner of the house was filled to overflowing. Some of -the scholars slept three in a bed, others on mattresses laid on the -floor; but no one thought of complaining, and the more inconvenience -they had to put up with, the better they seemed to like it; for wasn't -it all for their Miss Christine? - -The six bridesmaids, with the other older girls, had been busy every -moment of the day before, making wreaths of wild flowers and roses; -these they hung early in the morning all over the lower part of the -house. The folding-doors were festooned, and trimmed with an arch of -flowers, and the walls of the little room back of them, in which Miss -Christine was to stand to receive her friends, were perfectly covered -with wreaths, garlands, and bouquets; so that it looked like a fairy -bower. - -They had also decorated the church, although of that neither Miss -Stiefbach nor Miss Christine was as yet aware. The chancel-rail was -trimmed with garlands of white flowers; down the aisle were four arches, -the one at the door being of bright, glowing colors, and each one -growing paler, until the one in front of the altar was of pure, bridal -white, and over that hung a "marriage bell" of marguerites. - -The girls had had to work hard, and had scoured the country far and near -for flowers; but they had done everything themselves, and not a bud was -twined in those decorations that did not take with it a loving thought -of the dear little woman in whose honor they were made. - -At last everything was completed; the bridesmaids were all dressed, and -collected in Marion's room, putting on their gloves, and Marion had gone -to put on the bridal veil,--a favor which she had begged, and which had -been most readily granted; in a few moments that was done and the party -started for the church, where Miss Stiefbach and her guests were already -arrived. I doubt if it would be possible to find a prettier bridal party -in all the world, than entered that little church that glorious June -morning. First came Mattie Denton and Grace Minton; then Julia Thayer -and Alice Howard; then Marion and Florence, and directly behind them M. -Béranger and Miss Christine. The bridesmaids wore simple white muslins, -short, the upper skirts looped with clematis and rose-buds, and delicate -wreaths of the same in their hair. The bride also wore white muslin, -over which hung the bridal veil of tulle, put on with a wreath of -natural orange-blossoms and myrtle, the work of Marion's hands. - -M. Béranger looked, and acted like a prince about to take possession of -his kingdom, and his clear "I vill" could be heard in every part of the -church. But the ceremony was soon over; the bridal party turned and -faced the eager, happy faces before them, and passed slowly down under -the arches of lovely flowers, out into the sunlight, the organ pealing -forth the glorious old wedding-march. Such a wedding-reception was never -seen before! There were no dignified ushers to lead you decorously up to -the bride, and whisk you off again before you got an idea into your -head; and if there had been, they would have been tremendously snubbed -by that throng of impetuous girls, who all crowded round Miss -Christine, or rather Madame Béranger, each one eager for the first kiss. -All formality was set aside; every one was radiantly happy, and, -literally, everything went merry as a marriage bell. - -It would be useless to attempt to describe Miss Christine's delight at -her many presents; for, in addition to those I have already mentioned, -almost every girl in the school gave her some little thing she had made -herself. M. Béranger also received many proofs of their regard. - -But the time soon arrived when the bride and bridesmaids, who were to -leave in the Boston train that afternoon, had to go and change their -dresses. The girls' trunks were all packed, and there was little enough -time for the adieus which naturally accompanied a final departure from -school. The carriage for the bride was at the door, and behind it -several wagons, of various descriptions, for the bridesmaids and their -friends. Miss Christine came down, looking so lovely, in her gray -travelling-suit, that there was a perfect rush at her for the final -good-by; but the last one was said, and in a moment she and her husband -were in the carriage and off. Sarah Brown threw an old shoe after them -for good luck, the wagons followed on, and the whole party started down -the road, amid the shouts and cheers of the girls, who crowded on to the -piazza, almost hiding poor Miss Stiefbach, as they waved their -handkerchiefs, and threw their farewell kisses in the air. - - - - -CHAPTER XX. - -THE JOURNEY. - - -Rachel's intention had been to stay with Miss Stiefbach until the return -of her uncle, whom she expected during the month of October; but Marion -had urged her to go home with her, and join their family party in their -summer trip. Mrs. Berkley seconded the invitation so warmly that Rachel -had accepted with great pleasure. - -Finding that Mr. Stevenson's means were not sufficient to enable him to -allow Florence to join the party, Rachel, with the utmost delicacy and -tact, had invited her to go with them,--an arrangement which proved more -than satisfactory to all. - -I fear some of my readers have thought that Rachel's uncle must be a -cold, hard-hearted man to leave his orphan niece so long to the care of -strangers, and in justice to that gentleman I must give some explanation -of his seeming neglect. - -Although a man of great wealth, he had devoted himself to the study of -surgery, throwing into the pursuit as much energy as if he depended on -his skill for his daily bread. Having become quite famous as a surgeon, -he had for several years given his services to a charity hospital in -Berlin; but having been away from his native land for ten years, he -notified the directors of the hospital, a month previous to his -brother's death, that at the end of a year from that time he must leave -them. He signified his intention of donating to the hospital a sum of -money, the income of which would be sufficient to pay a handsome salary -to any one whom they might find competent to take his place. When the -news of his brother's death reached him, his first impulse had been to -start at once for America, and make a home for the orphan girl so -suddenly bereft of a father's care; but the same steamer brought him -letters from his lawyer and business agent, stating that, according to a -wish expressed in the will of his deceased brother, his niece had been -placed at an excellent boarding-school, where she would remain for a -year, unless other directions were received from him; so he deferred -leaving until the time Rachel's school would close; but as she wrote him -that she was well and happy, and had made such pleasant plans for the -summer, he postponed his return still later, finding that until that -time no surgeon could be procured whom he felt capable of filling his -responsible position. - -Mr. and Mrs. Berkley, Marion, Florence, and Rachel, with Fred and Mr. -Thornton, made up the travelling party. Mr. Berkley secured a -drawing-room car for their exclusive use, and in the best possible -spirits they set out for New York. The day after arriving there they -went up the Hudson to West Point, spending a week at that delightful -place, made up of enchanting scenery and still more enchanting cadets. -It would be useless to say the girls did not enjoy the latter quite as -much as the former, for what girl of eighteen ever could resist brass -buttons? - -For a day or two, Mr. Thornton and Fred escorted them about town, took -them to the review, and everywhere else that there was anything worth -seeing, but never introducing one of their military acquaintances, -notwithstanding said acquaintances gave them plenty of opportunities for -doing so. But such a state of things was not likely to last long; for -the young women, although apparently unconscious of the admiring -glances with which they were favored, in their secret hearts knew -perfectly well that those spruce cadets never met them whenever they -went out, or passed in front of their hotel-windows so many times a day, -for the sole purpose of getting a bow from Fred or Mr. Thornton. - -"The idea," exclaimed Marion, as the three girls were putting on their -hats for their usual walk, "of our going away from West Point without -having been introduced to a single cadet! I think it's outrageous!" - -"But, Marion," said Rachel, "don't you suppose if they wanted to know us -very much, they'd find a way to get introduced?" - -"How can they, when Fred and Arthur Thornton mount guard over us every -time we go out? Papa doesn't know any one but the old officers. Arthur -Thornton knows ever so many cadets, and I think it's _very_ strange he -doesn't bring them to call on us." - -"I'm sure," said Florence, "Mr. Thornton is very polite and attentive -himself; I think he's very nice." - -"Oh, so do I," replied Marion; "he's nice enough, but aren't we going to -have _him_ all summer? I tell you just how it is; he doesn't intend to -introduce any one, because he feels so grand taking us everywhere -himself!" - -"O Marion," laughed Rachel, "I'm afraid you're growing conceited." - -"No, I'm not, but what I say is true. If we didn't dress in the fashion, -and look pretty nice all the time, he'd be only too glad to get us off -his hands." - -"Seems to me you're rather hard on Mr. Thornton," said