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- float: left; - margin-right: 1em } - -.align-right { clear: right; - float: right; - margin-left: 1em } - -.align-center { margin-left: auto; - margin-right: auto } - -div.shrinkwrap { display: table; } - -/* SECTIONS */ - -body { margin: 5% 10% 5% 10% } - -/* compact list items containing just one p */ -li p.pfirst { margin-top: 0; margin-bottom: 0 } - -.first { margin-top: 0 !important; - text-indent: 0 !important } -.last { margin-bottom: 0 !important } - -span.dropcap { float: left; margin: 0 0.1em 0 0; line-height: 1 } -img.dropcap { float: left; margin: 0 0.5em 0 0; max-width: 25% } -span.dropspan { font-variant: small-caps } - -.no-page-break { page-break-before: avoid !important } - -/* PAGINATION */ - -.pageno { position: absolute; right: 95%; font: medium sans-serif; text-indent: 0 } -.pageno:after { color: gray; content: '[' attr(title) ']' } -.lineno { position: absolute; left: 95%; font: medium sans-serif; text-indent: 0 } -.lineno:after { color: gray; content: '[' attr(title) ']' } -.toc-pageref { float: right } - -@media screen { - .coverpage, .frontispiece, .titlepage, .verso, .dedication, .plainpage - { margin: 10% 0; } - - div.clearpage, div.cleardoublepage - { margin: 10% 0; border: none; border-top: 1px solid gray; } - - .vfill { margin: 5% 10% } -} - -@media print { - div.clearpage { page-break-before: always; padding-top: 10% } - div.cleardoublepage { page-break-before: right; padding-top: 10% } - - .vfill { margin-top: 20% } - h2.title { margin-top: 20% } -} - -/* DIV */ -pre { font-family: monospace; font-size: 0.9em; white-space: pre-wrap } - -</style> -<title>MONICA'S CHOICE</title> -<meta name="PG.Rights" content="Public Domain" /> -<meta name="PG.Title" content="Monica's Choice" /> -<meta name="PG.Producer" content="Al Haines" /> -<link rel="coverpage" href="images/img-cover.jpg" /> -<meta name="DC.Creator" content="Flora E. Berry" /> -<meta name="DC.Created" content="1904" /> -<meta name="PG.Id" content="45432" /> -<meta name="PG.Released" content="2014-04-18" /> -<meta name="DC.Language" content="en" /> -<meta name="DC.Title" content="Monica's Choice" /> - -<link href="http://purl.org/dc/terms/" rel="schema.DCTERMS" /> -<link href="http://id.loc.gov/vocabulary/relators" rel="schema.MARCREL" /> -<meta content="Monica's Choice" name="DCTERMS.title" /> -<meta content="monica.rst" name="DCTERMS.source" /> -<meta content="en" scheme="DCTERMS.RFC4646" name="DCTERMS.language" /> -<meta content="2014-04-18T16:24:01.275930+00:00" scheme="DCTERMS.W3CDTF" name="DCTERMS.modified" /> -<meta content="Project Gutenberg" name="DCTERMS.publisher" /> -<meta content="Public Domain in the USA." name="DCTERMS.rights" /> -<link href="http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/45432" rel="DCTERMS.isFormatOf" /> -<meta content="Flora E. Berry" name="DCTERMS.creator" /> -<meta content="2014-04-18" scheme="DCTERMS.W3CDTF" name="DCTERMS.created" /> -<meta content="width=device-width" name="viewport" /> -<meta content="EpubMaker 0.3.20 by Marcello Perathoner <webmaster@gutenberg.org>" name="generator" /> -</head> -<body> -<div class="document" id="monica-s-choice"> -<h1 class="center document-title level-1 pfirst title"><span class="x-large">MONICA'S CHOICE</span></h1> - -<!-- this is the default PG-RST stylesheet --> -<!-- figure and image styles for non-image formats --> -<!-- default transition --> -<!-- default attribution --> -<!-- -*- encoding: utf-8 -*- --> -<div class="clearpage"> -</div> -<!-- -*- encoding: utf-8 -*- --> -<div class="align-None container language-en pgheader" id="pg-header" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span>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 </span><a class="reference internal" href="#project-gutenberg-license">Project Gutenberg License</a><span> -included with this eBook or online at -</span><a class="reference external" href="http://www.gutenberg.org/license">http://www.gutenberg.org/license</a><span>.</span></p> -<p class="noindent pnext"></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<div class="align-None container" id="pg-machine-header"> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span>Title: Monica's Choice -<br /> -<br />Author: Flora E. Berry -<br /> -<br />Release Date: April 18, 2014 [EBook #45432] -<br /> -<br />Language: English -<br /> -<br />Character set encoding: UTF-8</span></p> -</div> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst" id="pg-start-line"><span>*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK </span><span>MONICA'S CHOICE</span><span> ***</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst" id="pg-produced-by"><span>Produced by Al Haines.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span></span></p> -</div> -<div class="align-None container frontispiece"> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 3em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="the-young-clergyman-climbed-carefully-but-quickly-down-to-them"><span class="bold medium">[Frontispiece: "THE YOUNG CLERGYMAN CLIMBED -<br />CAREFULLY BUT QUICKLY DOWN TO THEM" -<br />(missing from book)]</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -</div> -<div class="align-None container titlepage"> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="x-large">MONICA'S CHOICE</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="medium">BY</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="large">FLORA E. BERRY</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="small">AUTHOR OF -<br />"NETA LYALL," "IN SMALL CORNERS," ETC.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 3em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><em class="italics medium">WITH SIX ILLUSTRATIONS</em></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 3em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="medium">London -<br />S. W. PARTRIDGE & CO. -<br />8 & 9, PATERNOSTER ROW -<br />1904</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="bold large">CONTENTS</span></p> -<p class="noindent pnext"><span class="small">CHAP.</span></p> -<ol class="upperroman simple"> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#i-wish-conrad-had-never-left-her-with-me">"I WISH CONRAD HAD NEVER LEFT HER WITH ME"</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#such-a-dear-little-monkey">"SUCH A *DEAR* LITTLE MONKEY!"</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#i-m-moved-up">"I'M MOVED UP!"</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#i-wish-you-d-be-friends-with-me">"I WISH YOU'D BE FRIENDS WITH ME"</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#i-want-you-a-minute">"I WANT YOU A MINUTE"</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#he-weren-t-called-seize-er-for-nothin">"HE WEREN'T CALLED 'SEIZE-'ER,' FOR NOTHIN'"</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#this-is-monica-beauchamp-mother">"THIS IS MONICA BEAUCHAMP, MOTHER"</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#mind-you-are-not-late">"MIND YOU ARE NOT LATE!"</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#have-a-ride-monica">"HAVE A RIDE, MONICA?"</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#i-like-fussin-over-people">"I LIKE FUSSIN' OVER PEOPLE"</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#a-nice-enough-little-dog-as-dogs-go">"A NICE ENOUGH LITTLE DOG, AS DOGS GO"</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#a-hungry-feeling-in-my-brain">"A HUNGRY FEELING IN MY BRAIN"</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#a-nice-scrape-she-ll-get-into">"A NICE SCRAPE SHE'LL GET INTO!"</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#sunday-again-already">"SUNDAY AGAIN ALREADY!"</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#oh-monica-don-t">"OH, MONICA, DON'T!"</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#do-be-careful-girls">"DO BE CAREFUL, GIRLS"</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#don-t-persuade-me-not-to-any-more">"DON'T PERSUADE ME NOT TO, ANY MORE"</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#i-expect-it-will-be-rather-slow-and-pokey">"I EXPECT IT WILL BE RATHER SLOW AND--POKEY!"</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#you-tell-them-lois-i-couldn-t">"YOU TELL THEM, LOIS; I COULDN'T"</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#keep-it-up-it-answers-very-well">"KEEP IT UP, IT ANSWERS VERY WELL"</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#i-guess-i-ll-just-watch-you-a-bit">"I GUESS I'LL JUST WATCH *YOU* A BIT"</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#i-cannot-spare-you-monica">"I CANNOT SPARE YOU, MONICA!"</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#it-s-all-surprises-nowadays">"IT'S ALL SURPRISES, NOWADAYS"</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#i-think-my-monica-deserves-the-v-c">"I THINK MY MONICA DESERVES THE V.C."</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#the-child-has-chosen-well">"THE CHILD HAS CHOSEN WELL"</a></p> -</li> -</ol> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="bold large">LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#the-young-clergyman-climbed-carefully-but-quickly-down-to-them">"THE YOUNG CLERGYMAN CLIMBED CAREFULLY BUT QUICKLY -DOWN TO THEM"</a><span> (missing from book) . . . </span><em class="italics">Frontispiece</em></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#you-hit-her-expression-to-a-t">"'YOU HIT HER EXPRESSION TO A T!'"</a></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#ah-you-may-laugh-mebbe-tis-nothin-but-sport-to-young-leddies-like-you">"'AH, YOU MAY LAUGH; MEBBE 'TIS NOTHIN' BUT SPORT TO -YOUNG LEDDIES LIKE YOU'"</a></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#oh-miss-franklyn-i-am-so-awfully-sorry">"'OH, MISS FRANKLYN, I AM SO AWFULLY SORRY!'"</a></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#oh-roger-how-is-she-whispered-olive">"'OH, ROGER! HOW IS SHE?' WHISPERED OLIVE"</a></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#monica-gazed-in-utter-astonishment">"MONICA GAZED IN UTTER ASTONISHMENT"</a></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="i-wish-conrad-had-never-left-her-with-me"><span class="bold x-large">MONICA'S CHOICE.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 3em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER I.</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">"I WISH CONRAD HAD NEVER LEFT HER WITH ME!"</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"Tell Miss Monica I wish her to come to me -</span><em class="italics">at once</em><span>, Barnes."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The door closed silently after the retreating maid, -and Mrs. Beauchamp sighed wearily. How often, -lately, she had been obliged to send some such -message to her wilful young granddaughter, and, -how many more times would she have the same -thing to do? Her aristocratic features wore a -perturbed expression, as her slender fingers toyed -mechanically with the many rings on her left hand; -so great a responsibility was her only grandchild.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am sure I wish Conrad had never left her -with me," she mused; "and yet there seemed no -other solution of the difficulty when the regiment -was ordered out to Simla. It was impossible, of -course, to take her with him, and poor Helen was -so opposed to boarding-schools. But it has certainly -been a mistake having her here. Such an unruly, -passionate nature as Monica's needs very careful -handling, and not one of these governesses has had -the tact to manage her. I'm sure I don't know -what to do about her."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Beauchamp's ruminations were cut short by -the abrupt entrance of a girl of fifteen, tall, and -with a haughty mien, but possessing a face which -denoted much character, albeit it wore an unpleasant -scowl at the present moment. Pushing the door -to behind her with no gentle hand, so that it -slammed violently, causing a jingling among the -pretty knick-knacks with which the handsome -drawing-room was lavishly ornamented, Monica -Beauchamp stood before her grandmother, like a -young lioness at bay.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Barnes told me that you had sent for me, grand-mamma."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>With a visible shudder at the noise made by the -slamming door, Mrs. Beauchamp sat erect, and spoke -with much annoyance, as she gave the delinquent -an aggrieved look over her gold-rimmed pince-nez.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Really, Monica----" she began, in severe tones, -but she was interrupted.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Sorry," exclaimed her granddaughter, nonchalantly. -"I didn't mean to hurt your feelings, -but doors always seem to slip out of my fingers. -What did you want me for, grandmamma? Would -you mind being quick, because I'm in a great -hurry?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Even insubordinate Monica quailed before the -expressions which flitted across the old lady's -features--amazement, anger, and finally scorn.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am simply </span><em class="italics">astounded</em><span> at your rudeness, Monica," -she said, sternly. "How you can possibly allow -yourself to speak to me in such a manner, I cannot -imagine. It is very evident that you are no -Beauchamp."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The scorn expressed in her grandmother's tones -acted in the same way as a touch of the whip -about the ears of a thoroughbred mare. She -started, and tears of wounded pride welled up in -her flashing hazel eyes, but they were quickly forced -back.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I </span><em class="italics">am</em><span> a Beauchamp!" she cried, her lips quivering -with anger, and her head thrown back. "Every one -says I am my father over again."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"So you may be, in looks, Monica, but he would -never have dreamed of addressing me in the manner -you did just now."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, perhaps he wasn't aggravated like I am. -Miss Thompson is enough to provoke a saint," she -added, </span><em class="italics">sotto voce</em><span>, with a furtive glance at the old -lady's face.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But Mrs. Beauchamp took no notice of it; indeed, -it is doubtful if she heard the remark, so engrossed -was she in deciding how best to deliver the lecture -she had undertaken to give Monica. A startled -exclamation from her grandchild, who had been -moodily staring out of one of the French windows, -which overlooked a large sweep of the carriage -drive, effectually roused her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh! now he's gone; I do call it too bad!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What do you mean, Monica?" queried the -old lady, rising from her chair and following the -direction of Monica's glance.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Who has gone?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why, Tom. The stable-boy, you know, grand-mamma," -she added, as Mrs. Beauchamp looked -incredulous. "I was in the yard when you sent -for me, and he was telling me about the jolliest -little wire-haired terrier his father wants to sell, -and I----"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Monica, how many times have I told you I -will not allow you to frequent the stable-yard? -I am sure it is there that you pick up all the -vulgar expressions you are so continually using. -I begin to think Miss Thompson is right in saying -you are no lady."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Bother Miss Thompson!" cried Monica, now -thoroughly angry, and losing all control of her -words; "she's a sly old cat, that's what she is, -spying round after me all day long. It's the only -bit of fun I get, when I----"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Be quiet, Monica, and listen to me," said her -grandmother, who was scarcely less angry, but who -held herself in admirable check. "It is quite time -that some one controlled you, and I have sent for -you this afternoon to tell you that I am going -to----"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Send me away to boarding school?" interrupted -Monica, her anger temporarily subsiding, for, of all -things, she desired to go away to school, but it -had always been tabooed. "Oh! grandmamma, </span><em class="italics">do</em><span>! -I would really behave well there." And she seized -one of the old lady's white hands impulsively in -her warm, and decidedly dirty young fingers, while -the girlish face quivered with excitement, until she -looked a totally different being. But she was -doomed to disappointment.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nothing of the kind, Monica," replied -Mrs. Beauchamp coldly, and withdrawing her hand. She -never responded to her granddaughter's advances, -which probably accounted for the difficulty she had -in dealing with her; for Monica had a warm heart -hidden away somewhere, which no one but her -father had ever reached. "I was going to say, -when you so rudely interrupted me again, that as -you have had four governesses within very little -more than a year, who, one and all, have declared -that you are unmanageable, and that it is an utter -impossibility to teach you, I shall be obliged to -seek some other mode of education for you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Monica's face, which had fallen considerably at -the beginning of her grandmother's speech, now -brightened visibly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There is nothing else but boarding-school left," -she said, with satisfaction. It was to this end that -she had made the lives of her long-suffering -instructresses unendurable by her tricks and general -unruliness.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You know perfectly well, Monica, that you -will never go to a boarding-school," replied Mrs. Beauchamp.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That was only a fad of mother's," said Monica, -disdainfully. "Dad would never have forbidden it. -He thought no end of Harrow, and I'm sure he -would let me go to school if you told him what -a bother the old governesses are."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He knows what a trouble </span><em class="italics">you</em><span> are," said her -grandmother sententiously, and her glance fell on -a foreign letter lying on her escritoire near by, -which Monica now noticed for the first time.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh! have you heard from dad, grandmamma? -Is there a letter for me?" she cried eagerly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes. I have heard from your father, and there -is a letter for you," Mrs. Beauchamp repeated, -slowly, but she did not reach out her hand for it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Impetuous Monica was about to snatch it up, -but her grandmother stayed her hand.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Wait, Monica, until I have finished, and then -you may take your letter to the schoolroom to -read. For months I did not tell your father a -word about your troublesome ways, but lately you -have been so incorrigible that I was compelled -to let him know. And now this letter has come -in reply to mine, and your father is grieved beyond -expression. No doubt he will tell you the same -in your letter; and he wishes me to consult -Mr. Bertram, the lawyer, as to which school it will be -best to send you to, immediately. But ... it will -be a day-school. Now you may go."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Monica snatched up the letter handed to her -without a word, and was gone. Mrs. Beauchamp -breathed a sigh of relief, and rang the bell for tea; -the letter and consequent interview with her unruly -grandchild had tired her out.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Meanwhile Monica had fled to her own room, a -perfect little paradise, containing all the things most -dear to a young girl's heart. Everything in it, from -the dainty bed to the little rocking-chair beside the -open window, was blue; carpet, curtains, walls, all -took the prevailing tint, and most girls of Monica's -age would have revelled in such surroundings, and -have taken a pride in having everything kept in -spick-and-span order, in so charming a domain. But not -so Monica; one of her worst failings was untidiness. -The shoes which she had worn out of doors that -morning, and which had been carelessly tossed in a -corner, were making dirty little puddles on the blue -and white linoleum: for she had been caught in a -heavy April shower. Her hat and jacket had been -tossed promiscuously on to the most convenient -chair; one glove was lying on the bed, the other--well, -as a matter of fact she had dropped that half-way -home, but had not missed it yet; that would -mean a fruitless hunt through drawers, all more or -less in confusion, next time she went out. The -comb and brush she had hastily used, to make herself -sufficiently tidy to pass muster with her grandmother -at the luncheon table, were still lying on the dainty -little duchesse table, while the drawer which should -have contained them was half open, disclosing a -medley of all kinds.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>These are only samples of "Miss Monica's -muddles," as the long-suffering under-housemaid -(whose duty it was to keep the young lady's room -in order) called them. "I can't seem to keep things -tidy nohow," she would confide to the kitchenmaid; -"as soon as ever I get it straightened up of a morning, -in she bounces, and begins a-topsy-turvying up of -everything."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But Monica noticed none of these things; if -the room had been in absolute chaos she would -have been oblivious of it, while she held a thin sheet -of foreign paper, covered with her father's writing, in -her hand.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Pausing only to slip a tiny brass bolt into its -place, in order to secure privacy, she flung herself -into the little blue rocker, and tore open the envelope -with eager fingers.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As she read her letter, a smile of pleasure hovered -about her lips, for her father gave in his own racy -style a description of a Hindu </span><em class="italics">mela</em><span> at which he had -been present the day before; but soon her expression -changed, for his next topic was very different. It -was evident that he was deeply concerned about her -behaviour to her grandmother and governesses, and -the thought of her fast growing up into a headstrong, -self-willed young woman grieved him terribly. He -spoke of the loving little girl to whom he had bid -farewell only eighteen months before, and could -scarcely imagine that in so short a time she should -have become so changed; what would she be like -when he returned to England, if she were allowed -to follow her own way?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Monica's tears were slowly falling as she reached -the last page. She began to realise, for the first -time, that she was disappointing her father's hopes -for his only and much-loved child, and although the -knowledge was painful, it was very salutary. With -eyes blinded with tears, so that the writing seemed -blurred and indistinct, she read on to the end, and -then as she saw the well-known signature, she bowed -her proud young head on the broad window-ledge, -and sobbed as if her heart would break.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh! dad, my darling dad, if only you needn't -have left me, I would have tried to be just what -you wanted; but it's all so stiff and dull here, and -I am so lonely without any friend." For several -minutes she wept on unrestrainedly, and then a few -lines in the letter recurred to her, and she looked -at it once again. They ran thus--</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You see, my child, we must always remember -that we are all 'under authority.' Although I am -a colonel, I must obey orders just as unquestioningly -as the youngest recruit, and if my Monica would -be a true soldier's daughter, she must learn first of -all to be obedient. It is a hard, a very hard lesson -to learn, and neither you nor I can hope to master -it, unless we ask His help who was obedient even -unto death.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is difficult for me to explain what I mean, -for I am naturally very reserved over religious -things; but I am confident of this, my child, that -if you took Jesus Christ as your Example, you -would grow day by day more like Him, and you -would soon learn to shun all the faults and failings -which now threaten to spoil your character."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I wish I could, daddy dear," sighed Monica, -as she re-read the lines, "but there is no one here -to help me. I don't believe grandmamma is a bit -religious, for any little excuse is enough to keep -her away from church on Sunday mornings, and -she never goes out at night. And all the time I -have been here she has never said a word about -it, except to ask me once or twice if I remember -to say my prayers. Neither did any of the -governesses, except Miss Romaine, and grand-mamma -was glad when she went, because she said -she had such 'peculiar views.' Well, perhaps some -one at the new school will show me how to be -'good.'" And Monica tossed her letter into one of -the table drawers, and began with commendable zeal -to make herself more tidy than she had been for -a long time. She knew that that was one step in -the right direction.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The next day the family lawyer was closeted -with Mrs. Beauchamp for over an hour. She told -him of her son's desire that Monica should go daily -to school, and asked his advice as to a suitable -one.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There is not much choice in the neighbourhood -of Mydenham," said Mr. Bertram as he tapped his -gold-rimmed spectacles meditatively on his knee. -"We are just beyond the suburban limits here, you -see, and consequently suffer in various ways. Let -me see, there is Miss Beach's on the Osmington -Road; she receives a few day-scholars, I believe, -although hers is primarily a boarding school."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That will not do," replied the old lady decisively. -"The late Mrs. Conrad had a very strong objection -to a boarding-school life for Monica."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Certainly, certainly," agreed the obsequious man -of law, although he by no means agreed with the -late Mrs. Beauchamp's views; "then I do not see -that there is any other resource than the High -school at Osmington."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh! that is two miles away, and I have never -thought very much of High Schools; there is no -restriction as to the social position of the scholars. -Really, I don't think I----" And Mrs. Beauchamp -paused helplessly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"If the distance were not an insuperable objection, -I think, under the circumstances, no school -could better be calculated to meet with Colonel -Beauchamp's wishes," said the lawyer, with decision. -"You say he expressly desires his daughter to mix -with companions of her own age, and have the -opportunity of plenty of open-air exercise, and -yet be under firm, but well-regulated control. As -regards its educational system, I venture to say -that in very few respects can the High School -methods be improved upon. Of course, the girls -are drawn from varied ranks, but in a day school -it is unnecessary, indeed, it is impossible, for them -to have much opportunity of mixing with more -than a few of the pupils, and naturally your -granddaughter would make companions of those who -were in a similar social position to her own."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, I'm sure I don't know," replied Mrs. Beauchamp, -while her face still wore its perturbed -look; "Monica is so rash, she would be just as -likely to choose a butcher's or grocer's daughter -as any one else."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I doubt if there are many there," said Mr. Bertram, -smiling. "I have always heard that the -Osmington school is one of the best, and Mr. Drury -and Canon Monroe have daughters there, as -well as many other leading families."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"If the Osmington clergy think the school is -good enough, I suppose it is all right," agreed his -client, not without some misgivings, still. "The -distance is the difficulty; but Barnes must accompany -Monica, and the regular walks will, no doubt, be -good for her."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The majority of the pupils who live at a -distance bicycle there," observed the lawyer.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Most unwomanly!" was Mrs. Beauchamp's horrified -reply. "I cannot imagine what the mothers -of the present day are dreaming of. We might as -well have no girls at all; they seem to become -boys as soon as they can toddle. No, Monica -shall not have a bicycle. If she must go to the -school, she must; but she will walk when fine, and -Richards will have to drive her in the brougham -when it is wet. I suppose--oh, dear me! I do -wish she had been reasonable and got on with -her governesses."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>With an almost imperceptible shrug of his -shoulders, Mr. Bertram bade his client good-day, -having undertaken to make all necessary arrangements. -He was a childless man himself, but he -felt sure that had he possessed a high-spirited -daughter like Monica, he could have improved -upon Mrs. Beauchamp's method of up-bringing.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="such-a-dear-little-monkey"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER II.</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">"SUCH A </span><em class="bold italics medium">DEAR</em><span class="bold medium"> LITTLE MONKEY!"</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>But there were weightier matters in the lawyer's -mind than the choice of a school for incorrigible -girls, and he was soon pondering deeply -over a compensation case, as he strode along the -stretch of almost countrified road which connected -the residential district of Mydenham with the parent -town of Osmington.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He was nearing the latter, and had just consulted -his watch, in view of an important appointment, -when, turning a corner sharply, he collided with -a young lady of nineteen or thereabouts, who, with -a small brother and sister, was coming in the -opposite direction.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'm </span><em class="italics">so</em><span> sorry, Mr. Bertram."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My dear Miss Franklyn, I beg your pardon," -the lawyer ejaculated, as he straightened his hat -and readjusted his spectacles, which had nearly -fallen off in the contretemps. "I hope I didn't -hurt you?" and he looked apologetically into the -bright smiling eyes of the girl, who found it difficult -to refrain from laughing outright.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Not a bit, thank you," was Kathleen Franklyn's -reply. "It was quite as much my fault as yours. -I am afraid I was not looking where I was going; -these chicks were drawing my attention to an -organ-grinder, with a little monkey, across the road."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As she spoke, she looked round, expecting to find -the children close at hand. But alas! they had -seized the opportunity--far too delightful to -lose--of sister Kath's attention being distracted for a -moment, and with wonderful noiselessness and rapidity -had crossed the wide road, on which the traffic -was somewhat heavy, and were already some little -distance away, following with a small crowd of -children in the wake of the wonderful monkey.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh! those naughty children," she cried, "they -are always up to mischief. You and Mrs. Bertram -are saved no end of anxiety by having none."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"At any rate, they would have got past the -monkey-admiring age by now," was Mr. Bertram's -reply, albeit there was a gleam of sadness in his -eyes, and a sigh escaped his lips. "But we must -go after these young miscreants speedily."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh! please don't trouble," said Kathleen as she -walked on quickly beside him; "I shall soon pick -them up, and I know you are in a hurry."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Because I tried to knock you down," he replied, -with an amused laugh. "The mischief I have done -to-day is accumulating terribly."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"If you have done no one any more harm than -you have done me, I think you need not begin to -clothe yourself in sackcloth and ashes on account -of your sins at present," was Kathleen's saucily -given reply, as she shook hands hastily upon -reaching Mr. Bertram's office, and hurried after -the children, whom she had kept well in view.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"A charming girl," soliloquised the little lawyer -as he entered his dull-looking office, and felt as if -he had left all the brightness outside. "Franklyn -is to be envied having such a troop of young -people about him. But I daresay he looks at it -in quite another light: probably that of </span><em class="italics">£ s. d</em><span>. -Well, well, the best of us are never satisfied, but -I must say life would be very different for Mary -and me if we had a bright young thing like Kathleen -Franklyn about the house." And then he turned his -attention to legal affairs.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Meanwhile, Kathleen had succeeded in catching -up to the little truants, and was giving them a lecture -on their misbehaviour, in what was intended to be -a very severe tone.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It was really </span><em class="italics">very</em><span> naughty, Joan, very naughty -indeed. You are older than Paddy, and should -not have taken him into mischief." And she looked -reproachfully into the dark grey eyes of the little -girl, whose hand she now held tightly. "You might -have been knocked down, and run over, or even lost. -All sorts of things might have happened to you," she -added, piling on the agony, for she thought she might -as well do it thoroughly while she was about it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, Kathie, we didn't mean to be naughty, truly -we didn't," said little Joan, somewhat awed by the -calamities which her big sister was enumerating so -glibly; "did we, Paddy?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, didn't mean to be naughty," repeated -five-year-old Paddy solemnly, a simply seraphic look -on his sweet little face, which was surrounded by -a halo of golden curls. "But it was such a </span><em class="italics">dear</em><span> -little monkey!" And he half turned his head, with -a longing look after the object of his affections, now -almost out of sight in the distance.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But Kathleen drew him on. "Well, promise me -never to run off like that alone, again," she said, -"or poor mother would be dreadfully upset. Just -fancy if I had gone home without you, what would -she have said?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Spect she'd have said 'good riddance'!" was -Master Pat's saucy rejoinder, as he looked roguishly -up at his tall sister.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh! Pat, you are well called 'The Pickle,'" she -cried, as she held the little chubby hand even more -tightly, for this baby brother was the pet and -plaything of the whole family, albeit he kept them -continually on thorns with the endless mischief he -managed to get into.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Must you tell mother we ran away from you, -Kathie?" whispered Joan, beseechingly, as they -neared home. She was a very tender-hearted little -maiden, who would seldom have given any trouble -but for Paddy's mischievous suggestions, and the -thought of her mother being grieved troubled her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, dearie, I don't think we will tell her this time; -but you won't do it again, will you?" said -kind-hearted Kathleen, as she pushed open the heavy iron -gate, and the trio walked up the somewhat weed-covered -path, leading to a substantial red brick -house, well known in Osmington as Dr. Franklyn's.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As they entered the door, a girl of fourteen or so, -a younger edition of Kathleen, rushed out into the -hall.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What an age you've been, Kath!" she cried -impetuously. "Elsa and I thought you were never -coming. Did you get what we wanted?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, yes, Olive, I have it all right, but give me -time to breathe," said Kathleen, as her younger sister -began scrimmaging in her pocket. "Mind you don't -upset it!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You dear old granny, how can it be upset if it -isn't opened yet?" was the laughing reply, as Olive -succeeded in securing a large tin of enamel. "But, -oh! Kath, what shall we do for a brush?" And -her face fell considerably at the thought.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, I may be a 'granny,' but even they can -be useful, for I had the sense to bring not only one, -but two brushes!" And Kathleen produced them -with a merry laugh.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, you are a dear old darling"; and Olive -hugged her sister rapturously. "Now Elsa and I -can both paint at the same time. Send the children -to Nanny, Kath, and then come up quickly to the -'den.' We've only half an hour before tea."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She flew up the shabbily carpeted stairs, two steps -at a time, and finally arrived at the top story, -breathless. Bursting into one of the roomy attics, -Olive sank down upon the first chair she came to -from sheer want of breath; but she quickly got up -again with an exclamation of dismay, for she -remembered now it was too late that that was where -she had hastily stood the saucer of turpentine she -had been using when she rushed off downstairs to -meet Kathleen.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What's the matter, couldn't Kath get the paint?" -queried a voice from the other end of the quaint, -odd-shaped room, and her twin-sister came slowly -forward.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Strangers never knew Olive and Elsa Franklyn -apart, so much alike were they in outward -appearance, the dark hair and eyes, full rosy lips and -slightly upturned nose of the one being a perfect -replica of the other. But the similarity was only -external; in habits and character they were as widely -diverse as the poles. Elsa was as quiet and -methodical as Olive was noisy and impetuous in her -actions; indeed their mother sometimes said she -wished they could have been a little less alike -outwardly, and a little more alike inwardly. It would -have been better in every way, she thought; only -it was two Elsas, not two Olives, that she would -have chosen.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, I say, mother will be frantic!" cried Olive, -as she vainly endeavoured to see the extent of the -damage done to her light grey dress. Fortunately, -the saucer did not contain much more than the -dregs of the turpentine cook had given them, -somewhat gingerly; but alas! the old bookcase and -table that Olive had been seized with a desire to -rejuvenate, had been scarlet during the last phase -of their existence, so that the turpentine they had -been cleaning them with had become decidedly -reddish! Consequently the skirt had taken that -tone.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You </span><em class="italics">have</em><span> made yourself in a mess," was all Elsa -could say, as she stood helplessly looking at the -ugly stain which was growing visibly larger, for the -material had soaked up all the mixture.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"If that's all you can do to help, you may just -as well go on with your old hammering," blurted out -Olive, her vexation at the mishap fast turning into -anger, for she knew punishment would inevitably -follow upon discovery. "I never did know such a -stupid thing as you are, Elsa." And Olive blinked -desperately hard to keep back the tears, which -seemed as if they would choke, as well as blind her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't see </span><em class="italics">what</em><span> you can do," said poor Elsa, -bravely refraining from an angry retort. There -were those among her acquaintances who were -wont to declare that she had not sufficient spirit -to hold her own with her somewhat tyrannical twin -sister. But Elsa Franklyn had lately learnt that -it is "the soft answer that turneth away wrath;" -and although she was often sorely tempted to -return evil for evil, she remembered Him who never -answered back, and day by day the quiet, unobtrusive -girl was growing more like the Saviour whom she -humbly sought to please.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Hadn't you better change your dress, Olive," -she suggested, as her sister twisted the skirt, first -this way, and then that, to get a better idea of the -extent of the damage.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Quite a brilliant idea, Miss Elsa," was Olive's -sarcastic reply; "just what I was going to do." And -the girl, who knew she had only her own -carelessness to thank for the catastrophe, gave the -unoffending chair such a kick with her foot as -she was going out of the door, that the saucer, which -was still upon it, slid off the shiny seat, and falling -on the linoleum-covered floor, was smashed into -little bits.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, Olive!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Horrid, aggravating thing!" cried the hot-tempered -girl. "Won't old Cookey be mad, though? -She wanted to find an odd one, but she couldn't, -so she gave me one of the kitchen set. I </span><em class="italics">shall</em><span> -catch it, when she knows. But there's no hurry -about that, the frock's the worst."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Meanwhile, Elsa had been carefully collecting all -the broken bits of china into an old box-lid, and -was wiping up the floor with some rag they had -been using to clean their woodwork with. For a -minute she was inclined to let Olive bear the brunt -of the cook's wrath, as a punishment for her silly -outburst of temper, but the next she said quietly: -"I will take this down to the kitchen, Ollie, and -explain to cook, while you go and change your -frock. And if I can find Kathleen anywhere, I -will send her up to you. She will know what had -better be done to it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>With an incomprehensive look at Elsa, as if such -conduct were beyond her ken, Olive burst out, -"Well, you are a dear good creature, Elsa; I'm -sorry now I was cross to you," and she looked -affectionately into the quiet face Elsa lifted to hers, -as she rose from her stooping posture. They were -never at variance for long, this pair of twins, for if -Olive was careless and hot-tempered she was also -generous and affectionate.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I know you didn't mean it," was all Elsa said, -but the smile which irradiated her face at the words -of commendation was good to see.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Elsa soon put matters right with cook (who had -been for many years a faithful servant in the -doctor's busy household) and was on her way to -find Kathleen, when she heard her name called.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Elsa, dear!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Gently pushing open the door of a room that -was half bedroom and half boudoir, she found the -object of her search sitting beside a couch on which -reclined a delicate looking lady, who, from the -resemblance her daughter bore her, was unmistakably -their mother.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Did you want me, mamma?" she said, as she -bent over the invalid.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, darling, I heard a noise like something -falling upstairs a little while ago, and I was afraid -one of you was hurt."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Elsa had to stoop quite low to hear the whispered -words, for it had been one of the fragile mother's -bad days, and she was very weak.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In a few words Elsa explained the catastrophe, -taking care not to make the worst of Olive's temper; -but both the mother and Kathleen read between the -lines.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The latter rose hastily, a look of annoyance on -her girlish face.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Really, Olive is too careless," she said indignantly. -"She is always spoiling something; only last week -she tore a long zig-zag slit in her blue serge dress, -and now this grey one will be ruined, and she will -have nothing fit to go back to school in. I must -go and see what can be done, I suppose, but I shall -give her a good scolding."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Don't be too harsh with her, Kathie," pleaded -her mother. "It was very thoughtless of her, I -know, but she will soon grow older now and be -more careful. Girls will be girls." And she looked -at her tall, handsome daughter, who had never -given her a quarter of the trouble that Olive had, -with admiring and yet wistful eyes. How she wished -for the sake of her eight robust sons and daughters -that she had not been compelled, since Paddy's -babyhood, to spend the greater part of her life in her -own room. But yet she could not regret the -imprisonment, for it was only since she had been -forced to give up her busy active life in the large -household, where the doctor's income never seemed -sufficient to meet the huge demands made upon it, -that she had learnt that bringing up her boys and -girls to be healthy and happy was not all that was -necessary. God had taken the busy mother aside, -and had shown her that her children were only lent -to her, to be trained for Him. And she had heard -His loving voice, and was seeking now to do what -she could to make amends for the years of lost -opportunities. Her eldest daughter Lois (who, as -far as she could, had taken her mother's place in -the household) and Elsa had already chosen "that -good part which shall never be taken away." But the -mother-heart yearned over her two big sons, Roger -and Dick, winsome Kathleen and careless Olive.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She held Elsa's warm young hand in her nerveless -grasp, as Kathleen closed the door behind her, -and drew the girlish face, aglow with health, down -to hers, until their lips met in a long, lingering -caress; this quiet, thoughtful little daughter was a -great comfort to her mother.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am afraid poor Olive was in a temper again, -Elsa, for I do not see how the saucer could have -fallen by itself. But do not tell me, dear; I will -speak to her myself when she comes in to see me -later on."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"She doesn't get into a temper </span><em class="italics">quite</em><span> so often as -she used to, mamma," said Elsa, eager to defend -the absentee. "At least, we don't have so many -quarrels now."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I can guess why that is," whispered Mrs. Franklyn, -tenderly, as she stroked the dark hair -with her soft white fingers; "it takes two to make -a quarrel, I used to be told in my childhood, and -my Elsa tries very hard nowadays not to be one -of the two, doesn't she?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, mamma, generally, but I don't always -succeed," and the girlish head was half hidden in -the rug which covered her mother's slight form, -so that her words were only just audible. "Sometimes -I fail; I did yesterday when we were having -a game, but oh! mamma, I was so sorry -afterwards." And she raised her tear-dimmed eyes to -her mother's face.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Did you tell Jesus, darling?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh! yes, mamma. I always do, directly, and----"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He has forgiven you, then, Elsa?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, mamma, I know He has; but oh! I do -wish I could remember quicker, so as not to let -the hasty words slip out. It must grieve Him so!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"So it does, my childie, but I am sure He is -pleased, too, when He sees how hard you fight -against this enemy of yours, and He is only too -ready to help you. Keep looking to Him for -strength, Elsa, and go on persevering, and pray -for Olive, dear; her enemy is stronger far than -yours, and she does not try to conquer it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I do, mamma, I do," murmured her little daughter.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And then the tea-bell sounded through the -house, summoning all the young folk to the large, -plainly furnished dining-room where Lois Franklyn -presided over the tea-tray. "Just her mother over -again," was Dr. Franklyn's description of his eldest -daughter, but there seemed little resemblance, -nowadays, between the fragile invalid and this tall, -capable young woman of three-and-twenty. Lois -was not so handsome as Kathleen, but there was -a certain indescribable charm about her, a nameless -something which was wont to retain the admiration -that Kathleen's more youthful beauty at first sight -attracted.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>From furtive glances at Kathleen and Olive, -Elsa gathered that no serious trouble had arisen -between the sisters; indeed, Olive seemed on her -best behaviour. So Elsa breathed freely, and -concluded that the turpentine incident had blown over, -as no mention was made of it. The meal passed -merrily enough; Kathleen's racy account of her -contretemps with Mr. Bertram amusing them very -much. Paddy and Joan were just being -reprimanded by Lois for running away, when -Dr. Franklyn appeared on the scene, tired out after a -long round of visits, and his children vied with -each other in making him comfortable.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"How is your mother, Lois?" was his first query, -as she poured out a cup of tea, and begged him -to drink it at once, assuring him that the invalid -had rested a little, and felt a trifle better.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He drank it hastily, and then set the cup down, -saying: "I will have some more when I come back: -only one of you girls need wait for me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And Lois, seeing that he was physically worn -out, despatched the younger ones in various directions, -as soon as they had finished their tea, and thus -secured a quiet room for her father in which to have -his long-waited-for meal in peace.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="i-m-moved-up"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER III.</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">"I'M MOVED UP!"</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>The Rev. Herbert Drury sat in his study chair -deep in thought. His writing table was strewn -with letters answered, and unanswered, for he had -been trying to make up arrears in his correspondence -that morning. At his elbow lay his well-worn Bible, -open, for very few of his letters were written without -consulting that; but the case under consideration, -just now, needed personal help rather than clerical -advice.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>His dark hair, already thickly streaked with grey, -although he was less than forty-five, was crisply cut, and -an iron-grey moustache gave him a decidedly military -appearance. His keen, dark eyes could, on occasion, -flash a scrutinising glance, and delinquents felt he -must be reading their very thoughts, but their habitual -expression was one of kindly sympathy. Mr. Drury -had only been Vicar of St. Paul's, Osmington, for -a couple of years, but he had won the love and -respect of all his clerical brothers in the neighbourhood, -although their doctrinal opinions widely differed; -his was such a singularly attractive personality. His -church-workers felt no work was tedious or uphill, -for was not their vicar interested in every detail, -aiding personally every scheme that was set on foot -for the evangelising of the very poverty-stricken part -of the town which comprised his parish. Of money, -he had by no means a superabundance, for the living -was a poor one, and he was a younger son; but, -like St. Peter of old, he could say with truth: "Such -as I have, give I thee."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And if the vicar was beloved, his wife was no -less so: she was, in every sense, a true help-meet. -He was thinking of her now, as he considered the -sad case which had just been brought to his notice -by a note from one of the district-visitors, and he -decided to ask her advice. He strode across the -study, and opening the door, called "Nora" in a -resonant voice, which was calculated, if necessary, to -penetrate to the topmost story of the roomy -vicarage.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"One minute, dear," was the brisk reply, from the -dim recesses of a store-cupboard at the extreme end -of the hall, and in less than that time Mrs. Drury -appeared upon the scene. She was a plump little -woman, with soft brown eyes and hair which waved -a trifle, but otherwise was combed smoothly back -from her broad white brow. Her blue serge dress -was enveloped in a large holland apron, for she was -on housekeeping work intent that morning; indeed, -her hands bore traces of some floury substance -which she was emptying when the vicar called her. -Her bright face, still young enough to possess a -dimple in the chin, was flushed with the exercise -of trotting back and forth between store-cupboard -and kitchen, and to her husband she made a sweet, -homely picture as she entered his study, ready to -help him in whatever way he needed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Sit down a minute, Nora," he said, as he pushed -an arm-chair forward, "there is a very sad case -here." And the vicar unburdened his mind.