Florence, -smoothing the feather in her hat. "Why is he any more to blame than -Fred?" - -"Of course he is! Fred doesn't know any one, but some of the little -fellows, that Arthur Thornton hasn't introduced to him; besides, he's -just the age when it makes him feel important to have three young -females under his charge. But I tell you I'm going to put a stop to -this; I know there are plenty of young men here actually dying to be -presented to us. I think it is positively cruel to let them languish any -longer, and if there isn't more than one cadet introduced to us before -night, then my name is not Marion Berkley." - -That morning the whole party went to the armory with an old officer, who -was at West Point making a visit to his son, a member of the graduating -class. When they started from the hotel, Marion took her father's arm, -and joined with him in his conversation with the officer. Before they -reached the armory Col. Stranburg was perfectly delighted with her, and -the interest she evinced for his profession, and quite devoted himself -to her during the morning. - -"My dear young lady," he said as they were returning to the hotel, "I -should like to call on you and your friends this evening, and bring my -son with me." - -"I should be delighted," replied Marion, who had been wondering how she -should ask him to do that very thing without appearing too eager; "for -as yet we do not any of us know a single cadet." - -"What!" exclaimed the old gentleman, in unfeigned astonishment; "you -don't mean to say you've been at West Point three days, and don't know a -cadet! Why, I supposed that by this time you had a whole necklace of -brass buttons." - -"I haven't," laughed Marion, "and I don't think I care for one; but I -should like to know some one here." - -"Of course you would; and I don't understand it at all. Ah! now I see!" -he exclaimed, with a meaning glance at the two young men who were -walking in front with Florence and Rachel; "you have been monopolized, -but we'll alter the state of things." - -Col. Stranburg was as good as his word, and called that evening, -bringing with him, not only his son, but two other cadets, who proved to -be the very young gentlemen the girls had so often noticed. The next day -the young men called again, each bringing a friend, and so it went on; -every evening their parlor was crowded, and the girls were showered with -attentions and bouquets till the end of the week, when Mr. Berkley -carried them off, declaring that their heads would be completely turned -if they remained any longer. - -From West Point they went to the Catskills, spending several weeks -there. Marion, who had never travelled to any extent, was perfectly -delighted with everything she saw, but above all with the exquisite -beauty of the scenery. She would often wander away from the others, find -some unfrequented spot, and sit for hours drinking in the loveliness -about her, her whole nature expanding under its influence. - -From the Catskills they went to Saratoga, giving only one day and night -to that abode of fashion; from there to Montreal; then down the St. -Lawrence to Niagara, and from there home, arriving in Boston about the -last of September. - -It would be useless for me to attempt to give an account of all they saw -and did that summer; it would fill at least one small volume. Suffice it -to say, that every one enjoyed themselves to the utmost; that Rachel -could never thank Mrs. Berkley half enough for inviting her to join -their party; and Florence could never express half her gratitude to -Rachel for inviting her to go with her. - -I think I conveyed to my readers the idea that Mr. Thornton was somewhat -in love with Marion the first time he saw her; and the more he saw her -the better he liked her. Every one knows how easily people get -acquainted who are thrown together as they were, and before the summer -was half over, they felt as if they had known each other for years. - -Marion liked Mr. Thornton very much; in fact, once or twice she had been -guilty of indulging in certain little day-dreams, in which that young -gentleman figured quite extensively; but she had been heartily ashamed -of herself afterwards, and resolved in the future not to let her -imagination take such ridiculous flights. But she could not help -noticing, that, polite as he was to her friends, he was still more so to -her. There was a difference in the very way he spoke to her; not that he -was ever sentimental or tender; Marion would have had too much good -sense to allow anything of the kind, even if he had been inclined to be -so foolish, which I am happy to say he was not. But she remembered, that -throughout their whole journey she had never expressed a wish to go to -any particular place, or see any lovely view which the rest of the party -considered rather unattainable, but what, somehow or other, Mr. Thornton -cleared away all difficulties, and almost before she was aware of it the -wish was gratified. She would have been something more than human, if -such very chivalrous attentions had not been agreeable to her. - - - - -CHAPTER XXI. - -RACHEL'S UNCLE RETURNS. - - -"There, Rachel, I flatter myself that hangs just about right," said -Marion, walking across the room to display the train of her new black -silk. - -"And so it does," replied Rachel, turning away from the glass where she -had been putting on her fall hat; "the slope is quite perfect. Why, you -look positively queenly!" - -"Don't I though?" laughed Marion, only glancing now and then with an air -of great satisfaction at the folds of her train as it swept gracefully -beside her chair. "I've held out all summer, and would not put on a long -dress until I could have a train, and now I've got one." - -"I should certainly say you had," said her mother, entering at that -moment with her bonnet and shawl on. "Come Rachel, are you ready? The -carriage is at the door. I suppose Marion will spend her time, while we -are out, walking up and down the room, learning how to manage her train, -so as not to stumble over it the first time she goes downstairs." - -"You horrible mamma!" laughed Marion; "as if I could be so clumsy! -Besides, you know I am staying home on purpose to finish papa's slippers -in time for his birthday." - -"Oh, yes, we know," said Rachel, "I don't suppose there's any danger of -your having a caller while we are out." - -"No, I don't suppose there is," retorted Marion, knowing well the -meaning of Rachel's mischievous glance, "unless your uncle should -happen to come; if he does, I'll entertain him until you get back." - -"Oh, there's no danger of his interrupting the tête-à-tête," laughed -Rachel, as she ran downstairs; "your father said the steamer would not -be in until to-morrow morning." - -"O mamma," called out Marion, "won't you please stop on your way back, -and get me a cherry ribbon? I haven't a bright bow to my name, and papa -will have a fit to see me all in black." - -"I'll get you one," replied Mrs. Berkley, as she was closing the front -door; "but there's one in my upper drawer you can wear until I get -back." - -"It's not worth while," said Marion to herself, as she fastened her -sleeve-buttons; "I'll just put in this jet pin, for I know there won't -be any one here, and I haven't got time to prink." - -She seated herself at her work, and sewed away very industriously, only -glancing now and then at the folds of her alpaca, as they swept out so -gracefully beside her chair, looking "almost like a black silk." Her -mother and Rachel had not been gone very long, when Bridget, the cook, -came up, and said there was a gentleman downstairs. - -"Who is it, Biddy? didn't he send his name?" - -"Indade an' he didn't, miss. Ellen is out, and Sarey's just afther -changin' her dress, an' it's meself as had to go to the door, an' I -always gits so flustered that I laves me wits in the kitchen." - -"I should think you did," replied Marion, as she brushed the bits of -worsted off her dress. "Do you think it's Mr. Thornton?" - -"Misther Thorington! An' haven't I sane the likes o' him too many times -not to know him? Indade an' it aint, miss; it's a much oulder man than -him." - -"Oh, I know who it is!" exclaimed Marion. "I'll go right down;" and she -ran downstairs, not stopping to give a glance at the glass as she -certainly would have done if it had been Mr. Thornton, and thinking to -herself, "It must be Rachel's uncle. I am so glad the old gentleman has -got here at last; I do hope he will be like her father." - -She entered the parlor hastily, but before she had a chance to speak, or -even see who was there, she found herself encircled by a pair of strong -arms; a bearded face bent over her, kissing her repeatedly, and a manly -voice exclaimed: "My darling! have I got you at last?" - -Marion disengaged herself as quickly as possible, and sprang back, -looking at the stranger with an expression in which astonishment and -indignation were equally blended. - -He was a very handsome man, apparently about thirty-five; tall, and of a -commanding figure. His features were fine, that is, his nose and eyes; -the latter, when one could get a good look under the long black lashes -which shaded them, showed themselves to be clear, blue-gray; but the -lower part of his face was concealed by a soft, wavy beard and mustache -of rich, chestnut-brown. There was an air of dignity about him which did -not seem to be assumed for the occasion, and altogether he was the last -man to suspect as an impostor, although such Marion had mentally styled -him, deciding at the first glance that he could not be Rachel's uncle. -Before she could collect her bewildered ideas sufficiently to speak, he -again stretched out his arms as if to embrace her, saying in a -reproachful tone:-- - -"What! your astonishment at seeing me is greater than your joy? I assure -you, my dear, that is not the case with me." - -"Can you wonder at my astonishment, sir?" exclaimed Marion, retreating -as he came near her, and motioning him back with a haughty gesture; -"explain your singular conduct." - -"Have not I explained it sufficiently?" he asked. "You are a little -unreasonable, I think, although that queenly manner sets well upon you, -I must confess." - -"Sir!" exclaimed Marion, with flashing eyes, "if you do not instantly -leave this house, I will find means to compel you to do so." - -"Come, come, my darling," he answered, stepping forward and taking -possession of her hand, "your joke has gone quite far enough. I -acknowledge you're as perfect a little actress as I ever saw; but I want -something more than acting;" and he attempted to kiss her. - -But Marion sprang from him, throwing her head up, and looking at him -with a face expressive of the utmost scorn, as she exclaimed, "Sir, you -have the appearance of a gentleman, and for such I first took you, but I -find I was mistaken; if you do not instantly leave the house I will call -a policeman to put you out!" and Marion pointed to the door with a -gesture that would have done honor to a queen, as she stood waiting to -see him obey her command. - -But the stranger only looked at her a moment in silence, then said in an -injured, reproachful tone, "I expected to find you changed; a young lady -in fact; but that you should have chosen our first meeting for an -exhibition of what seems to be your favorite accomplishment is more than -I expected. I entreat you to drop this haughty indifference, which I -sincerely hope is assumed for this occasion only, and be once more the -little Rachel I left ten years ago." - -At the mention of the word Rachel, Marion's arm dropped to her side; -her haughty bearing gave place to an air of confusion, and she -exclaimed:-- - -"Rachel! Can it be that you thought I was Rachel Drayton?" - -For the first time it occurred to the stranger that he too might be -laboring under a mistake, and he bowed slightly, as he said:-- - -"I certainly took you for my niece, Rachel Drayton; but I see by your -face I am wrong. I most sincerely beg your pardon for what must have -seemed an act of unparalleled impudence." - -Marion bowed, flushing crimson at the recollection of the very -affectionate greeting he had given her; but she said in a charmingly -frank way:-- - -"No apology is necessary, sir; it was a mistake all round,--you took me -for Rachel, and I took you for an impostor, which certainly was not so -complimentary; but now I know you must be Dr. Robert Drayton." - -Dr. Drayton smiled, as he said, "And you are Miss Marion Berkley, I -presume?" - -"Yes," replied Marion, offering him a chair, and seating herself at the -same time. "Rachel is staying with me; she has gone out riding with -mamma. She did not expect you until to-morrow morning; but when the -servant told me a gentleman was down here, I thought it must be you, but -was sure I was mistaken when I saw you." - -"And why, may I ask?" inquired Dr. Drayton. - -"Oh!" laughed Marion, a trifle confused, "because I thought you were -quite an old gentleman; at least old enough to be my father." - -"And so I am, almost," replied Dr. Drayton, smiling; "but tell me, does -Rachel want to see me?" - -"Indeed she does; she has talked about you every day this summer, and -has hardly been able to wait for you to get here. But how did you -mistake me for her? We are not in the least alike." - -"You must remember it is ten years since I saw her; then she was a -little, dark-eyed thing with golden hair, something like yours; your -black dress, too, misled me." - -"Golden hair!" exclaimed Marion, wishing she had put on her mother's -bright bow, thus saving herself all her embarrassment,--"golden hair, I -can't imagine such a thing; she has jet-black now." - -"I dare say I don't remember it very correctly; has she grown much?" - -"She is very tall; much taller than I am." - -"I thought you were very tall just now when you ordered me out of the -house," said Dr. Drayton, with an amused smile. - -"I beg you will never allude to the subject again," said Marion, raising -her head involuntarily, with a slightly haughty gesture, as she -invariably did when she was annoyed, but did not wish to appear so; "it -was a mistake for which I sincerely beg your pardon." - -"As you said to me," replied Dr. Drayton, "no apology is needed. I -promise never to allude to the subject again without your permission." - -"Which I certainly shall never grant," laughed Marion, ashamed of her -unnecessary hauteur. "Now I shall be able to apply to you my one great -test of the worth of humanity, that is, try your powers of keeping a -secret." - -"I am willing to stand the test," laughed Dr. Drayton, "and feel sure -that before morning I shall have no secret to keep, for by that time you -will have told Rachel all about it." - -"I shall do no such thing," replied Marion, warmly; "but there is the -carriage. Excuse me, Dr. Drayton, and I will tell Rachel you are here." - -The meeting between Dr. Drayton and Rachel was far different from his -interview with Marion. Rachel had longed for his coming, for although -she could not remember him very distinctly, she could not feel him to be -a stranger to her; her father was very fond of his younger brother, and -had always been in the habit of talking with his daughter a great deal -about her Uncle Robert, until he had become almost a hero in her eyes. -She had been in the habit of associating him in her mind with her -father, so that she had quite forgotten he was many years his junior, -and was not prepared to find so young a man; in fact, only thirty-two, -although his beard gave him the appearance of being a few years older. -There was a certain sense of strength and power about him, which led her -to look upon him with the same feelings of deference and respect with -which she would look upon an older man, while at the same time, the fact -of his being younger put her upon an easier, more familiar footing with -him; in short, Rachel was delighted with him, and felt she would receive -from him all the affection and watchful care of a father, combined with -the more demonstrative attentions of an elder brother. - - - - -CHAPTER XXII. - -DR. DRAYTON'S HOUSE-KEEPER. - - -"Mrs. Berkley, I'm in a dilemma," said Dr. Drayton, as he entered the -library one morning where that lady was sitting, and took a chair near -her. - -"Can I help you out of it?" - -"If you can't, I don't know of any one else to go to," said Dr. Drayton, -who had become a daily visitor at the Berkleys'. "I have bought a house, -and now I want a house-keeper. Even if I felt inclined to brave the -opinion of Mrs. Grundy, and settle down with Rachel at the head of my -establishment, I would not do it; she is too young to have so much care -on her shoulders; I want the rest of her life to be as bright and happy -as it is possible for me to make it. My idea is to get some cultivated, -refined, middle-aged lady to come and take the care of the -house-keeping, and be a person who would make it pleasant for Rachel, -and any young friends she might wish to have with her. But how can I get -such a person? I answered two advertisements last week, and had -interviews with the females themselves at the Tremont House. One of them -was old and thin, and had a sharp voice that sent a chill through me -every time she spoke,--would be about as cheerful a member of society as -an animated skeleton; the other fair, fat, and forty, but an incessant -talker, and looked as if she had not brushed her hair for a week. Now, -Mrs. Berkley, what shall I do? Here I am, a poor, forlorn bachelor, who -throws himself on your hands. You must help me somehow or other." - -"Well, the best thing I can advise," replied Mrs. Berkley, with an -amused smile, "is for you to cease to be a bachelor." - -Dr. Drayton shrugged his shoulders. "Impossible, madame!" - -"And why, I should like to know? You certainly are not bad-looking; your -name is quite surrounded by a fast-increasing halo of fame,--something -which is always attractive to the young ladies, you know,--and, what -would be above all to many, you have money." - -"Exactly," replied Dr. Drayton, with considerable energy. "When I first -settled down in Berlin, through some very influential friends the very -first society of the place was open to me, and I found myself the -recipient of marked attention from the heads of several families. I was -delighted with them. Such cordiality! such hospitality! I really felt -proud of myself for calling it forth, for then I was young, and the -little halo which you speak of had not shed its benign influence over -me; of course it was to my personal attractions, and nothing else, I -owed my popularity. I happened to speak to a young American friend of -mine, of the attentions I was constantly receiving,--invitations to -this, that, and the other house, and wondered why it was he was not -equally fortunate. 