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For a few minutes they chatted over the sad details -of the case in point, and as the vicar had -expected, Mrs. Drury's woman's wit saw a way of -helping, quicker than he had done.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, I will call there first thing this afternoon," -he said, as his wife returned to her interrupted -duties.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As she arranged her stores, she contrasted the sad -state of the little blind girl for whom they had just -been planning, with the happy lot of her own little -daughter. "Thank God my precious Amethyst has -her eyesight," she murmured; and then, as a -deep-toned clock struck the hour, she added: "Why, it -is striking one! She will be home directly; I must -hurry."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In a few minutes the stores were all put away, -the apron removed, and Mrs. Drury was standing in -the large bay window of the dining-room watching -for her little daughter to return from school, while -the housemaid laid the table for dinner. Very soon -she descried a trim little figure, clad in scarlet, -hastening along the pavement, swinging her lesson -books by their strap, and waving her hand gaily -in response to her mother's smile, and in a moment -more she was in Mrs. Drury's arms.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh! mumsie darling," she cried, breathlessly, -"I'm moved up!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Are you, my pet? I'm so glad." And her -mother pressed loving kisses upon the upturned -face, all quivering with the excitement of telling her -news. "Then you are in the Upper School now?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, mumsie, the Fourth Form. And Olive and -Elsa Franklyn, and Gipsy Monroe and a lot of -others have been moved up too. And oh! mumsie, -there's a new----"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Here she paused from sheer want of breath, and -Mrs. Drury interposed saying: "You shall tell me -your news presently, darling, but now you must -run and make yourself tidy for dinner, for there -is the gong."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A winsome little lassie was Amethyst Drury; at -least, so her fond parents thought. She looked -less than her fourteen years, because she was so -very slight, and the pretty fair hair, simply tied -back with a scarlet ribbon, and falling loose about -her neck, accentuated the appearance of fragility. -Her scarlet frock was almost hidden by the white -overall pinafore which her mother sensibly insisted -upon her wearing indoors, and which really added -to the charm of her appearance. Amethyst was -not specially good-looking, but her soft complexion -and sparkling grey eyes made up for any little -defects in her mouth and nose, the former being -a trifle too large, and the latter too </span><em class="italics">retroussé</em><span>, to -be termed strictly pretty.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, girlie," said her father, as grace having -been said he began to carve the joint of roast beef; -"how did you get on the first day of term?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Pretty well, I think, thank you, father, although -the lessons seem harder now than they did with -Miss Hemming; I've brought home a lot for -to-morrow," and Amethyst looked somewhat ruefully -at the lesson books lying on the table in the -window.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You must expect to pay the penalty of honour," -remarked the vicar, who had, of course, been -immediately informed of the change of class. "You -cannot hope to be so high in this form as you -were in the other, Amethyst, because many of these -girls will be older than you, I presume."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, father, some of them are, but they can't -be very sharp or they would not have been left -behind. I am going to try hard to get near the -top of this class by the time the reports come out," -said Amethyst, a ring of determination in her young -voice, as she began to attack her dinner with a -school-girl's appetite.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Her parents exchanged glances. "My girlie -mustn't be too confident of her own powers," said -Mrs. Drury gently, but firmly; "father and I want -you to do your very best to learn well, and grow -up to be a clever woman, but you must not expect -to take all the honours, Amethyst."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh! of course, mumsie, I only meant I was -going to do my lessons as well as I possibly could," -and the clear grey eyes met her mother's unfalteringly. -"There are several girls who are really clever, in my -form now, who find it quite easy to learn difficult -things. I wish I did," she added with a little sigh.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You must remember the hare and the tortoise, -girlie," said the vicar, with a smile. "If you have -more trouble to learn than they do, you may depend -upon it you will remember better. Are there any -new girls?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Only one in our form, father, and she comes -from Mydenham. Her name is Monica Beauchamp. -I don't think I like her very much," added Amethyst -meditatively.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Don't judge hastily, darling," said her mother; -"she may be a very nice girl, when you know her."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am sure you wouldn't like her, mumsie," said -her little daughter, positively, "she seems so -off-hand; and once or twice she was quite rude to -Miss Churchill. Why, she actually said----"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Hush! dear, no tale-telling. You know, girlie, -I only want to hear nice things about your school -companions. Perhaps it would be wiser not to -make a close friend of this Monica, just at present, -but always be kind and courteous. I daresay she -feels strange among you all, especially if she is -not accustomed to school. How old is she?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Fifteen; but she is such a big girl, mumsie, -quite as tall as some of the girls in the Fifth. She -went in the school door as I did this morning, and -some elderly person was with her. I thought -perhaps it was her mother or aunt, although she -didn't look a very kind one; but Monica said: 'That -will do, Barnes, you need not come any farther,' -in such a commanding tone, so I suppose she was -a servant."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I expect the young lady in question is a -granddaughter of Mrs. Beauchamp, of Carson Rise," -remarked Mr. Drury. "I have heard she has one -living with her."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, she is, father," said Amethyst, eager to -show off her knowledge. "Olive and Elsa knew her -by sight. They said she had had </span><em class="italics">four</em><span> daily -governesses, and she wouldn't obey one of them. -That's why her grandmother has sent her to -school." Amethyst's face wore an awe-struck expression; -such a terrible state of affairs seemed incredible to -her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am surprised at the Franklyns for repeating such -a thing. At any rate </span><em class="italics">we</em><span> will not discuss this -Monica's misdeeds, Amethyst, we have plenty of -faults of our own." Mrs. Drury spoke sternly, and -then she changed the subject.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Her little daughter looked very abashed, and was -quite quiet for a few minutes; her mother seldom -spoke in so severe a tone, her rule was rather one -of love. But she had a great aversion to tittle-tattling, -and endeavoured to check every indication -of it in Amethyst's school-girl talk.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The cheerful midday meal concluded, the vicar -prepared for an afternoon's parochial visiting. -Mrs. Drury got out her work-basket in order to finish -a garment she was making for a poor old woman, -who used to attend her mothers' meeting. Amethyst -amused herself with alternately talking to the canary, -whose cage hung in one of the sunny windows, -and playing with a beautiful black and white cat, -who stretched himself lazily on the hearthrug, and -blinked his eyes and purred in appreciation of his -little mistress's fondling.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Shall I get out my lessons now, mumsie; they -will take me a good long time to-day?" she asked, -when she was tired of amusing herself.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, dear, I think you shall leave them until -after tea," said Mrs. Drury, as she sewed on the -last button, and folded up her work. "I am going -to take this to old Mrs. Robbins, and you may go -with me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, lovely!" cried Amethyst excitedly, as she -jumped up with alacrity. "I like going to see your -dear little old women, mumsie. I don't think I know -Mrs. Robbins."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I hardly think you do, dear. But come, let us -get ready, and go at once."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Although St. Paul's Vicarage was situated in a -by no means grand locality, a very few minutes -brisk walking brought Mrs. Drury and Amethyst -into widely different surroundings. Long rows of -tenement houses looking on to the ugly brick -buildings which comprised the iron foundry where most -of the husbands and sons earned their daily bread, -were traversed before they paused at an almost -paintless door, bearing the number 75, but guiltless -of a knocker.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Applying the handle of her umbrella briskly, -Mrs. Drury waited for some one to admit her. But -instead of the door being opened, a feeble voice was -heard saying: "Please come in." And bidding Amethyst -follow her, she turned the rickety handle and -entered the squalid-looking house. For a moment -it was so dark after the bright sunlight outside, -that she could scarcely see her way, but she soon -descried another door on her left, and pushing that -open, a certain amount of light illumined the dark -passage.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Come in, ma'am, do 'ee come in," cried a quavering -old voice from the interior of the room, and -Mrs. Drury led Amethyst, who was somewhat shy of -strangers, into the tidy but comfortless apartment, -and shut the door.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, Mrs. Robbins, how are you to-day?" she -enquired sympathetically, as she gently shook -the poor old hand, badly crippled with rheumatism.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Only very middlin', ma'am, very middlin'," said -the poor old soul, as she begged her visitors to be -seated. Mrs. Drury drew the only available chair -up to the side of the poor miserable bed, and -Amethyst found a little wooden footstool, upon which -she perched herself as best she could. The old -woman's dim eyes lit up as she saw the bright face -and hair of her little visitor.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"La, bless me, ma'am, she's just for all the world -like a fairy," she said, and she struggled to raise her -poor old body the better to feast her eyes on the -pretty picture, but a low moan of pain escaped her -lips. "'Tis these screwmatics," she explained, as -Mrs. Drury bent over her tenderly, "my back and legs -is awful to-day."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Have you had any medicine lately, and who -looks after you, Mrs. Robbins?" said the lady, -sympathetically.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My darter-in-law looks in most days, and her -little gal runs of arrants for me; they live at No. 68, -just below. No, ma'am, I haven't had any medicine -for a good bit now, it don't seem much use like. -But there, ma'am, the Almighty is wonderful good -to me. I have never been without a bite or a sup -yet, and there's a many can't say as much as that, -poor things of 'em."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Perhaps they don't look to Him for succour as -you do," was Mrs. Drury's gentle reply, as she -stroked the poor knotted fingers.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ah, ma'am, that's true, more's the pity of it. -I mind when I was young, like little missy there, -my father used to say to me: 'Now, Jemima, my -gal, never you do nothing as'll make you shamed -for God Almighty to see, and you may depend -upon it, He'll look to it that you never -want.' Sometimes, when I was young and foolish, I used -ter think as there was a many things I wanted, -and never got, but now I'm growing old, and the -Golden City is very near, I seem quite content-like."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Shall I just read a few words to you?" said -Mrs. Drury, as she opened her little pocket Bible at the -book of the Revelation.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Aye, please do, ma'am," and the dear old soul -lay placidly listening to the beautiful description -given by St. John of the New Jerusalem, where there -shall be no more pain, hunger, or tears, for those who -have been washed in the blood of the Lamb.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Beautiful, beautiful words," murmured old -Mrs. Robbins, as she drank in the comforting promises; -"we'll not remember the trials and troubles of this -life when we are up yonder."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Now, Amethyst, dear, before we go, just sing -a nice hymn for Mrs. Robbins," said Mrs. Drury, -to her little daughter, who had been a silent spectator -so far.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What might little missy's name be, ma'am?" -enquired the old woman, with some curiosity.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Amethyst," replied Mrs. Drury, with a smile. -"An unusual one, isn't it? but her father and I chose -it for a special reason."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"'Tis one of the precious stones in the Bible, -surely," said Mrs. Robbins; "one of all they -long-named things as is going to be in the walls of the -golden city."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, it is a Bible name, and has a special meaning, -signifying an abhorrence of the drink which is such -a curse to our land. We want our little daughter -to grow up to be a true Amethyst. Now, dearie, -sing your hymn."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Shall it be 'There is a city bright,' mumsie? -Would Mrs. Robbins like that?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, dear, I am sure she would. Come and -stand close by me, and sing very clearly, girlie," -and Mrs. Drury took one of the white-gloved hands -in her own, and held it lovingly while her little -daughter's clear, childish treble filled the bare -room.</span></p> -<blockquote> -<div> -<div class="line-block outermost"> -<div class="line"><span>"There is a city bright</span></div> -<div class="line"><span>Closed are its gates to sin,</span></div> -<div class="line"><span>Naught that defileth,</span></div> -<div class="line"><span>Naught that defileth,</span></div> -<div class="line"><span>Can ever enter in.</span></div> -</div> -<div class="line-block outermost"> -<div class="line"><span>"Saviour, I come to Thee!</span></div> -<div class="line"><span>Oh, Lamb of God, I pray,--</span></div> -<div class="line"><span>Cleanse me and save me,</span></div> -<div class="line"><span>Cleanse me and save me,</span></div> -<div class="line"><span>Wash all my sins away.</span></div> -</div> -<div class="line-block outermost"> -<div class="line"><span>"Lord, make me, from this hour,</span></div> -<div class="line"><span>Thy loving child to be,</span></div> -<div class="line"><span>Kept by Thy power,</span></div> -<div class="line"><span>Kept by Thy power,</span></div> -<div class="line"><span>From all that grieveth Thee.</span></div> -</div> -<div class="line-block outermost"> -<div class="line"><span>"Till in the snowy dress</span></div> -<div class="line"><span>Of Thy redeemed I stand;</span></div> -<div class="line"><span>Faultless and stainless,</span></div> -<div class="line"><span>Faultless and stainless,</span></div> -<div class="line"><span>Safe in that happy land."</span></div> -<div class="line"> </div> -</div> -</div> -</blockquote> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"Thank you, my dearie, thank you," said the old -woman gratefully, as the last word died away. -"And thank you kindly, ma'am, for coming to cheer -an old body up."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I will come again when I can, Mrs. Robbins; -meanwhile here is a comfortable loose gown for you -to use, either when you sit up again, or in bed, just -as you like, and a trifle to buy a few little extras -with."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The poor old cripple's dim eyes filled with tears -as she saw the nice grey woollen wrapper, and felt -the half-crown pressed into her wrinkled palm.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"God bless you, dear lady! God Almighty bless -and reward you!" was all she could say.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And, quite understanding, Mrs. Drury gently bade -Amethyst open the door, and in a moment more -their footsteps resounded along the uneven pavement.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="i-wish-you-d-be-friends-with-me"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER IV.</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">"I WISH YOU'D BE FRIENDS WITH ME."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Mrs. Drury and Amethyst walked along -silently for a few minutes, each apparently -busy with her own thoughts. The former was -thinking how best she could aid the poor old -cripple she had just left, while her little daughter -was pondering over the history of her name. They -had reached a more open thoroughfare when -Amethyst broke the silence.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Amethyst is </span><em class="italics">rather</em><span> a funny name for a girl, don't -you think, mumsie?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Suddenly recalled from a mental calculation in -which blankets and beef-tea played a prominent -part, Mrs. Drury smiled down at her little daughter. -"Do you think so, girlie?" was all she said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, yes, I do," confessed Amethyst, slowly. -"Although the girls at the High School have -nicknamed me 'Thistle,' they tease me about my proper -name sometimes, and say I might as well have -been called Sapphire or Topaz, or one of those -long names which begin with a 'C.' I can't -pronounce them properly, but you know the ones -I mean, mumsie."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, dear, I know. You mean chrysolite and -chalcedony and chrysoprasus," said her mother, -with a smile; "but they are very different. Your -father and I chose your name because of its meaning, -for a special reason, as we have often told you, -Amethyst. When we used to live in the East-end -of London, where you were born, there was so much -sin and sorrow all round us everywhere, caused by -strong drink, that we resolved to call you Amethyst, -so that you might always be a reminder to us of -our promise not to have anything to do with it. -And there was another reason, girlie," Mrs. Drury -dropped her voice, and spoke softly. "Your father -and I have always hoped and prayed, from your -very babyhood, that when you were grown up you -might become a worker in the noble army of men -and women who are fighting, in God's strength, -against this dreadful enemy of our beloved England."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"How could I, mother?" Amethyst asked wonderingly; -she had never been told so much as this -before.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There are many ways, dear," replied her mother, -"in which people can influence those around them -in the cause of total abstinence. Some are wanted -who can write books and articles; others who can -speak in favour of it. But it is early days for -us to plan your future, girlie; when you have left -school far behind and are quite grown up, it will -be easier to see how you can best live up to your -name."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I think I should like to be a speaker," said -Amethyst meditatively.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You are one now, I think, girlie," said Mrs. Drury, -with a little laugh. "You know father says -you are a regular chatterbox. Now, let us go into -Wilson's and get some of those nice scones for tea, -and then we must hurry home."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They had just emerged from the confectioner's, -and were crossing the road, when Amethyst espied -the two Franklyn girls coming towards them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There are Olive and Elsa," she said, delightedly; -and then she added, persuasively, "Oh! mumsie, -do you think they might come to tea with us -to-day?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Not to-day, darling, I think, because you have -all your lessons to do, and there is scarcely time -for them to go home and get permission, now. -But they might come on Saturday," she added, -as Amethyst looked very doleful. "Let us speak -to them."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"How do you do, dears?" was Mrs. Drury's -bright greeting, as she shook hands with the twins. -"How is your mother to-day?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Father thinks she is a little better, thank you, -Mrs. Drury." It was Elsa who spoke; Olive always -deputed her sister to give the latest bulletins of -her mother's health.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am glad to hear that," said Mrs. Drury -warmly; "will you give her my love, and tell -her I hope to come and see her very soon? -Meanwhile, Amethyst and I are wondering whether -she would allow you both to come to tea next -Saturday."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh! thank you very much, Mrs. Drury, we -shall be delighted to come," said Olive, a ring of -pleasure in her tones; they always enjoyed -themselves at St. Paul's Vicarage.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I think we had better just ask first," ventured -Elsa, "although I feel sure mother will be very -pleased."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Quite right, dear," said Mrs. Drury, looking -approvingly at Elsa, so that she did not see Olive -shrug her shoulders disdainfully. "Come early in -the afternoon, if you may, so that you and Amethyst -can have some fun together in the garden. I hear -you have all been moved up," she added, as they -began to separate.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, an awful nuisance, I call it," said Olive; -"we shall have no end of home-work to do now. -That algebra we did this morning is stupid stuff, -isn't it, Thistle? All silly little letters and numbers -that don't seem to mean anything. I couldn't -make head or tail of it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I rather liked it," said Amethyst.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"So did I," admitted Elsa.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, you all ought to grow up very clever -women," said Mrs. Drury, with a smile. "I hope -you will all do something great some day."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No fear of that for me," was Olive's nonchalant -reply, as Amethyst and her mother hurried on.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I hope mother will let us go on Saturday," -said Elsa, as the twins walked in the direction of -home.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why, of course she will, you stupid; how often -does she refuse us?" cried her sister, snappishly. -She had an uncomfortable sense of having lowered -herself somehow in Mrs. Drury's estimation, and -was not best pleased with Elsa for appearing to -correct her before that lady.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, she is always so pleased for us to go to -the vicarage," said Elsa, wisely refraining from -adding fuel to the fire by saying what she might -have said; namely, that she had seen Mrs. Drury's -look of astonishment when Olive calmly accepted -the invitation without any reference to their mother. -"We must be quick, now, Olive, or we shall be late -for tea; it is just upon five by the post-office clock."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The three girls met again next morning in the -Fourth Form cloakroom, where the pupils took -off their outdoor garments, and changed their shoes. -They had the narrow, partitioned-off room, with its -rows of clothes-hooks and pigeon-holes for boots, to -themselves, for a moment. But as they were rather -late, Elsa, whose division was nearest to Amethyst's, -could only just whisper, "We may come on Saturday," -before the bell, which summoned them all to their -places in the large hall, warned them to lose no time.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Scrambling into their slippers, and hanging hats -and coats on their respective pegs, the trio hastened -into the hall, and were each in their own particular -place by the time the bell ceased clanging: much to -Elsa's and Amethyst's delight, as they had no wish -to begin so early in the term with a late mark. -Olive was one of the happy-go-lucky sort who did -not mind a few marks one way or the other.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Indeed, she ran the risk of losing a conduct mark -by nudging Elsa, and whispering: "Monica Beauchamp -is----" just as Miss Buckingham, the head-mistress, -who conducted prayers from a raised platform at one -end of the hall, announced the number of the hymn.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But Elsa only smiled, and resolutely turned her -head away from Olive, so that the sentence remained -unfinished.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Prayers over, and the various notices relative to -the new term having been given out, the classes filed -into their classrooms, which all opened off the -spacious hall, with the exception of the First and -Sixth Forms, whose rooms were on the first floor, -where were also the studio, music-rooms and others -used for various purposes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There was a friendly rivalry among the girls with -respect to the appearance of their own particular -classrooms, and they had inaugurated a fund among -themselves for decorative purposes, by means of -which plants and pictures, etc., were purchased for -the adornment of the rooms.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Fourth Form, by reason of its position, had -the best view of all the classrooms, for it overlooked -the prettily laid out garden of Miss Buckingham's -private house, so that the girls of that form always -tried to outdo the others in their decoration of the -room itself. And indeed, as the twenty or more girls -filed into it that bright May morning, and took their -places, each at her own desk, it looked a charming -room. Half a dozen pretty engravings, well-framed, -and a couple of coloured maps, on rollers, adorned -the walls which were painted a pale green; on the -dark oak mantelpiece, which matched the door and -wainscoting, stood some "Liberty" vases, which the -"Decoration Committee" undertook to keep supplied -with flowers. Miss Churchill (the Fourth Form -governess) had a large desk on a raised platform, -from which she could command a good view of all -her pupils at once; behind her hung the baize-covered -notice board, and at her right hand stood the -black-board on its easel. The windows, of which -there were three, were, much to the girls' disgust, -guiltless of curtains, as such commodities as carpets -and window-hangings were not allowed in the classrooms, -a large Oriental rug before the tiled hearth -being the only covering on the inlaid floor. But the -upper parts of the casement windows were filled in -with coloured glass, and on each of the deep window -ledges stood a palm, or some hardy fern, in artistic -pots, so that the appearance was all that could be -desired.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There is just one more thing to be mentioned, -and that is, that each class had its own motto, -framed, and hung over the mantelpiece, where -it could not fail to be seen; that of the Fourth Form -being </span><em class="italics">Suaviter in modo, fortiter in re</em><span> (Gentle in -manner, resolute in deed).</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The mottoes had been Miss Buckingham's gift some -few months before, when the girls, for the time -being, in each class had chosen their own, by vote, -and the idea was still sufficiently fresh to cause a -good deal of interest.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Now, girls," said Miss Churchill brightly, as she -seated herself at her desk, "let us get to work at -once. We did really nothing yesterday, what with -giving out stationery, and drawing up the timetable, -etc.; so this morning we must begin in earnest. -Divinity is our first lesson."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She was a plain little person, dressed in a blue -serge skirt, and blouse of blue and white striped -flannel. Her age might have been anything under -forty, but as a matter of fact, Mary Churchill had -not yet passed her twenty-eighth birthday. Her -soft brown hair, guiltless of fringe or wave, was -simply arranged, and her broad forehead was -suggestive of talent, while her lips spoke of a -resolute will. But beneath the commonplace exterior, -there beat a warm loving heart, which took a real -vital interest in the character of each of her pupils; -and it was because of her love for them that, for -the most part, the girls of the Fourth Form were -devoted to their teacher.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There was an opening of desks, a rustling of -Bibles and notebooks, and then the work of the -morning began. The period in Scripture that had -been chosen for that term's study was the book -of Exodus, and the girls grew quite interested as -Miss Churchill graphically described the position -of the Israelites in bondage.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Elsa and Amethyst, who shared a double desk -between them, listened intently, for they thoroughly -enjoyed the Divinity lesson always; but Olive paid -scant attention. It was far too dry, she thought, -to trouble about listening properly, and so her -thoughts wandered, first to one thing, and then to -another, until she had quite lost the thread of -the lesson, and gave up trying to follow it. So -she looked about her, to see what the others were -thinking, and found Monica Beauchamp's eyes were -fixed on her. She was too far away from her to -whisper, as she would undoubtedly have done if -she could, so she contented herself with smiling -and making various grimaces, to show her feelings, -when Miss Churchill was engaged with the blackboard.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Monica, who had felt terribly "out of it" the -day before, was only too ready to make advances -towards this girl who seemed to have plenty of fun -in her, and was not a goody-goody like her sister; -so she returned the gesticulations with interest.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For a few minutes Miss Churchill noticed nothing -wrong, but presently as she looked round from -the blackboard she heard a decided titter, and -turning in the direction from which the sound -came, she saw that one of the girls, Hetty Warner, -a quiet, inoffensive child, was endeavouring to conceal -her merriment by means of her handkerchief.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What are you laughing at, Hetty?" she said, -somewhat sternly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nothing, Miss Churchill," muttered the girl, as -best she could.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There must have been some reason, and I insist -upon knowing it," and Miss Churchill came a few -steps nearer to the culprit's desk. A hasty -movement between two of the girls did not escape her, -and quick as thought she intercepted a small piece -of paper which Olive Franklyn was frantically trying -to put out of sight.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The girls held their breath as their teacher opened -and smoothed out the paper, which Olive had screwed -up into a ball rather than hand it up as it was. -Those who had been in the form before remembered -a similar occasion when Miss Churchill had -confiscated a little scribbled note which was being -passed along, and the punishment that had been -inflicted for such an underhand trick. But that was -as nothing to the present scene, for Miss Churchill -held aloft, so that all could see it, the paper on -which was an unmistakable caricature of herself, -in the attitude she assumed when delivering a -lesson.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What a shame!" cried several of the girls -simultaneously, but she stopped them with a motion -of her hand.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Who drew this?" she enquired, in a well-controlled -voice; but her eyes flashed, and it was evident -that she was very, very angry.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For a moment no one answered, and she put -the question again, while the girls waited -breathlessly; those who were innocent were eager to -know who the culprit was. Only two of them -looked at all guilty, and those were the Franklyns. -Miss Churchill, looking round at all the faces before -her, noticed the frightened look of one, and the -off-hand, nonchalant air of the other. As yet she -scarcely knew them apart, so she enquired of the -one nearest to her, who happened to be Elsa: -"Did you draw this ... thing?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A scarcely audible "No" came from Elsa's trembling -lips, and Miss Churchill was about to tell her -to speak louder, when Olive stood up, and said, in -a bold, defiant tone: "Elsa knows nothing about it, -I did it," and then she sat down again calmly, to -await her punishment.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You will apologise to me for your rudeness -before you go home, and you will copy out a -hundred lines of French translation and bring it -to me, to-morrow, without a fault, or else I shall -show this drawing to Miss Buckingham," was all the -teacher said, in very quiet tones; but for once Olive -was subdued, and behaved tolerably well for the -rest of the morning.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She was greeted with various remarks during the -ten minutes' recreation the girls had in the -playground. Some of them looked askance at her, and -she felt she had made a bad beginning in the -new form. But two or three of the troublesome, -fun-loving ones complimented her upon the -cleverness of her drawing.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You hither expression to a T!" said Lily Howell, -a somewhat vulgar-looking girl, whose slangy -expression jarred upon her superiors, but whose -well-filled purse made her a desirable acquaintance.</span></p> -<div class="align-center auto-scaled figure margin" style="width: 60%" id="figure-46"> -<span id="you-hit-her-expression-to-a-t"></span><img class="align-center block" style="display: block; width: 100%" alt=""'YOU HIT HER EXPRESSION TO A T!'"" src="images/img-061.jpg" /> -<div class="caption centerleft figure-caption margin"> -<span class="italics">"'YOU HIT HER EXPRESSION TO A T!'"</span></div> -</div> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It wasn't bad," admitted Olive, "but I could -have done it a great deal better if I had had time."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'm afraid you've done for yourself," said Gipsy -Monroe, a dark-eyed girl, with short, curly black -hair, as she and Amethyst Drury sauntered by -arm in arm.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But, beyond a shrug of her shoulders, Olive took -no notice, for all her interest was centred in Monica, -who was just coming towards her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I say, wasn't it a lark?" was Monica's greeting, -as she came near; "but it's hard lines that you -should have all the punishment, because I was nearly -as bad."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh! I don't care a fig about the copying," said -Olive carelessly. "It goes against the grain rather -to beg her pardon, but, of course, I shall have to, -or there'll be no end of a row, and I only did it -for fun."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, you </span><em class="italics">are</em><span> a jolly girl!" was Monica's admiring -reply. "I wish you'd be friends with me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"So I will," agreed Olive, with alacrity. "I -haven't got a real chum, and I should think you -and I would get on A1."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I've never had a girl-friend in all my life," said -Monica; "to tell the truth I always thought them -rather dull and stupid. I am awfully keen on dogs; -do you like them?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And Olive assenting, a lively conversation ensued, -which was abruptly terminated by the sound of the -bell recalling them to lessons.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Olive's equanimity appeared to be quite restored -as she entered the school door with her new-made -friend, but a pitiful little look from Elsa, -and a whispered, "How </span><em class="italics">could</em><span> you, Ollie?" made -her feel most uncomfortable, and she seized an -early opportunity of going up to Miss Churchill -and expressing the contrition that, at the moment, -she really felt, for Olive Franklyn was a -good-hearted girl, although she was full of fun, and -she began to realise that perhaps Miss Churchill -had "feelings" the same as herself, and she knew -she wouldn't have liked such a trick played upon her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Something in the honest brown eyes which looked -unflinchingly into her own touched Miss Churchill, -who had somewhat recovered from the indignation -which Olive's treatment of her had roused, and -she spoke gently to the pupil who would doubtless -prove a "handful" as time went on.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Very well, dear, I quite forgive you; let us say -no more about it. I don't think you will do such -a thing again. You have evidently some talent -for sketching quickly and boldly; see that you do -not misuse your gift."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And Olive, glad to be at peace with her teacher -again, made a mental vow that she would be an -exemplary scholar from that day forward. But alas! -Olive Franklyn's promises were, like the proverbial -pie-crust, made to be broken!</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="i-want-you-a-minute"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER V.</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">"I WANT YOU A MINUTE."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Monica Beauchamp returned home from -her second day at school in high spirits. -At last, she believed, she had found a friend, a -girl of about her own age, who apparently had -tastes somewhat similar to her own, to whom she -could talk without restraint, and to whom she could -confide all the hundred and one grievances of her -everyday life at her grandmother's.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She felt so light-hearted about it that she even -condescended to make an affable remark now and -again, during the walk home, to the long-suffering -Barnes, whom Mrs. Beauchamp insisted should -accompany Miss Monica both to and from school, -and who had had a sorry time so far. For Monica -was so indignant at the idea of requiring a -nurse-maid (as one or two of the girls had not hesitated -to call the person whom they saw with Monica) -that she had vented her spite on Barnes by -marching sullenly along without saying a single word.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Barnes, who was accustomed to all sorts of -treatment from "that Miss Monica," as she was wont -to call her, confided to the other maids over their -dinner that school was working wonders in their -young lady already, and she wished she'd gone a -good bit before.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Not as I enjoys the constitootional twice a -day," she added, "for I can't abear it, and it takes -a sight of time. But still, if the missis will have -it so----"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'm sure I'd just as lief go out a-walking, as -tidy up all the rubbidge in her bedroom," sniffed -Mary Ann, the under-housemaid, who privately -thought herself far more suited to go than Barnes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You never need be expecting to, then," replied -the maid, with conviction. "You're far too giddy."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Dear, dear," was the mocking answer, "old -maids isn't always the ones preferred!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There, that'll do, Mary Ann!" interposed cook -good-temperedly; "don't be rude to Miss -Barnes." And she adroitly changed the subject.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Meanwhile, Monica was having a </span><em class="italics">tête-à-tête</em><span> meal -with her grandmother in the dining-room upstairs. -The old lady had been out the previous afternoon -and evening, and so had not had an opportunity -of questioning Monica about her first experiences -of school life. She proceeded to do so when the -parlourmaid left them alone together.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Monica, still happy in the thought of her -new-made friend, looked bright and lovable as she sat -opposite her grandmother at the lavishly appointed -luncheon table; even Mrs. Beauchamp, austere and -undemonstrative as she was, felt for the moment -a thrill of satisfaction in possessing so handsome -a grandchild. But neither her words nor tones -gave any indication of such a state of feeling.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Now give me some account of your school-work, -Monica," she said stiffly, as she toyed with a minute -helping of orange jelly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh! I think I shall like it no end," was the -girl's off-hand reply, as well as she could between -huge mouthfuls of rhubarb tart, which she was -discussing with her healthy school-girl's appetite. -"It was a bit strange at first, but I chummed -up to one of the girls to-day, so I feel quite at -home."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Really, Monica," expostulated her grandmother, -"you must not use such expressions; you quite shock -me. I do hope they will not allow you to speak -improperly at this school." And she sighed -voluminously.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That isn't slang, really, grandmother; everybody -says chum nowadays," was Monica's conciliatory -reply. "At least, all young people do."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I do hope you won't grow unladylike, I'm sure. -It is doubtful if it was a wise step to send you to -such a large school, I am afraid."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Don't fidget, grandmother," said her grandchild -soothingly. "I daresay I shall turn out all right -in the end." And she added, mentally: "At any -rate, dad, I won't disappoint </span><em class="italics">you</em><span> if I can help it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, what about this girl you've made friends -with?" continued the old lady helplessly; "who is she?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"One of Dr. Franklyn's daughters," began Monica, -but Mrs. Beauchamp interrupted her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh! I'm glad you had the sense to choose a -professional man's child. Although I don't know -much of Dr. Franklyn, I think he is a very -respectable medical man. But was there no girl in your -own station, Monica, who would have been more -suited as a companion for you?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'm sure I didn't give a thought to what her -father was," said Monica frankly. "I shouldn't have -cared much if he had been a chimney sweep. I've -taken a great fancy to Olive Franklyn, and she -seemed friendly, so we have agreed to be chums."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, I hope you have not been rash. I must -make enquiries about these Franklyns before I can -allow you to become further acquainted."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Monica muttered something under her breath, -which sounded suspiciously like "What rubbish!" -but the look on her grandmother's stern face warned -her to be careful, if she would keep her friend.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I thought Mr. Bertram said the Osmington -clergy had daughters at the High School," remarked -Mrs. Beauchamp after a pause; "would not one of -them have done?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I think there's only Amethyst Drury in our -form," was the scornful reply, "and I'm sure she's -a little prig. She's great friends with Olive's twin -sister Elsa, who is just such another as herself, I -should think."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Her grandmother inferred from that remark that -Monica had evidently chosen a kindred spirit, and -she dreaded what might be in store, in the way -of added unruliness. But she refrained from saying -what was in her mind, and went on to enquire about -lessons, and so forth.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Monica gave a very good description of all she had -done, with the exception of the caricature episode, -and having somewhat ingratiated herself with her -grandmother, by repeating a few words of praise -that had been bestowed upon her German exercise, -she thought it a good opportunity to ask a favour.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh! grandmamma," she said coaxingly, "don't -you think I might go without Barnes? It seems so -silly for a great girl like me to be obliged to have -a maid to walk with me. The girls say nasty -things about it, too," she added ruefully.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I have been considering the matter, Monica," -said Mrs. Beauchamp, as she rose from the table, -"but I have not decided yet what I shall do."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Can't I go by myself, grandmother? I'm sure -you might trust me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am not so sure, Monica," was the cold rejoinder. -"I do not approve of young ladies tearing here, there, -and everywhere by themselves, though it may be -all very well for girls of the middle classes. I shall -probably get a small governess cart, and Richards -will drive you in and out."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A drive with the sedate old coachman who had -been years in Mrs. Beauchamp's service, and who -occasionally "spoke his mind to Miss Monica," was -scarcely any improvement on walking with Barnes. -But, at any rate, there would be no reason for the -girls to ridicule her then. So she made no demur.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Now, Monica, go to the schoolroom and do some -of your lessons, and be ready at half-past-three to -accompany me to The Knoll. Put on your cream serge -frock, and make yourself as neat-looking as you -possibly can, for Mrs. St. Quintin is very particular."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Monica was not over-pleased at the prospect of a -longish drive, and drawing-room tea to follow, but -even that was preferable to remaining at home alone. -So she prepared to do as she was told, and behaved -in so exemplary a manner during the rest of the -day that Mrs. Beauchamp began to have great hopes -from the new educational arrangements.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>By the end of the week the governess cart was -procured, and Monica was freed from Barnes's espionage. -The girls were quick to see the fresh arrangement, -and Lily Howell, who had been the one to -talk about the nursemaid, was furiously jealous of -the smart little turn-out. Her father, a retired -soap-manufacturer, was extremely wealthy, and his only -and much spoiled child was most extravagantly -dressed; indeed, she had everything for which she -expressed a wish. But for some unaccountable reason -he would not go in for "hoss-flesh," as he called it, -preferring to hire a landau from the livery stables -when Mrs. Howell wished to drive; so that Lily's -pet ambition, which was to drive herself, was not -realised. A bicycle she might, and did, have, but -she had tired of that, because it was such a "fag"; -so that she was dreadfully annoyed when the new -girl, with the uppish ways, passed her on her way -to the High School, seated in just such a trap as -her soul coveted. She made up her mind to vent -her spite somehow upon Monica, who took absolutely -no notice of her at all, while she was as "thick as -thieves" with that Franklyn girl, whose father was -as poor as a church mouse.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Now Lily was a sly, deceitful sort of girl, and was -by no means a favourite with the others; but she -was in the habit of spending money freely, simply -because she wanted to show off; so that some of the -more greedy girls made a sort of queen of her, and -flattered her tremendously on account of the -chocolate, and other good things, which she showered upon -them. She was so lazy and indolent that she would -have been continually getting into trouble with the -governesses, had it not been for her little coterie, who -managed, by one trick and another, to shield her -from exposure; and somehow she managed to pass muster.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>On the morning in question she nursed her -jealousy of Monica until recreation time came round, -and then she found a splendid opportunity, as she -thought, of "paying her out."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The usual visit to the housekeeper's room, where -the girls could buy various biscuits, and get milk, -if they liked, for lunch, having been paid, some of -the Fourth Form girls hurried off to secure one of -the two asphalted tennis courts, Monica and Olive -being among the number. But when they arrived -on the scene, it was only to find that the Fifth Form -had appropriated them both, and were practising -with a view to a tournament which was to take -place between the girls of the Osmington and another -High School later on.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, I say! it's too bad of you girls to take both -courts," cried Olive breathlessly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"First come, first served, my dear," replied one of -the elder girls condescendingly, as she returned a -serve gaily, but so carelessly, that the ball was netted, -and her partner groaned, as the umpire scored -"forty--love."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, let's have a game of fives, Monica," -suggested Olive, as they left the tennis players. But, -alas! the fives courts were all filled by then, so -there was no amusement left but to saunter about the -large playground arm-in-arm, as several of the others -were doing, some, like themselves, in couples, and -some in school-girl fashion, in strings of four, or even -five.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What do you do on Saturdays, Olive?" said -Monica, as they left the tennis players behind them, -and strolled round the quieter part of the playground, -that nearest to Miss Buckingham's house.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh! all sorts of things. In the summer we have -picnics in Disbrowe woods, and sometimes on the -river, when my brothers are home."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You never told me you had any brothers but -Pat," said Monica, in surprise. "Are they older -than you?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Haven't I? Why, yes--Roger, that's the one at -St. Adrian's Hospital, is twenty-two, and Dick is -seventeen. He's with an uncle of ours who is an -auctioneer. They'll both be home in August, and -we can have some lovely picnics then, if -Mrs. Beauchamp will let you come."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I expect I shall have to go to the seaside with -her again, like we did last year," was Monica's -gloomy reply. "She always goes to Sandyshore for -a whole month, because it's quiet and restful, she says. -It's a hateful little place, </span><em class="italics">I</em><span> think--no niggers, or band, -or anything to amuse you all day long. I do wish -we needn't go there this year."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, dear," sighed Olive lugubriously, "I wish -I had half a chance of a month by the dear, -darling sea! We are so dreadfully poor that -father can never afford a holiday at the seaside -for us. At least, we haven't been for years, though -we did have a fortnight once, when Elsa and I -were about eight or nine, but it is so long ago I -can hardly remember it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Wouldn't it be awfully jolly if grandmother -would let you come with us?" said Monica -eagerly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"If pigs might fly!" was her friend's merry -response, as the bell clanging out warned them that -"rec." was over.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Olive Franklyn, I want you a minute."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The girl turned round at the sound of her name, -and saw Lily Howell beckoning to her mysteriously -from a little distance.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Whatever does she want? I suppose I must -go and see," said Olive, as she slipped her arm out -of her companion's. "I'll catch you up in half a -minute, Monica."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"All right; I'm glad she doesn't want me. I can't -bear that girl."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nor I."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Monica went leisurely round the corner towards -the entrance the girls generally used; several of -them, hurrying past, advised her not to be late.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'm just coming," she said, and turned back -to look for Olive. There was no one in sight now, -except a girl called Maggie Masters, who came flying -round the corner in great haste.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Olive Franklyn told me, if I saw you, to ask -you to go back to the tennis courts a minute. It -is something particular."