'My dear fellow,' said he, 'don't you know I haven't -got any money?' His answer was certainly a damper to my feelings; but it -was a good thing for me. I gave less time to balls and parties, and more -to my profession; gradually, as I showed myself less and less in -society, I received fewer invitations, and those from gentlemen all -having marriageable daughters. No, Mrs. Berkley, don't ask me to get -married; at least not at present. I don't know anything about American -girls; but I suppose they are all very much the same as other young -ladies, and not until I can find one who will love me for myself, and -not my money, will there ever be a Mrs. Drayton at the head of my -table." - -"That is certainly a good resolution," replied Mrs. Berkley, laughing; -"but I am afraid I could find you a wife much easier than a -house-keeper, such as you want. Of course you will want to put your -house in order, and furnish it; meanwhile we are delighted to keep -Rachel with us." - -"You are very kind, very kind indeed, and I certainly shall benefit -myself by your offer, for I don't like the idea of taking her to a -hotel. But you haven't asked me where my house is." - -"Sure enough," replied Mrs. Berkley; "but my mind has been too full of -your house-keeper to think of your house. Where is it?" - -"That house on the corner of Beacon Street and the street just below -here, I can't recall the name." - -"The free-stone house we noticed for sale the other day?" inquired Mrs. -Berkley. - -"Yes, that is the one. It is larger than I really need; but the -arrangement of the ground-floor suits me admirably, for I must have an -office." - -"Then you intend to practise?" - -"Certainly, I should be ashamed of myself if I gave up my profession; -but I do not intend to do anything out of office-hours, so it will not -confine me at all. I intend to take the entire charge of Rachel's -property until she is of age; meanwhile I want to give her a clear idea -of the value of money, so that she may be able to make a good use of her -immense fortune." - -"I will look about me," said Mrs. Berkley, "and if I hear of any lady -that I think will suit you in every way, I will let you know; but here -come the girls; they have been out to see Florence Stevenson." - -Rachel was delighted with the house her uncle had bought, for it was -only a few moments' walk from Mr. Berkley's, and she would be able to be -with Marion every day. The two girls commenced making plans for the -winter, Rachel deciding that the first thing she would do, when they got -into their new house, would be to have Florence in for a long visit. - -A few days after the conversation between Mrs. Berkley and Dr. Drayton, -Mr. Berkley received a letter from a distant cousin of his, a lonely -widow, who having lost her property, had written to him to see if he -could get her a situation as house-keeper in some refined family. Upon -showing this letter to his wife, she at once exclaimed that the lady was -the very person for Dr. Drayton. - -The necessary arrangements were soon made; the house was put in perfect -order, and elegantly furnished; and Dr. Drayton took his niece to as -delightful a home as one could wish to have, for Mrs. Marston proved to -be all that he desired. Cultivated and agreeable, she soon won his -heartfelt esteem, and Rachel loved her from their very first meeting. - -After the new household had got fairly settled, Dr. Drayton proposed to -Rachel that she should continue her German and French under his -direction. He spoke both languages as fluently as he did English, and -suggested that the lessons should consist entirely of conversation, and -reading aloud from some of the best French and German authors. Rachel -was very much pleased at his proposition, and asked if Marion might not -join with them. - -"Yes, if she likes," replied Dr. Drayton, in answer to her request; "but -I'm afraid her head will be too full of balls and parties, for her to -ever keep up a regular course of studies." - -"Why, Uncle Robert!" indignantly cried Rachel; "you don't know Marion at -all, or you would not say that!" - -"I don't pretend to," quietly replied the doctor; "but I suppose she is -very much like all other young ladies." - -"Indeed she is not," replied Rachel, energetically. "I don't know of a -girl that has as much strength of character as Marion." - -"Not even excepting Miss Florence?" - -"No, not even excepting her. I love Florence dearly; she is a lovely -girl, but there is something about Marion which _she_ has not got." - -"I should say so, decidedly," replied Dr. Drayton, with provoking -coolness. - -"Why, Uncle Robert, I never dreamed you didn't like Marion!" - -"Did I say I did not?" asked her uncle, as he unfolded the newspaper, -and glanced down its columns. - -"No, you didn't say exactly those words, but you implied it." - -"I was not aware of the fact," said the doctor, as he lighted his cigar. -"You said there was something about her different from Florence, and I -agreed with you. I suppose, with feminine perversity, you would have -preferred that I should have disagreed, thus giving you an opportunity -to make an argument in favor of your side of the question; next time -I'll remember." - -"Uncle Robert, you are perfectly provoking!" exclaimed Rachel, jumping -up, and taking the paper away from him; "there!--you shan't have it -until you've said something in Marion's favor." - -"Very well," replied her uncle, slightly raising his eyebrows; "you -enumerate the catalogue of her virtues, and I'll subscribe to all I -can." - -"In the first place, she's very handsome," commenced Rachel. - -"Well, no, not exactly what I call handsome," said the doctor in a -deliberating tone; "she's not large enough for that." - -"Beautiful then; that's better still." - -"Well, yes,--I suppose you think so." - -"But it isn't to be what I think," impatiently replied Rachel. "You -certainly _must_ acknowledge she has beautiful eyes; true as steel; the -kind of eyes you could trust!" - -"I'll examine them the next time I see her," replied Dr. Drayton, as he -laid back in his chair, and puffed a cloud of smoke into the air. -"Excellence No. 3, if you please, Rachel." - -"She's very intelligent, and an excellent scholar," replied Rachel, -tapping the floor with her foot, and trying not to get provoked. - -"As yet I have never had any conversation with her of any deeper import -than the shade of your window-curtains; but I've no doubt she's at home -with any subject, and is a perfect walking 'Encyclopædia Americana.'" - -"Uncle Robert, you are incorrigible! you are determined _not_ to see any -good in her." - -"Not at all, my dear; the difficulty is, that after a six weeks' -acquaintance, you expect me to be as enthusiastic over her as you are -after a lengthy _school-girl_ intimacy." - -"I know what you mean to insinuate by a 'school-girl intimacy,' and I -agree with you that as a general thing they don't amount to anything; -but just let me tell you what Marion did for me, and then see if you'll -wonder that I'm '_enthusiastic_' over her." - -"Go on; I am prepared for anything. I suppose she rescued you from a -'watery grave' in true novel fashion." - -"She did more than that; she risked finding one herself. She walked all -alone, at midnight, from our school to the doctor's house, which is at -least a mile and a half, and crossed the river on a bridge _that the -flooring was taken off, and nothing for her to walk on but the beam -where the railing was_!" - -"A heroine, as I live!" cried the doctor, holding up both hands; -"something of which I've always had an innate horror." - -"Uncle Robert," said Rachel, really hurt, "I thought after that you'd at -least show some regard for her, if only for my sake." - -"My dear girl," he replied, drawing her towards him, "I certainly will -acknowledge that it was very brave in her; now give me my newspaper." - -"You don't deserve it, but you shall have it, if you will let Marion -join our lessons." - -"I should be delighted to have her; and Miss Florence too." - -"Florence won't be able to give her time to it, I know. She can't come -to make me a visit until spring, for she was away all summer, and her -father can't spare her yet." - -"Very well; you arrange everything with Mrs. Berkley; only the time must -not interfere with office-hours; before or after that I am at your -service." - -"You're the dearest uncle in the world!" exclaimed Rachel, kissing him. - -"Even if I don't worship your heroine." - -"Oh, don't call her a _heroine_, for mercy's sake! and above all don't -ever let her know that I told you." - -"My lips shall be sealed on the subject. Now run off, and let me read my -paper in peace." - -Marion was very much pleased with the plan for the French and German -lessons, and it was arranged that they should devote two hours, twice a -week, to each language, meeting alternately at Marion's and Rachel's -houses. Marion was a very good French scholar, and could manage to make -herself understood in German; but she was really afraid of Dr. Drayton, -and never did herself justice at the lessons. He was very patient and -kind, but nevertheless very critical, and corrected the pronunciation of -their German so many times, that Marion at last declared she never would -say another word, for she knew she never could suit him; but she found -him even more determined than M. Béranger, and soon learned, that if the -lessons went on at all, his directions must be strictly attended to; and -after a while the girls never thought of speaking English, during their -French and German hours. Mr. Berkley, who happened to look in upon them -one day when they were carrying on quite an excited argument, declared -they were all jabbering just to hear themselves talk, for he knew -perfectly well they couldn't any one of them understand a word the -others were saying. - - * * * * * - -The intimacy between the two families increased daily, and the Berkleys -welcomed Dr. Drayton most cordially to their family circle, finding him -in every way a most delightful companion. Intelligent, cultivated, and -refined, and having travelled over almost every country in Europe, he -had the rare gift of describing everything he had seen in such a manner -as to bring it vividly before the minds of his hearers, without -incessantly introducing the personal pronoun, which, as a general thing, -finds its way so often into a traveller's account of his journeyings. - -He became a general favorite with the family. Charley always ran to -meet him, and commenced a raid upon his pockets, sure of finding -something stowed away there for his especial benefit; the baby crowed -with delight whenever he came near him; and Fred bestowed upon him, -after their first meeting, the highest compliment he could pay a -man,--"he was a regular brick!" But Marion declared "she thought they -made altogether too much fuss over him, and she did not intend to join -with the family in setting him up as a perfect hero; she must say she -thought he was rather conceited, for he never paid her any attention, -and when young people were there, and they were all having a nice time -in the parlor, he always sat off with papa and mamma, in the library, as -if he thought himself above such childish follies." - - - - -CHAPTER XXIII. - -THE DÉBUT INTO SOCIETY. - - -"And so it is to be a regular 'come-out party,'" said Dr. Drayton one -evening as he sat smoking with Mr. Berkley in the library, the rest of -the family being in the parlor. - -"Yes, a regular 'come-out party,'" repeated Mr. Berkley; "but I don't -intend to dash out, and make a great spread; hire Papanti's hall, etc. I -don't like that sort of thing. I shall invite enough to fill the house, -and yet not have it a perfect jam; have half-a-dozen pieces of music, -and a good supper; that's my idea of a party." - -"And a very correct idea, I should say," said the doctor. - -"Mrs. Berkley rather objected to giving it at all this winter. Marion is -still so young, she wanted me to wait another year; but you see, doctor, -I'm pretty proud of my only daughter, and I want her to go about in -society, before I get too old to go with her." - -"How old is Miss Marion?" asked Dr. Drayton. - -"Eighteen last May." - -"Older than Rachel; I thought her younger." - -"She looks younger, I think myself, and sometimes seems younger still; -but there's good stuff there. She's like her mother, and if I do say it, -she'll make a noble woman." - -"If she proves to be like her mother, she certainly will," replied Dr. -Drayton. "Mrs. Berkley is just my idea of what a wife and mother ought -to be." - -"That remark proves you a man of sense and discernment," said Mr. -Berkley, highly gratified, both by Dr. Drayton's words, and the warmth -of his tone. "But about this party; of course you will come, and dance -the 'German.'" - -"I certainly agree to come. It will be my first real entrance into -Boston society; but as for dancing, that's quite another thing; I gave -that up years ago." - -"Why, man alive!" exclaimed Mr. Berkley; "any one would think, to hear -you talk sometimes, you were a perfect Methuselah! Here, Marion!" he -cried, calling her in from the other room, "I want you to give Dr. -Drayton private lessons in dancing, so that he will be able to get -through the 'German' at your party." - -"I am much obliged to Miss Marion," said Dr. Drayton, quietly; "but it -is too late for me to begin now; I must decline her services." - -"Perhaps it would be as well if you waited until I offered them," -replied Marion, haughtily, piqued at the coolness of his manner. "I -certainly had no intentions of becoming a dancing-mistress for you or -any one else!" - -The doctor made no reply, but Mr. Berkley laughed aloud, as he -exclaimed: "Look here, Marion, that Thornton has spoiled you! You are so -used to having him consider it an honor to be allowed to pick up your -handkerchief, that you begin to think that every one else must do the -same." - -"Papa, how unkind!" said Marion, flushing to the roots of her hair; "I -don't know as Mr. Thornton ever picked up my handkerchief in his life, -and he wouldn't be so foolish as to consider it an honor if he had." - -"No?" replied her father, in the most provoking way; "but there,--you -shan't be teased any more! Just turn round, and smile sweetly on the -doctor, and tell him you don't think he's too old to come to your -party, and you'll let him, if he'll promise to be a good boy." - -"I don't care whether he comes or not," cried Marion, struggling to get -away from her father. - -"If that is the case," said Dr. Drayton, "I shall certainly come, simply -for my own amusement. I didn't know but my presence might be -particularly disagreeable to you; but as you seem so thoroughly -indifferent, I shall come, and look on with the other old folks." - -Marion bit her lips, and said nothing; but as her father still held her -hand, so that she could not get away, she seated herself on the arm of -his chair with her face turned towards the fire. - -"Doctor," said Mr. Berkley, "why don't you shave off that beard? It -makes you look five years older than you are." - -"That is my mask," replied the doctor, stroking his beard with his right -hand; "I could not part with it." - -"What, in the name of sense, do you want of a mask?" - -"Unluckily for me, my mouth is the telltale feature of my face. I found, -when I first became a surgeon, that my patients could tell by its -expression whether they were to live or die; so I covered it up with -this beard. After I had been at the hospital several years, and had seen -sights that the very telling of them would make you shudder; when I -performed operation after operation without flinching, or even having -the slightest feeling of repugnance, I thought I must have got my mouth -under perfect control, and so ventured to trim my mustache and shave my -beard. That very morning I had to attend a poor fellow who had had his -leg amputated the day before; during the examination I never looked at -him, for I felt his eyes were fixed on my face. Suddenly he exclaimed: -'It's no use, doctor; you can keep your eyes down, but you can't hide -your mouth,--that says death.' It was the truth; mortification had set -in, and he died the next morning. After that I let my beard grow, and so -long as I remain a surgeon, which I shall so long as my hand is steady -enough to guide the knife, it will stay as it is." - -"Well, I think you are right," said Mr. Berkley; "but by and by, when -you get a wife, perhaps she will think differently, and the beard, and -the profession too, may have to go. The last, I hear, pays you nothing." - -"If ever I get a wife," replied Dr. Drayton, "she will probably think as -I do,--that, as I have been blessed with more than an ample fortune, I -should be a heartless wretch, if I did not devote my skill to the relief -of the suffering poor." - -Marion, who had listened silently to the above conversation, finding her -father had released his hold of her hand, slipped quietly away. - -The weeks flew past, and the eventful day, when Marion was to make her -dêbut into fashionable society, at last arrived. - -Rachel, of course, would not go to the party, as she was still in deep -mourning; but Florence was to stay all night with Marion, and Rachel -went round early with her uncle, that she might see her two friends in -the full splendor of their first ball-dresses. She went directly to the -drawing-room, where she heard the voices of the girls, leaving her uncle -to find his way to the dressing-room. - -"Hands off these two pieces of dry-goods!" cried Fred, who was capering -round his sister and Florence, in a perfect state of delight, and all -the glories of his first dress-coat, when Rachel entered the room. "You -may admire as much as you please; but you can't touch 'em with a -ten-foot pole." - -"Get out of the way, Fred," said Marion, putting him aside as she went -forward to meet Rachel; "she shall touch me as much as she pleases. How -do you like it, Rachel? Is it just the thing?" - -"I should say it certainly was!" exclaimed Rachel, enthusiastically. "I -never saw anything so lovely in my life; and you two look so pretty -together!" - -"You see our dresses are made just alike," said Florence, buttoning her -gloves; "only my flowers are pink, and hers white." - -The two girls certainly did look lovely. Their dresses were of white -tarlatan, puffed and ruffled sufficiently to be quite à la mode, but -still so light and delicate as to give them a floating, airy appearance, -and not make them look like exaggerated fashion-plates. Marion's was -caught, here and there, with white daisies and delicate grasses, a -wreath of the same in her hair; while Florence's was trimmed with pink -roses and buds. - -"May I be allowed to come in at this early hour?" inquired Dr. Drayton, -as he appeared on the threshold. - -"Yes, indeed," laughed Marion, advancing to meet him, and stopping in -the centre of the room, to drop him a profound courtesy; "you are my -first arrival." - -"And as such claim your acceptance of