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>If Monica had been a little more up to school-girls' -tricks she would have scented something -wrong in the way the girl delivered her message, -and then rushed into school. As it was, she -hastened back to the tennis courts, only to find -the place absolutely deserted, and no trace of Olive -anywhere! Feeling sure there was some mischief -afloat, Monica retraced her steps hurriedly, -determined to find out the originator of the trick. But -alas! when she reached the school door it was bolted -from within, and rattle at the handle as she would, -no one appeared to open it. Growing more angry -every minute, she rushed round the playground -to the other entrance, only to find that fastened -likewise!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Scarcely knowing what to do, Monica was just -about to pull the door-bell, when she remembered -that the Fourth Form windows were accessible to -the playground. She hurried across the small plot -of grass, nicknamed "The Square," and by dint -of standing on tiptoe could just see into the -classroom.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>All the girls had taken their places, with the -exception of Olive, who was vainly endeavouring -to make Fräulein Wespe understand that Monica -Beauchamp must have got shut out. But Fräulein, -who was a very fresh importation from Germany, -either could not, or would not understand, so she -merely motioned to Olive to take her place, while -she ejaculated "Ach, so!" and smiled benignantly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A hurried glance round the room revealed to -Monica that she had been the victim of a practical -joke, for Lily Howell and Maggie Masters, who -were seated at a desk just under the open window, -were engaged in a whispered conversation about -her non-appearance while Fräulein's attention was -being taken up with Olive.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We've put a spoke in her ladyship's wheel, -now," whispered Lily, an ugly sneer upon her thin lips.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nasty, uppish thing to look down on you, dear!" -purred Maggie, who had vivid remembrances of -the delicious milk-chocolate she had just been -enjoying at Lily's expense.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'll be even with them yet," remarked Monica -mentally, as she moved to the next window, from -which the two conspirators would be unable to see -her. Here she rapped loudly on the pane, to attract -Fräulein's attention. That lady was, of course, -astonished beyond anything to see one of the -pupils still out in the playground, and she began -to question volubly in German as to the cause of -such behaviour, leaving her desk, as she did so, -and walking over to the window.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Now it so happened that Monica was not a bad -German scholar, for her age, one of her long-suffering -governesses having insisted upon German conversations, -and Monica had picked up a very fair smattering -of the language during her six months' reign. -Therefore she made it sufficiently intelligible to -Fräulein that she had been the victim of a practical -joke for that worthy to express pity for the girl -who would evidently be one of her best pupils, -and, in broken English, she bade some one go and -unfasten the passage door.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Olive, of course, was the first to run and do her -bidding, and in the second or two they were together -Monica learnt that Olive had been decoyed into -entering the school by the other door, under some -pretext or other, Lily Howell having assured her -that she had seen Monica go in the usual way a -minute before. Neither of the girls could think of -any reason for the trick, except that Olive thought -it was "just like Lily Howell."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"She'll hear more about it one of these days," -said Monica sententiously, as she entered the -classroom, with her haughtiest air, and took her place, -without deigning even to glance at the conspirators, -who were burning with curiosity to know just how -much Fräulein had been told, and whether any -exposure would follow. But as no further notice -was taken of the affair, probably on account of -Fräulein Wespe's ignorance of rules, Lily Howell -began to feel that her little manoeuvre to get the -new girl into disgrace had fallen rather flat!</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="he-weren-t-called-seize-er-for-nothin"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER VI.</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">"HE WEREN'T CALLED 'SEIZE-'ER' FOR NOTHIN'!"</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>The following day was Saturday, and therefore -a whole holiday. Monica, who had grown -quite accustomed to the new life among companions -of her own age, felt quite dismal when she rose in -the morning, and remembered there were two long, -long days to be got through before she could expect -to see any of them again. She fully intended -asking her grandmother if Olive might come to -Carson Rise (as Mrs. Beauchamp's residence was -called) to tea, at least, if not to spend the greater -part of the day. But Olive had told her of the -previous arrangement that she and Elsa should go -to the vicarage (an invitation, by the way, which -she now wished she had not been so eager to -accept!), so that Monica was compelled to give up -her plans for that week.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Whether it was that she missed the wholesome -control of school </span><em class="italics">régime</em><span>, or whether, to use a common -phrase, "she got out of bed the wrong side" that -Saturday morning, it would be difficult to say; but -at any rate, things went very much wrong.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>To begin with, Mrs. Beauchamp was confined to -her bed with a feverish cold, and Barnes came down -at breakfast time to say "would Miss Monica please -have her breakfast, and then amuse herself as quietly -as possible, so that grandmother could get a little -sleep, as she had had a very restless night."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Now Monica was not really an unfeeling girl, but -being abnormally healthy and vigorous herself, she -had scant sympathy with ailing people, and was of -opinion that her grandmother coddled herself -frightfully. Added to this, she knew that Mrs. Beauchamp -had intended driving into Osmington that day, to -call on some friends who would be likely to be able -to tell her more about the Franklyns, and whether -Monica might safely be allowed to mix with them. -Now, with this cold, the drive would be impossible, -and perhaps several days would elapse before she -would get full permission to make a friend of Olive. -It certainly </span><em class="italics">was</em><span> vexing; it almost seemed to the -disappointed girl as if her grandmother had caught -cold on purpose; and Olive had hinted only the -day before that perhaps Mrs. Beauchamp would -let Monica come to tea, one day, with them, and -the lonely girl was longing to have her first glimpse -of real home life, and make the acquaintance of -the "Pickle," and see the girls' "den."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And, in her chagrin, Monica, with a hasty movement, -pushed the hot water jug roughly out of -her way, as she reached after the butter dish, with -the result that the silver cream jug, which she had -carelessly placed near the edge of the table, tipped -over, and spilling its contents on the handsome felt -carpet, fell with sufficient force to bend the handle, and -to make a very nasty dent in its pretty fluted side.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, horrors!" ejaculated Monica, "there </span><em class="italics">will</em><span> be -a row!" and she endeavoured to mop up the cream -with her serviette, and tried what she could do -with the jug.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I suppose I must ring for Harriet," she muttered, -in despair, as the carpet seemed to get worse under -her treatment and the jug certainly no better!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Her hasty ring brought the parlourmaid quickly -on the scene, and that worthy held up her hands -in horror at the dreadful state of the carpet.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh! Miss Monica," she gasped, "whatever will -your grandma say? The carpet will be ruined, -you may depend. There'll be a nasty looking stain, -however much we get it out. That's the worst of -these felts," and she hastened away, to return in -a moment with cloths and hot water and various -remedies for the mishap.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Harriet went down on her knees and applied -them vigorously, but an ugly dark patch remained, -and, as she seemed to take great pleasure in -reminding poor Monica, "it always would." She turned -her attention to the cream jug next, but, of course, -could do nothing to remove the dent, or straighten -the twisted handle.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, my!" she said; "your grandma will be -vexed, Miss Monica, so partikler as she always is -about the silver things, on account of their -anticwitty, as she calls it. Well, well!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Poor Monica! How she ached to box the ears -of this Job's comforter; and it is to be feared the -only motive that she had in refraining from doing -so, was that she considered it </span><em class="italics">infra dig.</em><span> of a -lady to strike a menial! She had not learnt the -lesson "that he that ruleth his spirit is better than -he that taketh a city." So, merely shrugging her -shoulders, she said not one syllable to the retreating -parlourmaid, as she departed with her cloths, and -the final remark "that it </span><em class="italics">was</em><span> unfortunate, the missis -laid up, and all."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Monica finished her interrupted meal in gloomy -silence, meditating upon the scene that would be -enacted later on, when her grandmother was made -aware of the mishap.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Having made a bad start, unfortunately Monica -thought it didn't much matter now if she got into -more trouble. So after lounging about in the -schoolroom for half an hour, and finding nothing -to amuse herself with, she decided upon a visit -to the stables.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She knew very well that in going there she was -acting in defiance of her grandmother's expressed -wish; but the spirit of insubordination had seized -hold of Monica, and she felt absolutely reckless. -Old Richards was nowhere to be seen, so she -proceeded to enjoy herself thoroughly, by visiting -"Belle" and "Beauty," the handsome pair of greys -in their loose boxes, and then passed on to inspect -the new pony "Cæsar," who was fastened in his stall.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She had just leaned over the door, the upper half -of which was open, when she espied Tom, the stable-boy, -in the harness-room beyond, busy over polishing -the harness, and humming a tune.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Mornin', miss," he grinned, as he touched his -ragged cap with delight, and went on with his work -with extra briskness. He was a bright little chap -of fourteen, only recently introduced into the Carson -Rise stables, and he appreciated to the full the -magnificent opportunity of "getting on" that the -situation afforded.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For Tom White meant to "get on" to the very -best of his ability; and even Richards, who was -rather grudging of praise, could find no fault in the -little lad, who was as willing as willing could be, -and took the greatest possible pains over all his -jobs.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Is the new pony all right, Tom?" queried -Monica, as she stood looking admiringly at Cæsar, -as he pawed the ground impatiently, and tossed his -silky brown mane. "Will he let me pat him?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Better not, miss," suggested Tom, with an elderly -air, which sat comically upon his young shoulders. -"Mr. Richards, he said this mornin' that he thought -he were a bit of a tartar, miss." And Tom put -down a piece of harness with evident pride in the -high state of polish which his efforts had produced. -He was just going to attack another vigorously, -when Monica bade him come and unfasten the -pony, so that she could see his head better.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Please, miss, I'd rather not." And Tom came -slowly out of the harness-room, but made no effort -to do as Monica said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why not, pray? You surely aren't afraid he'll -bite you?" said Monica sharply. She had an -intense scorn for those who were afraid. "You'll -never be any good for a coachman if you're afraid -of a </span><em class="italics">pony</em><span>." And her proud young face expressed -disgust.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Please, miss, 'tisn't that a bit," said the boy, -his big grey eyes upraised to hers pleadingly; for -he was devoted to Miss Monica. "I ain't a mite -afraid of 'im, but Mr. Richards 'e said, said 'e: 'Now, -Tom, you leave that there pony alone,' says 'e. 'If -'e don't bite, if 'e gits a chance, my name ain't -Richards. You may depend,' says 'e, ''e weren't -called "Seize-'er" for nothin'.'"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nonsense!" said Monica, scornfully, although she -was tickled with the man's unconscious pun. "You -wouldn't bite me, would you, old boy?" she added -to the little chestnut, who eyed her rather maliciously -as she entered the stall, and put out her hand to -rub his soft brown nose.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, don't, miss, please don't!" cried the little -stable-boy, as he tried to snatch her hand away. -But even as he spoke the pony made a grab at -the girlish fingers, and Monica realised too late -that she would have been wiser to pay attention -to the boy's warning, for her hand ached terribly, -and there were ugly tooth marks on the palm and -one or two fingers.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You little wretch! You horrid little vixen!" she -cried, in pain and anger, as she bound her hand, -fortunately the left one, in her handkerchief, and -tried to still the throbbing.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The pony, quiet enough now, appeared to take -no notice of the epithets she poured out upon him, -and Tom stood helplessly by, his very soul in his -liquid grey eyes, wishing with all his heart, poor -little chap, that it had happened to him instead of -to his adored young lady.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Please, miss," he suggested timidly, "'adn't you -better go indoors, and get something to do your -'and good. Shall I run round to the kitchen and -tell 'em?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Monica blessed the warm-hearted little lad for his -evident desire to make matters a little easier for -her indoors, and gladly assented to his plan.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She was thankful when she reached the house that -she was saved the effort of telling what had happened, -for she felt a curious sensation all over her, and -was seized with a desire to fall into the first chair -she came to. Surely she was not going to faint? -Monica Beauchamp had never been known to have -nerves before!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Mercy on us, Miss Monica, you do look bad!" -cried the kindly old cook, as she called to one of -the maids for a glass of water, and sent another -for the vinegar bottle. "La, what a nasty grip the -little beast give you!" she added, as the handkerchief -fell off, and revealed the extent of the damage. -"Get a bowl of warm water, Mary Ann, quick!" And -in another minute she was gently bathing the -injured hand in the water, to which she had added a -little Condy's fluid.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Is that better, miss?" she asked, with kindly -sympathy, glad to notice that the colour was -returning to Monica's cheeks. She was, perhaps, the only -one of all the servants who had any affection for -the girl whose coming had upset the even tenor of -the quiet household, and whose pranks gave them so -much extra trouble.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh! yes, thanks, cook, it doesn't ache quite so -horribly now," she said, with a sigh of relief, as the -woman bound the hand up in some soft old linen, -and Monica prepared to leave the kitchen regions. -But when she let her hand fall for a moment, a -stifled groan escaped her lips, and she raised it -quickly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Let me make a sling of this old scarf, Miss -Monica," said cook, suiting the action to the word, -and hastily improvising a sling from a black and -white check tie, which she produced from one of the -huge dresser drawers. "It's a mercy the skin ain't -broke."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Thanks," was all Monica could manage to say, -for it required all her self-control to keep her lips -firmly clenched, the aching was so intense.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Perhaps Barnes could find some soothin' stuff to -put on it, miss," she called after the girl, as she -slowly ascended the kitchen stairs.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Monica managed to reach the schoolroom door, -where she came face to face with Barnes, who had -been in search of her; and she had to tell the maid -what had befallen her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Dear, dear, Miss Monica," said Barnes, "'tis -nothing but a chapter of accidents this morning; -the missis so poorly, too. But there, 'tis one -consolation the doctor will be here in a few minutes to -see her (for she told me I'd better send for him), -and he'll soon put your hand to rights."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She spoke more cheerfully than she felt, for -Monica looked very unlike her usual self, and she -feared she was going to be ill. "Just you have a bit -of rest in this easy chair, miss," she said, pushing -forward a cosy basket chair, and Monica sank among -the cushions with relief. "Why, there's the doctor's -gig, I do declare," added the maid, with satisfaction, -as wheels sounded on the carriage drive.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The fatherly old doctor, who knew Monica very -well, although she had seldom required any of his -physic, paid her a visit after he had attended to -her grandmother. He examined the bite carefully, -and commiserated with her on the unfortunate -mishap, but said it was not at all a serious matter. -He promised to send some lotion, and told her to -keep her hand in a sling, and he hoped in a day -or two there would be little more than bruises left.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But you mustn't go and put your hand into -the pony's mouth again, my dear child," said he -with a smile, "or you might not get off so easily -again. I can't quite understand how it happened yet."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh! it was all my own fault," admitted Monica, -frankly. "I was warned that the pony might bite, -but, of course, I didn't think he would! In fact, I -ought not to have gone into the stables at all." And -she looked up saucily into the kind old face -bending over her. But the expression in the keen -eyes which looked searchingly at her made her -lower her own, while something akin to shame -filled her heart.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I suspect the colonel would say that obedience -was one of the first duties of a recruit," he said, -slowly; "at any rate, it is one of the hardest lessons -that a soldier of the King of kings has to learn. -My lassie," he added, tenderly, but solemnly, as he -smoothed her ruffled hair with a fatherly touch, -"how much longer are you going on fighting against -Him? Why don't you surrender arms, and begin -to fight for Him, and with Him? You see, I know -that I am talking to a soldier's daughter. Won't -you think about what I have said?" And he took -up his hat and gloves, preparatory to departing.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Monica, remembering her father's last letter, -thought how strange it was that the old doctor -should speak in the same strain, but she was too -shy to mention it, and Dr. Marley feeling that, at -any rate, the seed had been sown in the rebellious -young heart, forbore to say more. But as he drove -on to his next patient he prayed that it might -take root; for the old doctor had known Colonel -Beauchamp since he was a little lad, and he took -a warm interest in his only child.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Monica passed a bad five minutes in her -grandmother's room after the doctor had gone, but the -influence of his words remained with her, and she -refrained from being saucy or off-hand. Indeed, -Mrs. Beauchamp began to fear that the accident -had made her really ill, so wonderfully subdued -and penitent was she.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Considering that she would have to bear the pain -and inconvenience of her injured hand for some -little time, the old lady excused Monica from further -punishment, on condition that she did not disobey -again. Fully intending at the moment to keep -her promise, Monica said she would remember her -grandmother's wishes in future, and the latter -dismissed her, feeling more hopeful about her -grandchild than she had done for a long time.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As she did not feel up to any great exertion, -Monica spent the greater part of the afternoon and -evening in writing a long letter to her father, -telling him, in detail, all about her new school, and, -above all, about her new-found friend. She also -described the happenings of that unfortunate morning, -taking care not to spare herself in the least; but -she felt too shy to say much in reply to his letter, -the only remark she made being: "I have been -thinking about what you wrote, dad dear, and -I mean to try and learn the hard lesson, but I -haven't found a teacher yet." And when the father -read the girlish, blotted, and rather badly spelt -letter, some weeks later, in far off Simla, the tears -rose to his eyes, while he bowed his head and prayed -that God would send some one to guide his little -daughter into the only safe path.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>While Monica was engaged in writing her letter, -Amethyst Drury was busy playing hostess to the -two Franklyns. It was such a lovely sunny -afternoon that Mrs. Drury had given permission -for the trio to have tea in the little rustic -summer-house overlooking the pretty, but by no means -large, lawn.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Isn't it fun having tea out here?" remarked -Amethyst, as the three girls sat lazily in the garden -chairs, having done ample justice to the cocoanut -cake and raspberry jam sandwiches, which had -been provided for the feast by kind Mrs. Drury.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Awfully nice," admitted Olive, "but I must say -I wish Monica could have been here too."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh! Ollie," said Elsa, hastily, with an apologetic -glance at Amethyst, for she feared she would think -her sister rude.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Amethyst's eyes flashed, and she burst out -indignantly: "I can't bear that girl! She's going -to spoil everything, and we had such lovely times -together before she came." And her lips trembled, -and in a minute more there would have been an -April shower. But Elsa the peacemaker interposed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Putting her arm lovingly round the little hostess, -she said, soothingly: "Olive didn't mean anything -unkind, dear, I am sure. And I don't think Monica -will make much difference, because, you see, she -lives so far away. And besides, if Olive and Monica -become great friends, that leaves me out in the cold; -and I want you, Thistle."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Of course," added Olive. "You two are cut out -for each other, and I always feel like a fish out of -water amongst you. But let's have a game now, -shall we?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And in the intricacies of playing croquet-golf, -as best they could, all against all, the little -unpleasantness blew over.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="this-is-monica-beauchamp-mother"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER VII.</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">"THIS IS MONICA BEAUCHAMP, MOTHER."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>But Amethyst remembered it again, later on, as -she was preparing to get into her little white -bed, after the Saturday night bathing operations were -over. Mrs. Drury was with her, brushing out the -soft fair hair, and plaiting it up into a smooth -pigtail.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Mumsie," she said suddenly, twisting herself -round, so that the bow Mrs. Drury was tying nearly -slipped out of her hand, and she bade the child keep -still a moment longer.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Now, what is it, girlie?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, mumsie, I do </span><em class="italics">wish</em><span> Monica Beauchamp had -never been born!" Amethyst brought out the -words with such vehemence, that for the moment her -mother was too astonished to reply.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I do, mumsie," repeated the child vehemently.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Amethyst, I am ashamed of you," said her mother -sternly. "I cannot understand what you mean. I -don't think you quite know what you are saying."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I do mean it, really, mumsie, but I daresay it's -wicked of me. Only I know she's going to spoil -everything, and Olive doesn't care a bit about me -now; all she wants is Monica." And Amethyst -repeated what Olive had said that afternoon. But -if she expected her mother to take her part, she was -disappointed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am afraid my girlie is jealous of this new rival," -she said, gently, as she drew the little night-gowned -figure on to her knee. "You must not expect to be -first always, Amethyst. You have had very happy -times with the Franklyns, and I have been very -pleased for them to make up a little of what you -miss by having no sisters. But Olive, especially, -seems older than you, and I do not at all wonder at -her making this new friend, and I only hope that -they will help each other to be good girls. And, -surely, Amethyst, if you have Elsa left, you ought to -be content. I do not know a nicer, dearer girl than -Elsa, anywhere. I am really very glad that it is she -who is left to you. It might be very sad if </span><em class="italics">she</em><span> -forsook you for some one else, but I don't think Elsa -Franklyn would do that."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, I'm sure she wouldn't, mumsie," cried the -warm-hearted little girl; "she is a dear old darling, -and, as you say, so long as I have her it doesn't -matter so much about Olive. All the same, I wish -that Monica had never come to our school."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am afraid you have already forgotten the passage -you have been learning this evening, for your Sunday -class to-morrow," said her mother, somewhat sadly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And Amethyst hung her head in confusion, for the -verses she had been saying over and over, not an -hour before, were those of that beautiful chapter -in the first epistle to the Corinthians, where the -Apostle says: "Without charity, I am nothing."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I forgot, mumsie," she murmured.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, dear; alas! we all forget so soon. Shall -we kneel down together now, darling, and ask our -loving Heavenly Father to root up this little weed of -jealousy, and sow instead the seed of unselfish love; -not only for those we have a natural affection for, -but love even for our enemy if we had one."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Amethyst Drury often looked back to that Saturday -night, and her mother's prayer, in the days and -weeks that followed; and the memory of it helped -her to overcome her feeling of aversion towards the -girl who had, to a large extent, usurped her place.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Monica's hand was sufficiently better by the -following Monday to allow of her going to school; but -the sling which the doctor insisted upon her using -excited so many remarks that she wished she had -not gone. She put off the girls, as long as she -could, but at last, in sheer desperation, she told them -exactly what had happened.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Her explanation was received in varied ways. -One or two of the well-behaved girls looked askance -at such insubordination, and lost interest in the -result of pure disobedience; but several of the more -reckless-minded, Olive among the number, exclaimed -at the severity of old Mrs. Beauchamp in forbidding -her to go in the stable-yard.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Catch me keeping that rule," cried one.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Or me either," said another. "Why, I should just -like to see my father trying to stop me visiting the -dog-kennels, and petting our old grey pony."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I suppose my grandmother has a perfect right to -do as she likes in her own house?" said Monica -haughtily, and the girls muttered, "Oh, yes, of course," -in confusion, scarcely knowing what to make of this -very peculiar girl.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The days passed swiftly on, without much incident -to mark them, until another Saturday drew near, -and Monica, happy in her grandmother's permission -to be as friendly as occasion necessitated with the -Franklyns, realised that on that afternoon she was -going to have her first peep into the home life of a -big houseful of young people.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A nicely worded note from Olive's mother asking -Mrs. Beauchamp to allow her granddaughter to -spend from three to seven with her girls had been -graciously answered in the affirmative by the old -lady, who, though she thought it right to be very -stern with Monica, was really anxious for the girl to -mix with other young people. So she arranged to -drive in the direction of Osmington that afternoon, -and drop Monica at the Franklyns' door.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Monica, who was tremendously excited at what -was really a great event in her life, tried her utmost -to pay attention to the old lady's advice, as they -bowled along in the handsome victoria.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Very well, grandmother, I will be sure to -remember," she replied dutifully, to some injunction -of Mrs. Beauchamp's, and she looked so good -and well-behaved that the old lady's heart quite -warmed towards this troublesome, but wonderfully -taking, granddaughter of hers.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For Monica looked extremely well in a new coat -and skirt of the darkest shade of blue, which, being -unfastened, showed a pretty delaine blouse, with a -suggestion of pink among its colourings; while the -French sailor hat, simply trimmed with a huge rosette -of dark blue, exactly suited her bright young face. -It was very seldom that the girl troubled about her -personal appearance: her usual cry being that "it -was too much fag" to make herself look nice, but -on this occasion she had been quite ready to fall -in with her grandmother's wish that she should -dress herself suitably.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Here we are, grandmamma," said Monica, as -the victoria pulled up at the iron gates over which -the regulation doctor's lamp was swinging, and in -a moment more she was on the pavement.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Now, Monica, remember, you are on no account -to be late in getting ready to come home. Richards -will be here punctually at seven, and you must -be sure not to keep the pony standing."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Very well, grandmother." Monica could see -a well-known face at one of the windows, so she -was eager to be off, and promised readily. Her -hand was on the iron gate, when her grandmother's -voice recalled her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh! and, Monica----"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Very reluctantly she turned back, and the face -under the upturned hat-brim did not look quite so -fascinating, with the expression of vexation it had -assumed at the delay.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Please to remember that you are my granddaughter, -and behave yourself as such."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Fortunately, the horses grew restive and made -a jerk forward, before Monica's pettish exclamation, -"I never get a chance to forget it!" reached -Mrs. Beauchamp's ears, or that lady would have had her -return drive disturbed by the thought of her -grandchild's ingratitude.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The little cloud soon disappeared from Monica's -brow, and her face was all smiles again as she -received a boisterous welcome from her "chum."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is jolly to have you, Monica!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It's ever so much more jolly to come, then!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And the two girls laughed gaily, in their -buoyancy of spirit.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Come up and take your things off first, and -then you shall investigate our 'den' and all its -treasures," suggested Olive, as the two girls ascended -the staircase, arm-in-arm. As they went up, Olive -pointed out the various rooms, lowering her voice -as they passed her mother's closed door.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Mother wants to see you ever so much, Monica, -but she always has to rest in the afternoon, so -I am to take you to her room later on. This is -our room--Elsa's and mine," she continued, as they -crossed the wide landing, and entered a half-open -door. "It's not very big, so we keep most of our -property upstairs."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>If Monica thought she had never been in such -a small, poorly furnished room before, she made -no outward sign. Two small beds, a simple wash-stand, -and chest of drawers (which also did duty -as toilet table), a couple of chairs, and an impromptu -wardrobe made by a shelf and some cretonne -curtains, was all the furniture the room contained. -How vastly different was it from the elegant -apartment she called her own at Carson Rise!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Her hat and coat were off in a moment, and -then the two friends climbed another flight of stairs, -and the "den" was reached.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Now, isn't it a dear old place?" cried Olive, -enthusiastically, as she showed her friend into every -nook and corner of the queer L-shaped room, and -Monica warmly agreed with her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What do you use it for, and who does it belong to?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh! it really used to be shared by the whole -family, and when the boys lived at home, and went -to Osmington College, we had gay old times up here, -between us. But now they are away, and as Lois -has so much to do about the house, and Kath looks -after mother, it pretty well belongs to Elsa and me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh! by the way, where is Elsa?" asked the -visitor, suddenly remembering her existence.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"She took the two little ones out for a walk. -Funny of her not to want to be in when you were -coming, wasn't it?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And Olive flung her arm round her friend, and -hugged her impetuously.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It never so much as entered Olive's head that -her twin sister had unselfishly absented herself on -purpose, so that she might have the satisfaction -and pleasure of having her friend all to herself for -a little while. It had not been exactly easy for -Elsa, either, to suggest that she should take the -little ones with her, and go on an errand that needed -to be done, for she, too, was very much attracted -by the winsomeness of this new schoolfellow, -although Monica's many faults repelled her at times; -in fact, a year before, Elsa Franklyn would not -have troubled a bit about it, she would have sought -to please herself first, whatever the circumstances -might be. But now, she was wont to ask herself -on occasions like these: "What would Jesus do -if He were in my place just now?" and the answer -coming back, very distinctly, she sought by His -help to act as she felt convinced He would.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Olive, self-seeking, self-loving Olive, often wondered -at various little sacrifices, quietly and unostentatiously -made, but accepted them without demur, stifling -her conscience, which accused her very plainly, by -persuading herself that Elsa was such a "mouse" -she really didn't care about things a bit, so it was -no sacrifice to her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The two girls perched themselves on the high -window seat whence they could see the river gliding -swiftly by the bottom of the large, old-fashioned -garden, and indulged in a long, long "confab," as -Olive termed it, after the newly painted things (which -had caused such disaster to Olive's dress) had been -admired among many other things.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At length, when each had confided to the other -all that was in her heart, a sound of youthful voices -was heard in the hall below, and in a few moments -more, Elsa appeared on the scene.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Where are Joan and Pat?" said Olive, as Monica -and Elsa greeted each other with the school-girl's -typical "How d'you do?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"They went to Nanny."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Because Monica wants to see Paddy. Go and -fetch him up, Elsa, there's a good girl."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Mayn't Joan come, too?" pleaded Elsa; "she -wants to, ever so much."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, yes!" said Olive, with good-humoured -benignity; "let her come if she likes. But Monica -doesn't care for small girls."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I really don't know anything about children," -said Monica, as Elsa went off at Olive's request.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, I think, myself, that they are a perfect -nuisance," admitted her friend; "they are always -in the way, or getting into mischief, but Paddy is -such a jolly little chap, everybody takes a fancy -to him."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And as soon as Monica saw him, she added yet -another to the number of those whom Master Pat, -the Pickle, had slain with the sword of his fascinations. -He came peeping in the door, demurely twisting -his clean holland overall in restless little fingers, -as he looked shyly out of his lovely blue eyes at -the tall girl who had not the least idea of what to -say to "small fry."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Come here, little man," she ventured somewhat -stiffly at length, holding out a hand to him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Don't fink I will, big girl," was the unexpected -reply, which sent them off into roars of laughter. -Paddy, perceiving he had said something comical, -laughed gleefully, and added, drolly: "Aren't I a -pickle?" which, of course, amused them all the more.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The laugh set them all at their ease, and a happy -half-hour was spent over one thing and another; -Joan sitting quietly looking on, while her little -brother received most of the attention. Monica had -to be told of some of Paddy's escapades--how once -he had got hold of the garden hose, and hiding -behind some shrubs, had squirted the water all over -Nanny, who was searching everywhere for him. -And how another time father had come in one -evening to find a stream of water running out at the -front door, and they found the mischievous little -boy had turned the bathroom tap on, and left it, -and the bath overflowing; the water, of course, was -running like a river down the stairs and through -the hall!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Paddy </span><em class="italics">was</em><span> whipped that night," interpolated -Joan solemnly, and Pat added innocently, "Yes, -</span><em class="italics">naughty</em><span> Paddy; but you can't 'spect no better of -a 'pickle.'"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The tea-bell rang before they could have imagined -it was time for that meal, and Monica, who was -really somewhat shy of strangers, had to make the -acquaintance of the twins' elder sisters. But Lois' -kindly courtesy and Kathleen's merry chatter soon -made her feel quite at home amongst them. The -doctor, too, came in just as they had begun tea, the -result of Olive's persistent pleading that he would -be sure to be early so as to see her "dear Monica," -and as he exerted himself to help entertain the young -guest a sigh of regret rose to the latter's lips -when the happy, homely meal was over.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A stroll round the old-fashioned garden with Olive -and Elsa included a visit to the rabbit-hutch and -dovecot, and ended with a splendid swing; the twins, -who were by no means novices at swinging, being -really frightened at the height to which Monica -worked herself up. But she knew no fear, and -rather enjoyed seeing the anxiety which Elsa evinced -every time the ropes creaked uneasily.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, do go lower, Monica!" she pleaded; but -the wayward girl only laughed. Even Olive tried -to dissuade her from going so recklessly high, but -Monica showed no sign of lessening her speed, and -would doubtless have eventually overbalanced -herself, had not little Joan run out to say that her -mother was ready to see Monica now.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>With a merry laugh the girl slowed down, and -finally dropped from the seat and catching hold of -Olive, said mischievously: "Were you afraid you -would have to pick up a bundle of broken bones? -I am sure Dr. Franklyn would have liked mending -them up again!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, don't, Monica!" was all Olive said, but her -silence and Elsa's still scared-looking face, made -Monica realise that she had gone a little too far, -and she felt somewhat subdued as they retraced -their steps to the house.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Kathleen came out of her mother's room as the -girls tapped at the door.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Mother is very anxious to see your friend, Olive," -she said, with a bright little smile; "she is feeling -fairly well to-day."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Monica was seized with a sudden fit of intense -shyness, and would gladly have escaped the ordeal, -but Olive, never dreaming that her haughty young -friend was troubled with any such thing as nervousness, -pushed her forward as the door closed after -Kathleen's retreating figure, saying: "This is Monica -Beauchamp, mother."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And Monica looking straight before her, saw a -pale, gentle face, with large luminous eyes, and heard -a sweet, soft voice murmuring words of welcome, -while the thin white hands clasped her strong young -ones, and drew her proud young head down low -enough for the invalid to print a loving motherly kiss -upon the frank, open brow.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You do not mind, dear?" said Mrs. Franklyn -gently, as she scanned the face of Olive's new friend -with eager intensity. "If you are Olive's friend, you -must be mine, too."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And Monica murmured something to the effect that -she would like to be.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A few minutes were spent in pleasant chatter, -about the school, and one thing and another, and -Mrs. Franklyn, reading between the lines, got a very -good insight into the character of Olive's friend. "A -girl with wonderful possibilities before her," she -thought to herself, "but----" The unfinished sentence -ended in a sigh, for she was thinking of this -stranger's influence over her little girl.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Meanwhile Olive was showing the photographs -of all the brothers and sisters, which made quite -a picture gallery of the mantelpiece; but remembering -yet another of her two brothers, taken together, -which was in the drawing-room, she ran off to -get it, saying: "Monica must see that one, mother; -take care of each other until I come back."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The door had no sooner closed after Olive than -Mrs. Franklyn, turning to the girl who was sitting -beside her couch, said, in the tenderest of tones, -"My child, are you a Christian?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Monica started with astonishment, for she had -no idea the Franklyns were what she called -"religious," and scarcely knew what to answer, but -the kind, motherly eyes seemed to read her very -thoughts, and she felt constrained to reply as she did.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No,--I am not. But my father wants me to be."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Then, oh! my child, why don't you?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't think I want to be one," said Monica, -slowly; "at least, not yet."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Don't put it off, childie; life is very short. If -you know the way----"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But I don't," interrupted Monica; "that's just -what I don't know. Perhaps if I knew how to set -about it I might be one."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The Lord Jesus----" began Mrs. Franklyn.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But, alas! Olive came bursting into the room, -and the precious opportunity had gone. The invalid -could only whisper: "Read the 3rd chapter of -St. John, and ask God to show you the way, dear child," -when, a few moments later, Monica bent over her -to say, "Good-bye."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And Monica said she would. But, alas! she put -the thought aside that night, thinking Sunday -afternoon would be a good opportunity for reading -the chapter; and when the next day came she was -deep in the pages of a fascinating book, and had -completely forgotten her promise to Mrs. Franklyn.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="mind-you-are-not-late"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER VIII.</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">"MIND YOU ARE NOT LATE!"</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>The days and weeks passed quickly at school, -once the new term's work was well begun, -and the half-term holiday was drawing near.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Monica had never forgotten Lily Howell's trick -to get her into trouble, but she felt above paying -her out, so she left her severely alone. As it -happened, that was perhaps the most trying -punishment she could have devised for a girl of Lily's -disposition, who ardently longed to be "taken up" -by people such as the Beauchamps, whom her -father called "The Quality"; and Monica's absolute -indifference to her piqued her terribly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Lily was telling her mother about it one day, -and complaining of being sent to Coventry by -"that Monica Beauchamp, who gives herself such -airs, just for all the world as if she was a -duchess!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Howell, a kindly creature of ample -proportions, who always felt impelled to address her -magnificent housekeeper as "ma'am," and who -never ceased to wish for the happy olden days -when first she had married Bob Howell, and kept -house on little less than a pound a week, sighed -feebly as she looked helplessly at her young -daughter, who tyrannised frightfully over her "Ma," -as she called her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, I'm sure, my dear," she ventured, "you -might be content with havin' such nice young ladies -as the Miss Masters to make friends of, without -'ankerin' after the gentry."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I do wish you wouldn't leave out all your 'g's,' -ma," cried Lily, pettishly; "it's dreadful the way -you talk. And as for the Masters, they're only -butchers, and I detest being mixed up with shop -people." And the girl stamped her foot in disgust.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Howell, who was shedding a quiet tear or -two over her child's unkindness, sniffed loudly, and -said: "I'm sure shop people is plenty good enough -for girls as behaves to their poor ma like you do, -and I don't wonder as this Miss Beauchamp don't -take up with you. I wish to goodness your pa -had never made a fortune, that I do; for it's a -worry from mornin' to night, a-mindin' my manners -here, and a-shuttin' up my mouth there!" And -the poor, lonely woman, surrounded with every -luxury and elegance that money could buy, but -who felt less free than a canary in its cage, wept -silently.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For a minute, Lily regarded her with some sort -of compunction, but she was afraid of giving way -to her better nature, so merely saying: "Well, I'm -sure, ma, there's nothing to cry about," turned on -her heel, and left the room.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And the poor mother, who had strained every -nerve, in her younger days, to make her only -child's life one of cloudless happiness, realised that -she and her husband had made a bitter mistake -in educating Lily "as a lady," for it was only too -evident that she now considered herself immensely -superior to her parents; and as for affection for -them she had little or none.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There was little talked of at the High School -that second week in June but the approaching -half-term holiday, and various ways of spending it. -Some of the girls, whose homes were at a distance, -but who either lived or boarded with friends in -Osmington, so as to attend the High School, were -looking forward to a week-end at home; while -others were going to stay from the Friday to -Monday night with relations.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Monica and Olive had discussed several plans -for spending the long-looked-forward-to holiday, -each of which was delightful in its own way. But -eventually, with Mrs. Beauchamp's consent, it was -decided that the first part of the day should be -spent picnic-fashion, the girls returning to a -substantial tea at Carson Rise.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Monica would have preferred having Olive only -to spend a long day with her, but Mrs. Beauchamp, -who had made the acquaintance of the Franklyn -twins, and had taken a great fancy to quiet, nicely -behaved Elsa, stipulated that if one sister came, -both did; so as Monica said: "To make it all square, -let's have Amethyst Drury as well."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Accordingly, on the most perfect of sunny June -mornings the quartette having met at a given spot -at eleven o'clock made their way to a favourite -place in Disbrowe woods, and prepared to enjoy -themselves to the full.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The same river which ran past the bottom of -the Franklyns' garden, a mile away, flowed through -the pretty little copse which enjoyed the above -grand cognomen, because it was included in the -Disbrowe estate, and the few acres of cherished -copse seemed like "woods" in that suburban -neighbourhood. It was in this copse that the Osmington -people gathered their spring flowers, for the ground -was carpeted with primroses during the month of -April; and here, too, the boys and girls went nutting -in the autumn.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But in June there was nothing to gather, so the -girls who had brought well-filled lunch baskets and -books with which to while away the time, gave -themselves up to what Olive called "a thorough laze."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Seating themselves in characteristic fashion, Monica -and Olive up amongst the low-spreading branches -of an old oak, while Amethyst and Elsa chose the -grassy hillocks caused by its roots, the quartette -soon opened their baskets, and the contents -disappeared with startling rapidity. As Monica said, -"the river smelt quite sea-i-fied," and gave them -an extra good appetite; indeed, if it had not been -for Elsa, poor Hero, the collie, who Mrs. Beauchamp -had suggested should accompany the girls for -protection's sake, would have fared badly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>However, he managed to make a very good meal, -and was lying down fast asleep in the shade, while -the girls, whose tongues had grown tired with talking, -were either reading, or lying curled up half asleep -on the grassy slope, gazing dreamily at the river, as -it flowed smoothly and silently on, when they were -all aroused by a short sharp bark, followed by -a low growl, and Hero had bounded up the slope -to a path which ran along at the top, and which -was one of the least frequented paths in the wood.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Whatever can he see?" cried Monica; "a rabbit, -I expect."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, call him back, Monica, do! Perhaps he will -do some mischief," said Elsa.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nonsense! He's only chasing a rabbit or a bird."