this bouquet, which I hope you -will honor me by carrying during the evening." - -Marion looked up very much surprised, as he held towards her an -exquisite bouquet. He was the last man from whom she would have expected -such an attention. - -"I am very sorry, Dr. Drayton, but you see Fred has one in his hand -which I promised a week ago I would carry to-night; but I am just as -much obliged, and will set it on the stand close to where I sit in the -'German.'" - -"No, indeed," replied the doctor, without the slightest appearance of -annoyance; "my poor bouquet shall not be so set aside. Mrs. Berkley, -will you honor me?" - -"I say, Marion," exclaimed Fred, as Marion took her bouquet from his -hand, "what a pity you promised Thornton you'd carry his! The doctor's -is twice as handsome!" - -"So it's Mr. Thornton who has got ahead of me?" said the doctor. "Miss -Florence, I hope I am not to be equally unfortunate with you;" and he -presented her with a beautiful bouquet, which he had until that moment -held behind him. - -"Oh, thank you!" cried Florence, perfectly delighted; "you know it's not -my dêbut, and no one else has thought of honoring me; it was very kind -of you. See, Marion, isn't it lovely?" - -"Yes, very," replied Marion, as she bent over it, inwardly provoked with -herself for being annoyed because the doctor had not only handed over -her bouquet to her mother with such perfect nonchalance, but had also -brought one for Florence. - - * * * * * - -But guests were soon seen passing through the hall on their way to the -dressing-rooms, and Rachel was obliged to hurry off; soon the rooms -began to fill, and before long the wonderful "German" was at its height. - -The doctor felt himself a stranger in a strange land; he had been -introduced to, and conversed with, several young ladies, but now all -conversation was broken up by the "German," and he stood leaning against -the door-way, and watched the dance as it proceeded. He noticed several -men, much older than himself, dancing with fair young girls; and he -wondered within himself if they were really enjoying themselves, and why -it was that he stood like one shut out from all the pleasures of youth, -young in years but old in feelings; in fact, he was getting a trifle -misanthropical, when Marion floated slowly past him, waltzing with -Arthur Thornton. As they passed, so near that her draperies touched him, -he heard Mr. Thornton say, in a low tone full of meaning, "Marion you -are enough to make a man mad, to-night! You are almost too lovely!" - -"So," thought the doctor, as he turned away, "it is all settled. Well, I -supposed as much." - -He did not see Marion as she abruptly stopped dancing, and looked at -poor, infatuated Arthur with a frigid glance, which made his heart leap -to his throat, as she said, "Mr. Thornton, you forget yourself; will you -lead me to my seat?" - -Poor Arthur! it was his first rash act; he had loved Marion so well, and -tried so hard to conceal it until he was sure of her feelings; but -to-night as he said, she was almost too lovely, and before he had -thought of the consequences he had called her by name and told her so. -It was his first act of tenderness and his last, for now he knew as well -that to her he could never be anything more than a friend, as if she had -refused him point-blank. Poor fellow! it was a hard blow, but he did not -stagger under it; he danced the "German" with as much apparent gayety, -and hid his grief under as bright a smile as ever graced a ball-room. -But though he flattered himself that no one knew the pain he suffered, -there was one, who, although she neither heard his remark, nor Marion's -answer, witnessed the little scene between them, saw the frigid look in -Marion's eyes, and the light die out of his, and her heart ached for the -poor fellow, as only the heart of a young girl can ache, over the -sorrows of a man whose happiness is dearer to her than her own. - - * * * * * - -The next morning Rachel was in the dining-room, waiting for her uncle to -come to breakfast. She had watered and arranged the plants, and now -stood tapping impatiently on the window-pane, and wondering why he was -so late; but he soon made his appearance, coming in with Mrs. Marston. - -"O Uncle Robert!" she exclaimed, "I began to think you were never -coming; don't you know I'm dying to hear about the party?" - -"My dear, if I had known you were in such a terrible state of mind and -body," replied her uncle, as he seated himself at the table, "I would -have come down at six; but if you will take the trouble to look at the -clock, you will see it is you who are early, not I who am late." - -"Well, never mind that," impatiently replied Rachel; "how did Marion -look?" - -"Didn't you see for yourself?" - -"Oh! that was before any one had got there, and she was not at all -excited; she's always lovelier then, she has such a beautiful color, and -it makes her eyes handsomer than ever." - -"I don't think it's necessary for me to say anything, do you, Mrs. -Marston?" said the doctor, as he calmly stirred his coffee; "just -imagine her as you saw her, only a little excited, and you'll know -exactly how she looked." - -"Did she have much attention?" - -"You could hardly expect anything else, as the party was at her house." - -"Oh! of course people would be polite; but wasn't there anybody -particularly attentive? Didn't she get 'taken out' a great deal?" - -"'Taken out?'" repeated the doctor, with a puzzled expression. "Mrs. -Marston, can you enlighten me?" - -"Oh, yes!" laughed Mrs. Marston; "that is only one of the mysterious -phrases of the 'German,' which being interpreted means, did a great many -gentlemen ask her to dance?" - -"Oh, thank you," replied the doctor. "Yes, Rachel, she got 'taken out' a -great deal; in fact she seemed to be out all the time." - -"There! _that's_ what I wanted to know," said Rachel, in a tone of -satisfaction; "now tell me about Florence." - -"I'll try to answer you in the most approved style. She looked very -charming indeed; seemed to have plenty of admirers, for I noticed that -Miss Marion managed to have her share her honors, and made her the guest -of the evening; she was 'taken out' a great deal, and above all, -continued to carry my bouquet the whole evening without dropping it." - -"I'm so glad," cried Rachel, "but wasn't it a shame that Arthur Thornton -should have sent his bouquet to Marion first?" - -"A shame? Why, no indeed," answered her uncle, with the utmost -composure; "for if he had not, she would have been obliged to carry -mine, and I know she preferred Mr. Thornton's." - -"I don't believe it; yours was a great deal handsomer." - -"Oh! that's not the point! Of course you must see that Mr. Thornton is -to be _the_ man." - -"Uncle Robert, how absurd! I don't believe Marion would ever have him in -the world!" - -"And why not, I should like to know? He is handsome, intelligent,--in -fact, a very good fellow every way, and has plenty of money." - -"But Marion never will marry for money!" cried Rachel. - -"I don't say she will; but what is your objection to Mr. Thornton?" - -"I haven't any at all; I like him very much, but he would never do for -Marion. She wants a much stronger man than he." - -"Well, perhaps he will develop his muscle," replied Dr. Drayton, coolly. - -"Uncle Robert! you know I don't mean that kind of strength!--mental -strength; some one in every way superior to herself; in fact, some one -that she could feel was her master." - -"Master! I can't imagine Miss Marion yielding her own sweet will to any -one." - -"Rachel is right," said Mrs. Marston; "when Marion marries she will -choose a man much older than herself." - -"Well, time will show," said Dr. Drayton; "but Rachel, if Marion Berkley -is not engaged to Mr. Thornton at the end of six months, I'll give you -the handsomest diamond ring I can buy at Bigelow's." - - - - -CHAPTER XXIV. - -CONCLUSION. - - -The days and weeks flew by like hours, and Marion found herself -surrounded by a crowd of admirers, and one of the acknowledged belles of -the season. Balls, parties, receptions, matinées, and formal calls took -up all her time, and what with lying abed in the morning to make up for -her late hours, the days were fairly turned into night, and night into -day. Mrs. Berkley remonstrated as she saw her daughter drifting farther -and farther out on the sea of fashionable society, but it was now too -late; she could not refuse all the invitations that were showered upon -her, and those that she would have been glad to decline, her father -would not allow her to, for fear of giving offence. She had at first -made a struggle to keep up her French and German, but at last gave it up -as useless, for if she had no engagement for those hours, she was too -tired and worn out by her dissipation to attend to them properly. - -Rachel felt extremely sorry to be obliged to tell her uncle that his -prediction had proved true; that Marion's time was too much occupied -with balls and parties for her to attend the lessons; but she added a -saving clause, to the effect that when Lent put an end to the extreme -gayeties of the season, Marion would be glad to join them. - -"If she wishes to join us then, well and good," said Dr. Drayton; "but -Rachel, I want you to fully understand, that you must never ask her to -do so; she must come back to us as she left us, of her own free will." - -Marion felt far from satisfied with the life she was leading. At first -it was very delightful to find herself so much admired; to know that the -honor of her hand for the "German" was sought days in advance by the men -who were considered the bright, particular stars of the fashionable -world; to have hardly a day go by that did not bring her an exquisite -bouquet, or basket of flowers; never go to the theatre or opera that -several young exquisites did not come to her seat for a chat between the -acts! Oh, it was very delightful indeed; and for a while she thought she -had never been so happy in her life. But only for a while; she grew -tired at last of hearing the same things said to her night after night, -over and over again; she knew she was wasting her life; the precious -moments and hours that would never come again. Her health, too, began to -give way under this constant dissipation. She had frequent dull -headaches, and could not keep herself from being irritated at trifles -that she would never have noticed before. Even her father began to -complain that "she was going out almost too much; he never had a quiet -evening at home, and as for her music he had not heard her touch the -piano for weeks." - -Just about this time she received a letter from Mme. Béranger. She wrote -in a bright, happy strain, giving an account of what was going on at the -school, alluding with a little conjugal pride to the beneficial -influence which M. Béranger exerted over the scholars, and the respect -which he inspired, not only from them, but from Miss Stiefbach also. - -She concluded by saying:-- - - "And now, my dear Marion, I am going to speak of yourself, a - subject about which I know very well you do not care to have much - said; but you will bear it patiently I feel sure from your old - teacher, who says with truth, that, dear as all her scholars have - been to her, none ever came so near, so completely won her love, as - you have done. - - "I wanted to tell you, before the close of school last autumn, how - much I rejoiced in the victories which I saw you were daily gaining - over yourself; but the opportunity never seemed to arrive when I - could do so without appearing to force myself upon you. - - "It would make you happy, I know, if you could hear yourself spoken - of as I am almost daily in the habit of hearing your name mentioned - by one or more of the scholars, in the kindest, most affectionate - terms. - - "It is a good thing when a girl leaves school carrying with her the - love and admiration of her school-mates, and leaving behind her - nothing but regret that she is no longer there to join in their - studies, or lead them in their fun and frolic. - - "Now you have done with school-days, and it is very probable that - many of your school-mates you may never meet again; you will form - new friends wherever you go, and to a certain extent owe some - duties to society; but I cannot imagine you as among the class of - young ladies, who, the moment the doors of the school-room close - behind them, consider their education finished, and so straightway - give up all sensible occupations, and fritter away their time in - fashionable dissipation. I have seen too much of you, understand - your nature too well, to believe you capable of such folly; but - temptations of various kinds will come to you in the future, as - they have come in the past, and the same sense of right, the same - determination to conquer yourself, which helped you to overcome the - faults of your girlhood, will strengthen and sustain you in your - endeavors to attain a pure, noble womanhood. - - "But I fear you will think I am writing you a sermon, and that I - have forgotten that you have passed from under my authority, but - 'the spirit moved me,' and so I have spoken; if I have said more - than I ought, forgive me, and take it kindly from your old Miss - Christine. - - "My sister wished to be kindly remembered to you, and my husband - says: Faites mes amitiés à Mlle. Berkley. Good-by, my dear, - - "From your true friend, - - "CHRISTINE BÉRANGER." - -Marion's conscience smote her as she read the letter, and thought how -far short of all Mme. Béranger had hoped she would be, of all she had -determined for herself, was the life she was now leading. Day by day -she became more and more discontented with herself, as she saw how -completely she had given her time to what her teacher had rightly -called, "fashionable dissipation." - -Lent at last arrived, and Marion, although not an Episcopalian, welcomed -it with delight, for now there would be few if any, large parties, and -she would have a chance to rest. She was determined to commence a course -of history; practise at least two hours a day, and, if Rachel proposed -it, commence again her French and German, in which her friend had made -such astonishing progress as to make Marion thoroughly ashamed of -herself. But, much to Marion's surprise, Rachel did not propose it, -neither did Dr. Drayton, before whom she had mentioned several times how -sorry she was to find herself so far behind Rachel. She thought it very -strange that the doctor did not again offer to teach her with his niece, -and resolved, if she could ever manage to humble herself sufficiently to -ask a favor of him, she would tell him herself she wanted to rejoin the -class. - -An opportunity offered itself sooner than she had expected. The doctor -had a fine baritone voice, and was extremely fond of music. Rachel, as a -general thing, was able to play his accompaniments for him, but now and -then he bought a new song too difficult for her to manage, and he often -brought them, at Mr. Berkley's suggestion, for Marion to play for him. -One evening he made his appearance with a piece of music in his hand, -and said, as he shook hands with her:-- - -"Miss Marion, I have a song here that is most too much for Rachel: will -you do me the favor of playing the accompaniment?" - -"Yes," replied Marion, as she took the music, and glanced over it; "on -one condition." - -"And that is?" said the doctor. - -"That you will let me come back to the French and German readings." - -"Are you quite sure you want to come?" asked the doctor, looking down -upon her, and speaking very much as he would have done to a naughty -child. - -"Very sure," replied Marion, almost provoked with herself for not being -able to say the contrary. - -"Very well then, come," said the doctor, in a lower tone, as he arranged -the music for her. "You must want to very much, if you would be willing -to ask it as a favor from me." - -Marion bit her lips and said nothing. She had intended to make it appear -that she was granting the favor; but the doctor had reversed the order -of things. The next day the old studies were commenced, and Marion took -hold with a will, determined to conquer all difficulties and put herself -by the side of Rachel. She was at first extremely mortified to find how -many mistakes she made, and how much she had forgotten; but the doctor -was more patient than ever before, and she soon made great improvement. - -Of late Marion had seen very little of Mr. Thornton, and now that she -was not going about so much, she began to miss his bright, pleasant -face, and many little attentions: and as Saturday after Saturday went -by, and he did not make his appearance with Fred, as he had formerly -been so often in the habit of doing, she asked her brother what had -become of him. Fred's answer was, that "Thornton was cramming like -blazes; he meant to leave college with flying colors." - -At first Marion felt a little chagrined that he could so soon have -forgotten her, and had half a mind to write him a charming little note, -inviting him over to spend Sunday; but she knew it would only be holding -out a prospect of encouragement which she never really meant to give -him, and so she refrained. - -Summer at last arrived, and the Berkleys and Draytons were making -preparations for spending it among the White Mountains. Fred had urged -them to stay for "Class-day," as Arthur Thornton graduated this year; -but Marion's unusually pale cheeks told too plainly that either the -dissipations of the winter, or some other unexplainable cause, had made -a deep inroad on her health, and her parents were glad to get her away -from the city. - -Florence's father had married again, and had taken a cottage at the -beach for the summer; so she had declined Rachel's invitation to again -make one of their party. - -They travelled slowly through the mountains, stopping for days at a time -at whatever place seemed to them as particularly pleasant. It was too -early for the great rush of fashionable visitors, and they enjoyed -themselves the more on that account. - -After having spent several weeks in this manner, they settled down for -the rest of the summer at a little hotel unknown to fame, and rarely -visited except by pedestrians and artists wandering about in search of -the most beautiful views. - -Marion had by this time entirely regained her strength, and could climb -about the mountains, and take as long walks as any of the party; but -still she did not seem the same as in former days. Her father and mother -did not notice the change, for with them she was always as gay as ever, -and they were perfectly happy to see her so well,--slightly tanned with -the summer's sun, and a bright color always glowing in her cheeks. - -But Rachel wondered what had come over her, for when they were alone she -seemed so much more quiet and preoccupied, that her friend could hardly -realize it was the same