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But even as she spoke there came the sound -of feeble crying, as of some one in trouble, and all -four girls dropped their books, and ran swiftly up -the incline. Arrived there they found Hero, who -was still growling at intervals, sniffing suspiciously -at a large bundle, done up in a red cotton -handkerchief, which was lying on the path: and a few -steps away, a poor old body, in a quaint poke bonnet -and black shawl, was holding herself up with one -hand on the limb of an ash tree, while her other, -all knotted with rheumatism, was grasping a stout -walking-stick.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Her gown bore traces of Hero's paws, and it was -evident from her panting and half-sobbing breath -that she had been very much upset.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As the girls drew near she raised her stick and -shook it at the dog, crying, "Oh, the beast, the beast, -the wicked beast!" while Monica caught hold of -Hero by his collar and dragged him away from -the bundle which had great attractions for him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The situation was not without its comical side, -and Olive and Monica, seeing no tragedy in it, both -began to titter quite audibly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ah, you may laugh; mebbe 'tis nothin' but -sport to young leddies like you," cried the little old -woman, as she glanced angrily at them. "But 'tis -a sorry thing for me; I'm fair shattered wi' fright."</span></p> -<div class="align-center auto-scaled figure margin" style="width: 61%" id="figure-47"> -<span id="ah-you-may-laugh-mebbe-tis-nothin-but-sport-to-young-leddies-like-you"></span><img class="align-center block" style="display: block; width: 100%" alt=""'AH, YOU MAY LAUGH; MEBBE 'TIS NOTHIN' BUT SPORT TO YOUNG LEDDIES LIKE YOU.'"" src="images/img-111.jpg" /> -<div class="caption centerleft figure-caption margin"> -<span class="italics">"'AH, YOU MAY LAUGH; MEBBE 'TIS NOTHIN' BUT SPORT TO YOUNG LEDDIES LIKE YOU.'"</span></div> -</div> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Poor old thing!" whispered Amethyst to Elsa; -"see how she is shuddering still. I should have -been afraid of Hero myself, if he had suddenly -bounced upon me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," was all Elsa said, and the next moment -she had slipped up to the old woman, and with a -pitiful look in her eyes had taken one of the knotted, -wrinkled hands in her own, while she said gently: -"We are very sorry, really we are. We wouldn't -have let Hero frighten you for anything, if we had -known you were here. But people hardly ever come -along this path."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ah! little lady, you've got a kind heart, I can -see," said the old granny, as she looked up into -the bright, young face, which evinced real sympathy -for her; "not like them two yonder, a-makin' sport -o' an old body like me. They'll be rewarded one -of these days, though."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She clutched her stick tightly and prepared to -pick up her bundle; but Amethyst stooped for her -and gave it to her with a smile.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Thank you, my pretty dear. God bless you both -for helpin' me. And now I'll get on a bit, if that -there beast 'll let me." But even as she spoke, -she tottered and would have fallen, but for a -helping-hand from Elsa.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"'Tis the rheumatizzy, missy; it ketches me all -of a heap like, nows and thens."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Let us go a little way with her, Thistle," suggested -Elsa, and Amethyst agreed readily, although their -companions tried to persuade them not to go.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Whereabouts are you going?" asked Elsa.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"To my darter's, missy; Joe Hodges' wife she be -as lives over agin Disbrowe House."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh! I know Mrs. Hodges, Elsa," cried Amethyst; -"she comes to the mothers' meeting. Her husband -works for Sir Tudor Disbrowe."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"So he do, missy, and they has a cottage on -the estate, so they've a-told me. But I be a stranger -to these parts, and I must have mistook my way -a-crossin' the copse. I tried to foller the 'rections -they gave me at the station, but I made sure I'd -took a wrong turn just as that there animal -a-bounced at me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It's more than a mile from here to Mrs. Hodges' -cottage," said Amethyst, somewhat dubiously. She -was not quite sure that her good nature was equal -to traversing all that distance with the comical old -woman.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Can you walk so far as that, if we help you, -do you think?" asked Elsa.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, my dear young lady," expostulated Granny -Wood (as she was generally called), "I don't like -to let you do it. I really don't."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, we don't mind, do we, Elsa?" said -Amethyst, a little grandiloquently. "Just look after -our baskets and books till we come back, you girls." This -she called out to Monica and Olive, who had -retreated to a little distance and were watching the -proceedings with amusement and contempt.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You won't find us here when you get back, you -needn't fear," retorted Olive. "It's likely to be a -lengthy affair! If you're both determined to go, -you'd better take your things with you and meet -us at the white gate in West Lane. What is the -time now, Monica?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Two o'clock," replied the only owner of a watch -among the quartette.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, we'll meet you about three o'clock, and -mind you are not late."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"All right," called back Amethyst, as the queer -little party set off, the old woman supported by -Elsa's strong, young arm on one side and her stick -in her right hand, while Amethyst carried the -handkerchief bundle.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We shan't wait after half-past three, whatever -happens," shouted Monica, "so if you're later than -that, go straight to Carson Rise."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, we shall be there in time," returned -Amethyst, and the trio disappeared round a turn -in the pathway.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What a fuss about nothing," said Olive, as the -girls returned to their seat by the river, and Monica -fastened Hero to the trunk of a tree.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, perfect twaddle I call it," returned her -friend; "but there, if they like to do it, it doesn't -matter to us." And she took up the book she -had flung down in her hurry, and hunted about -for her place. "Babyish sort of story this," she -added, as she turned over the pages, "nothing at -all exciting in it. How do you like yours, Olive?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, pretty fair; it's rather childish, too, but -mother is very particular about what we read; she -won't let us girls look at a novel."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Grandmother never troubles about what I read," -said Monica. "I've got some jolly books at home, -I'll show them to you after tea. I am reading -one now that I wanted to bring out with me, but -that little Amethyst's eyes are as sharp as needles, -and she might have picked it up. I must lend it -to you when I've done. It's an awfully jolly story -called A Cruel Fate."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It sounds nice," said Olive, "but if it's a novel, -mother won't let me read it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Surely you don't have to show her everything -you read?" cried Monica, and there was a suggestion -of scorn in her tone, which touched a weak -spot in Olive's nature; she could not bear being -sneered at.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Of course not," she replied hastily.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, you shall have it later on."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And then the conversation dropped, and they went -on reading.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Meanwhile, the progress that the old granny and -and her two young companions made was very slow. -The sudden, unexpected appearance of the big -dog had really upset her, and she was very shaky -and nervous still. By the time half a mile had -been traversed, her feeble steps began to flag, and -it was only by dint of resting very often, and leaning -very heavily upon one or other of the girls, that at -length the daughter's cottage was reached.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Elsa and Amethyst were by no means sorry when -their task was over. They had not thought it -would be such a tedious journey, and they were -very glad when they had left the old woman safely -ensconced in an armchair by Mrs. Hodges' fireside, -while that worthy followed them to the gate, -overwhelming them with thanks for their very great -kindness to her old mother.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'm sure, miss, we never can thank you both -enough," she repeated again and again, as she -held the little green gate open for them to go -through.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Please don't say any more," replied Elsa, -earnestly; "we were very glad to do what we -could to help your mother."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And as the two girls hastened off, the words the -grateful old woman had repeated reverently, as they -bade her "good-bye," rang in Elsa's ears like a -benediction: "Inasmuch as ye have done it unto -the least of these ... ye have done it unto ME."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But Amethyst's thoughts were in quite another -direction.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It must be awfully late, Elsa," she said, as they -hurried along the quiet road which skirted the copse, -and which would bring them eventually to West -Lane, where they had arranged to meet the others. -"We were ages getting there."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, I suppose it is," replied Elsa, coming back -to the present moment with a start; "why, now -I remember it, the grandfather's clock in Mrs. Hodges' -room was nearly three o'clock."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Good gracious!" cried Amethyst. "I never -noticed it; let's hope it was fast. But, anyhow, we -shall have a business to reach the white gate in time;" -and they quickened their footsteps into a run.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At length the trysting place was reached, and -they were glad to find that they were the first on -the spot.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Now we can have a rest and get back our -breath," said Amethyst, as they perched themselves -on the white gate, and fanned their flushed faces -with their straw hats. "Oh, I say, how hot and -tired I am!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I do wish we knew what the time was," said Elsa, -who looked rather worried.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, it's a great bother not having a watch, -but I'm to have one next Christmas, so there's not -very much longer to wait;" and Amethyst heaved -a little sigh of satisfaction. Then she jumped off -the gate and ran into the road, as she heard footsteps -approaching, expecting it to be the other two girls, -but it was only a nurse pushing a baby in a mail cart.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Do you think she'd know the time, Elsa?" -she said, as she ran back to the gate.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You might ask her," replied the elder girl.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The next moment Amethyst returned with a look -of incredulous horror on her little flushed face.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It's actually four o'clock, Elsa! What </span><em class="italics">shall</em><span> we do?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>With a spring, Elsa was on the ground beside her, -and the two girls gazed at each other in consternation.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why, they said they would not wait after -half-past three, and they must have gone long before -we came, and here we have been waiting ever so -long for them. Oh, it is </span><em class="italics">too</em><span> bad!" cried Amethyst, -nearly in tears.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That clock must have been dreadfully slow," -said Elsa. "Perhaps it was not even going. But -cheer up, Thistle, we can get to Carson Rise in less -than half an hour from here, and we shall be in time -for tea. It wasn't our fault, dear; we couldn't help -it, if we are late."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't half like going by ourselves," said -Amethyst, as they hurried along the hot, dusty road -towards Mydenham; "you see, I've never been there yet."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh! it will be all right," returned Elsa consolingly. -"Mrs. Beauchamp is very kind, really, although -Monica thinks she is strict. She will understand -when we explain. I daresay the other two had only -just left when we arrived."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="have-a-ride-monica"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER IX.</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">"HAVE A RIDE, MONICA?"</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"Oh, dear me!" yawned Monica, as she -stretched herself lazily, and shut up her -book. "I feel awfully sleepy."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Have a snooze, then," returned Olive, who was -deep in the intricacies of her story; "only just tell -me the time first."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Good gracious!" cried her friend, as she twisted -her wristlet round, so as to see the hands of the -watch it enclosed; "it's just upon three."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"How the time has flown," said Olive, shutting -up her book somewhat reluctantly; "we must be -going at once. I expect the other two are at the -white gate already."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Not they," ejaculated Monica, as she unfastened -Hero, and put her book in her empty lunch basket. -And when, five minutes later, they reached the -appointed meeting-place, and no trace of the others -was to be seen, she said: "I told you so."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, I suppose we must wait about a bit for -them," said Olive, "they can't be many minutes. -Let's perch on the gate posts and read a bit." She -had only a few pages left, and was anxious to see -what became of her heroine. But Monica's story -was ended, so she looked about her for some other -amusement.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In less than a minute the gay chatter of girls -sounded on the still, summer air, and Olive, looking -up from her book, said: "There they are."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But Monica, who had gone to reconnoitre, said: -"No, it's only some of the High School girls--Gipsy -Monroe and her little sisters, with a bicycle."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Hullo!" they said, as they came up, "what are -you up to?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Waiting for Elsa Franklyn and Thistle Drury," -was Monica's reply. "Seen anything of them?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No," replied the dark-haired, dark-eyed girl, -rightly nicknamed "Gipsy," instead of the plainer -appellation of Emily which she had been given. She -was holding a younger girl on the bicycle, who -jumped off as she brought it to a stand-still. "Have -a ride, Monica?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Now Monica knew that her grandmother had a -great abhorrence of girls riding bicycles, and, indeed, -she had expressly forbidden her granddaughter to -attempt to mount one. But Monica, in this, as in -most things, entirely disagreed with her grandmother, -and felt with the boundless self-confidence of youth -that her own opinion was far the best. So without -a qualm of conscience, she readily accepted the offer.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I can't balance myself a bit," she said, as she -mounted the machine, while Gipsy held it steady. "I -have tried once or twice, but I always wobble -frightfully." And her movements proved she was right.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, I say, how heavy you are!" cried Gipsy, in -dismay, as Monica and the bicycle rolled first one way -and then the other. "Come and hold her up, Olive."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Things went better then, with two to steady the -uncertain rider, and they had gone some little distance -along the road, when the Monroe children, who were -a little behind, called out: "Look out, here's a -motor!" And in another second the car whizzed by them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They never knew just how it happened; whether -Monica overbalanced, or whether she steered purposely -into the hedge, so as to avoid the motor, but -the next instant the bicycle overturned, and Monica -lay all huddled up underneath it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh! Monica, are you hurt?" cried both girls -simultaneously, as they lifted up the bicycle, and -stood it against the hedge. But Monica neither -moved nor spoke.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, she's dead!" cried the younger children, as -they looked at the inanimate form, lying so still on -the dusty road.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nonsense!" said a loud, cheery voice beside them, -and looking up, startled, the girls saw that the motor -had been brought to a standstill not many yards -off, and its occupant had come back to see what -was the matter. "Not a bit of it! The lass has -only twisted her foot a bit, by the look of it, and -I expect she's either stunned or fainted. I'll lift her -up," and suiting the action to the word, the stranger, -whom the girls had recognised as Lily Howell's -father, raised Monica gently in his strong arms.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The movement roused Monica, and she opened her -eyes, saying with a shudder, "Oh, my foot, my foot!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, Monica, Monica!" cried Olive, who was -nearly beside herself with fright, and who was -terrified when she thought of Mrs. Beauchamp.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There, that'll do, missy!" interposed Mr. Howell, -in his bluff, hearty voice; "just you let me carry -her to the car there, and we'll have this foot attended -to in a jiffy."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And in another moment Monica was half-lying, -half-sitting in the car, supported by Mr. Howell -and Olive, whom he had bade get up as well, when -he understood they were together; the Monroes -following on foot with the bicycle, which had been -the innocent cause of the calamity.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Drive on home, Cobb," said Mr. Howell to his -chauffeur; while he added to Olive, "It's the nearest -place, and we shall soon see how much damage is done."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, she's fainted again!" cried poor Olive, as -Monica's head fell helplessly against the broad -shoulder which was supporting it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"By Jove! she has," ejaculated the man under -his breath, and he noticed with relief that another -minute would see them at his door.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was the work of a very few moments to carry -the injured girl into the house, and lay her gently -on a huge couch, which was placed under an open -window in one of the expensively furnished rooms. -The next thing was to remove the shoe from the -fast-swelling foot, to find Mrs. Howell, and send for -the doctor.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Franklyn is nearest," said the plutocrat to a -smartly liveried footman, who waited for orders. -"Get him to come at once, or if he's out, bring -any one you can find."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, I hope father will come!" said Olive pitifully, -as she rubbed Monica's cold hands and tried to -rouse her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Are you one of Franklyn's girls, then?" asked -Mr. Howell; "and who is this young lady?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Monica Beauchamp. Her grandmother lives at -Carson Rise, Mydenham."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, I've heard of her from my girl," and Lily's -father had a good look at the object of his child's -envious dislike. "We'll send a message to her -grandma as soon as the doctor's been."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The door opened, and Mrs. Howell appeared on the -scene, followed by a maid bringing water, smelling-salts, -and various other remedies. Her plain, homely -face wore an expression of anxiety, and she had -evidently hurried so much in response to her husband's -imperative summons, that she was short of breath.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Here, Caroline, you'll know best what to do," -said Mr. Howell; "see if you can pull her round. -I'll be on the look out for the doctor," and he left -the room as he spoke.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Bless me!" was all Mrs. Howell could find breath -enough to say, but she busied herself with trying the -various restoratives the elderly servant handed to -her, and in a few moments Monica opened her eyes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Where am I?" she murmured, seeing strange -faces bent over her, and Mrs. Howell nudged Olive -to speak to her friend.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You're at Mrs. Howell's, Monica; you hurt your -foot, you know. But don't try to talk now. Father -will be here directly." She spoke with a confidence -she was far from feeling, for it was quite possible -that Dr. Franklyn was some distance away.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A spasm of pain passed over Monica's white face. -"Oh, my ankle, how it does hurt!" she said, as she -tried to alter the position of the injured limb, but -could not bear the agony the movement caused.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Bathe it again, Martha," said Mrs. Howell, to -the maid who was standing by. Then she stroked -Monica's rumpled hair, kindly, but somewhat -hesitatingly, while she murmured, "Poor dear."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The motherly woman would have liked to have -said much more, to show this young stranger within -her gates how sorry she was for her; but she had -heard how haughty she was from Lily, and she was -afraid of saying anything for fear of giving offence. -For one thing she was very thankful: and that was -that Lily had gone to some friends at a distance to -spend the half-term holiday, so there was no fear of -her turning up to make a fuss.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Every one breathed a sigh of relief when -Dr. Franklyn was announced.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, father, I </span><em class="italics">am</em><span> glad you were in!" said Olive, -as she caught impetuously at his arm.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I hope you had no hand in this, Olive," he said, -as he began, with professional touch, to examine the -swollen ankle.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, father, no; indeed I didn't; it was no one's -fault, but quite an accident," she assured him, so -earnestly, that he was fain to believe that his careless, -heedless child was not to blame in this instance.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, well," he said, "it might have been much -worse. There are no bones broken, but it is a nasty -sprain; you won't do much walking for a little while, -young lady." And he looked with compassion at the -girl, who he knew was so full of energy.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"How long?" was all Monica's quivering lips -could articulate. Her ankle was suffering so acutely -from the doctor's handling, gentle as it had been, -that it took all her courage to keep the tears back.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, two or three weeks, perhaps," was the reply, -kindly but truthfully given. It was never his way to -tell his patients half-truths, and buoy them up with -hopes that had not a shadow of a chance of being -realised. "It will all depend upon whether you -obey orders or not, how soon it will get better."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At the word "obey," a pang of remorse seized -Monica; how she had failed in obedience, and how -bitterly she was suffering the penalty for a very little -act of disobedience (as she thought) even now. A -sob rose in her throat, but she gulped it down, and -turned her face slightly away.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Now, Olive, my child, if Mrs. Howell will excuse -you, come home with me," said Dr. Franklyn, as, -having done all he could to relieve the sprained -ankle, he prepared to depart. "Mr. Howell has sent -to Mrs. Beauchamp, and your friend will be able to -go home in her grandmother's carriage when it -arrives, and your mother will be anxious about you. -By the way, I can't imagine where Elsa is," he added -as they reached the hall door; and for the first time -Olive remembered the other two girls.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, father, suppose they have been waiting all -this time for us? What a dreadful afternoon this -has been!" And she felt ready to cry.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Cheer up, Olive," said her father kindly, pitying -her unhappiness; "we'll send some one to the white -gate in case they should be there; but I expect they -gave you up long since, and we shall hear that they -went on to Carson Rise as you arranged."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Meanwhile, how had Elsa and Amethyst been faring?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In spite of her reassuring words to Amethyst, -Elsa felt a considerable amount of trepidation as she -and her companion mounted the flight of wide, stone -steps, and rang the bell at the front door of -Mrs. Beauchamp's residence. She was mentally deciding -what it would be best to say, when the door opened, -and the trim parlourmaid appeared. Elsa had half -hoped that Monica would have been on the look-out, -and have opened the door herself, so as to make the -late-comers feel more comfortable. So she was -astounded when the maid replied, in answer to her -diffident enquiry, that the other young ladies had -not arrived yet.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Elsa and Amethyst looked askance at each other, -one thought uppermost in both their minds. "Suppose -they should be waiting for us at the white gate!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My mistress is rather put about to think Miss -Monica should be so late coming back; would you -please to walk in and explain, miss?" suggested the -maid to Elsa, who seemed to be spokeswoman.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, yes, of course, we will tell all we know," -said Elsa, and she and Amethyst silently followed -the maid to the drawing-room, where Mrs. Beauchamp -was sitting by one of the open French windows, -which overlooked part of the prettily laid-out gardens.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, my dear, how are you?" she said, as Elsa -approached, and held out a timid hand; "and is this -your little friend?" And the old lady looked -approvingly at the pretty, childish face and simple -attire of the vicar's little daughter. "But how is it -you have arrived alone? Where are Monica and -your sister?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, Mrs. Beauchamp, we can't think what -they are doing!" And Elsa told the whole story -of what had occurred that afternoon, at least, as -far as the present state of affairs was concerned; -finishing up by saying, "We wouldn't have been -so long, indeed we wouldn't, if we had known how -late it was. I am almost sorry, now, that we went -all the way with the old woman, but we thought -it was right at the time." And Elsa's eyes filled -with tears.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You did quite right, children, no one could -blame you," said Mrs. Beauchamp, more kindly -than Monica ever heard her speak. "I am only -sorry that my granddaughter did not wish to act -as you did." And the old lady sighed as she -thought of the difference between self-pleasing, -self-willed Monica, and this nice-speaking, unselfish girl; -and the advantage was all on Elsa's side. "The -thing to be considered is, where are they now?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Do you think they might still be waiting for us?" -queried Amethyst, who had been a silent spectator -so far. "Shall we go back and see?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Beauchamp smiled. "I think we can manage -better than that," she said. "I will send a messenger -to the gate in West Lane, in case they should be there, -and we will have some tea, for I am sure you must be -thirsty after hurrying so, on this hot day. I quite -expect that before very long they will come rushing in."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The two girls were very glad to wash their hands -and smooth their dishevelled hair; and Amethyst -was delighted to see Monica's room (where Barnes -had taken them) for the first time.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then they went into the dining-room, where a -sumptuous repast had been spread for the quartette, -Mrs. Beauchamp knowing something, from experience, -of young people's appetites. If it had not been for -the suspense about the other girls, Elsa and Amethyst -would have enjoyed themselves immensely.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Beauchamp was so very kind, and made herself -quite agreeable to these two well-behaved girls; -indeed Amethyst, who was light-hearted by nature, -almost forgot the unfortunate ending to their picnic, -but Elsa was unable to banish the thought from -her mind that something must have happened to -them to cause such delay, and she could see that -Mrs. Beauchamp was very much worried, although -she strove to entertain her little guests cheerfully.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You are not making much of a tea, my dear. -Try one of these," and Mrs. Beauchamp held a -plate of delicious looking macaroons toward Elsa.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, thank you, I don't feel as if I could eat -another mouthful." And Elsa's tears, which had -been very near the surface for some time, rained -down her cheeks, while a sob choked her voice.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Don't fret, my dear," said Mrs. Beauchamp, -soothingly, albeit her own voice shook.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am so afraid something has happened," sobbed -Elsa, and she hid her face in her hands.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Let us hope not; they may have been hindered -in some way," replied Mrs. Beauchamp; but even -as she spoke, a maid entered the room with an -expression of alarm on her face.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"If you please, ma'am----" she began.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What is it, Harriet? Tell me at once?" And -Mrs. Beauchamp clutched the back of her chair for -support, while her face assumed an ashen hue, and -poor Elsa felt inclined to scream.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"A man's come from Osmington, from Mr. Howell's -place, ma'am, to say as there's been an accident, ma'am, -and Miss Monica's leg is hurt. It were something to -do with one of these motors, ma'am, but he says he -was told to say it weren't by no means serious."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A tinge of colour came into Mrs. Beauchamp's -cheeks, as the servant reached the end of her -sentence; she had dreaded she knew not what.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Is the man here, Harriet? Have him taken to -the morning-room, and I will see him," she faltered.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh! please may we hear too?" asked Elsa, with -quivering lips.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And the old lady, reading the alarm in the girl's -tense young face, said: "Of course, my dear."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>By dint of much questioning they got some idea -of what had occurred; and, relieved to a certain -extent by having definite news of her grandchild, -Mrs. Beauchamp made speedy arrangements for her -conveyance home.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In a very few minutes the brougham was at the -door, and into it stepped Mrs. Beauchamp and the -two girls, followed by the reliable Barnes, who was -always to be depended upon in an emergency.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Elsa and Amethyst would dearly have liked to -go as far as the Howells', so as to know exactly -how Monica was, but when Mrs. Beauchamp ordered -the coachman to put them down at Dr. Franklyn's, -on his way through the town, they did not dare -to make the suggestion.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="i-like-fussin-over-people"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER X.</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">"I LIKE FUSSIN' OVER PEOPLE!"</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>With a sigh of relief Monica heard the front -door shut, and saw the retreating figures of -the doctor and Olive passing down the drive, from -her post of vantage in the great bay window. She -wanted to think; at least, she was not sure that she -</span><em class="italics">wanted</em><span> to, but ideas suggested themselves to her -brain and insisted upon being thought out.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>How </span><em class="italics">could</em><span> she, who never before had been actually -laid up with any ailment, endure the thought of -being for three weeks, at least, chained like a log -to a sofa? And, just as likely as not, it would end -in being a month, or even more. Oh, it was -unendurable! No school--no fun--no daily meeting -with all the girls, and Olive, of course, in particular: -and Monica realised how wonderfully attached she -had become to school-life and doings, even in -seven short weeks. No pleasant German lessons -with kind little Fräulein Wespe, which she so -much enjoyed. Nothing but day after day in one -or other of the dull, lonely rooms at Carson Rise, -waited on by Barnes, and visited periodically by -her grandmother, who she was sure, from experience, -would gladly seize every available opportunity of -improving the occasion by telling her she had only -herself to thank for the position in which she found -herself!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>How heartily Monica wished now that she had -never seen the wretched bicycle, as she styled it, -much less have been persuaded into attempting to -ride it. In her vexation she blamed the bicycle, -its owner, Elsa and Amethyst for being late, and -even poor, unfortunate old Granny Wood, for being -the primary cause of the mishap. It is a wonder -that she did not go one step farther, and credit -Hero with originating the whole chapter of accidents, -for it certainly was his bark that started the ball -rolling. If Monica had heard any one else </span><em class="italics">saying</em><span> -what she was </span><em class="italics">thinking</em><span>, she would have been -exceedingly amused, for it sounded like a modern -version of the "House that Jack built." But she -saw no fun in anything just then, all was disappointment, -discomfort, and pain; and yet in her heart -of hearts, Monica knew that it all arose from -disobedience.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Not for worlds would she have owned it even -to herself, but as she lay on that couch, looking -out into the sunlit garden and thinking, her better -nature craved after a nobler, higher life, where -disobedience and its results would have no place. -She thought of her father and his words to her -in that almost forgotten letter, and unwonted tears -rose to her eyes, as she realised that instead of -becoming what he wanted her to be, she seemed -lately to have grown less and less like the ideal -she had even set up for herself in those days.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Monica's ruminations were brought to an abrupt -termination at this moment by the door opening, -and a pleasant rattle of teacups sounded on her -ears as the footman appeared with the tea equipage. -Mrs. Howell followed him in, and busied herself -in pouring out a cup of the fragrant beverage, and -placing it on a little table at Monica's elbow, saying -in her uncultured but kindly tones: "There's nothin' -so comfortin' as a cup of tea, to my mind; have a -good drink, do 'ee now, my----"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The good soul paused, in confusion, at the words -which had so nearly slipped out. What would this -haughty young maiden have said if she had called her -"my dear?" So she made a nervous little cough, and -added, in an apologetic voice, "Miss Beauchamp."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Thanks, you're very kind," replied Monica, in -her off-hand way. "I'm sure I'm awfully sorry to -give you such a lot of trouble."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It's no trouble at all, my dear," said her hostess -warmly, quite forgetting to watch her words this time; -but Monica did not appear to mind the appellation, it -seemed natural to be called "my dear" by a person -of Mrs. Howell's description. "I like fussin' over -people." And the good woman looked a wee bit -wistful, for Lily hated above all things to be "fussed -over by ma."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't think I should care about it always," said -Monica candidly, with a little laugh; "but just now -it feels rather nice to be waited on," and she smiled -up into the homely face, surmounted by the magnificent, -but too lavishly trimmed cap, which was -bending over her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Howell's heart went out to this girl, who -seemed so different from what Lily had declared her -to be; and Monica, realising the motherliness which -underlay all the oddities and vulgarities, felt strangely -drawn towards her commonplace hostess. They -were becoming quite at home with each other, when -carriage wheels were heard, and "Mrs. Beauchamp" -was announced.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A hasty glance at the visitor's aristocratic -appearance, and the sound of her well-modulated voice, -made poor Mrs. Howell realise her many deficiencies -once again, and she relapsed into monosyllabic replies -to Mrs. Beauchamp's many enquiries. So Monica -had perforce to be chief spokeswoman.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, I am glad that it is no worse than it is," said -her grandmother stiffly. "The anxiety your -non-appearance caused me was intense; and all this -trouble and inconvenience to everybody would have -been avoided, if you had not disobeyed my commands." And -she shook her head severely at the culprit, -who showed no sign of contrition for her misdeeds. -"Well, you will have plenty of time to reflect, so we -will say no more now," added the old lady, "but -with Mrs. Howell's permission Barnes shall help -you out to the carriage, and we will not trespass -further on her kindness."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, I can hobble out by myself, somehow," -said Monica, and she tried to get up off the couch, -but fell back among the cushions with a stifled -groan.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Let me help you, my dear," whispered Mrs. Howell, -so low that no one but Monica heard her, -and with a supreme effort the girl managed just -to stand, by holding tight to the velvet-covered arm -which was offered for her to lean on. But to walk -was absolutely impossible, the mere movement of -the injured ankle (the pain had been tolerably -easy while it had been laid up) was so excruciating, -that even strong-willed Monica could not summon -up courage to put it to the ground.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'm afraid I can't walk," she was obliged to -confess, with white, quivering lips, just as Mr. Howell -appeared upon the scene.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"How now, young lady?" he said, in his bluff -way; "not trying to walk, surely? You don't look -any too fit."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Couldn't me an' you help her out to the carriage, -Bob?" his wife said, in a somewhat loud aside. -"Her grandma wants to be off."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"If the young lady will allow me, I think the -best plan will be for me to pick her up and carry -her out," he said, with a grandiloquent bow.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Really, I cannot----" began Mrs. Beauchamp, -in horrified tones.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And Monica said: "Oh! no, please."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But without more ado, the big burly man lifted -her gently in his strong arms, saying, with a twinkle -of amusement in his eyes: "It won't be the first -time to-day, missy," and before Mrs. Beauchamp -had had time to summon Barnes, Monica was -comfortably settled in the brougham, with her injured -ankle resting on a board, and some cushions, which -Barnes' forethought had provided.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Thank you ever so much, Mr. Howell," said -Monica gratefully, "and Mrs. Howell too."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Tut, tut, missy! T'was a pleasure to her to have -some one to coddle."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I should like to come and see her some day, -when my ankle is well again, if I may."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"She'd be very glad if you would," was Mr. Howell's -reply, as he handed Mrs. Beauchamp into the -carriage, and shut the door after Barnes had squeezed -herself into the tiny bit of space that was left.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am sure we are very much indebted to you -for all your kindness," said Mrs. Beauchamp, in her -freezingly polite way, as he stood, hat in hand, -waiting to see the carriage off.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Pray don't mention it, madam," was all he said, -as he bowed in response to her formal "good -evening"; the smile that overspread his rugged, -good-tempered face was for the girl who nodded -a bright farewell, albeit her face was white and -drawn with pain.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"A noble lass, that," was Mr. Howell's comment, -as he sauntered round the beautifully laid-out garden -with his worthy spouse; "but a vixen of a grandmother, -to judge from looks."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Howell, who had not been very prepossessed -herself, felt it her duty to remonstrate with him for -judging hastily.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The gentry always has such airs," she said; "I -daresay the old lady means well enough. But I -must say I did take to the girl."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And she to you, apparently." And her husband -repeated what Monica had said about coming again.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Bless her!" ejaculated warm-hearted Mrs. Howell; -and then she added wistfully, "I wish, Bob----"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What, old girl?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That our Lily was a bit more like her."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Tut, tut!" he said. "This Miss Beauchamp is -a lady, born and bred; and our girl ain't got a drop -of blue blood in her veins."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Our Lily don't seem to have got no heart, -somehow," sighed her mother. "She's all for -clothes, an' pleasure, an' pleasin' herself."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It's the brass that's to blame for that," said the -man who had amassed a fortune of over a quarter -of a million. "I'm almost sorry I had such a streak -of luck. We were happier in the old days, Caroline, -when we lived in the little house at Bermondsey, -and went out marketing together Saturday nights, -guess the old proverb that 'money's the root -of all evil' is about right. It's all very well, but it -don't buy happiness."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That ain't a proverb, Bob," said his wife, reprovingly, -"it's in the Bible, and it says it's the love -of money that makes all the mischief. I sometimes -think, Bob," she added, a trifle hesitatingly, for she -was treading on tender ground, "that if we were -a bit religious, we should be happier like."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Time enough for religion when you get notice -to quit," he replied with a hard laugh, which had -no mirth in it. "'Do as you would be done by' -is a good enough creed for me; and if everybody -acted up to it the world would be a better place -than it is, with all its parsons and church-going."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That ain't enough to take you to heaven, Bob," -said Mrs. Howell, sadly, but as she knew no better way -to suggest she said no more, and the subject dropped. -But in the plain, homely woman's breast there was -a deep, unsatisfied longing after a peace which she -had never found, amid all the luxuries and splendour -of her surroundings.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>While the above conversation was taking place, -and Monica was being driven slowly home, the story -of that disastrous day was being eagerly detailed by -the other three girls at the Franklyns', whither -Amethyst had accompanied Elsa, and where to her -great delight she found her mother sitting with -Mrs. Franklyn.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Fortunately for the invalid, no rumour of the -accident had reached her room, Mr. Howell's -messenger having met the doctor after he had left -home a few minutes; so that she and Mrs. Drury -had been enjoying a little confidential chat about -their children over a cup of tea; never dreaming -but that they were all having a splendid time at -Carson Rise, until Olive, who was followed by -the other two girls before there had been time to -become anxious about them, told how differently -they had been placed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Olive and Amethyst both talked together, and -there was such a confused jargon going on, that -for some time neither of the ladies could get a -very clear idea of what had happened; but eventually -Elsa was appealed to for her version of the -affair, and then they understood better.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Dear me, I am sorry for Monica," said Mrs. Drury -sympathetically; "it will be a long business, -I am afraid."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Poor child!" murmured the invalid; "how will -she bear it?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It's awfully hard lines on her," cried Olive -vehemently, "shut up in that great, dull house for -weeks. And I shall miss her just dreadfully."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'm glad it isn't me," said Amethyst; "not that -I should mind being laid up if mumsie nursed me," -with an affectionate press of her mother's hand, -at whose feet she had thrown herself. "But you -get so low in class if you are away from school long."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There are lessons to be learnt on a sofa, my -child, that are more important than all the school -ones," said the invalid gently; "and by learning -them properly a higher place can be gained than -any that the High School can bestow."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't think I understand, Mrs. Franklyn," said -Amethyst, in a puzzled tone, while Elsa crept nearer -to her mother, and kissed her thin, white hand, a -little comprehensive smile flickering about her -mouth. Olive looked on, a trifle superciliously; if -it had not been for Mrs. Drury's presence, she -would have said: "For goodness' sake, don't preach, -mamma!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I mean the lessons in God's school, dearie, the -difficult things we are so slow to learn. It is only -when 'He teaches us of His ways' that we can -'walk in His paths.' I was thinking perhaps God -had allowed this accident to happen to Monica, -so that she might have time to think of these -things."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Monica is good enough as she is," cried Olive -tempestuously; "we don't all want to be goody-goodies -like some people I know. There would -never be a bit of fun left then." And she stood -up defiantly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>With a significant glance at Mrs. Franklyn, whose -pale face wore a grieved, sad expression, Mrs. Drury -took the matter into her own hands.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am sorry, Olive, that you should feel like -that," she said calmly, while she looked searchingly -into the defiant face of the young girl, who was -picking a tea-rose to pieces with thoughtless -fingers. "But it is a good thing, sometimes, to say -what one feels. You must have been unfortunate -in your acquaintance with Christians if you find -them dull and gloomy. They are not all so, I can -assure you. Indeed there is no one so light-hearted, -no life so sunshiny, as that of a true follower of the -Lord Jesus Christ. It is just because we are so -happy with Him as our Friend, as well as Teacher, -that we want all those whom we know, and love, -to become learners in His school. For we remember -that the Examination Day is coming, and unless -we have Him as our helper, we shall certainly 'fail,' -instead of 'pass.' You know yourself from school -experience that there are only the two positions -to be in; and it rests with each one of us to decide, -now, which state shall be ours hereafter."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As Mrs. Drury ended her sentence, she lowered -her voice, until it was scarcely more than a whisper, -but the silence which had fallen upon the little -group was so intense that every word was distinctly -audible. Amethyst looked up into her mother's -face, and said, with real earnestness: "I do want to -pass </span><em class="italics">that</em><span> examination, mumsie," and Mrs. Drury -bent down and kissed the upturned face with clinging -tenderness, for she knew that her little daughter's -real desire was to please her Saviour, although she -very often failed to do so.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But just at that moment her heart went out -with a great longing towards that other mother's -girl, who seemed so unwilling to put first things -</span><em class="italics">first</em><span>. Her eyes sought Olive's, so that she might, -if possible, read in them something of her thoughts, -but Olive kept her head persistently turned away, -and so she could not gauge what was passing in -her mind.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>So, with a prayer in her heart (oft repeated as -time passed) that God would show Olive her need -of a Saviour, she bade the invalid a tender farewell, -with a whispered word of hope, and after good-byes -had been exchanged, Mrs. Drury and Amethyst -took their departure.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The little girl chattered volubly of all the incidents -of the afternoon, as they walked home in the -pleasant coolness which had succeeded the heat of -that June day, but Mrs. Drury was a trifle abstracted. -She was thinking of the friend she had left, who -appeared to her to be losing, rather than gaining -strength, of the sorrow that the indecision of some -of her children, with regard to spiritual things, -caused the patient invalid. For a moment, a subtle -temptation presented itself: why did not a gracious -Father answer His children's prayers for their loved -ones more speedily. But she thrust the thought from -her, knowing well that God both could, and would, -do all things well, in His own good time.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Father will be astonished when we tell him, -won't he?" piped Amethyst, in her childish treble, -and Mrs. Drury's eyes lost their far-away look as -she smiled into the animated little face, which only -reached to her shoulder.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, very," she replied, "but you won't see him -to-night, dearie, for he has gone to a big meeting at -Alwinton and he will not be home until quite late."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh!" Amethyst's face fell somewhat; she rather -liked telling her own news, and the events of that -day had been quite exciting ones to her. "Well, -you will have to tell him then, mumsie, I suppose. -But couldn't you only say just enough, and leave the -rest for me to tell at breakfast?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And her mother promised she would.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="a-nice-enough-little-dog-as-dogs-go"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XI.</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">"A NICE ENOUGH LITTLE DOG, AS DOGS GO."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"Is there anything else you're wanting, Miss Monica?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And Mary Ann, who had been for the last half-hour -engaged in arranging everything for the comfort -and convenience of her young mistress, paused as she -reached the door of the apartment, half-schoolroom, -half-boudoir, which Monica called her "prison-house," -and looked towards the occupant of a low couch that -had been drawn up to the open window.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, yes, you might put those books where I can -reach them," and Monica indicated a pile of library -books which were lying on a low bookcase in a -corner of the room. The maid obeyed, and placed -them on a table by Monica's side, on which she -kept the various things with which she vainly -endeavoured to while away the tedium of the long, -long days.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Are you sure there's nothing else, miss?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't think there is, thanks." And the housemaid -was just departing, when she was recalled by -the sound of her name.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, Mary Ann!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, miss?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Which is your evening out?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Fridays, Miss Monica," said the girl, astonishment -expressed in both face and voice. Whatever could -be coming to their young lady? Never before had -she taken the slightest interest in the outings of her -grandmother's domestics!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Let me see, to-day is Friday," mused Monica, -"could you do an errand for me while you are out -this evening, Mary Ann?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, miss, it all depends," replied the -under-housemaid, cautiously. "Where would it be, miss?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, it's only to take back these books and get -me some fresh ones from Bell's Library," said -Monica. "Are you fond of reading, Mary Ann?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"La, yes, miss," admitted the girl with a giggle. -"Cook says I get right down wropt up in my book, -and they have to shake me sometimes, when I'm -sittin' readin' in the kitchen of a evening, for I never -'ears no one a-speakin' when I'm deep in my story."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, I daresay I could lend you a book, now and -again," said Monica graciously. "And you think -you could go to Bell's this evening?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why, yes, Miss Monica, I'll go with pleasure," -said the girl, delighted at the prospect of the loan -of some books. "Me and Jim (that's my young man, -miss," she explained with a simper and a blush) -"we generally strolls down High Street, and I can -easy pop in and get 'em."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, here is a list of half a dozen," said Monica, -handing her a paper. "Ask them to give you any -three that are in, and tell them who they're for."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Very good, Miss Monica," and Mary Ann finally -departed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Left to herself, Monica began to wonder how -she should pass the weary hours of that hot -June day.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I wish Olive hadn't been yesterday, now," she -mused; "because there is not the faintest chance of -her coming over again to-day; she said she would -come to-morrow if she could. Oh, dear! I do think -some of the girls might come. I'd rather have Elsa, -or even that little Amethyst Drury, than nothing -but my own company all day long. I do wish I -could have a dog, it would not be so sickeningly -dull then." And she heaved a weary sigh of -discontent. "What a nuisance this horrid sprain is! -You simply can't do anything but read, when you -can't move your leg, and I hate needlework. I'm -glad I thought of getting Mary Ann to go for some -fresh books. Heigho! I wish I hadn't hurried so -over the last one yesterday, I should have had some -left to read now, but it was so fascinating I couldn't -leave off once I began."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At that moment a footfall was heard on the richly -carpeted stairway, and Mrs. Beauchamp opened the -door. Monica looked up in astonishment; it was -quite an hour earlier than her grandmother usually -paid her morning visit.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Good morning, Monica," she said, as she bent -and just touched the girl's forehead with cold, -undemonstrative lips, "I hope your ankle is going -on well."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, I suppose it is, but I wish it had never -been ill," replied Monica with grim humour. "I'm -sick of lying here."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You have only yourself to blame," was the -old lady's unconsoling reply; "if you had not been -disobedient, all this would have been avoided." And -she waved her slender white hand expressively -towards Monica's injured limb.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>With a pout, Monica looked out of the window, -muttering something about "the same old tale."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Her grandmother, who was slightly deaf, did -not catch the words, but she saw the gesture, and -drew her own conclusions. With a sigh, -Mrs. Beauchamp wished, for the hundredth time, that -she had never undertaken the charge of this -troublesome granddaughter; her coming into the prim -household had made an end of all its restful quiet, -and she never seemed free from anxiety about her. -And yet--Conrad had intreated her so earnestly -to have his only and much-loved child, and at -the time she had seemed tractable enough. But -oh! how greatly Monica had altered in eighteen -short months; perhaps she had had mistaken ideas -about her upbringing; perhaps, if she had been a -little less strict in minor matters, things might have -gone more smoothly; perhaps old Dr. Marley was -right when he said: "It is easier to lead than to -drive young people."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>With these thoughts in her mind, the old lady -made a proposition that nearly took Monica's breath -away; so unexpected was it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I have been thinking that perhaps you might -have a small dog of some kind, Monica; it would -be company for you while you are laid up."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, grandmother!" was all the girl could find -to say; but the look of intense pleasure which -irradiated her whole face, entirely transforming it, -was sufficient reward to Mrs. Beauchamp for the -very real concession she was making; for, of all -things, a mischievous, gambolling dog </span><em class="italics">indoors</em><span>, who -would be sure to bark or whine just when she -was having a little nap, was one that she objected -to most.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Of course, it must be a very nice quiet one, -Monica, small and well-trained. Perhaps Richards -might hear of one somewhere."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh! grandmother, do you remember that day you -decided I was to go to school?" Monica questioned, -eagerly; "because Tom had just been telling me -about a jolly little wire-haired terrier his father -wanted a home for, when you sent for me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I do remember something of the sort, Monica," -said the old lady, "but even if the dog were still -to be had, it might not be just what we want."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, I do wish you would send round to the -stables and ask, grandmother," said Monica, coaxingly -"because we could have him at once, I expect. We -might have to wait ever so long before Richards -came across one, he is so dreadfully slow. And it -</span><em class="italics">is</em><span> so dull up here, all alone."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, I will see what can be done."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And the old lady departed, a comfortable feeling -of having given pleasure warming her cold, reserved -heart; while Monica reiterated again and again, in -words which jarred terribly on her aristocratic nerves: -"It's most awfully kind of you, grandmother! It </span><em class="italics">will</em><span> -be jolly to have a dog of my own."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>To say that Monica waited patiently for results -would be untrue. She was far too excited and eager -about the matter to do that; but as she was alone, -except for a flying visit from Barnes, who brought -her some lunch, and as she could not move her leg, -her impatience had a salutary amount of check. -She could not think how it was her grandmother -had ever brought her mind to think of such a thing, -knowing well how keenly she objected to animals -indoors; it puzzled her a good deal, especially after -her disobedience earlier in the week. And Monica -grew quite repentant for her misdeeds, as she -considered the unexpected favour she was being granted.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>An hour or so later a peculiar scratching noise -along the corridor outside made Monica listen -intently, and a second after there came a hesitating -knock at the door.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Come in," cried Monica, who was all excitement; -and the door opened to admit Tom, the little stable-boy, -who was leading the cutest looking wire-haired -terrier imaginable, and was closely followed -by Barnes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, you darling!" cried Monica, who was -infatuated with the dog at first sight; "do bring -him close, Tom."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, miss," said Tom, with alacrity, pulling his -forelock, and grinning all over his bright little face, -as he clutched hold of the bit of strap that did duty -for a collar, and dragged the terrier up to Monica's -couch. "I hope you're better, miss," he ventured -to say shyly, for Barnes, of whom he stood greatly -in awe, was looking severely at him, and he had -been bidden "to mind his behaviour."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, yes," said Monica, carelessly; she had no -thoughts to spare on herself just then. "What's -his name, Tom? Do put him up beside me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Be careful, now," said Barnes, a trifle sharply; -she was not best pleased at this introduction -into the household. "Remember your leg, Miss -Monica."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"All right, Barnes, don't fidget! See, he's as -quiet as possible. Good boy, dear old fellow!" and -Monica stroked the ginger coloured head, and -looked into the liquid brown eyes which had a -wistful expression in them. He pricked up his -ears at the tones of endearment, and licked her -hands in response.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"'E 'ave took to you, an' no mistake, miss," said -Tom, with huge delight. "Jack 'e 'ave been called, -miss," he added, in answer to Monica's query, "but -you'll find 'im a grander name, miss, now."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, I think Jack will do very well," said Monica, -and the little dog, who knew by her fondling that -he was being loved and made much of, gave a little -grunt of satisfaction, and curled himself round on -the couch beside his new mistress.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Isn't he sweet, Barnes?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, he's a nice enough little dog, as dogs go, -Miss Monica, but I have no particular fancy for -them," was the maid's somewhat grudging reply. -And then she added: "Now then, my boy, you'd -better be off to your work again."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes'm. Good mornin', miss," stammered Tom, -in confusion, for Barnes' repelling tones made him -feel as if he had done something wrong.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, good-bye, Tom. I'm awfully glad to have -Jack," said Monica, with a bright smile, which made -the little lad feel at ease again, and remained in -his memory for many a day. "I shall be coming -out on the lawn in a few days' time, and then you -must come round and see him."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The little newcomer proved an endless source -of pleasure and amusement to Monica; he had such -quaint ways, and made himself thoroughly happy -and contented in his new home. Even Mrs. Beauchamp -was obliged to confess that he was no -trouble; he spent hours curled up on the rug which -was thrown over Monica's knees, as if he had been -accustomed to an invalid mistress all his life.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You wait until this tiresome sprain is well," -Monica would often say to him, "and then you -shall have a very different existence, Jack."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The old doctor made great friends with him when -he came to see his patient the next morning, and -went off chuckling with pleasure over the result -of his plain-speaking to Mrs. Beauchamp, a few -days before.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"She'll get on fast enough now," he said to himself, -as he trotted down the drive; "young folk want -young things about them, and up there," with a -suggestive glance backward at the stately residence -he had just left, "they are all as old as Methuselah. -She looked a totally different being this morning, -from the sulky, discontented girl I saw last time. -But I don't deny she's a handful--takes after her -mother, I suppose. Conrad was as nice a fellow as -ever breathed, but I never had much of a fancy for -his wife, poor thing; she was too much of a woman -of the world for old Henry Marley. But there, he -isn't, by any means, all he ought to be." And the -dear old doctor sighed as he realised how far short -he was of being a true copy of the Great Example.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The doctor had not long left, when a footman -called at Carson Rise, with a basket containing some -magnificent peaches and hot-house flowers, "with -Mrs. Howell's compliments, and she would be glad -to know how the young lady was."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Beauchamp was out for a drive, so the -parlourmaid came up to Monica for a message.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, Harriet, how lovely!" cried the girl; "do -take them out carefully while I write a little note -to send back. How very kind of Mrs. Howell."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The same lady has sent every day to enquire -for you, miss," said the maid, who was very much -impressed by the grandeur of the Howell livery, -and the importance of the individual who wore it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Has she really? No one has mentioned it -before," said Monica; "I ought to have been told." And -there was a suggestion of displeasure in her tones.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Mrs. Beauchamp knew, miss, of course, and so -did Barnes," Harriet hastened to say, in defence -of herself.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Very well, Harriet, it was not your fault," said -Monica, and she busied herself in writing a little -girlish note of thanks, which brought tears of pleasure -and gratification to the eyes of the good-natured, -motherly woman who received it, and then slipped -it into her pocket for fear her tyrannical young -daughter should come across it, and make fun of it. -For Lily Howell had not yet grown reconciled to -the idea of "</span><em class="italics">that</em><span> Monica Beauchamp" getting into -her home, and prying into everything, and then -going off to make fun of all the mistakes she knew -her mother must have made.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There had been a great scene upon her return -home, on the Monday evening, and she had exclaimed -long and loudly against the fate which had -allowed such an unfortunate thing to come to pass.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Howell, instead of severely reprimanding her -daughter for being so insulting and rude, had wept -feebly, and bowed beneath the angry girl's storm of -words; but in her heart she treasured the remembrance -of the kind words and very real gratitude of -a daughter of the aristocracy to a poor, common-place -woman, such as she was allowed no opportunity -of forgetting that she, Caroline Howell, was.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="a-hungry-feeling-in-my-brain"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XII.</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">"A HUNGRY FEELING IN MY BRAIN."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"What do you think of this?" said Monica, -that same Saturday afternoon, as she -pointed to Jack, who was lying curled up on her rug.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And Olive was astounded, as her friend knew she -would be, at such an unexpected sight.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh! isn't he a dear fellow?" she cried, rapturously, -patting his head, and playing with his well-shaped -ears, as Jack first sniffed enquiringly at the boots and -dress of his young mistress's friend, and then, with a -wag of his stumpy bit of tail, sat down on the floor -at her feet, and rested his head against her knees. -"He is going to like me at once."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Of course, he is," said Monica; "it will be Jack's -business to like all my friends and hate all my -enemies."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, Monica, I don't think you've got any enemies!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Haven't I?" enquired Monica quizzically; "what -about Lily Howell?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, I forgot her," replied the other merrily; -"and yet I ought not to have, for she's been in such -a temper all the week. She's tried every way she -can to get Elsa and me into trouble, and when she -finds she can't manage it, she's in a worse tantrum -than ever. I can't think why she's in such a mood," -continued Olive, meditatively, "unless it is----"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, I expect she's huffy because Mr. Howell -took me into his house," interrupted Monica, "and -she wasn't at home to see all that went on. But I -don't care a straw for her, or what she thinks; she's -too common and vulgar to think about. Now her -mother is the dearest old creature," she went on, in -quite a different tone; "she was as kind and nice as -possible. And Harriet tells me she's sent every day -to ask how I am, and it was she who sent those -lovely peaches and flowers. Do have a peach, Olive; -they're awfully nice."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And Monica, taking one herself, pushed the plate -containing them nearer to her friend.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"How nice of her!" said Olive, taking a bite of -the luscious fruit, while Jack looked up to ascertain -whether she was eating anything that he could -share. "No, you won't like this, old boy," she said, -with a merry laugh.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He can beg beautifully," said Monica. "When -we've eaten these, I'll put him through all his tricks."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A merry quarter of an hour passed in watching -Jack beg, and "trust for it," and "die," and "give -three cheers for the king." Then, when he was tired, -and lay curled up asleep on Monica's couch again, -the two girls had a thorough good chat about -everything dear to their school-girl hearts, until a -clock striking the hour of four warned Olive that -she must be going.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Monica begged her to stay to tea with her, saying: -"Grandmother quite expects you to."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But, much as Olive would have liked it, she was -obliged to refuse, as she had promised her mother -to meet Kathleen and the children at a quarter -past, at a certain place, so as to walk home together.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, there's heaps more I wanted to ask," said -Monica. "I never dreamt but that you would stay -to tea. What did Fräulein say to my being away -yesterday? There will be no chance now of my -coming out top in German, and that's the only -thing I had a shadow of a chance about." And -Monica looked rueful.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, she was very sorry about your ankle. She -had heard from the other mistresses, I expect, for -when I tried to explain she said: 'No, yes, but that -is ver' sad!' in her broken English. You know -how she says it; I can't imitate her properly," said -Olive. "But, I say, Monica, you won't be away long, -will you? Surely not three weeks?" And Olive's -bright face assumed a dismal expression at the -thought of being so long without her friend.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Dr. Marley said this morning it might be better -before then, but not fit for school. It is a bore; I -wish that old bicycle was further." And the girl -groaned.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"So do I," acquiesced Olive sympathetically; -neither of them apparently taking into consideration -that the bicycle was quite the least guilty of -everything and everybody concerned.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, I must go now, but I'll come over as often -as I can next week."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Not to-morrow?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why, that's Sunday!" said Olive, in astonishment.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What of that?" queried Monica.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why, there's no time on Sundays: we go to -church twice, and to Miss Grant's class in the -afternoon. Besides, mother doesn't let us go for walks -on Sundays."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What a funny idea! I never go, because there's -nothing to go for; but I don't think grandmother -would mind. She dozes all the afternoon, and I read. -Oh, that reminds me: here is the book I promised -to lend you, Olive," and she drew it from under -her cushions.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"'</span><em class="italics">A Cruel Fate</em><span>';" Olive read the title aloud, and -glanced at the closely printed pages. "It doesn't -look </span><em class="italics">very</em><span> interesting, Monica."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, it is, awfully. You can't think how it -fascinated me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'm sure mother would not think it was a nice -book," she said doubtfully.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, fiddlesticks!" was Monica's rather rude -reply. "You take it home and read it on the quiet, -and if you don't want to borrow some more next -time you come, I shall be very much mistaken. -Your mother can't expect to keep you tied to her -apron-strings always." And there was again that -suggestion of a sneer underlying the words which -Olive could not stand.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A girl with higher principles would have said: -"No, thank you, Monica; I would rather not have -anything to do with it." And if Olive Franklyn -had had the courage to refuse the evil that afternoon, -she would have saved herself much sorrow. But -she weakly gave in, and slipped the book into her -string-bag, well knowing that she was flatly -disobeying her mother's commands.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Poor Olive! She carried more away with her from -Carson Rise than the novel; already the poison was -beginning its deadly work. How could she manage -so that not even Elsa should know she had it in her -possession? She was very differently situated from -Monica: in their large family they had no secret -drawers or private hiding-places, everything was -common property, and she could depend on nowhere -being absolutely safe.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She was so deep in thought about it, that she -almost ran into Kathleen and the children before she -knew they were approaching her, and she was so -preoccupied during the walk home that Kathleen -teased her about having left her tongue at Carson -Rise. She pulled herself together then, but alas! the -same complaint became an habitual one, as time -went on and Olive Franklyn, careless, light-hearted, -and fun-loving, but hitherto always open and frank, -became moody, abstracted, peevish, and discontented.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>That first book was but the forerunner of many -more; she became absolutely possessed by an -insatiable thirst for novel-reading. Indeed, the girl -became so engrossed in them that ordinary, everyday -life had no attraction for her, the distorted views of -life which the novels gave her totally unfitting her -for both school and home associations.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Lois and Kathleen noticed the change in their -young sister and puzzled over it, but their mother -put it down to Monica being laid up.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"See how anxious she is to go over to see her -friend as often as possible," said Mrs. Franklyn; "it -is evident that they are very fond of one another, and -she misses her companionship. It will be all right -when Monica gets back to school; Olive will be her -usual happy, contented self again then."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And as they had no inkling of the land of -unrealities in which the girl was living, her sisters -accepted the mother's verdict, and good-naturedly -made it possible for Olive to go over to Carson Rise -quite frequently, little dreaming that, each time she -went, fresh fuel was added to the flame.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Monica, who, at first, had smiled with satisfaction -when she found her prediction come true, began to -be a little alarmed as time went on and Olive kept -continually asking for a fresh book. She was rather -a slow reader herself, but Olive seemed literally to -devour them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"How </span><em class="italics">do</em><span> you manage to find time to read such a -lot?" she said incredulously one Monday afternoon, -when they were sitting in a rustic summer-house, in -a shady corner of the sheltered garden, and Olive -had admitted that she had already finished a -three-volume novel that she had taken home only the -Saturday before. "I can't think how you do it!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I can't leave off," said Olive. "As it happens, -Elsa is grinding hard for her music exam., so she -spends hours in the drawing-room practising, and -that leaves me the 'den' pretty much to myself. -But if she weren't, I should just </span><em class="italics">have</em><span> to make -opportunities somehow, for I am perfectly wretched -when I can't have a read."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But I thought your people objected to novel-reading. -Do none of them ever catch you at it? and -how do you manage to do your home-work?" said -Monica, still incredulous.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, they haven't yet; but I live in dread of -discovery every day," confessed her friend. "As to -lessons, I manage to scrape along somehow."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, I'm almost sorry I ever lent you a book," -said Monica, who could detect a subtle difference in -Olive, and felt uneasy.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, Monica, how often and often I've wished -that I'd never borrowed that first one!" said the poor -infatuated girl; "and, sometimes, I think I'll never -touch a novel again. But I always have to; I can't -seem to live without reading them now. There's a -hungry feeling in my brain. I can't explain what I -mean, but it feels quite empty, somehow, until I have -a good read, and then I feel better. Don't you -ever get sensations like that?" and the poor child -looked pitifully at her companion.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, I can't say I do," admitted Monica; "and -I hope I never shall. I like reading, certainly, and -there is more excitement in a regular novel than -there is in ordinary little goody-goody books. But -I'm not so keen on them as I was; they're rather -horrid sometimes. But I think you'd better give -them up, Olive."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, I can't, Monica!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, I really don't think I shall lend you any more."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But Olive pleaded so pitifully for just one, that -Monica reluctantly gave in, saying: "That's the only -one I've got that you haven't had, so you must -make the most of it. I'm not sure that I'm going -to have any more."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, Monica, </span><em class="italics">do</em><span>, to please me!" pleaded Olive. -"I'm not at all sure. By the way, did, you bring -back those you've finished, because they must go -to the library."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, I couldn't; they would have made rather -a large parcel, and I had no way of hiding it, -especially as Elsa and Paddy came half-way with me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, take good care no one spies them," cautioned -Monica. "I don't want to have the credit of leading -you astray."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And Olive promised to be careful, as indeed she -always was. As a matter of fact, not the least of -the sins to be laid at the door of her novel-reading -on the sly was the deceit she had to practise in -order to hide the books.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Three weeks had already sped since the half-term -holiday, and still Monica could scarcely bear -to stand on her ankle, so severe had been the -sprain. There was little likelihood of her being -back at school for quite another week or ten days; -indeed, Mrs. Beauchamp had hinted that it seemed -hardly worth while for her to go again that term, at -all. But the kindly old doctor, seeing that Monica's -heart was set upon it, had said: "Oh, yes, it will -do her good to rub up against the other girls for -a week or two. The holidays will be quite long -enough, seven weeks or more." And so it was -settled that, as soon as the ankle was really to be -depended upon, Monica should go back to finish -out the term.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She was thinking of it a few days later, as she -kept her grandmother company in the drawing-room -after tea. The old lady had seemed much less -stiff lately, and Monica had begun to think that -she might grow fond of her in time. She was so -kind, too, about Jack, who was allowed to be -wherever his mistress was, even in the drawing-room; -certainly he was a particularly good dog. -He was lying on the hearth-rug now, fast asleep, -while Mrs. Beauchamp was knitting some fleecy -wool into a wrap; and Monica, who was no longer -compelled to keep her leg up, so long as she -did not walk on it much, was lazily, and by no -means elegantly, lounging in the depths of an easy -chair.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Suddenly Jack pricked up his ears, and gave a -short, sharp little bark, there was the sound of the -front door opening and shutting, and the next -minute "Miss Franklyn" was announced.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Beauchamp greeted the visitor cordially. -She had met Lois once before and had been -prepossessed by the gentle tones and ladylike bearing -of the doctor's eldest daughter.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Monica jumped up hastily, with a pleased -exclamation, but she soon saw that something was -wrong. There was a stern expression about Lois' -lips which was not habitual to her, and she had -brought a parcel, which Monica could see only too -well contained books.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She scarcely responded to Monica's, "How do -you do, Miss Franklyn?" but turned to Mrs. Beauchamp -and began to explain her errand without delay.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am very sorry to have to draw your attention -to these books, Mrs. Beauchamp," she said, laying -a three-volume novel and another library book on -an octagonal table beside her. "It seems that for -some weeks--all the time your granddaughter has -been laid up, at any rate--she has been lending Olive -books of this description. I do not know whether -Monica has your permission to read them, but it -has been one of my dear mother's strictest rules -that none of us should read any novel, except -standard works, until we had left school; then we -might do so if we wished. As it happens, neither -my sister Kathleen, nor myself, has the slightest -inclination for literature of </span><em class="italics">that</em><span> kind," and here -Lois glanced contemptuously at the books, "but -Olive seems to have been thoroughly infatuated with -them. We have all noticed a great change in her -lately, but could not account for it, until, by mere -accident this afternoon, three of these books were -found by one of the children, carefully hidden in -an old doll's house which is rarely used. Seeing that -it was useless to deny it, Olive has confessed to -my mother the unhappy deceit that she has been -practising, and produced the remaining book from -her bedroom. She says she has been most miserable -all the time, but was evidently frightfully fascinated, -or she could never have been so wicked as to deceive -our mother, who is very grieved and upset about -it all. However, Olive has at length promised -solemnly not to read any more of this kind of book, -and I believe she will keep her word, unless she -is tempted. That is why I have come to ask you -to forbid Monica lending any more to Olive, if she -is allowed to read them herself."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Lois paused, and Mrs. Beauchamp, after a glance -at the title-pages of the books, looked severely at -Monica, who had sat perfectly still, with her eyes -fixed on Lois, during the recital of Olive's wrong-doing.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"How came you to get books of this description -from the library, Monica?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You never forbade me to, grandmother," murmured -the girl, more to gain time than anything else, -for she had resolved to make a clean breast of it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"More I did," admitted Mrs. Beauchamp ruefully. -"I am afraid I never realised that you would choose -this style of literature; I have thought of you as -a mere child, still. Oh, dear me, what a terrible -responsibility girls are!" And the old lady sighed -feebly, and looked at Lois for assistance.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Perhaps Monica will ask your advice in future," -was all Lois could say, for she felt she was in a -somewhat difficult position. "At any rate, for my -mother's sake, I am sure she will promise not to -help Olive to disobey her again."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The kind tone was too much for Monica, and -she said impulsively: "Oh, Miss Franklyn, I am -so awfully sorry! Olive never would have read one -if I hadn't persuaded her to; she knew she ought -not. I would give anything, now, not to have lent -them to her. Indeed, last time she was here I -told her so, and said I was half-inclined not to read -any more myself."</span></p> -<div class="align-center auto-scaled figure margin" style="width: 61%" id="figure-48"> -<span id="oh-miss-franklyn-i-am-so-awfully-sorry"></span><img class="align-center block" style="display: block; width: 100%" alt=""'OH, MISS FRANKLYN, I AM SO AWFULLY SORRY!'"" src="images/img-167.jpg" /> -<div class="caption centerleft figure-caption margin"> -<span class="italics">"'OH, MISS FRANKLYN, I AM SO AWFULLY SORRY!'"</span></div> -</div> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't know what Mrs. Beauchamp's opinion -may be," said Lois, to whose face Monica's honest -avowal had brought a pleased expression, "but if -you took </span><em class="italics">my</em><span> advice, Monica, you would make up -your mind to be </span><em class="italics">quite</em><span> inclined to let them severely -alone, for the next few years, at all events."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I will," Monica replied, without hesitation; the -reality in her tones betokening steadfastness of -purpose.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am very glad," said Lois, and there was distinct -approval in the expressive glance her grey eyes -flashed on Monica, as she rose. "I will tell Olive -of your resolve, and it will help her to be true to -her promise."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Beauchamp, looking alternately from one -to the other, as the conversation seemed to be -carried on without her help, suddenly realised that -the question was settled, and she had no battle to -fight with Monica. She could not help thinking -how differently she would have gone to work, and -how unsuccessful she would, in all probability, have -been.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am sure, Miss Franklyn, I hope that your -mother will accept my apologies for all this trouble. -There seems no end to the anxiety my granddaughter -causes every one!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It </span><em class="italics">was</em><span> an anxiety to her, I must confess," said -Lois, "but now that Olive has told her everything, -she feels easier about it. She has such an -abhorrence of anything approaching deceit."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Of course," murmured Mrs. Beauchamp.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Can Olive come to tea to-morrow, grandmother?" -Monica's face was pleading.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I really don't know, I'm sure. I hardly think -you deserve----" began the old lady hesitatingly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"May I interrupt?" said Lois, quickly. "I was -to tell you that my mother felt that the most suitable -punishment she could inflict upon Olive was to -forbid her to see Monica again until she returns -to school, whenever that may be."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And although Monica said, "Oh!" and looked -disconsolate, she could not but admit that the -punishment was a just one.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="a-nice-scrape-she-ll-get-into"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XIII.</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">"A NICE SCRAPE SHE'LL GET INTO!"</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"Monica Beauchamp is back at school."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The news soon spread, until all the Fourth -Form girls were aware of the fact, and, for the most -part, it was received with acclamation, for the bright, -high-spirited girl had been missed during the month -she had been away.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There was only one little clique who regretted her -return, and that was Lily Howell and her votaries -who, knowing she had a rooted objection to the -new-comer, took their cue from their leader, and -looked upon Monica as an interloper; but it must -be confessed that, personally, they had no fault to -find with her, except that the absolute indifference -with which she treated them annoyed them terribly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>During recreation, when Olive would fain have -had Monica all to herself, several of the girls, in -other forms besides her own, gathered round her, -and made quite a fuss of her. This of course did -not escape Lily's notice, who, remembering one -occasion when she had returned to school after a -slight illness, and no one had expressed any pleasure -at seeing her back again, was frightfully jealous of -Monica.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But the chief reason why she was sorry to see -Monica at school once more was because she knew -that, with Monica in the arithmetic class, her own -chance of coming out first in the examination was -decidedly lessened. There were only two studies -which Monica had any real interest in, and those were -German and arithmetic; the former because she -had a very fair idea of the language, and the latter -she thoroughly enjoyed and consequently took pains -with.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Up to the half-term, Monica had kept her place -steadily, much to Lily's mortification, who had -always been praised for her neatly worked examples, -until Monica appeared upon the scene, with her less -tidy, but far more quick and correct work. But the -month she had been away provided Lily with a -grand opportunity of getting ahead; and she had -worked with a zeal, worthy of a better cause, to -endeavour to supplant Monica.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Great was her chagrin, then, to find upon a new -rule being explained by Miss Churchill, that Monica -was well acquainted with it, and had worked out -a given example, and got the right answer, before -the problem had thoroughly penetrated Lily's brain. -She did not know that Monica had spent many -hours amusing herself with her </span><em class="italics">Hamblin Smith</em><span> -while she had been laid up at home, and so had got -far ahead of what the Fourth Form was still doing.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Very good indeed, Monica! You have worked -that out well," commended Miss Churchill, as she -looked at the sum; and Monica flushed with pleasure -at words of praise such as she seldom had received -before.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>During that last fortnight of the summer term, -she tried her very hardest to have a neat exercise -book, as well as correct answers, but it was uphill -work for Monica, whose home-lessons were invariably -blotted and smudged, and the lines anything but -straightly ruled. However, Miss Churchill, quick -to notice and commend real effort, encouraged her -several times with a word of praise. None of these -escaped Lily Howell's ears, and she felt more -convinced than ever that Monica was deliberately -aiming at supplanting her in the forthcoming -examination. No such idea had entered Monica's -head; she was merely actuated by a desire to please -Miss Churchill, and arithmetic was the only subject -(of those taught by her) for which Monica had -any liking. In English subjects and science she -was a terrible pupil, and she was continually getting -into trouble on account of carelessly written, or -insufficiently learnt, work; but as it was just at the -end of the term, and she had been away so long, -she was let off more easily than she really deserved.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At length the examination week dawned, and -those girls who were keen about their place in the -class list spent all their spare time in cramming. -Amethyst Drury, whose talents lay in the direction -of English history and geography, was continually -on the look out for some one to hear her say her -"dates," and ask her questions about Africa, the -country they were to be examined upon that term. -Elsa, who, among others, was what their teacher -called an "all-round girl," knew it was hopeless to try -to look up everything, so she depended upon the -knowledge she had gained during the term; by -far the wisest plan. Olive, who seldom did well -in any subject, on account of carelessness and -inattention, expected to "get along somehow"; the -only distinction she ever obtained was for drawing, -and as she certainly had a real gift in that direction -she was universally acknowledged to be the artist -of the class.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It would be impossible, as well as unnecessary, -to describe in detail the varied experiences of the -examination week. Suffice it to say that the -questions, according to the girls' opinions, were -"harder than ever," and the candidates were none -too hopeful when they gave up their papers, after -a couple of hours' work upon each subject; somehow -just the questions they had made sure Miss -So-and-So would set had not been included, and the -very things they had fondly hoped would not be -required had been given a prominent place! But -that is an experience common to all time, and by -no means peculiar to the girls of that Fourth Form.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The arithmetic examination was almost the last -on the list. And most of the girls who had -expended their energies on previous subjects looked -with dismay at the long list of difficult examples. -Olive glanced at the others to see what they thought -of it, but Elsa was beginning to write steadily, and -Monica, catching her eye, gave her a reassuring -smile; it seemed rather a nice paper to her. -Amethyst, who was no mathematician, was biting -the end of her penholder and looking frantic.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Olive was just going to dip her pen in the ink -and begin to inscribe her name elaborately on -the top sheet of the ruled paper before her, when -something made her look in Lily Howell's direction -just in time to see an ugly expression of malignant -jealousy sweep over her face, as she observed Monica -steadily applying herself to answer the questions -which appalled her rival.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There'll be awful ructions in that quarter, if -Monica comes out top, as I do hope she will," -soliloquised Olive, and then a reproving glance from -Miss Churchill warned her to get on with her work.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For an hour no sound was heard but the scratching -of pens and the rustling of paper, except now and -then when a long-drawn sigh escaped the lips of -one or other of the girls, as she realised her inability -to solve a difficult problem.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>By that time Olive had come to the end of her -resources and could do no more, so she fastened -her papers together and then began to look about -at the other girls with a view to seeing how they -were getting on. Her desk was in one corner of -the room, and Monica (who long since had had -to be moved to a distance from Olive, on account -of whispering) was in the centre of the second row -quite near the front. Lily Howell and her ally, -Maggie Masters, were next to each other in the -opposite corner from Olive's.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A glance at Monica showed her to be still hard -at work over her paper, so Olive turned her attention -elsewhere. As she looked across at Lily, their eyes -met, and Olive turned away quickly, for she did -not want to get into trouble with Miss Churchill, -who might think they were communicating with each -other in some way; but a peculiar expression she -had seen in Lily's light grey orbs impelled her to -look again a few seconds later, and then what she -saw horrified her, and her eyes seemed rooted to -the spot! For Lily was positively making copious -use of the contents of some little note-book or paper, -(Olive could not detect which) that was cleverly -hidden, on the desk, by Maggie's pencil-box, from -Miss Churchill's view.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The horrid, mean, hateful sneak!" Olive, in her -anger and contempt could not find enough opprobrious -epithets. "She's got all her tables, and -a whole lot of hints copied out, I do believe, and -of course, now she'll go and beat Monica; but I'll -be even with her! A nice scrape she'll get into!" And -Olive chuckled to herself at the thought of -what was in store. "Perhaps she'll be expelled, -and a good job, too. I'd better nudge Gipsy, and -make her see, in case the sneak goes and declares -she didn't cheat."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Olive glanced over into the other corner again, -but--nothing wrong was to be seen! All trace of -the notes had vanished, and Lily was neatly ruling -her manuscript paper as if no such thing as cheating -had ever entered her head!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, you wretch!" And Olive felt as if she could -have done anything to her, so exasperated was she -to think that she had been "done"; for not once -again, during the time that remained for the -arithmetic paper, did she catch a glimpse of the -missing paper. At length the gong sounded, and -whether completed or not, the girls had to fasten -their sheets together and hand the papers in to -Miss Churchill.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They were glad enough to stretch their cramped -limbs, and let their tongues loose during the -recreation that followed, in discussing the questions -and comparing their answers. Olive, of course, told -Monica what she had seen Lily doing, and how vexed -she was to think she could not prove it to Miss -Churchill, if she were to tell her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, let it be," said Monica, who loathed telling -tales; "she'll be so mad if you tell, and she'll be sure -to declare it wasn't a crib."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I shall tell if she comes out top."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And Monica could not persuade her otherwise.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We shall know to-morrow," said Olive as they -entered the school door.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But in less than five minutes after the words had -escaped her lips, part of the truth had come to light, -and it happened in this way.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Lily (who was under the impression that her neat -little scheme for aiding her memory had been quite -unobserved by any one except Maggie, who had -benefited by it, too), already, in imagination, saw her -own name at the head of the list. But she thought -it would be just as well to make assurance doubly -sure, by securing Monica's downfall, if it were -possible, in case she should be perilously near. So, as -she passed up to the desk with her paper, taking -care to be the last girl who filed out, she very quietly -dropped her little paper of tables, etc., on the floor of -Monica's desk, in such a manner as to make it -appear as if it had slipped off Monica's lap, when she -rose to go out.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Now we shall be quits!" was her amiable -thought, as she went with the rest into the -playground. She bound Maggie, with promises of many -good things, to absolute secrecy, and returned to the -classroom to await developments.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The girls had no sooner taken their places than -they became aware that something was wrong! The -head-mistress Miss Buckingham came in with a very -stern expression on her face, and Miss Churchill -seemed on the verge of tears.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am grieved to tell you that there is a cheat--yes, -a </span><em class="italics">cheat</em><span>," and Miss Buckingham repeated the -words with scornful emphasis, "amongst you girls of -the Fourth Form. Miss Churchill found this paper, -containing arithmetical tables and various other -information, under one of the desks when you had -left the classroom. I desire that girl, who has -sought to secure a good place in the examination -list by such despicable means to stand up in her -place."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A furtive glance from Lily, who was as white as a -ghost, revealed the fact that the head-mistress was -looking straight at Monica, and the real culprit -breathed freely, and the colour came back to her -cheeks. She did not know that Olive's gaze was -riveted on her, or she would not have felt so easy -in her mind as she did!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Come, stand up," repeated Miss Buckingham, -and Monica began to feel uncomfortable. Why did -the head-mistress look so persistently at </span><em class="italics">her</em><span>, when -it was Lily Howell who was the culprit.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, I am sorry she will not confess it herself," -said the calm, cold voice of the head of the school; -"but Monica Beauchamp is the cheat!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'm </span><em class="italics">not</em><span>!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"She </span><em class="italics">isn't</em><span>!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The two disclaimers burst simultaneously from -the lips of Monica and Olive, who were aghast at -this fresh piece of trickery, and could not imagine -how it had come to pass.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Olive Franklyn, sit down. Now, Monica, what -have you to say in defence of yourself?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I know nothing whatever about it; I would scorn -such a mean trick. Miss Churchill knows I would," -and Monica looked reproachfully at the little mistress, -who had been a sad and silent spectator, so far.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I cannot believe you would cheat, Monica, -but----" and she paused significantly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Meanwhile, Olive had been frantically trying to -make Monica see her, but failing to do so, she asked -permission to speak, and told what she had seen on -Lily's desk.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But both Lily and Maggie stoutly denied having -had anything of the kind in their possession, and, as -no other girl seemed to have observed it, Miss -Churchill was reluctantly compelled to think that -Olive, in championing her friend's cause, was drawing -on her imagination. The figures and words on the -paper were all in printing hand, so that no one's -writing was recognisable.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>No more light being thrown on the matter by -further questioning, Miss Buckingham left the -classroom, saying: "I shall not decide upon the -punishment to be given until to-morrow morning, by which -time I sincerely hope that the girl, whose conscience -must be accusing her, will be ready to make -confession."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In her own mind, Miss Buckingham was of opinion -that Monica Beauchamp was entirely innocent; and -she could not but feel that suspicion strongly rested -upon Lily Howell, although the latter had feigned -entire ignorance of the matter; for her changing -colour belied her words.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The truth was arrived at in a singular and -indisputable way after all.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When correcting the arithmetic papers, late that -afternoon, in the teacher's room, Miss Churchill -found some most astonishing blunders in Lily -Howell's calculations. For some time she was -mystified, and then it dawned upon her what had -happened.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why, the girl's cubic measure is all wrong. -No less than three times she has put down 1278 -cubic inches instead of 1728, when reckoning a cubic -foot. It is curious how she came to transpose the -numbers? I wonder----"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She hastened across the hall to Miss Buckingham's -room, and upon looking at the "crib," she saw, -with a curious sense of satisfaction (for she felt sure -Monica was innocent) that underneath "Solid or -Cubic Measure" the first line, was</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span>1278 cub. in. = 1 cub. ft.