Marion Berkley she had known at school. The -doctor, too, silently noticed her altered manner, and had his own -opinion as to the cause. - -One day towards the close of summer, Marion was sitting on a little -piazza, which belonged exclusively to the private parlor used by their -party. A book was in her lap, but her hands lay idly on its open pages, -as she sat lost in a reverie, from which she was roused by Dr. Drayton -as he came round the house, and stood holding a letter over her head, -exclaiming, "See what I have for you, Miss Marion! Can you tell the -writing from here?" - -"Oh, yes!" exclaimed Marion, in a delighted tone, reaching up her hand -to take it; "it's from Florence. Do let me have it." - -"Not until you promise me," said the doctor, holding the letter out of -her reach, "that you will tell me how you honestly feel about the most -important piece of news this letter contains." - -"I promise," said Marion, smiling. "It will probably be that her new -mamma has given her a lovely picture, and she is the dearest mamma in -the world." - -"Never mind what it is," said the doctor; "you have promised;" and he -leaned against the pillar opposite Marion, apparently engaged in reading -a letter which he had held open in his hand during their conversation, -but in reality furtively watching the expression of her face, for he -knew what news the letter contained, and wanted to judge of its effect -upon her. - -She read on, smiling to herself as Florence went into ecstasies over the -kindness of her new, darling mamma. Then suddenly an expression of -intense surprise passed over her face, which was succeeded by one which -it would be difficult to define, as the letter dropped into her lap, and -she sat looking straight before her, but evidently seeing nothing, and -entirely forgetful of the doctor's presence. - -"Poor child!" he thought, as he watched the tears slowly gathering in -her eyes; "it has come at last, and she so young! It is cruel in me to -watch her; but I _must_ know how deeply it affects her." - -Suddenly Marion sprang up with the letter in her hand, and was running -through the long parlor-window, when the doctor called to her:-- - -"Miss Marion, have you forgotten your promise?" - -"No, indeed!" answered Marion, without looking round. "Stay there; I'll -be back in a moment." - -Dr. Drayton put his letter in his pocket, and folded his arms across his -breast as he leaned against the pillar, like Marion looking straight -before him, but seeing nothing. "If she can hide her wounds so bravely, -cannot I do the same?" thought he; "it would be too cruel for me to make -her tell me herself; I can at least spare her that." He was so lost in -thought, that Marion had again stepped on to the piazza, and stood -beside him before he was aware of her presence. - -"Now, doctor," she said, startling him by the brightness of her tone, -"I'm ready to be questioned. There _was_ quite an important piece of -news in the letter." - -"You need not tell me," he said very gently, "I know it already." - -"And how did you know it?" asked Marion, in a disappointed tone of -voice. "I was to be the first one told, and then _I_ was to tell -Rachel." - -"Your letter was delayed probably, and mine from Fred, written the next -day, when every one knew it, came in the same mail." - -"But you don't seem a bit glad," said Marion. "_I_ am perfectly -delighted." - -He looked down at her silently for a few moments. Could she be acting? -He would put her to the test. - -"Miss Marion, I _will_ hold you to your promise; you said you would tell -me honestly how you felt about this piece of news." - -"And so I will," replied Marion, surprised at his serious manner. "Mr. -Thornton is as fine a young man as I know, and has always been a good -friend of mine. When I tell you that I think him in every way worthy of -Florence, you may know that is the highest compliment I can pay him; and -I am perfectly delighted they are engaged." - -"And this is on your honor?" - -"On my honor," answered Marion, looking up at him with her clear, -truthful eyes. - -"I believe you," he said; "but forgive me if I ask why, feeling so, the -tears should have come into your eyes when you read the letter?" - -"Dr. Drayton," cried Marion, her face flushing, "it was too bad of you -to watch me! It is cruel in you to ask me." - -"I know it is cruel," he answered; "but nevertheless I _must_ ask you." - -"I will tell you," replied Marion, hurriedly, "or you will misunderstand -me. Florence and I have been very, very dear friends; we have loved each -other all our lives, as I think few girls rarely do love; there has -never been a cloud between us that was not soon cleared away; and when I -first read that she was engaged to Arthur Thornton, I could not help -feeling a little bit of sorrow, in spite of my greater joy, to think -that now she would have some one to take my place away from me. But that -feeling is all gone now--or will be soon," she added, choking down a -sob, that would come in spite of her. - -"Marion," he almost whispered, as he bent over her, "are you sure you -never loved Arthur Thornton?" - -"Very sure," answered Marion, not daring to raise her eyes, and blushing -crimson as he for the first time called her by name. - -He bent lower still, and was about to lay his hand upon her arm, when -Rachel rushed through the parlor-window, exclaiming, "Uncle Robert, -Marion can't marry Mr. Thornton, if she wants to ever so much, and I -want my diamond ring!" - -"The six months are past," replied her uncle. - -"I don't think that's fair, do you, Marion?" But Marion had slipped -away, and was nowhere to be seen. - -A few evenings later the three were sitting on the piazza, enjoying -their last night at the mountains. Mr. and Mrs. Berkley had retired -early, so as to feel bright and fresh for their homeward journey the -next day, but the rest had declared their intention of sitting up to -watch the moon, as it went slowly down behind the distant hills. - -"Rachel," said Dr. Drayton, as he threw away his cigar, "how should you -like to go to Europe next spring?" - -"Like it!" exclaimed Rachel, clasping her hands with delight. "I should -be perfectly happy!" - -"Well, I thought so," replied her uncle, "and I am going to take you." - -"O Uncle Robert! you are too good! Marion, isn't that splendid?" - -But before Marion could answer, Dr. Drayton went on, as if he had not -heard Rachel's remark. "Of course, it will not do for you to go -travelling over Europe with only me." - -"Take Mrs. Marston!" exclaimed Rachel, determined to surmount all -difficulties; "take Mrs. Marston; she's just the one!" - -"Oh, no!" replied her uncle, in a very decided tone; "she wouldn't do at -all; she's too old. I've been thinking about it for some time; you want -a young person, and so I am going to get married." - -"O Uncle Robert!" cried Rachel, jumping up, and taking hold of his arm; -"don't get married! please don't! I'd rather never go to Europe as long -as I live, than to have you do that!" - -"I am sure you are very kind indeed," replied her uncle, "to give up -your pleasure on my account; but really I don't see as I can very well -help being married now, for I've asked the lady, and she said yes." - -"O uncle! uncle! to think of your getting married just for the sake of -having some one to go to Europe with me! It's dreadful!" - -"Yes, dear, I think it would be, if that were the case; but to tell you -the truth I am very much in love with the lady myself." - -"Then I shall hate her!" exclaimed Rachel, dropping her uncle's arm,--"I -know I shall hate her!" - -Marion had been sitting perfectly quiet during this conversation, with -her back turned towards the speaker; she now rose, and attempted to pass -by Dr. Drayton into the parlor; but he caught her with both hands, and -turned her round towards his niece, saying, as he did so, "Allow me, -Rachel, to introduce you to your future aunt; if you don't love her for -my sake, try to for her own; she's worth it." - -Rachel stood in speechless astonishment, and Marion, also, could not -utter a word. - -"This is a pretty state of things, I must say," said the doctor. -"Rachel, won't you kiss your Aunt Marion?" - -"Kiss her!" exclaimed Rachel, finding her voice, and throwing her arms -round Marion's neck; "I thought I loved her before, but _now_ I shall -fairly worship her! I never was so happy in my life!" - -"Nor I either," whispered Marion, very softly. - -"But I don't understand it," cried Rachel, still in a state of -bewilderment. "I never thought of such a thing. I thought you didn't -like Marion at all, Uncle Robert." - -"I know it, my dear, and she thought the same; but I have satisfied her -to the contrary, and I guess I can you." - -"Ah! Uncle Robert," said Rachel, archly, "I guess I _shan't_ have the -handsomest diamond-ring at Bigelow's; I suppose Marion has that." - -"No, she has not," replied the doctor, lifting Marion's left hand, on -which Rachel could see in the moonlight a heavy, plain, gold ring. - -"What!--not diamonds?" - -"No," replied the doctor, as he held the hand in both his own; "my wife -shall have all the diamonds she wants, but this ring must be plain -gold." - -"Are you satisfied, Marion?" asked Rachel. - -Marion gave a quick glance up at the doctor, then looked at Rachel, as -she answered, "Perfectly." - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Marion Berkley, by Elizabeth B. 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