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"Found out!" she murmured, and recrossing the -hall, she told two of the other teachers, who were also -correcting papers, what she had discovered, and bade -them look at the paper, and compare it with Lily's -sums.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They both agreed it was a very clear case, and -when, upon examination, Monica was found to have -calculated her cubic inches rightly each time, no -further proof of Lily Howell's guilt was needed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Little did that individual dream of what awaited -her on the morrow, when she retired to rest that -night, rather well satisfied with the success which -she thought she had achieved.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The girls waited breathlessly next morning for -Miss Buckingham's verdict; many had been the -conversations about it, and very varied were the -punishments suggested. Every one was sure that, -somehow, Lily would be proved guilty, most of -them thinking that she would voluntarily confess.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Monica, knowing she was quite innocent, felt no -real fear, although she was not at all sure that she -would escape punishment, for she was under the -impression that Miss Buckingham had believed her -to be the culprit.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Every one was amazed when they heard the -conclusion of the matter. In a few terse words the -head-mistress explained how the truth had been -brought to light; and no one felt that undue -punishment was being meted out to Lily Howell when -she was informed that after that term she would -not be allowed to return to the Osmington High -School.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Not only for the using of unfair and forbidden -means in order to secure a good place in the -examination list, but far more on account of the wicked -intention to bring discredit and punishment upon an -innocent fellow-schoolgirl."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Miss Buckingham's words were stern and uncompromising, -and poor unhappy Lily Howell cowered -beneath her glance.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was an unfortunate ending to the term, and the -girls who came off victorious in the examinations -did not feel the same satisfaction as they would -have done if nothing of the kind had occurred. -Monica, of course, was first in arithmetic; Amethyst -secured a similar place in English history, and -although she was beaten in geography, she did not -mind so very much, as the honours fell to her friend -Elsa.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A few days more, and the huge pile of buildings -which constituted the Osmington High School was -left in the charge of caretakers, for governesses and -pupils alike had scattered in every direction to enjoy -the long, summer vacation.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="sunday-again-already"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XIV.</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">"SUNDAY AGAIN ALREADY!"</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"Oh, isn't it simply glorious?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"How beautiful the sea looks!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Sundry exclamations such as these escaped the -lips of most of the passengers in the heavily laden -train bound for Sandyshore, as it emerged from a -tunnel with a shrill whistle, and rounded the last -corner prior to slowing down. A beautiful panorama -stretched out before them; in the foreground lay -the quaint old town, beyond that an expanse of -deep, blue sea, and in the distance the white, rocky -peaks of some promontory seemed almost dazzling -in the brilliance of an August sun.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Two out of three young people in a reserved -second-class compartment were in ecstasies of -delight; and the third was contemplating a month -at Sandyshore, with very different feelings from -those she had expressed a couple of months ago. -For Monica had obtained her wish, and she would -have Olive as her companion and friend during -all that holiday month.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It had not been quite easy to gain Mrs. Franklyn's -consent to let Olive accompany the Beauchamp -party; especially after the trouble about the -novel-reading, but eventually she had consented, upon -both Monica and Olive promising her faithfully not -to cause her distress in that way again. And when -Mrs. Beauchamp insisted upon Elsa going with them -too, she and the doctor very gladly availed -themselves of the kindness and generosity which would -enable their twin-daughters to have such a thorough -holiday and change, free of expense.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Monica had, at first, demurred a little over -having Elsa, saying "two's company, and three's -none," but her grandmother was firm. For one -thing, Mrs. Beauchamp thought it would be just -as well to have Elsa, on account of her trustworthiness, -and the old lady was a trifle afraid of -Olive getting into mischief without her more -sensible sister being near by. Also she had a -desire to know more of the gentle-mannered girl, -and quite looked forward to enjoying her bright -young society, when the other two girls were bent -on following their own devices. So Monica had, -perforce, to fall in with her grandmother's wishes, -and when it was known that Mr. Drury was -acting as locum-tenens of the quaint old church -of St. Mary, Sandyshore, everything seemed to fit in -splendidly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As it happened, the Drurys preceded their friends -by a couple of days. So Amethyst was at the station -to meet the girls when they arrived. She had never -been to Sandyshore before, and was captivated with -the dear little old-fashioned town, as all its summer -visitors were. Her merry tongue rattled away about -all its charms and wonders while Barnes counted up -the huge dress-baskets, trunks, and other articles -of luggage belonging to the party, and engaged a -couple of cabs to convey them to their destination.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At length, all was satisfactorily accomplished, and, -with arrangements for an early meeting, Amethyst -saw them drive off into the town, and then ran home -to the quaint, rambling old vicarage, next to the -church, which the Drurys were occupying.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Meanwhile, after a few minutes' drive through the -narrow-streeted town, and up a very steep hill, -"Mrs. Beauchamp and party" (according to the -"Sandyshore Visitors' List") arrived at "Rocklands," -a large house, standing in its own grounds, overlooking -the entire bay.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Beauchamp always engaged rooms at that -particular house, owing to the magnificent view -which she could enjoy, simply by sitting comfortably -ensconced in one or other of the bay windows; for, -in one direction, Rocklands overlooked the pier, -to and from which pleasure steamers were continually -passing; and when one tired of these, the sands, -thickly sprinkled with bathing machines and private -tents, amused and interested the onlooker with their -varied phases of holiday life.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Comfort being of more importance than expense -to Mrs. Beauchamp, she had made every arrangement -for convenience during their month's stay at -Rocklands by engaging a whole suite of rooms. Thus -Elsa and Olive were charmed to find themselves the -proud possessors of a delightful bedroom, while -Monica occupied the one next to theirs. Seldom -were their doors shut; it was such a new experience -for Monica to have young companions to live with. -Then the dining-room in which they had all their -meals was entirely at the girls' disposal, between -times, when they could do just as they pleased, and -"need not be so much on their best behaviour," as -Monica termed it, as in the drawing-room. But the -weather was so delightful, and so seldom did it -rain, that the trio were not often to be found indoors -except in the evenings.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The next morning, the whole party were early -on the small strip of shore, which extended for fully -half a mile round the bay, and on which the visitors -made themselves thoroughly at home. The short -season was at its height, and at first sight there -seemed no chance of securing a comfortable position; -but as they walked along the Shore Road, looking -down upon the gay throng of holiday-makers, Elsa -descried a well-known figure, and saw Amethyst -frantically signalling to them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There seems room there, Mrs. Beauchamp," she -suggested, "where the Drurys are. Shall we go -down?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And in a few minutes, after mutual greetings, -Mrs. Beauchamp was comfortably settled in her deck -chair, while the girls, spreading a rug on the sand, -threw themselves down upon it in careless attitudes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>That first morning was but a sample of most of -those which followed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Beauchamp read, or chatted with Mr. and -Mrs. Drury, while the young people enjoyed -themselves in every way. A tent, next to the one used -by the Drurys, was hired, and the girls had great -fun over bathing. Mrs. Beauchamp wished Monica -to learn to swim, so an old bathing-machine -proprietor, one of the chief features of Sandyshore, used -to give her and Olive a lesson every morning. -Elsa was too timid to really enjoy more of the sea -than could be had where the water was comparatively -shallow, and Amethyst and she were quite content -to look on at the more daring exploits of the other -two girls.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Such fun and merriment did they all have that -first week at Sandyshore, that it did not seem possible -that they </span><em class="italics">could</em><span> enjoy themselves more, although -Amethyst's one cry was: "Won't it be just too -perfectly lovely when Marcus comes?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Marcus Drury, Amethyst's brother and senior by -four or five years, had only recently gone up to -Cambridge upon leaving Trent College. He had -been spending a few weeks of the Long Vacation -with another undergraduate at the latter's home in -Scotland, but now he was expected to arrive at -Sandyshore any day, and his devoted and admiring -little sister was on the tiptoe of excitement about -his coming. Of course, he was well known to the -Franklyn girls, with whose brothers he had been -friendly since the Drurys had lived at Osmington, -but Monica felt a good deal of interest in the young -fellow of whom she had heard so much.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Therefore, one morning, some ten days after their -arrival at Sandyshore, when Amethyst came flying -along the Shore Road to meet them with the words, -"Marcus has come, and you'll never guess who is -with him!" all three girls were quite as mystified -as she wished them to be.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No one I know," said Monica, with decision.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, you don't; but the others do." And -Amethyst bubbled over with excitement. "Do be -quick and guess: I can't keep it much longer."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Not Dick?" hazarded Elsa, more to please her -friend than because she expected to be right.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, not Dick," said Amethyst merrily. "Try again."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Roger, then," said Olive.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, yes, yes! Isn't it splendid? He wanted to -surprise you, and he's got a week's holiday from -St. Adrian's, and Marcus met him in the Strand, or -somewhere, and persuaded him to pack up and come -down here with him."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, how lovely!" cried the twins simultaneously; -"do let us see him. Where is he?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There," and Amethyst triumphantly pointed out -a couple of young fellows not very far away, who -had evidently been enjoying, from a distance, the -surprise the news had caused.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Monica, feeling somewhat out of it, followed the -others rather more slowly, and thus secured a good -look at the newcomers while they were engaged in -greeting Olive and Elsa.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There was no doubt as to which was which: the -elder, of medium height, slightly built, dark, with -brown eyes, was a Franklyn all over; while his -companion, a tall, broad-shouldered youth, with -merry blue eyes and curly hair, although he was -not in the least like his sister, bore an -unmistakable resemblance to Mr. Drury.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Raising his panama hat, round which his college -colours were twisted, he came forward with -outstretched hand, and Monica thought she had never -liked any one so well, at first sight, as this debonair -undergraduate. She had previously somewhat sneered -at Amethyst's praises of her paragon brother, but she -could understand her feelings now that she had met -Marcus Drury.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She almost forgot his companion, until a quiet, -manly voice, so different from the other's boyish -tones, said, "How do you do, Miss Beauchamp? I -am very glad to meet my sister's friend." And she -found herself shaking hands with Olive's eldest -brother.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A very short time sufficed to put them all at their -ease, and then, as the tide was fast going out, they -went in different directions for their bathe. But an -hour later found the young people all together again, -and the girls were charmed with the proposal that -they should go for a row, there being just an hour -left before dinner.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mr. and Mrs. Drury, who had undertaken to keep -Mrs. Beauchamp company until their return, watched -the boatful with interest, until Roger's and Marcus' -even strokes had rowed it so far as to be scarcely -more than a speck.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Dear boy," murmured Mrs. Drury, as she took -up the knitting she had neglected; and her husband -smiled as he said, quizzically: "Do you mean -Roger?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I meant Marcus, of course," replied his wife, with -a smile, "but Roger is a dear boy, too. I only -wish----"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What do you wish, Nora?" queried her husband, -in a lower tone, as he tilted his black straw hat -over his eyes, to protect them from the glare of the -midday sun.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why, the same as I know you wish, Herbert," -was the reply, "that in choosing the medical -profession Roger had been actuated by the -one desire to follow in the steps of the Good -Physician."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, I would that he had, but I fear it was not -so. But, Nora, motives and hearts, too, can be -changed. Why should not Roger Franklyn go back -to St. Adrian's 'transformed'?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ah! why not?" And little Mrs. Drury's eyes -grew earnest, as she looked out at the tiny black -speck dancing on the ocean in the distance, and she -prayed that God would answer that other mother's -prayers, and give to Roger a new purpose, a new -ideal in life.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The days flew swiftly by, what with picnics, tennis, -bathing, boating, and many other amusements and -enjoyments, and Sunday dawned.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Monica and Olive, it must be confessed, did not -appreciate that one day in the week as much as -they should, inasmuch as they were compelled, of -necessity, to forego during its sacred hours all the -secular amusements with which they filled up every -moment of the week, from Monday morning until -Saturday evening. They awoke that brilliant August -morning to the unwelcome remembrance that it -was "Sunday again already!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But Elsa, whose happiest hours were spent in -God's house, with a tender little smile hovering -round her lips, drew up the blinds, and looked out -upon the calm blue sea, and lifted her heart in -thanksgiving to her Heavenly Father for making -such a beautiful world. Even Olive's ceaseless -chatter, as they dressed, did not disturb her; and -when her sister had gone into Monica's room, as she -invariably did, Elsa gently shut the door, and taking -her little Bible, she knelt by the open window and -prayed long and earnestly. She did not know how -to pray properly, she only knew how to talk to her -dearest Friend, and she was accustomed to tell Him -everything, and ask with the simplicity and directness -of a little child for what she needed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>That morning, after praying for help and strength -for herself, to enable her to be a faithful follower of -her Master, she remembered her darling mother -(whom it had been a very real sorrow to leave) and -all those at home; and then her heart seemed -overwhelmed with the thought of those about her, who, -as yet, did not know and serve her Saviour. "Oh! -Lord," she prayed, "do speak to-day, </span><em class="italics">somehow</em><span>, to -Monica and Olive. I can't bear to think of them -going on living without Thee. And kind Mrs. Beauchamp -wants something to satisfy her. O Lord, -she wants </span><em class="italics">Thee</em><span>! and Roger needs Thee, too. Lord, -show Thyself to them all to-day, and show them they -will never be happy until they have come to Thee."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Thus, in all earnestness, but with childish simplicity, -Elsa poured out her heart unto the Lord, and "the -Lord hearkened and heard."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The dear old-fashioned church, taxed to its utmost -to provide accommodation for the throngs of -fashionably attired people who poured ceaselessly up the -aisles, as the five-minute bell gave warning that -service would soon commence, was eventually -crammed with a huge congregation, made up of -many types. Perhaps it would be safe to say that -the majority of the people assembled within the -sacred edifice had gone there because "it was the -proper thing to do"; they neither expected nor -desired any spiritual help.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Among this class were several of our acquaintances. -In one pew, a prominent one, because the verger -had an eye to a substantial sum for the offertory -from such an imposing looking personage as -Mrs. Beauchamp, in her trailing gown of black satin, and -a Parisian bonnet, were seated the two Franklyn -girls, Monica and her grandmother; Elsa being next -to the old lady.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At a little distance, and at right angles to them, -at the end of the vicarage pew in the south transept, -Marcus' tall form towered above those in the vicinity, -and made his neighbour, Roger Franklyn, look quite -insignificant; also Mrs. Drury and Amethyst. It is -to be feared that some of the occupants of the two -pews were a trifle disposed to look at each other, -at first; but a glance from her mother subdued -Amethyst, and she soon forgot the others in paying -attention to the service.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Marcus, who had a tenor voice, which promised to -be of unusual quality, sang all the chants and -hymns; but Roger, a slightly cynical expression -disfiguring his clear-cut features, took no part in the -service. With arms folded, and head erect, he stood -looking straight before him, his eyes wandering, -occasionally, to the pew in which his sisters sat; -but he did not look at them so much as at their -friend.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Monica, her softly rounded cheeks already tanned -by exposure to sun and sea, was looking really -handsome that morning. Her hair, arranged in a new and -becoming fashion, was tied back with a large cream -bow, which matched her flop hat and daintily made -dress. The only scrap of colour about her was a -couple of dark crimson roses, tucked carelessly into -her waistband; and altogether she made a very -pretty picture, standing, as she did, erect and tall, -between the twins, who wore simple delaine frocks -of a pale greenish hue.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mr. Drury conducted the service, and a young -clergyman, apparently a curate, read the lessons. -Elsa, with a sinking heart, saw the latter ascend -the pulpit stairs; for it must be confessed she had -hoped her favourite, Mr. Drury, would be the -preacher. But she need not have feared; God had -given Leslie Herschel a message to deliver to the -congregation assembled at St. Mary's Church that -August Sunday morning, and as the young man -looked down upon the throbbing mass of never-dying -souls, his heart went up to God that many -there that morning might be led to make the one -great choice.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="oh-monica-don-t"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XV.</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">"OH, MONICA, DON'T!"</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"My text you will find in the First Book of -Chronicles, the twenty-ninth chapter and -the fifth verse. 'Who then is willing to consecrate -his service this day unto the Lord'?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The young preacher, for he had been barely two -years in orders, read the verse once, and yet again, -feelingly, and as if he would impress every word -of it upon his hearers, and then he closed his Bible, -and began his sermon.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was not a very long one; indeed there were -a few who wished it had been half as long again. -It was not by any means a brilliant peroration, -but yet there were points about it which made -it the most remarkable sermon to which many of -his hearers had ever listened. And that last word -gives the key to the whole thing; they </span><em class="italics">had</em><span> to listen! -Whether they liked it or not (and many, very many, -did not at all appreciate the home-truths which they -heard), some unseen and uncontrollable impulse forced -them to listen, even against their will. The earnest, -ringing tones of the young preacher, his dark eyes, -which seemed to penetrate their very motives and -thoughts, stirred the apathetic indifference of that -nominally Christian congregation; and they realised, -some of them for the first time, that the service -of God was a very real and tangible thing, and that -they had, so far, had no part or lot in the matter.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Leslie Herschel dwelt first upon the Master, then -upon the service itself, and finally upon those who -were called to serve, and when and how that service -should be rendered.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My friends," he said, in conclusion, "I claim -your service, whole-hearted, faithful, loyal service, -to-day, for my Master. He will force none, coerce -no one into rendering unloving obedience, but He -pleads with you to-day to come with willing hearts -and offer Him your best. And what does He -promise in return? Peace, joy, hope, satisfaction -in this life, and eternal life in the world to come. -I ask you, are you content to do without Him? -Is this world, pleasant and attractive though it be, -so satisfying that you need nothing more than the -gaiety, the success, the honour, aye, and the gold -which it offers to some, but by no means all of -its devotees? But supposing you </span><em class="italics">are</em><span> satisfied now -(and I very much doubt if there exists a single -individual who is absolutely satisfied), will you be -satisfied, think you, when you come to stand, all -unprepared, in the presence of your Judge? Will -this world stand you in good stead </span><em class="italics">then</em><span>?" And -the preacher leaned over the pulpit, while with -searching glance his eyes seemed to scan every one -of the disturbed faces before him. "The Bible tells -me that 'this world passeth away.' What will it -advantage you, </span><em class="italics">then</em><span>, whether you have moved in -a select circle, or not? Whether you have acquired -fame and distinction, or not? Whether you have -been known among men as almost a millionaire, -or not? Oh! my friends, I beseech you, with all -earnestness, that you will </span><em class="italics">this day</em><span> choose the Lord -Christ for your Master.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is an old, but true, saying, that 'To-morrow -never comes'; we are only sure of to-day, -therefore 'Choose ye this day whom ye will serve,' -and say: 'Behold, Thy servants are ready to do -whatsoever my Lord the King shall appoint.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I do not, I dare not, promise you a path of ease -and luxury, but I </span><em class="italics">can</em><span> say, for I have proved it, that -the life which has Christ as its Alpha and Omega -is the only truly happy one, the only life worth -living. And that word 'whatsoever,' if you really -mean what you say, may entail the giving up of -many a cherished plan, many a life-long project. -It may mean going to China or Africa as a medical -missionary for one; to face the misery and horrors -of life among the denizens of the East End for -another; to live a Christlike life in a worldly and -uncongenial atmosphere for a third.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But in it all, and through it all, Christ's -never-failing arm will guide and uphold you, and His -voice will be heard, saying: 'Behold, I come -quickly, and My reward is with Me, to give every -man according as his work shall be.' '</span><em class="italics">Who</em><span>, then, -is willing to consecrate his service </span><em class="italics">this day</em><span> unto the -Lord?' May God in His mercy grant that from -many a heart in this church this morning the cry -may go up to Him, 'O Lord ... </span><em class="italics">I</em><span> am willing.'"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The strains of the organ, on which the opening -bars of that beautiful consecration hymn:</span></p> -<blockquote> -<div> -<div class="line-block outermost"> -<div class="line"><span>Take my life, and let it be</span></div> -<div class="line"><span>Consecrated, Lord, to Thee,</span></div> -</div> -</div> -</blockquote> -<p class="pfirst"><span>were being exquisitely played by the organist, -accentuated rather than disturbed the hush of -solemnity which had fallen upon the congregation, -as the young preacher concluded his earnest appeal -for personal dedication; and there were undoubtedly -several that morning who, realising the claim which -Christ had upon them, willingly surrendered all to Him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Beauchamp and Drury parties met in the -quaint old churchyard, and the two elder ladies -walked slowly on, while the young people waited -about for Mr. Drury.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"A wonderful sermon, was it not?" said Mrs. Drury.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ye--es; but rather too dictatorial in style for -such a young preacher." Mrs. Beauchamp's tones -expressed dissatisfaction.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Did you think it dictatorial?" enquired the -vicar's wife pleasantly; "it did not strike me in -that way. I thought it was a grand opportunity, -splendidly seized. With such a varied congregation, -coming as we do from all parts of England, no one -but God can foresee the results that may accrue, with -His blessing, from the faithful message this morning."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Perhaps so," was Mrs. Beauchamp's somewhat -absent reply; and she turned back as if to wait -for the girls.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Amethyst and Elsa were close at hand, and -quickly joined them, but Monica and Olive were -some distance behind, walking slowly, and apparently -deep in conversation. Mrs. Drury, who had not -been unobservant of the effect of the sermon upon -Monica, as she sat listening, listlessly at first, and -then was roused into paying startled attention to -the (to her) unusual discourse, tactfully drew her -own child and Elsa into conversation, as they walked -on. For she was sure, from the expressions on the -faces of the girls behind, that they were discussing -what they had been hearing.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As a matter of fact, after a few commonplaces -with Marcus and Roger, the girls left them, and -slowly following the others, had been silent -companions for a few moments.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then Olive, shaking off the unwelcome feelings -which had taken possession of her, said gaily: "A -penny for your thoughts, Monica!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You can have them without the penny," was her -friend's rather sad reply, as she slipped her arm into -Olive's. "I'm half inclined to do what he said, Ollie."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Olive raised a startled face to Monica's, and read -quite a new expression upon it, in which there was -a certain amount of determination. "What do you -mean?" she queried; but in her own heart she knew -full well what Monica meant.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why, to say </span><em class="italics">I</em><span> am willing," said Monica, with -some confusion, for she felt diffident about expressing -what she meant even to her greatest friend.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, Monica, don't! We'll never have any more -good times together," said Olive, and it must have -been her bad angel who prompted her words; "if -you do you'll have to leave me behind, for </span><em class="italics">I'm</em><span> not -going to give in."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I wish I could live like he said," and Monica's -face looked wistful. "Sometimes I----"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Sometimes I long to be able to write and tell -dad that it is all settled. He </span><em class="italics">would</em><span> be so glad."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, I don't see much in it," said Olive obstinately. -Her better feelings were aroused by Monica's -words, but she deliberately crushed them down.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, yes, there is; there's </span><em class="italics">everything</em><span> in it! You've -only to look at that young clergyman, and your -mother, and even Elsa, to see what a difference there -is. Oh, Olive, if I had your mother to help me I -</span><em class="italics">would</em><span>, really, say to God what we sang just now,</span></p> -<blockquote> -<div> -<div class="line-block outermost"> -<div class="line"><span>Take myself, and I will be</span></div> -<div class="line"><span>Ever, only, all for Thee"--</span></div> -</div> -</div> -</blockquote> -<p class="pfirst"><span>and Monica's young face glowed with feeling.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, you wouldn't," was Olive's moody reply, -"any more than I do. Of course, I mean to be -a Christian some day, but not while I'm only a girl; -I want some pleasure first."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, Olive, Olive, you little know the dark -cloud that even now is beginning to gather over your -head!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>With a sigh, Monica turned away, and, with one -consent, they hurried after the others, and no more -was said. But the elder girl's heart had been roused -and awakened, and never again would she drift into -her former state of indifference.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The two young fellows, waiting about in the -churchyard for Mr. Drury, at length received a -message to the effect that he would be detained still -longer, and they had better not wait for him. So -they, too, strolled down to the Shore Road, where -they knew they would eventually come across their -friends.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'm almost sorry I'm not in your shoes, old man," -said Marcus, as he adapted his long, swinging strides -to his friend's shorter steps.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It's a very good thing that you are a little -undecided about it," was Roger's somewhat -enigmatical reply. "But tell me what you mean?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why, I felt this morning as if I would give -anything to go in for medicine, with a view to going -abroad; but I know father has set his heart on my -taking orders."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"If I remember rightly, the preacher distinctly -observed that the service was not to be one of -picking and choosing but a case of 'whatsoever.'"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Something unusual about the tone in which Roger -made this remark, and a total absence of his usual -cynicism, made his friend glance curiously at him, -and he realised that a change, undefinable at present, -but nevertheless unmistakable, had taken place in -Roger Franklyn.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I say, old chap, I wish with all my heart </span><em class="italics">you</em><span> -would be a 'Whatsoever Christian,'" he said impulsively.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"With God's help I mean to be," was the unexpected -reply, as Roger lifted his hat, and glanced -upward, as if registering a vow.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Thank God!" was Marcus' low but fervent -response, as he gripped his friend's hand with such -force as to make him wince.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I knew you would be glad," was the quiet reply, -"and so will my dearest mother; she has been -praying a long time for her eldest boy, and he has -been very obstinate. But I shall need all your -prayers, now, for already I foresee trouble and -disappointment looming in the distance. The pater -is expecting me to follow in his footsteps when I -leave St. Adrian's, but I--oh! Drury, I am sure -those words were meant for me this morning. There -was probably not another medical student in the -church, and I felt called to offer myself to Him for -foreign service, if He will accept me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You need not doubt His acceptance, old fellow. -When we give what God asks for, you may be very -sure He takes it. How glad Herschel will be!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Who is Herschel?" ask Roger quickly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why, this morning's preacher. Did not you -hear father talking about him last night? No? -Oh, then I must tell you. He is staying down here -with his mother and a sister, I believe, and father -met him yesterday, some time. Leslie Herschel's -father (the late Dean of Balmore) and he were great -friends, so he was awfully glad to come across him, -and asked him, straight off, to preach this -morning. He has had a curacy in some huge mining -town, but he is going out to the Soudan this autumn."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It's marvellous how God makes things fit in," -remarked young Franklyn, with rather an -embarrassed laugh; it was such a new thing for </span><em class="italics">him</em><span> -to be talking in that strain. "I suppose, humanly -speaking, Mr. Drury might have preached a hundred -sermons and they would never have touched me; -but just this one, from an utter stranger, </span><em class="italics">did</em><span>. And -if he had been here either last Sunday, or next, -instead of to-day, I should not have heard it!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There is a little chorus we undergrads sing -sometimes, before we begin our Open-Airs, in -Cambridge," said Marcus, "which runs thus--</span></p> -<blockquote> -<div> -<div class="line-block outermost"> -<div class="line"><span>'I believe God answers prayer.</span></div> -<div class="line"><span>I am sure God answers prayer.</span></div> -<div class="line"><span>I have proved God answers prayer.</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span>Glory to His name.'"</span></div> -<div class="line"> </div> -</div> -</div> -</div> -</blockquote> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"He certainly answered prayer for me this morning, -and I'll trust Him for all the future."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Thus, Roger Franklyn, medical student, was -"transformed"; and, in the course of a few days, -he returned to his work at St. Adrian's, filled with -a new purpose, governed by one desire, and one only, -namely, to consecrate his service henceforth unto -the Lord.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mr. and Mrs. Drury's hearts were filled with -thanksgiving when they heard of his conversion, -and a smile irradiated Leslie Herschel's face when -he was told of one result, at any rate, of his claim -for service.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And Elsa: who can describe Elsa's joy, when, -late that Sunday evening as her brother bade her -"good-night" at Rocklands gate, he bent down -and whispered his news in her ear? He knew well -enough which of his twin sisters would be the one -to rejoice with him, for Elsa's brave efforts to live -a consistent Christian life in her own home had -not been unobserved by her eldest brother.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, Roger, darling, how splendid!" and she -clung tenderly to him. "</span><em class="italics">How</em><span> glad mamma will -be when she hears; she has been praying for you -so long. And I have, too," she added shyly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Dear little sister," he murmured, as he stooped -and kissed her forehead. "Go on praying, Elsa, -not only for me, but for Dick, and Olive, and the -others."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Monica was strangely subdued all that Sunday. -Twice Mrs. Beauchamp enquired if she were not -well, but she replied that nothing ailed her. Elsa, -who felt sure that she had been, in some way, -influenced by the sermon, tried to muster sufficient -courage to speak to her about it; but no opportunity -occurred. Olive seemed determined never to leave -Monica's side for a moment. So persistent was she, -that even Monica grew cross once, and said pettishly, -"Do be quiet for a bit, Olive, I want to read." But -if any one had taken the trouble to watch her -movements, they would have seen that she rarely -turned a page, although she appeared to be absorbed -in her story.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In reality, Monica was thinking; good and evil -were striving for the mastery within her, and she -did not seem able to come to any decision. She -longed to become a Christian, in her inmost heart, -but something seemed to bar the way. At first, -she could not think what the obstacle could be; -but before she had lain down to rest that night, -she knew that it was her friend, Olive, who was -hindering her from taking the decisive step. Olive -had said, "Oh, Monica, don't!" and although she -knew that she was acting worse than foolishly, -Monica decided not to make the great choice just then!</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="do-be-careful-girls"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XVI.</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">"DO BE CAREFUL, GIRLS."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"Hurrah! Three cheers for mumsie!" cried -Amethyst excitedly, one morning.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What's up now?" enquired her brother, in a -provokingly calm tone.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why, we're all going for a picnic to Gullane -Head, father as well, for the whole day. Isn't it -scrumptious?" And she danced about him in great glee.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Very," he agreed, "but whom do you mean by -'all'? Four people scarcely constitute a picnic."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Silly boy!" she retorted; "of course Monica and -the Franklyns are coming. Mumsie arranged it all -with Mrs. Beauchamp yesterday, only she would -not say a word until this morning, in case it should -not be fine. But there's no fear of rain to-day," -and she glanced up at the deep blue sky, in which -no speck of cloud was visible, with great satisfaction.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"How do you propose to get there?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, father and you are to bicycle, and mother -and we four girls are going in a waggonette."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Is Mrs. Beauchamp going to bicycle, also?" -asked Marcus, gravely. He was terribly fond of -teasing his young sister.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, you dreadful boy! Of course not! She -isn't going at all; it's too much of a real picnic for -her to enjoy."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'm sorry Roger has gone," mused Marcus, as -he began putting his Kodak in order, with a view -to some snap-shotting. "I wonder if Herschel would -care to come."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He was soon striding up the quaint old street -to the lodgings occupied by the Herschels. The -town was very full, and rooms were at a premium, -so that the Herschels had been glad to secure even -such rooms as they had, in a very old-fashioned -house, where the front door opened into the -sitting-room, and when one sat in the low bay window, -one seemed absolutely in the street.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Marcus, whistling a merry tune, paused a moment -at the door, and then went by it, and tapped at the -window. All the visitors acted in a very free-and-easy -fashion at Sandyshore!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He was invited to "come in," and without more -ado he walked into the sitting-room, where the -remains of breakfast were still upon the table.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>With apologies for intruding so early, Marcus -shook hands with a sweet-looking widow lady, the -depth of whose mourning betokened recent loss, -and a tall slender girl, whose clear, grey eyes seemed -too large for the fragile little face surrounded with -an aureole of fair hair.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I came to see if Herschel had any plans for -to-day. If not, we are having a picnic at Gullane -Head, about seven miles from here, and I wondered -whether he would bicycle over with father and me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Do, Leslie; it will do you good," said his mother, -as the young clergyman hesitated, and demurred -about leaving them for a whole day, when his time -with them was getting so short. "Robina and I -have plenty to amuse ourselves with."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Would you both join us?" asked Marcus. -"Mother and the girls are going in a waggonette."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Thank you very much, but I am afraid you -must excuse us. Robina is not very strong, and -it suits us best to have a lazy time by the -sea." Mrs. Herschel smiled lovingly at her daughter, whose -fair face flushed at the allusion to her health, for -it was a sore trial to Robina Herschel that she had -always to be taken care of, and shielded from every -ill wind. But she bore her cross bravely, and no -word of murmuring escaped her lips, although she -was denied much that goes to make a girl's life happy.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What time do you start, Drury?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, 10.30, I believe; but come round to the -vicarage directly you are ready, won't you?" and, -excusing himself on the plea of having to pump up -his tyres, Marcus hurried away.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was a merry party that finally left the Vicarage, -after various delays, that morning. For some time -the three cyclists kept level with the waggonette, -and Marcus teased Amethyst and the girls most -unmercifully about ill-treating the poor horse by -making him drag such heavy weights as they were, -etc., etc.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It isn't us, it's all the lunch we had to bring for -you," cried Amethyst.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, indeed! You hear, mother? Be sure not to -give my small sister so much as a crumb, because, -upon her own confession, it's all been brought for me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh! isn't he tiresome, mumsie?" said his sister, -with a little pout. She did not care to be made a -laughing-stock of, and the others were all smiling.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He's only teasing you, girlie; I wouldn't mind," -said Mrs. Drury.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Dick always goes on like that," put in Olive. -"Brothers are an awful nuisance, but they 'keep a -body alive,' as our old cook says."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I wish I had one," said Monica wistfully, her -glance following the merry young fellow who was -now cycling along at a good rate, in order to -pick up the two clerics, who were well ahead.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't know what Mrs. Beauchamp would say -to a troublesome grandson as well as a troublesome -granddaughter," said Olive mischievously. But the -words were scarcely out of her mouth before she -wished she had not said them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For Monica, drawing herself up, with one of her -haughty airs, said sarcastically: "I am much obliged -for your opinion of me, I am sure; especially as no -one asked you for it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, I only said it for fun," and Olive looked -repentantly at her friend. But Monica chose to -consider herself injured, and for some little time all -the occupants of the waggonette felt a trifle -uncomfortable.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But a halt was proclaimed soon after, and all the -party dismounted, in order to go over a lighthouse -which was situated about two-thirds of the way -between Sandyshore and Gullane Head, and in the -general interest resulting from an inspection of the -wonderful mechanism, which the lighthouse keeper -proudly explained to them, the little cloud blew over, -and by the time their destination was reached, Olive -and Monica were as good friends as ever.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Gullane Head, as the promontory which projected -from the mainland was called, was an ideal place -for picnics. There were several old caves, said -to have been used as hiding-places for contraband -goods years before; and the huge boulders which -had evidently fallen at some time or other from the -cavernous roofs made rough-and-ready chairs and -tables, provided one was not too particular.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was universally decided that it would be the -best plan to have lunch first, as they were all hungry, -and then devote a long afternoon to exploring the -neighbourhood. So a particularly nice spot was -chosen, and amid much laughter an impromptu -lunch was quickly laid upon one of the flattest -boulders, and the party seated themselves, as best -they could, around it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'm glad we've got it all to ourselves," said -Amethyst, with a deep sigh of enjoyment, as she -passed a plate containing half a pork-pie to Marcus; -between whom and herself a truce had been declared.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I can't understand it," added the vicar. "I should -have thought half Sandyshore would come to such -a charming spot." And he leaned over and looked -down at the dark blue sea, dashing up against the -base of the rocks, some sixty or seventy feet below.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is rather an expensive drive, for one thing," -said his wife, who was engaged in pouring lemonade -syrup into glasses, to which Elsa added water.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"By the way, where is our coachee?" enquired -Marcus. "Isn't he to have something to eat?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He has driven on to the Coastguard station, -to put up his horse," replied his father. "Some -relations of his live there, he says. He will turn -up again at four."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Are you enjoying your holiday, Miss Beauchamp?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Monica started at the sound of a voice near her -elbow, and looked up to see that the young clergyman, -of whom she was frightfully shy, and whom she had -done her utmost to avoid so far, had found a seat -near her own, which was rather a high lump of -rock where she had perched herself in order to get -a good view of the undercliff.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, thank you, very much," she faltered; and -then she pulled herself together, for it was an unusual -thing for Monica Beauchamp to be at a loss for words.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Sandyshore, and indeed all the coast in this -neighbourhood, is very lovely," said Leslie Herschel, -his eyes sweeping the panorama that stretched out -before them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I couldn't bear staying here last year," admitted -Monica, "and when I knew my grandmother was -coming again, I was vexed at first; but I should -have been very sorry not to have come, now."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"How is that? May I ask what has made the -difference?" And there was eager questioning in -his voice, also in the dark eyes which met Monica's.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why, I have had my special friend, Olive -Franklyn, with me, this year, and that has made all -the difference," was Monica's reply.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Leslie heaved an involuntary sigh, for he had -observed the young girl's startled attention on the -previous Sunday morning, and he had hoped to -have heard that it was the presence of a new-found -Heavenly Friend that had made things different. -He looked earnestly at Monica, who was occupied -with balancing her plate, safely, upon one knee, and -wondered whether the present was a good opportunity -for speaking a word for his Master, or whether -a better one might occur later on.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He had just decided that there is no better time -than "now," when Monica looked up with a merry -word about the difficulty she was experiencing with -her plate, and in a moment more the article in -question had slipped out of her grasp, and was -lying in fragments on the ground, some six or seven -feet below.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>All hope of a further </span><em class="italics">tête-à-tête</em><span> was prevented by -the contretemps; and when peace reigned again, -Monica was to be found seated amongst the others, -in case, next time, she should let herself fall, instead -of her plate!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What were you talking about up there, Monica?" -whispered Olive, who had been extremely curious -to know what the young clergyman had been saying.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You!" was the very unexpected reply; and -that was all the information she could get, whereat -she was all the more puzzled. She had noticed -Mr. Herschel glance at her, while Monica was -speaking; surely she had never told him of their -conversation after the sermon! If so, perhaps he would -be trying to get a talk with her; and Olive was -filled with alarm at the idea, for her conscience -had been accusing her very loudly. However, she -determined not to give him an opportunity of -speaking to her alone, by never leaving Monica for -an instant, and, by that means, she congratulated -herself she prevented any more conversation between -him and her friend.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But Olive need not have been quite so scheming, -for after the whole party had explored the caves, -Mr. Drury and the two young men went off on a -tour of inspection, leaving Mrs. Drury and the girls -to amuse themselves close home.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Drury's suggestion that they should all sit -still for a little while and enjoy the beautiful view -and delicious breeze after the darkness and -dampness of the caves, was received with acclamation, -Amethyst stipulating that she should tell them a story.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Her mother, who was accustomed to a request -of that nature, demurred at first, but finally consented, -and they were delighted with her racy account of -a journey she had taken in her girlhood's days, -when a terrific snowstorm had kept all the -passengers imprisoned in the train, several miles -from a station, for more than twenty-four hours.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Monica followed next, with some particulars of -her early days in Burmah, culled rather from what -she had been told than from what she actually -remembered. And then Olive protested that she -was tired of sitting still, and proposed a search for -some way of reaching a piece of sand which could -be seen at a little distance along the coast.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Amethyst and Monica were ready enough to go -with her, but Elsa, who was no climber, decided -to keep Mrs. Drury company; so the trio set off -on their voyage of discovery.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Do be careful, girls," pleaded Mrs. Drury, who -was rather anxious, well knowing their zeal was -apt to run away with their discretion; "and unless -you succeed in finding either some steps, or a proper -path leading down to the shore, you are on no -account to go. I can trust you, Amethyst?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, yes, mumsie! We'll promise to be awfully -careful," the shrill treble voice called back, and a -few minutes later the sight of a handkerchief waving -in the breeze proclaimed the fact that a beaten -track had been found; and the two who were -left behind settled down to a cosy half-hour.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Elsa, who loved Mrs. Drury only next to her -own mother, squeezed up close to her, and the -vicar's wife put a protecting arm round the girlish -figure, for she had a very warm corner in her heart -for quiet, gentle Elsa. Then they had what was a -delightful, helpful chat to the young girl, who -confided all her hopes and fears about Monica and -Olive to Mrs. Drury, and was encouraged to pray on, -and look out for opportunity of service. The latter -remark reminded Elsa of the young clergyman's text, -and Roger's decision, and, from her own difficulties -and anxious thoughts about her twin sister, she went -on to speak of the future that now stretched out -before her favourite brother.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I think it is so splendid of him to want to be -a missionary," and Elsa's face glowed with animation; -"but I am afraid it will disappoint father a good -deal, and poor mamma will be </span><em class="italics">very</em><span> sad at the -thought of his going so far away, but she will not let -him know it, because she will be so glad for him to -go, really. I suppose, if all is arranged, that he would -not start for a year or two, would he, Mrs. Drury?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, dear, I expect not."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That will give mamma a nice long time to get -used to it," replied Elsa contentedly. She was -singularly childish in some things, and correspondingly -sensible about others.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Drury cast a shrewd glance at the bright -young face, which was turned seawards, and sighed. -She realised what even the elder Franklyns either -could not, or would not, dream of, that the gentle, -patient, invalid mother was fading slowly, but surely, -away; and she knew that the happenings of even -a year hence would have no power to bring either -gladness or sorrow to Mrs. Franklyn, who by then -would be in the presence of the King. But the -twins had no idea of it, and as Mrs. Drury sat -silently looking at Elsa, who was all unconscious -of the terrible sorrow in store for them all, she -wondered if she were wise in leaving the girl in -ignorance, for she could imagine what the shock -would be like, when the blow fell. She had talked -the matter over with Mrs. Franklyn, who well knew -upon what a slender thread her life hung, and had -urged her to let her children be prepared for the -inevitable; but their mother had pleaded their youth, -and said it would be time enough later on to break -the news to them, and Mrs. Drury had no choice but -to be silent, although she did not agree with her -friend.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Elsa, who had been indulging in the pleasantest -daydreams, roused herself to find her companion -beginning to look anxiously in the direction in which -the girls had gone, for time was getting on, and they -ought to have been returning by then.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is half-past three, Elsa," she said, and there -was a ring of real concern in her voice; "it is careless -of them to have been so long, for we must soon -think about preparing for home. Can you see any -signs of them? Your eyes are younger than mine."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But Elsa was obliged to confess that she could -not, even though she mounted with some trepidation -to the top of a huge boulder in order to get a -more extended view.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We would go and look for them," went on the -vicar's wife, "only it is hardly safe to leave the -bicycles, and all our things. I am vexed with them -for staying away so long."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Shall I run along the cliff and see if I can -find them?" suggested Elsa, who was not without -anxiety about the missing trio herself. "I could -go very quickly, if you would not mind staying -here with our belongings."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Perhaps you would be able to see them, Elsa, -and then call to them to return at once. But don't -go far, dear," said Mrs. Drury, now really worried -about the absentees.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"If you would go on packing up, we will all try -to be back by the time you are ready," said Elsa, -with a cheeriness she was far from feeling, as she -hurried off.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="don-t-persuade-me-not-to-any-more"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XVII.</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">"DON'T PERSUADE ME NOT TO, ANY MORE."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Meanwhile, how had the missing trio been -spending their time?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>With delight, after walking about a quarter of a -mile along the cliff, they found some old, uneven -steps leading down to its base. They were very -unsafe-looking, as several were missing at intervals; -but, neither of the three girls being troubled with -nerves, they proceeded to descend cautiously. -Amethyst was the last to climb down, and it was -her white handkerchief, fluttering in the breeze, -which Mrs. Drury and Elsa had seen.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I say, girls, mind how you get down here," cried -Monica, who was leader. "It's an awful stretch." And -she dropped a distance of several feet, to -gain a foothold on a lower step.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It's a good thing we have a gymnasium at -school," said Olive, who had lost a considerable -amount of breath over her scrambling; "that -kind of practice helps one in experiences of this sort."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, Olive, I can't possibly get down there, my -legs won't reach!" And Amethyst looked hopelessly -at the long distance between the step she -was on and the next one below.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Drop down, you'll be all right," said both the girls -encouragingly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, I couldn't, I should fall!" cried the smaller -girl, a spice of fear in the shrill tones.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, come along! Don't be a coward, Thistle!" -said Olive contemptuously. "Here, I'll give you -a hand."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Either the hand or the sneer had the desired -effect, for Amethyst was a plucky little girl really; -and in another moment she was landed safely on -the lower step.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>That proved to be the worst difficulty, and -eventually, the shore was reached without further -trouble.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I wish Jack was here; he would like a race along -this sand, poor old chap," said Monica, whose one -sorrow had been the leaving of her devoted dog -behind.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, isn't it jolly down here, and not a soul to -be seen," cried Olive. "I wonder if there are any -shells about?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A search was instituted, and a collection of various -kinds quickly gathered together, and tied up in a -handkerchief. Then paddling was proposed, and a -merry time ensued of splashing about, off and on -the large flat rocks with which the sand was thickly -studded at that particular spot.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What's the time, Monica?" Amethyst enquired -at length.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why, past three already," was the horrified reply; -"how quickly the time has flown! We must give -this up, girls, and get our shoes and stockings on."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The drying process was accomplished as -satisfactorily as was compatible with only two very -minute handkerchiefs, and seizing the bundle of -shells, the girls reluctantly bade farewell to the -charming and secluded little cove.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I vote we find some other way up the cliff," -suggested Monica; and the idea was received with -acclamation by Olive, on account of variety, also -by Amethyst, who thought any other means would -be preferable to the last.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There's no other way nearer the caves," said -Olive, as her glance swept the dangerous-looking -rocky cliffs, which seemed to be almost perpendicular. -"But perhaps if we go a little further on we shall -find some better steps."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They walked along the sands some little distance, -eagerly scanning the cliffs, but alas! no other steps -were to be seen anywhere. However, the cliff seemed -to be more sloping, and not quite so forbidding-looking, -and Olive declared that she could see what -looked like a pathway, running zig-zag upwards.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Let's try it," she said, and leading the way, -she began scrambling up the rocky cliff.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Monica followed suit, and Amethyst, determined -not to be thought cowardly again, tried her very -hardest to keep up with them. But, partly on -account of her being smaller and a little more -nervous than the others, and also because they had -thoughtlessly rather than intentionally left her to -carry the bundle of shells, she made very slow -progress.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Thus it came to pass that she had got a very -little way up the steep incline, when a cry of fear, -and a quantity of loose sand, and small rocky -stones, falling about her, made her look up in alarm. -Monica and Olive had managed, by hook or by -crook, to get within fifteen or twenty feet of the -top of the cliff, but a false footing had caused Olive -to slip; a projection which she had imagined to be -firm hard rock, and to which she had trusted her -whole weight, having crumbled away beneath her, -and she had gone slipping down with it!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh!" Amethyst's eyes grew round with terror, -and she felt rooted to the spot; suppose Olive should -go on falling all the way down. How dreadful it -would be, and no one near to help do anything!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Monica, separated from her friend by several feet -of crumbling cliff, tried her hardest not to lose her -nerve, but an irresistible feeling came over her -that, if once she looked back, she must fall, too.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Are you hurt, Ollie?" she called out, while she -clung to a tuft of grass which happened to be near, -and tried to steady herself. But no answer came, -and fearing she knew not what she looked down the -cliff.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh! Ollie, have you hurt yourself?" she cried -again, in an agony of fear, for Olive looked so white -and strange, half-standing, half-lying on a sloping bit -of rock.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I--don't--know." The answer came back, slowly, -this time, in tones so unnatural that Monica shuddered -and grew cold. What had happened to Olive that -she should speak and look like that? Supposing she -should faint, then all chance of getting her either up -or down would be at an end. Monica did not know -that her friend was simply paralysed with fear, and -for the time being could neither speak nor move.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Try to hold on, Ollie dear, and I'll come down -to you," said the elder girl bravely, although she -well knew that it was certain danger to attempt -to descend that shifting, crumbling portion of cliff. -"Amethyst," she called out to the shivering child -below, "try to get down, and run as hard as ever -you can to the bottom of the cliff, where the others -are, and shout to them to come."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Slipping and sliding, Amethyst reached terra -firma once more, and set off running as fast as her -trembling legs would carry her; and Monica began -her perilous task.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"O God," she whispered, aloud, in her dire -extremity, "do help me now! Do keep Olive safely, -and let me reach her, and oh, please send some one -to help us quickly!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She did not know what made her pray, but some -unseen power impelled her to utter those few short -words in her agony of helplessness and fear; and -even as the words died on her lips she felt a peculiar -sensation of calm stealing over her, and her hands -and feet seemed to be guided to just the places which -would hold.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A few moments, and she had reached Olive's -side, and steadying herself upon a small, but firm -piece of rock, she put her arm tenderly round her -companion's waist, and begged her to tell her if -anything serious was the matter.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, Monica!" Olive murmured, with a convulsive -shudder which nearly caused them both to -lose their foothold, "I am so frightened! I looked -down as I fell, and it seemed as if I </span><em class="italics">must</em><span> go rolling -all the way down to the bottom, and if I had.... -Oh, Monica, I should have been killed, I know I -should!" And Olive burst into tears.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Don't cry, dear," said Monica, soothingly; "if -we can manage to hold on until help comes, we shall -be all right. I--have asked--God to let us both be -saved, Ollie," she added, in a lower tone, "and--I -believe He will."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, Monica," wailed Olive, as she clung to her -friend, "I tried so hard to pray when I felt myself -falling, but I </span><em class="italics">couldn't</em><span>! And then I remembered all -I said last Sunday morning, and it seemed as if -God was punishing me for my wickedness, by giving -me no more chance."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't think He is like that," said Monica. "I -think He loves us too much. I am sure I have -heard something about Him not wanting anybody -to perish. I am going to try to serve Him after -this, Olive, so don't persuade me not to, any more."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, I won't! I am so miserable. I would -rather be good, too, but I can't!" cried the unhappy -girl, who had caught a glimpse of her real self -during those moments of agonised suspense.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I will try to help you, dear, but I shan't know -quite what to do myself," said Monica; "but if God -hears our prayers, and lets us get rescued, it would -be mean not to try to please Him after that."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He may hear your prayers," was Olive's desponding -reply, "but I </span><em class="italics">can't</em><span> pray."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Try, dear," whispered Monica, closing her own -eyes, and asking once again that help might be -speedily forthcoming, for she did not feel as if she -could hold on much longer. But, even as she prayed, -a voice calling both their names came floating over -the cliff, and Elsa's face, white and strained, but -with hope written all over it, looked down at them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Hold tight, Monica and Olive, just for a minute -more. Mr. Herschel is coming down to help you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And in a moment more, the young clergyman, -his body encircled by a stout rope, which was -secured at the other end to the stump of a tree -on the cliff path above, climbed carefully but -quickly down to them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Thank God, we were near at hand!" he said, as -he realised the spent condition both girls were in; -"but you will soon be safe now."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Please take Olive first," urged Monica, and Leslie, -filled with admiration for the pluck and unselfishness -the girl displayed, made his way cautiously to the -summit, half-leading, half-carrying the almost helpless -Olive, the rope which was slowly pulled up as he -neared the top, affording him a sense of security.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was the work of a very few moments to lay his -burden down upon the short heather, to be tenderly -cared for by Elsa, and to return for her companion. -Marcus eagerly suggested that he should take a turn, -but Leslie waved him back, saying: "No, no, Drury; -you do the holding, that's the hardest, really," and -was scrambling down again before he could be -gainsaid.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Your friend is safe," he said, as he reached -Monica's side, and at his words a tinge of colour -appeared in her face, which was white even to the -lips, but quite calm. "You're not afraid to trust -yourself to me?" he added, more as an assertion than -a question, for he had observed, with satisfaction, that -Monica had heaved a little sigh of content as she felt -herself supported by his strong arm.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, oh! no," she whispered, and a smile, pathetic -in its wanness, illumined the girlish features, causing -the young clergyman's heart to beat strangely, in -a fashion hitherto unknown to him. Then she -nerved herself for the necessary climb, which was -accomplished in silence, and neither of the couple -was sorry when the brow of the cliff was eventually -reached in safety, and Marcus cried: "Bravo!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I can never, never thank you enough, Mr. Herschel," -Monica murmured, as Leslie gently pushed -her to a heather-covered mound, and, bidding her rest -a bit, threw himself on the grass beside her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Please say no more," he entreated earnestly, "it -was a mere nothing; I have always been a climber. -But I am afraid this afternoon's mishap will cause -you to have unpleasant recollections of Gullane -Head."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A happy little smile played about Monica's lips. -"No, indeed, I shall always be glad----" she began, -earnestly; but before she could finish her sentence, -Elsa, whose whole attention had been taken up by -Olive, came to express her delight at the happy -ending to what had seemed an almost unavoidable -accident.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"How is Olive? I must go to her," said Monica, -rising, vexed with herself for having forgotten her -friend, even for a moment.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"She is feeling more herself now," replied Elsa, -"but I don't believe she can walk a step, her legs -tremble so, she says. And I don't know how we -shall get back to Mrs. Drury," and Elsa looked -troubled.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We'll manage that," said Marcus, cheerfully. -"Come on, Herschel, let's make a bandy chair, as -the youngsters call it, and carry her between us."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Olive demurred feebly, but it was very palpable -when she tried to stand that she was far too -exhausted to walk, so without more ado the two -young men bore her off, Monica and Elsa bringing -up the rear.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The former was glad to slip her arm in Elsa's, for -she felt surprisingly shaky, and as they walked along -the heather-grown cliff path, Monica learned how -it was that Elsa had procured help; a question she -had been longing to ask.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was soon explained--Elsa, going in search of -the belated trio, had met Marcus and his friend -leisurely strolling along the cliff, but not near enough -to the edge to see what was happening. Fearing -she knew not what, but instinctively feeling that they -were in danger of some kind, Elsa told her fears -to the young fellows, who at once proceeded to help -in the search.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>With long strides they made for the cliff-side, in -order to scan the shore, and were horrified to see -the perilous position the two girls were in, less than -twenty-five feet below them. A fisherman's little -shanty, presumably used in connection with lobster -catching, close at hand, was hastily ransacked, and a -stout coil of rope produced with intense satisfaction; -and while young Herschel fastened on the -rope, Elsa had encouraged the girls with words of hope.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What </span><em class="italics">will</em><span> Mrs. Drury be thinking?" queried -Monica, as they neared the Gullane Caves, following -closely in the wake of the young men, who were still -carrying their burden. "Oh, dear, what a lot of -anxiety I do give people!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't think you must blame yourself specially, -Monica dear," said Elsa gently; "you all seem -to have agreed to attempt the climb together."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It didn't really look difficult; not anything like -so bad as the steps would have been to get up; and -we should have reached the top all right if Olive -hadn't slipped and lost all her nerve. Oh, there are -Mr. and Mrs. Drury. They are looking </span><em class="italics">so</em><span> worried," -added Monica; "and Amethyst has actually got -up to them. How </span><em class="italics">did</em><span> she do it?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was some little time before everybody knew just -what had happened to everybody else; but eventually -all was explained, and expressions of thankfulness -were heard that the results were no worse than -they were.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I was getting dreadfully frightened about you -all," said Mrs. Drury, whose face still bore traces -of the anxiety she had passed through, "especially -when Elsa had been gone some time. I was thankful -to find Mr. Drury close at hand; but I had no -sooner told him what had been happening during -his absence, than we heard shouts, and descried -Amethyst down on the sands below, trying to tell -us something, but what it was we could not hear, -on account of the wind. However, in a very few -moments Mr. Drury had gone down the steps and -helped her up, and just as she had made us realise the -danger you girls were in, we were immensely relieved -to see the cavalcade approaching. It has been a -merciful escape." And Mrs. Drury shuddered as she -thought of what the result of their foolhardiness -might have been, but for God's providential care.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Now, what shall we do for this girlie?" she -enquired tenderly, as she endeavoured to improve -Olive's dishevelled appearance, without much success, -for both she and Monica were covered with sand, -which no amount of rubbing would remove from -their clothes. "Shall we drive to the coastguard -station and get some tea; or will you have some -lemonade and cake that was left from lunch, and -get off home as quickly as we can? The waggonette -is here."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>All were unanimously of opinion that the second -proposal was most to their taste, and in a very short -time the party set off homewards, the horse, well -knowing he had his head turned towards his stable, -going at a brisk trot.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Olive, whom they made as comfortable as they -could with cloaks and a large rug, seemed powerless -to talk or exert herself in any way; indeed, her -lethargic attitude somewhat alarmed Mrs. Drury, -who felt she would be glad when Sandyshore was -reached. But the motion of driving seemed to have -a soporific effect upon the exhausted girl, and with -her head on Elsa's shoulder she fell asleep, and did -not awaken until the waggonette pulled up at -Rocklands.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Are you very angry with me, Mrs. Drury?" -Monica asked penitently, during the homeward drive, -for that lady had been very silent, and Monica -could not but feel that she was displeased with their -rashness, as indeed she was.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Not more with you than the others, my dear," -was the somewhat grave reply.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"If you will forgive me this time, Mrs. Drury, I -hope I shall not go on being quite so troublesome -to every one after this." Monica spoke with a -quiet decision and earnestness unusual to her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Drury, who, of course, knew nothing of the -new and unwonted thoughts passing through the -mind of the girl beside her, was touched by her -remark, but thought it would be a good place to say -a word of caution.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I daresay you do feel, now, as if you would not -willingly cause trouble and anxiety to your friends -by your thoughtlessness, just as present. But it is -not enough to </span><em class="italics">mean</em><span> well, Monica; we always fail -to keep our resolutions if we make them in our own -strength."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Her eyes sought those of the girl who sat beside -her, and something that she read in them told her -what had happened, even before Monica diffidently -whispered the good news.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The vicar's wife bent and kissed the earnest face, -with glad tears in her eyes, as she murmured: "May -God bless and keep you always, my child."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Amethyst, turning round from her seat on the -box, where she had been amusing the old coachman -with her chatter, was amazed at what she saw, and -looked curiously at Monica. But her mother, merely -saying quietly: "Monica has some news to tell you -another time," turned the conversation into a fresh -channel.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Elsa, who had caught a word or two now and -then, as she sat silently supporting her sleeping -sister, flashed a radiant look at Monica, which was -acknowledged by a loving little smile; and the -young girl's heart was almost overwhelmed with -joy at this fresh answer to prayer.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="i-expect-it-will-be-rather-slow-and-pokey"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XVIII.</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">"I EXPECT IT WILL BE RATHER SLOW AND--POKEY!"</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Olive, whose nervous system had received a -severe shock, did not regain her usual strength -for some days, and in accordance with the doctor's -advice (for Mrs. Beauchamp had hastily sent for a -medical man) was compelled to take things very -quietly during the remainder of their stay at -Sandyshore.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was quite a new experience for the high-spirited, -romping girl to be cut off from the pursuits that -they had all been accustomed to, and a not altogether -pleasant one. But at first she felt totally unable to -join Monica and Elsa at their bathing or tennis, -and was only too glad to lie in a deck chair on the -sands, and watch the others engaged in active -exercise which she seemed to have lost the courage to -enter into.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was a very quiet Olive who was Mrs. Beauchamp's -companion during those days, and but for the doctor's -assurance that she would soon recover her usual -robust health, both the old lady and Mrs. Drury -would have been very anxious about her. As it was, -they all strove to cheer and amuse her, as much as -possible, and Monica and Elsa were untiring in their -devotion. They never alluded to the episode on -Gullane Cliffs in her hearing, as any reference to it -seemed to revive the old, nervous fear which had -seized her at the time; but they often found her -looking with a sort of fascinated, and yet awestruck -intentness, at the white cliffs in the distance, which -closely resembled those beyond the lighthouse.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>One day Olive broke through the reserve herself. -Monica, who had been bathing, was sitting beside her, -her hair hanging dank and loose about her shoulders, -in order that the sun might dry it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Monica," she said, "you none of you ever say a -word about </span><em class="italics">that day</em><span>, but I am always thinking of it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Then I should begin to forget it at once," was the -brusque reply. "It is all over and done with, and -there is no need for </span><em class="italics">you</em><span> to remember 'that day,' -as you call it, any more. As for me, I do not wish -ever to forget it." And a happy smile overspread -Monica's sunburnt face.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, I know," interposed Olive hastily, who was -afraid her friend would open up the subject which -she dreaded. "But even when I sleep, I always seem -to feel myself slipping down, down, down; and I only -stop when I wake. Oh, it is an awful feeling!" And -the girl shuddered convulsively.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am sure you could forget it if you made an -effort to," was Monica's apparently unfeeling reply. -But she had overheard the doctor saying something -similar, and, to her strong-minded nature, Olive's -fancy seemed ridiculous. "You will never be well -until you do."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Whether Monica's sensible advice had any effect -upon Olive, or whether she really was on the mend -already, it would be difficult to say, but, at any -rate, it was noticeable that from about that time the -improvement in her was very marked indeed, and by -the time their return to Osmington drew near, she had -become practically herself again. Mrs. Beauchamp -was extremely glad, as she would have been very -sorry for either of her charges to have gone home the -worse, rather than the better, for the holiday.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, dear!" sighed Amethyst dolefully, as the -quartette ensconced themselves for the last time -in one of their favourite nooks, on a grassy slope -overlooking the bay--"oh, dear! I </span><em class="italics">am</em><span> sorry to be -going home."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"So am I!" echoed the others, and Elsa added, -"Except that it will be just lovely to see mamma -again."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"If it weren't for all of them at home," put in -Olive, "I should like to stay until school begins."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We should find it rather dull," said Monica; -"there would be no one left but us, for the Drurys -would be gone. I miss the Herschels already, -although they only went yesterday."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You got so awfully friendly with them after -the picnic," retorted Olive.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We all liked them," interposed Elsa, for she -saw a little flush upon Monica's cheek. "I think -Miss Herschel was a dear; but, of course, she would -naturally be most friendly with Monica, because she -is the eldest of us!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A grateful little squeeze told Elsa that Monica -was pleased with her for championing her cause, -as she said softly, with far-seeing eyes, "I shall -always be thankful that I have known the Herschels, -even if I never see them again. They have helped -me a great deal."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Olive, fearful lest the conversation should drift -in a direction she would fain shun, interrupted -the silence that had fallen upon them, by saying -hurriedly, and with apparent enthusiasm: "I say, -girls, what about that missionary meeting we are -invited to? When is it?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"To-morrow afternoon."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Shall we go? I expect it will be rather slow -and--pokey."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why should it?" queried Monica, who was -continually finding herself differing from her friend, -now-a-days.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, I don't know why, I'm sure; but missionary -meetings are always dull affairs. They read long -reports, you know, and tell silly little tales about -goody-goody children, who would a hundred times -rather put the one, and only, penny they possess -in a missionary box, than spend it on themselves." And -the girl laughed satirically.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, Olive!" expostulated Elsa, while Amethyst -opened her eyes to their widest proportions.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, </span><em class="italics">I</em><span> am going, anyhow," said Monica decisively, -for whom, since she had been influenced by Leslie -Herschel, every thing of a missionary nature had -great attractions. "It will be my first experience -of a missionary meeting, so I am going to find out -what it's like."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"So am I," echoed Elsa and Amethyst, and Olive -was obliged to fall in with the general opinion, as -she did not care about being left out.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The meeting, to which the quartette, as well as -many other girls among the visitors, had been -invited a few days previously, had been kindly -arranged by a lady living in Sandyshore, and was -to be held on her beautiful lawn the next afternoon. -Only girls, of all ages, had received invitations, and -no grown-up people were expected to be present.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When the appointed time came, the hostess, a -dear old lady of seventy or more, whose heart, -home, and purse were devoted to the cause of -spreading the gospel news, welcomed her young guests -as they arrived, and three, at any rate, of our party -felt their hearts go out to her as her kindly smile -and gentle words greeted them. Olive, who felt -belligerent, prided herself on not being so easily won.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They found quite a number of girls, most of whom -they knew well by sight, from continual meetings -on the sands or tennis-courts, already seated on -the chairs which had been carefully placed in a -shady portion of the lawn, and slipping into some -empty places, they waited for further developments.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Two ladies, standing under a pretty rose-covered -verandah, were engaged in conversation near a little -table strewn with various books and pamphlets; -another had just taken her seat before a small -harmonium, while yet a fourth was handing round -hymn-sheets.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Which do you suppose is the speaker?" whispered -Monica to Elsa, who was next to her, "the lady in -the nurse's uniform, or the one in black?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I can't tell, they both look so nice. The tall, -dark one in mourning looks clever; but I almost -hope it will be the other, she looks so sweetly pretty." And -both girls looked admiringly at the fair, healthy, -girlish face framed in its dark blue bonnet.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Soon a hymn was given out, in which the twenty-five -or thirty girls joined somewhat shyly at first; -this sort of meeting was an unusual experience for -the majority of them. But the easily caught-up -tune, sung so heartily by the lady helpers, inspired -them, and by the time the last verse was reached -quite a volume of sound rose from the youthful -audience.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>After a short, informal prayer, by the elder of -the two ladies, which was a revelation to Monica, -who had never heard a woman's voice uplifted in -extempore prayer before, the girls sang another -hymn; and then, after a few explanatory words -from the same lady, who they discovered was a -daughter of their hostess, the nurse stepped forward, -and began to speak in clear, ringing tones, which -could be heard all over the lawn, and which secured -the attention of all.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I was so very pleased," she began, "when -Mrs. Murray asked me if I would have a little 'talk' -with some girl-friends of hers one afternoon while -I was staying with her for a few days in this -delightful place. And I will tell you why. First, -because I love English girls; second, because I love -Chinese girls; and third, because I long to get the -former to become interested in their sisters with -a pig-tail, in that far-off land, behind the Great Wall.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"So now, while we are all here together, I want -you to listen while I tell you something of my work -for the last five years in China, and then I will try -to show you what you can do, </span><em class="italics">if you will</em><span>, to help -make the lives of Chinese girls brighter and happier. -First and foremost, I must start by saying that -girls are thought little or nothing of in China; they -are </span><em class="italics">not wanted</em><span>. And, although it is not really -allowed, in one way or another nearly one-half of -all the baby girls who are born in China are either -drowned, or murdered, or what is even worse, buried -alive directly they are born! And when I tell you -that out of every three people in the whole world -one is born in China, you can guess something -of how many there are. It made my heart ache, -often and often, to be in the midst of such dreadful -cruelty; and yet we must not altogether blame the -Chinese, for they do not know that our Heavenly -Father values girls just as much as He does boys, -and is grieved when they are ill-treated.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But though it is sad to think of the little babies -dying, they are really better off than many of the -little girls who are left to grow up. For there is -a cruel custom in China of squeezing the feet of -little girls up tight, by means of a bandage--so"--and -Hope Daverel picked up a strip of calico, and -deftly bound up her left hand to illustrate her -words--"until it hurts most dreadfully. Of course, the little -girl cries with the pain, but no one pities her, and -in a few days it is unbound, and done up tighter -still. Sometimes a mother will take a big stick to -bed with her, in order to beat the child if she screams -with the awful pain. I wonder how </span><em class="italics">you</em><span> would -like that?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The young missionary paused a moment, and -looked down enquiringly into the young faces before -her, which expressed horror at the recital of China's -woes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, the poor feet have to go on being squeezed -smaller and smaller, until after about two years -they are considered small enough to be pretty! -Oh! girls, you who love pretty things, think of it an -ugly lump, without any shape, tiny enough to totter -about in shoes like this," and Miss Daverel held -up a wee Chinese shoe. "This is a full-sized shoe -for a lady, and it only measures two inches and a -half! This pair has been actually worn by a woman -belonging to one of my classes, and she gave them -to me on purpose to bring home and show to you. -A girl's chances of getting married depend entirely -upon the smallness of her feet: they do not trouble -at all about whether she is clever, or handsome or -good. And she is married, often, as young as -six months old! and is taken away from her own -mother, to go and live with the mother of the little -boy, or lad, who is her husband. It is difficult for -you English girls to imagine such a state of affairs; -but unless you know </span><em class="italics">something</em><span> about them, you -cannot do much towards helping your Chinese sisters. -Once they are married, the poor girls have a very, -very dull life, if they are fortunate enough to escape -ill-treatment from their husbands. One of the first -questions asked by the Chinese ladies whom I go -to visit, in their dim, cheerless rooms at the back -of the house, is 'Does your husband beat you?' -and when I shake my head and say I am not -married, they look astounded, and say: '</span><em class="italics">So</em><span> old, -and no husband!'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But sad as their lives are, their fear of what -comes after death is far more sad. The women are -taught that there is no heaven for them, and all -that the very best of them can look forward to is -that, after numbers of future lives spent in torment, -they </span><em class="italics">may</em><span> be born again into this world as a little -boy! And they are so afraid of evil spirits, who -they think are constantly on the look-out to do -them untold harm: they even call the boys by girls' -names, so that they may not be thought </span><em class="italics">worth</em><span> -harming! and when the poor creatures die, as the -funeral procession goes along the road, imitation -money made in paper like this" (and the speaker -held up samples) "is scattered about, to propitiate -any evil spirits that may be near; while clothes, -money, and various other things, all made in paper, -are burned at the grave side, in order that the dead -person may have them to use in the other world. -And that sort of thing is continually being done -before what they call ancestral tablets, or at the -graves of relations who have died, lest the spirits -of the departed should come back to earth and -trouble those that are living. Millions of pounds -are spent every year, in that way alone.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Is it not all terribly sad? I am sure that you -agree with me that it is, and are wishing that you -knew of some way to help. Well, I will tell you; -there are many things you might do. I suppose -that most of you elder girls go to school; when you -meet your school-friends again, you can pass on to -them what I have told you this afternoon; and -perhaps you could gather some of them together -to dress dolls, or make little presents such as we -missionaries love to be able to give to the children -and girls who attend our schools, or come to us for -medicine. A little gift from England is </span><em class="italics">such</em><span> a -treasure; it would repay you for any self-denial -it may cost, if you could only see the delight on -the poor, little, dull faces, when they catch sight -of the doll, or the pair of bright knitted cuffs, or -the little cotton-box, that the </span><em class="italics">guniong</em><span>, as they -call us, is going to give them. And besides that, -you can give some of your pocket-money: those -pence and shillings which it is </span><em class="italics">so</em><span> easy to fritter -away on mere nothings, and things which do not -last. Oh! girls, which do you think you will value -</span><em class="italics">most</em><span> in the great day of reckoning which is coming, -the sweets you have eaten, the grand collection of -picture post-cards you were so eager to get, or -the Master's 'Well done!' which will surely be -spoken to those who have denied themselves for -His sake?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But working and giving are not everything--there -is praying. And if, as I do hope, there are some -here who have found a precious Friend in Jesus -for themselves, will you not pray that your Chinese -sisters may find Him too? There are millions of -them who have never heard His name, even </span><em class="italics">once</em><span>, -yet; and they are dying </span><em class="italics">so</em><span> fast, without God, and -without hope. So I am praying that He will touch -some of the girls' hearts here this afternoon, and fill -them with an intense longing to go and bear His -message, in the years to come, to the women and girls -in far-off China.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Now shall we sing a hymn, so simple that even -the smallest can understand it, and will you try to -mean every word?" And soon, girlish voices were -singing, with real earnestness,</span></p> -<blockquote> -<div> -<div class="line-block outermost"> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span>The fields are all white,</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span>And the reapers are few;</span></div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span>We children are willing,</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span>But what can we do</span></div> -</div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span>To work for our Lord in His harvest?</span></div> -</div> -<div class="line-block outermost"> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span>Our hands are so small,</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span>And our words are so weak,</span></div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span>We cannot teach others;</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span>How then shall we seek</span></div> -</div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span>To work for our Lord in His harvest?</span></div> -</div> -<div class="line-block outermost"> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span>We'll work by our prayers,</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span>By the gifts we can bring,</span></div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span>By small self-denials;</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span>The least little thing</span></div> -</div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span>May work for our Lord in His harvest.</span></div> -</div> -<div class="line-block outermost"> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span>Until, by-and-by,</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span>As the years pass, at length</span></div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span>We, too, may be reapers,</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span>And go forth in strength</span></div> -</div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span>To work for our Lord in His harvest.</span></div> -<div class="line"> </div> -</div> -</div> -</blockquote> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Just a few solemn words of prayer followed, in -which Miss Daverel asked that her young hearers -might realise the need of the heathen, and with -God's help seek to do their part towards satisfying -it; and then the meeting ended.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>While tea was being handed round by Mrs. -Murray's maids, Miss Daverel, who had noted -Monica's rapt attention, drew her aside, and after -a few whispered words, she and a little maiden of -not much over six accompanied the missionary -indoors, to reappear in a few minutes in Chinese -costume.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh!" cried the girls, as first one and then -another discovered what appeared to be a Chinese -lady and her little girl coming across the lawn -towards them, and they all crowded round, while -Hope Daverel showed them the beautifully embroidered -red satin coat and kilted skirt, such as the -wife of a mandarin or high official would wear, and -which Monica's tall figure showed off to advantage. -They all laughed merrily at the quaint little object -in mauve and yellow jacket and </span><em class="italics">trousers</em><span>, who, they -were told, looked just like a little Chinese girl, with -the exception of her hair and feet.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Tea over, all the girls were given magazines or -little booklets about missionary work, and Miss -Daverel showed them samples of all sorts of nice -easy things that are valued so much as gifts, not -only in China, but in all parts of the mission field; -and she gladly promised to send all particulars (and -a missionary box!) to any or every girl who would -write to her, and tell her that she had found some -others to help her, and they wanted to start working.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I say, girls, we'll make some things, won't we, -when we get back?" said Monica, as the quartette -wended their way homewards.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, yes!" cried Amethyst and Elsa, simultaneously; -and if Olive said nothing, her voice was -not missed. "And we'll get a lot of the High School -girls to join us."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I wish Miss Daverel lived at Osmington," said -Elsa wistfully; "she would show us just what to do."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, she is wanted in China," was Monica's decisive -reply; "she can't possibly be spared from there. -I daresay we shall be able to make the things by -her directions, and we'll send them to her to give -away."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Mother will help, I'm sure," said Amethyst.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And Lois, too," added Elsa; "she cuts out -splendidly, and makes the stuff go ever so far, -because she fits everything in so well."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is evident we must begin to save up our -pocket-money," said Monica, "because there will be -a lot of things to buy, and we want to give it all -ourselves, don't we, girls?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And again, in the eager assent that Monica's -words called forth, if one voice was silent, it passed -unnoticed.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="you-tell-them-lois-i-couldn-t"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XIX.</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">"YOU TELL THEM, LOIS; I COULDN'T."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"There is not likely to be any letter for us, -this morning, as we are going home to-morrow," -said Elsa, the next morning, as the girls -stood in the bay window, watching the postman -delivering his missives at practically every house -in the steep road which led up to Rocklands. -They usually filled up the few minutes before -breakfast, while waiting for Mrs. Beauchamp's -appearance, in this way.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I hardly expect there will be one for any of us," -said Monica, "unless there should be one from dad -forwarded on."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He's coming in our gate," said Olive; and a few -seconds later a maid entered, with one solitary letter -on a salver.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"For Mrs. Beauchamp, miss."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Very well, Ada;" and the girl withdrew, as -Mrs. Beauchamp entered.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Only one letter for you, grannie." Somehow, -Monica had slipped into the way of calling her -grandmother thus, lately, and the shortened form was by -no means unpleasant to Mrs. Beauchamp.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Just cut it open for me, Elsa, my dear," said the -old lady to her "little right hand," as she called her; -"while I pour out the coffee."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And Elsa, preparing to do as she was asked, -picked up the letter. But as she did so, she observed -the writing, and with wonder in her tones, she -exclaimed: "I think it must be from Lois!" and she -cut it open hastily, a nameless fear taking possession -of her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Thank you, my dear, I will see what it says," said -Mrs. Beauchamp, as she adjusted her pince-nez; -"possibly it is some arrangement about your return -home." She spoke quietly, but she felt otherwise, -for she, too, had a presentiment of impending trouble. -With eyes which seemed ready to devour her, -Elsa watched Mrs. Beauchamp's face, while she -hastily scanned the short letter, and something in its -expression made her heart beat with great thumps.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Mamma!" she faltered, with trembling lips, and -even Olive and Monica held their breath while they -waited for Mrs. Beauchamp's answer.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Don't be frightened, dear," she said kindly; "it -certainly is about your mother, who is not quite so -well. But your father thinks there is nothing to be -alarmed at, and hopes she will be as well as usual by -the time you reach home to-morrow."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Are you sure that is quite all?" Elsa whispered, -in a voice hoarse with emotion; she loved her mother -so intensely that she could not bear the thought of -her being worse than her usual invalid condition.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Quite, my dear; you may read it, both of you," -and the twins found nothing different in the few -sentences the letter contained.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I wish we were going home to-day," murmured -Elsa wistfully, while tears trembled on her long, -dark lashes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nonsense, Elsa!" said Olive, a touch of impatience -in her voice; really a sign that she was troubled, too. -"I don't suppose that mamma is very much worse -than usual, only Lois croaks so."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But Elsa, although she said no more, did not feel -comforted; and Mrs. Beauchamp and Monica stole -furtive glances at the sad, downcast face of the -gentle, loving girl, who had endeared herself to both -of them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Breakfast was a quiet meal, and all were glad -when it was ended, although the bright sunshine -seemed suddenly clouded over, and the girls' interest -in the various amusements they had planned for -their last day at Sandyshore had vanished.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They were in their bedrooms, getting ready for -a morning on the sands, when a double knock -was heard upon the open front door, and poor -Elsa grew white as death.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, Olive, perhaps it's a telegram!" she gasped.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What a grizzler you are, Elsa!" said Olive, not -really unkindly, for she was very fond of her mother, -too, though in a totally different fashion from Elsa; -"probably it's only the butcher or greengrocer."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But Barnes, with alarm on her face, came to -summon the twins, and Elsa knew that her -foreboding was true, even before she saw the fateful -pink paper in Mrs. Beauchamp's trembling fingers.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, don't say she's--dead!" wailed Elsa, -as she crossed the room; and Olive shuddered -convulsively.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, no, my dears," said the old lady; "no, no, -not that; only very ill, and your father wants you -home at once."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, my dear mamma, my darling mamma!" -sobbed Elsa pitifully, as she clung to Mrs. Beauchamp; -while Olive, with horror-stricken face and -dry eyes, read the few words of the telegram, which -ran thus--</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Mother very ill: girls to come home with all -possible speed."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, I wish I'd never left her! I don't believe -I'll ever see her again," wailed Elsa, in such -heart-broken, pitiful tones, that Monica begged her to -try not to cry so, and whispered words of comfort.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"How soon could we go, Mrs. Beauchamp?" -Olive said, in a strained, unnatural voice.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There is a train at eleven," said Monica, who -had been studying the time-table, "a very quick -one, which arrives at Osmington by one-thirty. -The Drurys go home to-day," she added, "but not -until the three-fifteen train."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, Barnes shall go with them," interposed -Mrs. Beauchamp, "and return here this evening. We -would all go to-day, but the packing could not be -done in time for the eleven o'clock train. There -is less than an hour, now; so, Monica, you help -Olive and Elsa to get their things together, and -Barnes shall pack their boxes at once. Cheer up, -my dears," she added, to the poor twins, who -were already collecting their books and needlework, -which were lying about on the different tables; "let -us hope for the best; and, very likely, you will -find a change for the better has taken place when -you reach home."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Elsa, darling, do let Jesus comfort you," whispered -Monica, a few minutes later, when they were alone -in the girl's bedroom, "I am asking Him to. And -He can make dear Mrs. Franklyn better, you know, -if it is His will." Monica spoke shyly; she was -unaccustomed to giving Elsa advice--Elsa, who had -always appeared almost perfect to hasty, impetuous -Monica, who had, by no means, found it easy work to -follow in the footsteps of the meek and lowly Saviour.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, Monica, I have been asking Him to help -me bear it!" said Elsa, "and I don't want to grieve -Him by fretting. But, oh, you can't think what -it would be like to lose my precious mamma!" And -the tears rained down the poor child's face.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No," said Monica, with unconscious pathos, "I -can hardly remember how I felt when I lost mine. -It is so long ago now, I have nearly forgotten it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Monica, will you go on praying, all day, that God -will make her better, but if He sees--the other--would -be best--for her--that He will help us bear it?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The words, so hard to utter, came falteringly, -and the elder girl, with wet eyes, gathered Elsa into -her strong, young arms, and while she pressed a -kiss upon the downcast brow, she murmured: "Yes, -Elsa, darling, and we know He will."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A hasty scramble to get all packed, a short drive -to the station crowded with visitors now making -their way homewards at the close of their holiday, -and then a few last words were said, after the twins, -accompanied by Barnes, had ensconced themselves -in one of the fast-filling compartments.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Beauchamp, at Elsa's request, had not -accompanied them, so only Monica--her sunburnt -face, usually so bright, now wearing a sad -expression--stood on the platform waiting to bid -them farewell.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The Drurys, Monica," said Olive, as she leant -out of the window just as the train began to move, -"they won't know. Tell them."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, I will," replied Monica; "they'll be sure -to see you to-night, and I shall come to-morrow. -Good-bye, good-bye," and with a would-be cheerful -smile she waved to both of them, but her eyes sought -Elsa's, who, poor child, was making a brave effort -not to give way, and make a scene before a compartment -full of people. It was a good thing, in one way, -that they had not the luxury of one to themselves.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Very few words were said during the long, long -two hours and a half which dragged wearily by. -About half-way, Barnes produced a basket of lunch, -which she had brought with kindly forethought, -and pressed the girls to eat something. Olive -managed a couple of sandwiches, but Elsa, who -tried to swallow one, felt as if it would choke her, -and gave it up after toying with it for a few minutes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Have this lovely pear, now do, Miss Elsa," urged -Barnes, with whom the kind, thoughtful girl was a -great favourite.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And with a pathetic smile, Elsa thanked her, and -felt refreshed after eating the juicy fruit.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The twins whispered a sentence or two now and -again, but for the most part the journey was -accomplished in silence. Elsa lay back with closed -eyes as if asleep, except that sometimes her lips -moved unconsciously, showing that she was taking -her sorrow where alone she would find real comfort.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Olive gazed through the window with unseeing -eyes at the country through which they were -passing, but her mind was in a turmoil. Could -this terrible and unexpected blow be sent by God -as a punishment to her for all her wilful neglect -of Him? Did He think that by taking her mother -away He would </span><em class="italics">drive</em><span> her to become His child? -Then nothing should induce her to become one! -These and countless other thoughts passed through -the unhappy girl's mind, and her heart grew more -rebellious than ever. She did not want to become -"goody-goody" she told herself, but it was too -bad of Monica to have left her in the lurch. And -then, she, Olive Franklyn, tried to make a bargain -with God! If He would avert the threatened sorrow -which overhung her home, and restore her mother -to her usual degree of health again, then she would -serve Him; but if not----</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At length the train began to draw near Osmington, -and the girls dreaded and yet longed to see a familiar -face on the platform, and to hear the latest bulletin.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They had expected Kathleen, or perhaps only one -of the servants, so that they were astonished to see -Roger striding up the platform as the train pulled up.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, Roger!" and the twins each seized a hand -and clung to him, "how is she?" whispered Olive, -for Elsa was trembling too much to speak; from -Roger's sad face she feared the worst.</span></p> -<div class="align-center auto-scaled figure margin" style="width: 61%" id="figure-49"> -<span id="oh-roger-how-is-she-whispered-olive"></span><img class="align-center block" style="display: block; width: 100%" alt=""'OH, ROGER! HOW IS SHE?' WHISPERED OLIVE."" src="images/img-255.jpg" /> -<div class="caption centerleft figure-caption margin"> -<span class="italics">"'OH, ROGER! HOW IS SHE?' WHISPERED OLIVE."</span></div> -</div> -<p class="pnext"><span>"She is very, very ill," was all he said gravely; -"I am glad you have come, she has been asking for -you both."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Barnes, who had been standing near, now came -forward, and, for the first time, Roger realised that -his sisters were not alone. With a word of thanks -he spoke gratefully of Mrs. Beauchamp's kindness -in sending the girls home under her care, and -enquired as to her plans.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, I return by the next train, sir, thank you, -which leaves just after two. I'll just have time to -get a cup of tea before I start. Mrs. Beauchamp -wished me to offer her sincere sympathy, sir, if I -saw any of the family, and she would like to know -the latest report."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Please thank her," said Roger. "My mother has -been most grateful for all her kindness to my -sisters."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And how is Mrs. Franklyn now, sir?" she asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Roger turned away from the girls, who for the -moment were collecting various small packages -they had brought with them, and with something -suspiciously like a sob in his throat, he replied, -"She is sinking rapidly; she cannot live many hours."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Dear, dear. I </span><em class="italics">am</em><span> sorry to hear that, sir!" said -the woman, with real concern. "Poor, dear Miss Elsa."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Hush! Don't let them hear. I have not said so -much to them."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And with a word of farewell to the maid, he bade -the twins come with him. Stopping only to give -a porter instructions about the luggage, he strode on, -and the girls had as much as they could do to -keep up with him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Fortunately, it was only a matter of a very few -minutes' walk to their home, so that they were soon -there. As they entered the gate, Roger glanced -furtively at the windows, for he knew his mother's -life was only just trembling in the balance, and even -during the fifteen or twenty minutes that he had -been absent, the call might have come. But the -blinds were up, and he breathed freely. In silence -they entered the old side door, and quietly, oh! so -quietly, Lois came downstairs to meet them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>What a different home-coming was this from the -one they had been anticipating. No bright welcome, -no merry words, no gay laughter. Instead of all -that, there was an awful hush and unnatural quiet -reigning in the busy, bustling household, and it was -all owing to the fact that their mother was lying so -very, very ill in the well-known room, beyond the -baize-covered doors, upstairs.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am glad you have come, dears," said Lois, -gently, as she bent and kissed the twins, and Elsa -saw that her face bore traces of recent tears.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, Lois!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Hush, darlings, hush!" she whispered, as she -gently pushed them into the deserted dining-room; -"we must not make any noise, it worries her so."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But she will get better? Oh, Lois, say she will!" -cried Olive.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Lois looked enquiringly at Roger; but muttering: -"You tell them, Lois; I couldn't," in hoarse tones, he -strode by her, and went out, shutting the door gently -behind him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And, with am arm round each of them, Lois -told them, in tender words, that God was calling -their mother to Himself, and that very, very soon -they must give her up. For a few minutes she let -them weep on unrestrainedly, knowing well that it -was best so. And then, with words of comfort, the -elder sister, who in future would have to act a -mother's part, bade them think of the peace, and rest, -and freedom from all pain that their loved one would -soon be enjoying in the presence of her Saviour.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As Lois talked thus, Elsa seemed not to think -so much of her own sorrows, as of the gain that -would be her mother's, and her sobs grew less as -she remembered the blessedness of those who die in -Christ Jesus.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But Olive, over whose turbulent young heart a -perfect hurricane of doubt was sweeping, refused to -be comforted, and wept on unrestrainedly. God was -cruel, </span><em class="italics">cruel</em><span> to take their mother away, and nothing -Lois or Elsa said would persuade her otherwise.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A hasty opening of the door startled them, and -Dr. Franklyn, looking ten years older than when the -twins left home, entered the room.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I hear that Olive and Elsa have come," he said. -"Let them get undressed and go to their mother -at once. Remember, girls, no scenes," he added -severely, and was gone without another word.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>After hastily removing their hats, and vainly -endeavouring by sponging their faces with cold water -to obliterate the traces of emotion, the twins entered -their mother's room. If they had expected to see -a vast difference in her, they were disappointed for -only a very practised eye could tell that Mary -Franklyn was nearing the gates of death. To the -twins she looked much as usual, the bright flush -upon her poor, thin face was so deceptive. She was -quite conscious and free from pain, and lay with one -hand in her husband's watching for them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My girlies," she murmured, and she feebly stroked -their sunburnt faces, as they bent over her, and -kissed her passionately. "I am so glad--you had--a -nice holiday--before--this trouble--came. Don't -cry--my darlings--Jesus is--very precious--and -He--will bring--all my dear ones--to me--some day." And -then she stopped, for her breath was coming -in quick, short pantings, and the pulse, upon which -Dr. Franklyn had his finger, was only feebly -fluttering.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Don't exert yourself too much, my dear," he -said tenderly, with anguish in his eyes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A radiant smile passed over the dying woman's -worn features, and she lay back, exhausted. "I -will--rest--a little," she whispered. For she hoped -to recover sufficient strength to speak a last word -to these two of her children and Dick, who could -not arrive for some hours.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But it was not to be. The gentle sleep into which -she presently fell, and which seemed as if it must -be doing her good, deepened into that last, long, -slumber that knows no awakening in this life, -and Mary Franklyn passed into the presence of the -King.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The sorrow and sadness in that household during -the days that followed can be more easily imagined -than described. Lois, Kathleen, and Roger endeavoured -to be brave and forgetful of self, as they strove -to comfort their father and the younger ones.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Dick, who arrived home a couple of hours after -his mother had breathed her last, was inconsolable. -He had adored his gentle, fragile mother, and it was -heart-breaking to see the erstwhile merry whistler -wandering listlessly and silently about the house; -or to come upon him, unawares, in some quiet spot -whither he had fled in order to indulge his grief -unseen. Roger, who had always been his chum -in a way that brothers seldom are, now became his -comforter; and it was during those sad, sorrowful -days, when the younger lad's heart was rendered -impressionable by grief, that he began to seek the -Saviour whom Roger had lately found, and whom -their mother had loved so dearly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Elsa bore up bravely, after the first terrible -outburst, and was very helpful in looking after Joan and -Paddy, who fretted for their mother a great deal. -But Olive seemed turned to stone. She realised -that in the bargain she had sought to make with -God she had been worsted! He </span><em class="italics">might</em><span> have -spared her mother; He </span><em class="italics">might</em><span> have heard her cry: -and she would have kept her promise if He had! -But He was cruel, oh! </span><em class="italics">so</em><span> cruel, to snatch her mother -away without giving her a chance even to whisper -that she was sorry for all the anxiety she had caused -her, and that she would be a better girl, in future, -if her mother would only say she forgave her. Both -Lois and Kathleen sought to break down the stoical -reserve, behind which Olive hid her real feelings, but -she always repulsed them, and they could only hope -that, in time, God would answer their mother's many -prayers for her wilful little daughter.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="keep-it-up-it-answers-very-well"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XX.</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">"KEEP IT UP, IT ANSWERS VERY WELL."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>A few days after Mrs. Franklyn's funeral, -Monica Beauchamp, looking very fresh and -dainty in a pretty linen frock and straw hat was -walking up the shady road leading from the town -to The Cedars, Mr. Howell's residence.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She had never yet paid the visit she had promised -on the day she sprained her ankle, so Monica had -coaxed her grandmother into dropping her in the -town, that afternoon, while she drove on to pay a -call at a little distance in the country. For some -time a plan had been forming in the girl's mind, -and a visit to Mrs. Howell was necessary before -it could be put into execution.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I hope Mrs. Howell will be in," she said to -herself, as she entered the white gates, and walled -up the beautifully kept drive, "and I almost hope -that Lily will be </span><em class="italics">out</em><span>," she added; for upon the only -occasion she and Lily had met since the unhappy -affair at school, the latter had passed Monica with -no attempt at recognition, beyond an ugly scowl. -At the time (it was before she went to Sandyshore) -Monica had felt very much inclined to return the -scowl with interest, except that she considered Lily -utterly beneath contempt. But lately she had had -very different feelings towards her would-be injurer, -and it was chiefly on her account that she was so -anxious to pay her mother a visit.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Howell being at home, Monica was ushered -into a huge and magnificently furnished drawing-room, -decorated lavishly with plush hangings, of -decidedly gay hues, and was warmly welcomed by -her hostess, who was delighted to see her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A quarter of an hour passed pleasantly in chatting -over the sprained ankle, long since well, and the -holiday she had enjoyed so much, and then Monica -broached the subject uppermost in her mind.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Mrs. Howell," she began diffidently, for she was -not quite sure how her proposal would be received, -"did Lily tell you </span><em class="italics">all</em><span> about the examination affair?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, my dear, by degrees we got to know the -rights of it, though she would not tell us till her pa -threatened to punish her, if she didn't speak out. -He was in a great taking when the notice came that -she wasn't to go back no more, and he packed her off -to stay with his step-sister, a very strict woman, and -poor Lily has had a very rough time of it. She -only came back yesterday, and wouldn't have done -then, only for her aunt being took ill; for it was her -pa's intention to let her bide there some months. -Now he talks of sendin' her to boardin'-school, but -where to he hasn't no idea. All our plans for her -schoolin' was upset-like, you see, my dear, by that -notice, and her pa was terrible annoyed to think it all -came about through her trying to do you a bad turn. -For, to tell the truth, my dear," Mrs. Howell rambled -on garrulously, "he thinks a sight of you, does Bob. -He would have wrote to apologise, but he couldn't -get Lily to say she was sorry, nohow. Oh! dear -me, what trouble that girl has caused us, and 'twill -be far worse when she comes 'ome from -boardin'-school." And the poor woman whimpered -distressingly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Don't cry, dear Mrs. Howell," said Monica gently; -"perhaps she won't have to go away to school at all. -Would you like her to go back to the High School if -she could? Do you think she would go?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, my dear, there's no chance!" was the dismal -reply, as Mrs. Howell wiped her florid face with a -tiny muslin handkerchief; "they wouldn't take her -back now. I only wish they would. I know Lily -would be delighted really, although she's said times -and times that she'd rather die than ever go there -again."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, don't tell her, please, in case it falls through, -but grandmother thinks I might write to Miss -Buckingham, and perhaps she would overlook it this -once and let Lily go back." Monica spoke earnestly, -and there was no hint of pride in her tones, neither -did she say that it had taken a good deal of persuasion -to get Mrs. Beauchamp to consent to let her write on -her school-fellow's behalf.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, Miss Beauchamp, my dear, if you only -would!" ejaculated Mrs. Howell, delight and -incredulity struggling for the mastery in both tones -and countenance. "But it does seem strange that -you that's been injured should be the one to do us a -good turn. I can't think why you should!" And -she looked searchingly into the flushed face opposite -her, as if she would find the motive written upon it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Monica was sorely tempted to make just a mere -commonplace reply, but she summoned up all the -courage she could, and gave Mrs. Howell the real -reason, realising that this was an opportunity afforded -her of witnessing to her new Master.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't know whether you know Him, dear -Mrs. Howell," she said, a trifle nervously, but with -intense earnestness, "but while I was away I accepted -the Lord Jesus Christ as my Saviour, and He has -forgiven me so much, that I can't help forgiving -everybody else. And I think He told me to show -Lily how I feel, by trying to do this. Oh, I do -hope Miss Buckingham will make it right! I almost -think she will."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, my dear, my dear!" said Mrs. Howell, -tremulously, in her eagerness clutching hold of -Monica's hands; "you've found some One I've been -wanting for years! My heart's just breaking for -want of peace."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And in very simple fashion, for it was all such -new and unaccustomed work to her, Monica tried -to feed this hungry, longing soul with the Bread -of Life. She felt so helpless, but trusting to the -Holy Spirit's guidance, she repeated a great deal -of the sermon which she would never forget; and -Mrs. Howell seemed to literally drink it all in.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"God bless you, my dear," she murmured, as -Monica at length rose in haste, having discovered -that the time arranged for her to meet the carriage -was already past--"God bless and reward you for -all you've done. I've been a sinful woman, all my -life, but please God this shall be the beginning of -better things."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Monica hurried down the hill, a song of thanksgiving -in her heart, and a happy smile flickering -about her lips. How delightful this new life was! -Not for anything would she go back now to the -careless, thoughtless days of the past, when she had -given others such endless trouble, and been so -discontented and miserable herself. She felt as if she -loved everybody, that beautiful September day, and -as if it would be impossible ever to displease any -one again.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But, alas! a rude stare, without a trace of recognition -in it, from the object of her solicitude, with -whom she came suddenly face to face as she turned -a corner, and upon whom she bestowed a radiant -smile, and cordial "How do you do, Lily?" sent -her on the rest of her way with a small cloud in -her hitherto cloudless sky, and a nasty little feeling -of wounded pride endeavoured to make itself felt. -However, she consoled herself with the thought that -Lily would soon have cause to think differently of -her, and hastened to the place where she had -promised to wait for the carriage.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But, unfortunately, it was just the other way -round! The carriage, with Mrs. Beauchamp in it, -had been waiting some time for Monica, and her -grandmother greeted her with words of displeasure.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am very much annoyed, Monica; you are -fifteen or twenty minutes behind time," she said -severely. "Richards has been driving up and down, -up and down, all that time, lest the horses should -take cold; they were so very warm. It was very -thoughtless indeed of you, to keep me waiting like -this."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am very sorry, grannie," was all Monica said, -as she seated herself beside her grandmother in -the landau; and it spoke volumes for her that her -voice was gentle, and her look penitent. Monica -of old would not have answered thus, and -Mrs. Beauchamp knew it, and thoroughly appreciated the -change, although she said nothing. Indeed, silence -reigned during the drive, and it was not until they -were in the drawing-room after dinner that -Mrs. Beauchamp enquired the result of Monica's visit.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You might as well write to Miss Buckingham -this evening, if you are still anxious to do so," she -said, when she had heard what Mrs. Howell said; -"there is no time to spare, as the letter will have -to be forwarded to wherever she is spending her -holidays."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And Monica gladly fetched her writing-case, and -began to write what proved to be a very difficult -epistle. Her pen had to be nibbled thoughtfully -many times before the letter was accomplished, and -then the result was not all that the writer could wish. -She was rather afraid that Mrs. Beauchamp would -ask to see it before it went; but, fortunately, just -as Monica had signed her name, in school-girl -calligraphy, at the end of perhaps the most tidy -letter she had ever written, the old lady roused up -from the little doze in which she had been indulging, -and bade Monica hasten, or she would lose the post.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I have just finished, grannie," and as Monica laid -down her pen, Harriet came to say that Richards -was waiting for the letters.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Have you any to send to-night, grannie? No? -Then there is only this one, Harriet," and Monica -breathed a sigh of relief as she shut up her -writing-case and prepared to read to her grandmother.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Not the most agreeable of tasks was this; for -Mrs. Beauchamp considered that it was "improving" -for her granddaughter to read aloud for at least -half an hour every evening. Monica was not a very -fluent reader, so that she was continually being -pulled up for leaving out commas, or for emphasising -quite the wrong word. The interruptions would -have been very trying if the book had been even -the least bit interesting, but as it really seemed to -have been chosen for its dryness and dullness, -Monica did not mind. However, she tried her -hardest, nowadays, to read carefully, and with a fair -amount of expression, and she was far less often -interrupted than she used to be. She did want -to be what Marcus Drury called a "whatsoever" -Christian.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You really begin to read quite nicely, Monica," -her grandmother said approvingly, as she finished -a chapter, and was told that would do for that -evening. "Your father would be greatly pleased -with the improvement there has been in you lately."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Tears of joy sprang to Monica's eyes, as she put -the book away, and then stooped and gave the old -lady a "good-night" kiss.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What has made the difference in you, Monica?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And for the second time that day the young girl -answered radiantly, but humbly, "The Lord Jesus -Christ."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Little Elsa said that was what it was," muttered -Mrs. Beauchamp under her breath, as she toyed -nervously with her eye-glasses. "Well, child, keep -it up, it answers very well," she added, in a louder -tone.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It would be no use for me to try to keep myself, -grannie dear," was the stammering reply, "for I -should do something wrong directly, but when I let -Jesus hold me tight, then it is all right."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Beauchamp made no answer, and, after -waiting a moment or two, Monica slipped off, fearful -lest she had offended her grandmother.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But the old lady sat thinking deeply for a long, -long time--thinking of the past when she was -a girl of Monica's age, and with as headstrong a -nature as hers--thinking of her married life, when -her whole time and thought had been given to the -things of this world--thinking of the unrestful, -unsatisfying present, and of the dark, dark future -stretching out beyond.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Little Elsa told me, once, that she prayed God -every day to bless me," she murmured, while a -tear trickled slowly down her cheek. "God bless -the child ... and me, too!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A week elapsed before any reply came to Monica's -letter, and she began to be afraid that Miss -Buckingham would not make known her decision -before it was too late, for the school reopened in -another few days. However, one morning, the -long-looked-for letter arrived, and the girl's heart -was overjoyed when she found that her request had -been granted, and that Lily Howell would be allowed -to re-attend the school if she wrote an apology -for her past conduct, and sent it to the head-mistress -without delay. Miss Buckingham added that it had -been a matter of regret with her, that one of her -scholars should have had to leave the school under -such circumstances, so that if Lily were really -penitent, the past should be overlooked; more especially -as the girl she had endeavoured to injure had taken -upon herself the task of interceding for her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I wish she hadn't put that last bit in," mused -Monica, "because that will very likely offend Lily -more than ever, because she will hate to think she -owes anything to me. However, I can't help that; -I have done what seemed right, and I must just -leave the result, and I am dreadfully afraid she won't -apologise. Well, I'll do as grannie suggests--just -send Miss Buckingham's letter to Mrs. Howell, and -then wait to see what happens."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A little note, badly expressed and ill-spelt, but -breathing gratitude in every line, from Mrs. Howell, -was all that Monica received, and in it there was -only a hope expressed that Lily would send the -apology, but no certainty. So she had to be patient, -and wait a little longer.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Meanwhile, she kept the matter quite secret, not -even breathing a word of it to Olive, for she thought, -and very wisely, that if the whole affair fell through, -it would be much better for no one to have known -anything of it. But Monica was not very clever at -keeping a secret, and if she had seen much of the -Franklyns the probability is, that in a moment of -forgetfulness she would have divulged it. However, -the girls met but seldom during the days that elapsed -between Mrs. Franklyn's funeral and the school -reopening.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Once, when Monica was in Osmington, she ran up -against Amethyst Drury, and, as they were talking, -Mr. Howell's motor car passed them, reminding the -younger girl of his daughter.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I saw Lily the other day, Monica, and she -wouldn't look at me. She walked by just as proud -as Lucifer. The idea! As if we were all to blame, -and she was innocent! I'm awfully glad she won't be -at school any more."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I daresay we should feel pretty much as she does, -Thistle, if we were in her place," was Monica's reply; -"she can't enjoy herself much."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Quite as much as she deserves," said Amethyst, -with decision; "horrid cheat!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, Thistle!" Monica's tone was reproachful.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, I ought not to have said that, I know," said -Amethyst penitently, "but I </span><em class="italics">don't</em><span> like her; do you, -Monica?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am afraid I can't say I really like her," Monica -confessed honestly; "but still she may be sorry -inside, you know, and, perhaps, if we had been kinder -to her at first, she would have been nicer to us now. -I mean she would feel that we did not think the very -worst of her," added Monica, a trifle lamely. She -knew what she meant herself, but had difficulty in -expressing it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am afraid the worst is about right," was -Amethyst's sententious answer, as they parted. And -Monica could not help wondering just </span><em class="italics">what</em><span> the girls, -as a whole, would say, if Lily should reappear at the -High School again.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="i-guess-i-ll-just-watch-you-a-bit"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XXI.</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">"I GUESS I'LL JUST WATCH </span><em class="bold italics medium">YOU</em><span class="bold medium"> A BIT."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"Monica!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, grannie?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I want to talk to you for a few minutes."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And Monica, without so much as a frown, although -she had just reached a most interesting part of her -story, laid her book down, and prepared to give all -her attention to her grandmother. She had no idea -that Mrs. Beauchamp was covertly watching her, as -she frequently did, to see whether she would exhibit -any irritation or temper at the interruption; but if -she had been aware of it, she could not have smiled -more brightly, or been more ready to give up her -own wishes to please her grandmother. Truly the -Monica Beauchamp of the present was a totally -different being from the one of bygone days.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The old lady noted her expression with an -approving smile, and could not help acknowledging -to herself that this grandchild of hers was fast -becoming very dear to her, and well deserved the -pleasure that was in store for her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I wanted to have a little talk about your birthday, -Monica; it will soon be here now."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, grannie," replied the girl, with sparkling -eyes. "Next Tuesday, the 27th."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And you will be sixteen. Dear me, how time -flies, to be sure! I well remember the day your -dear father was the same age," Mrs. Beauchamp -said musingly, and her thoughts went back to past -days for a few moments. But they soon returned -to the present, and she went on: "I wonder what -you would choose if I said you might have what -you liked for a birthday present, Monica?" And -she smiled into the eager, upturned face.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, grannie, I don't know, I'm sure, </span><em class="italics">what</em><span> I -should choose; there are so many nice things!" And -Monica turned over in her mind various things -she had been wishing she possessed. Most people -would have thought that she already had everything -that she could possibly want, but even the best -supplied of mortals can always do with "more." A -nice writing-case, some books, a new brooch--any or -all of these would be nice, and Monica was about to -mention them, when a sudden thought flashed through -her brain; here was the very opportunity she had -been wanting! If only Mrs. Beauchamp would give -her money this birthday to spend as she liked!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, Monica, how long are you going to be -choosing? Remember, I did not say I would give -you what you chose!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, grannie dear, I do hope you will!" coaxed -Monica, in persuasive tones. "I would rather have -it than anything else."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, what is it? Perhaps if it is anything in -reason, you might have it, but I warn you not to ask -for a bicycle." Mrs. Beauchamp looked quite stern, -as if the mere mention of the article brought the -past vividly before her, but there was a suspicious -twinkle in her eyes, which Monica did not notice.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, grannie, I will never ask you for </span><em class="italics">that</em><span>," was -Monica's subdued reply, although her active young -limbs literally ached sometimes, when she saw other -girls jumping on their bicycles and spinning off along -the country roads. But she had long since given -up expecting ever to do the same, for she knew how -her grandmother objected to women cyclists. "But -I do wish you would give me money instead of any -other present, this year, grannie, because I want some -very particularly."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What for?" asked the old lady curiously. -"Surely you haven't exceeded your pocket-money, -and got into debt like boys do; have you, Monica?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh! dear, no, grannie," and Monica's laugh rang -merrily out, "it isn't anything of that kind! But -if I tell you what I want it for, you won't say 'no,' -will you, grannie dear? It's nothing wrong." And -the clear grey eyes sought the old lady's earnestly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Very well; now, tell me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, you are a dear grannie!" said Monica -enthusiastically. "I'll tell you all about it. You know -when we girls all went to the missionary meeting -at Sandyshore, Miss Daverel, the lady who spoke, -said there were lots of ways girls could help; and -we four made up our minds to see what we could do." Monica -paused, and looked a trifle diffidently at -Mrs. Beauchamp; she was not quite sure what sort of -reception her words would get, for, as far as she knew, -her grandmother had no more interest in foreign -missions than old Richards, the coachman, had.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But the old lady nodded, and seemed in no wise -annoyed, so Monica took courage, and proceeded -with her story. "We want to have a sort of working-party, -just amongst us girls, with perhaps Mrs. Drury -and Miss Franklyn to help, and make all sorts of -things to send out to China, for the poor little girls -and the women who are so sad and unhappy, Miss -Daverel says. She has promised to send us patterns -and directions, and we want to begin very soon; but -you see, grannie, we must have some money to buy -dolls and print, and wool, and all sorts of things with. -And I </span><em class="italics">thought</em><span>, grannie dear, if you would give me -money instead of anything else, it would help us start, -at any rate."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"H'm." Mrs. Beauchamp said nothing in favour -of the proposal, but then she did not say anything -against it, which was fairly encouraging. Monica -tried to read her thoughts by scanning the face which -was slightly turned away from her, but could make -nothing of it. "Why should this undertaking be -started with your money, Monica? Surely it is as -much the others' affair as yours?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, yes, we all want to do it; but you see, -grannie, none of the others have much to spend, and -I---- Oh, I do want to give something that I shall -miss, if it is only a little!" And Monica's girlish face -glowed with enthusiasm.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, I had intended giving you something that -I believe you would have liked very much, Monica; -but if you would really rather have money to spend -as you propose, you may count upon having a -five-pound note on your birthday instead. I was going -to give you a bicycle."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, grannie!" Amazement, consternation, hesitation, -these, and countless other emotions played -upon the young girl's heart. First, utter astonishment -that her grandmother should ever have dreamt -of revoking her decision about cycling; then a great -desire for the long-coveted, and now possible machine -took possession of her, and something within her -said: "Here is the chance, at last, that you have -been longing for. It is a pity you mentioned -'sacrifice,' but still, it does not matter, you have your -choice, and your grandmother feels sure you will -choose the bicycle, that is why she urges you to -consider." Oh, how subtle was the temptation! -Only those similarly constituted can imagine what a -battle was being fought in Monica's heart. The -bicycle--or the five-pound note: an endless amount -of pleasure for herself--or the means to provide joy -for others. How hard it was! Monica felt that no -other choice that she might ever be called upon to -make could possibly equal this; for it was just the -one thing she did want, and yet----</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Don't decide hastily, Monica," said her grandmother, -seeing that she hesitated; "think it well over, -and tell me to-morrow which you have chosen."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Monica was glad that it was nearly bedtime, for -she longed to get away to her own room and think. -Once there, she determined to fight the matter out, -and a very sharp battle it proved, this first real -denial of self. For some time, it seemed as if she -</span><em class="italics">must</em><span> choose the bicycle, and satisfy her conscience -by scraping together all the pocket-money she could -muster (only a few shillings) and giving that to the -missionary cause. She had not promised the girls a -large amount, they knew nothing of the offer of the -five pounds, and never need know. Her grandmother -quite expected her to choose the bicycle, yes--she -would decide upon that, and perhaps her father or -some one else would give her a present of money, -and if so, that should be added to the sum in her -purse, and would provide quite a nice start for the -working-party.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Monica began to feel quite self-sacrificing, and -having, as she thought, made a final decision, she -proceeded to prepare for bed, her mind full of the -joy and pleasure that the possession of (and -permission to use) a bicycle of her own would afford.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Her thoughts were still running in the same -direction when she opened her little Bible and began -to read a few verses, as she had done lately. She -did not read according to any plan, she had never -heard of such a thing as a Union for Bible Reading, -so that she was just reading straight on through the -gospels, and finding out many wonderful truths. -She had read as far as Matt. xvi. 20 last time, and -the little ribbon marker was laid between the pages. -Her brain was still very full of the bicycle, and soon -she found that she had read some few verses without -having taken in the sense of them at all! So with -an effort she sought to fix her wandering thoughts on -the printed page, and as she did so, the words of the -next verse seemed to stand out from it as if the -letters were made of fire; at any rate they burnt right -into her very soul.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Then said Jesus unto His disciples, If any man -will come after Me, let him deny himself."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Oh, how that one short sentence, straight from -the lips of the Saviour, accused Monica! How guilty -she felt! How small must be her love for Him, if she -could, even for one short hour, think more of her -own personal pleasure and gratification, than the -needs of great, dark, heathen China! She fell -on her knees beside the pretty white bed, and -burying her face in her hands, she sobbed out her -sorrow and humiliation into the ear of Him who -never fails to hear His children's cry for pardon. -And as she prayed, a deep, sweet peace filled her -heart, and she knew that she was forgiven. Thus -Monica Beauchamp was enabled to triumph over -self, and the first real sacrifice she had been called -upon to make, since becoming a Christian, was -willingly, nay, gladly made.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The next day, Mrs. Beauchamp, not without some -misgiving (for she did not want Monica to fall short -of her expectations, though she would hardly confess -so much, even to herself), asked for her decision.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I would like the five pounds best, please, grannie -dear," was the bright reply, while a little flush rose -to the young girl's face.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The old lady's heart thrilled with pleasure, but she -evinced no sign of it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Very well, Monica," was all she said; and if her -granddaughter had expected to be asked for her -reasons, she would have been disappointed; but -Monica was glad that no more was said. The -experience of the night before was too real, too -solemn, for her to talk it over, and she was too -honest to have given any but her real reason.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>With a glad heart, and a bright song often upon -her lips, she prepared for school next day, and -Mrs. Beauchamp, catching snatches of the refrain every -now and then, marvelled at the total change that -had taken place in her grandchild. "It is simply -wonderful," she murmured, "wonderful! She used -to be </span><em class="italics">such</em><span> an anxiety, and now she is just the reverse. -I am glad for Conrad's sake; he will find a treasure -when he returns, if this condition of things lasts." And -the old lady sighed a wee bit doubtfully; but -then she had no experimental knowledge of the -Saviour who is "able to keep from falling," as well -as "able to save."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The little governess cart was brought round from -the stables punctually at nine o'clock the next -morning, and Monica jumped into it, closely followed -by Jack.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, no, poor Jack, you can't go with me to-day," -she said, as she tried in vain to get him out of the -trap; "I'm going to school, my doggie, and you -can't go there."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Tom, the little stable-boy, who had been holding -Cæsar's head, and grinning with delight at Jack's -persistence, volunteered to carry him back and fasten -him up in the yard.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Poor old fellow," said his mistress, as Richards -gathered up the reins, and the pony trotted briskly -down the drive, for Jack's whines and short, yapping -barks of disappointment could be heard for some -distance.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Pony's a bit fresh this morning, miss," remarked -the old coachman, who had all his work cut out to -hold him in, for the road to Osmington was a downhill -one. "Steady there, steady," he said, as Cæsar -tossed his dark-brown mane, resentful of some little -flicks of the whip.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"A nasty-tempered h'animal 'e is sometimes; -look how he bit your 'and, miss."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, that was all my own fault, Richards," -replied Monica; "I deserved that."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, he didn't ought to have snapped out at you -like that," continued the old man. "Belle and -Beauty wouldn't have done such a thing, never," and -he shook his grey head decisively, for "the pair" -constituted the joy and pride of his heart, and he had -never forgiven the introduction of the pony.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"They are always so quiet and gentle," agreed -Monica, and the old coachman, having subdued -Cæsar into going at a steady trot, rambled on about -the merits of "the pair" until the short drive was -over.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I do </span><em class="italics">wonder</em><span> if Lily Howell will turn up," thought -Monica to herself, as she entered the school door, -greeting one and another as she passed them on her -way to the cloak-room. There she found Amethyst -Drury, who informed her that several of the girls had -been moved up, but the quartette was still intact.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And oh, Monica," she added, in an excited -whisper, "Lily Howell must have come back! There -is that pink and green hat of hers; no other girl -would have one exactly like it, would she?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Monica, glancing at the pegs, and seeing what was -unmistakably one of Lily's well-known, gaudy hats, -was not as astonished or disconcerted as Amethyst -could have wished.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I think there is no doubt about it, Thistle," she -said quietly. "I shall be glad to find Lily has come -back."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Whatever for?" enquired the younger girl, in a -puzzled tone. Monica had been incomprehensible -to her lately.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But Monica was entering the hall by the swing-door, -and only smiled her answer, for talking was -forbidden. With one swift glance she saw that Lily, -looking certainly less defiant than usual, was in her -old place, and with a glad feeling in her heart, Monica -slipped into her usual position at Olive's side, -persistently ignoring the telegraphic messages that -Olive's dark eyes were continually dispatching, until -the head-mistress's bell announced the commencement -of prayers.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Every one of the girls was more or less excited -that first morning at school after the long holidays, -but the air of the Fourth Form seemed charged with -electricity. No one, except Monica and Lily, knew -how it had come about that the latter was again -amongst them; and even those two were wondering -just what would happen, when Miss Buckingham -appeared in the doorway.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Good morning, girls. I am glad to meet you all -once again," she said in the energetic, crisp fashion -peculiar to her. "I hope you have all thoroughly -enjoyed your holidays, and have now come back -prepared to work hard. Some of you may be -surprised to see one of your number here again, after -what occurred last term; but when I tell you that she -has apologised, and I have entirely consented to -overlook what took place then, I am sure I may depend -upon you, one and all, to do your share in helping to -blot out the memory of the past, and by your kindness -and consideration, strive to emulate the Spirit of Him -who said: 'Whatsoever ye would that men should -do to you, do ye even so to them.' I am not afraid -that this unaccustomed leniency will be taken a mean -advantage of, or I should warn you not to count -upon a repetition of it. Instead of that, I advise -you, one and all, to throw all your energies into -this term's work, particularly those among you who -will be candidates for the Junior Cambridge -Examination at its close, and I shall look forward to -seeing the majority of your names in the 'Honours' -List."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The excitement caused by Miss Buckingham's -words soon subsided, and beyond being the object of -a good deal of staring, Lily Howell was not interfered -with; and as the morning wore on, she began to feel -less uncomfortable. It had been a hard tussle to get -her to write the apology, and, but for her father -threatening to send her to live indefinitely, with her strict -aunt if she did not, she would have absolutely refused. -But now that it was over, and the head-mistress had -spoken so kindly, as even Lily could not help feeling, -the girl began to see how despicable her conduct had -been, and she was seized with a sudden desire to -prove to the whole form that she could be as nice a -girl as any of them, if she liked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Fortunately, Maggie Masters, her former ally, was -no longer at school, having left the neighbourhood, -so that Lily had every opportunity of making a fresh -start, and she took advantage of it. As the days -passed, the change in her was very noticeable--even -those who had always felt an aversion for her could -no longer find any complaint to make; she was -painstaking and persevering, and being by no means -wanting in ability, she bade fair to rival the most -clever in the class. But she kept aloof from the girls; -she felt, instinctively, that in spite of Miss Buckingham's -expressed wish, they were not willing to let -bygones be bygones. They did not twit her, or -indeed make any allusion to the past, but they simply -let her alone.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>All but Monica Beauchamp and Elsa Franklyn, -who from the very first day of the term had tried -their best to be friendly. But she repulsed them, -feeling convinced that they were only patronising her; -it was an impossibility for a nature like Lily Howell's -to realise that both those girls were actuated by the -same principle, that of "loving one another."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I can't think what you did it for," she remarked -to Monica, referring to the letter of intercession the -latter had written on her behalf, "unless it was to -make Miss Buckingham think a lot of you. Weren't -you mad when she never even mentioned your -name?" And the girl looked curiously at Monica, -who was a complete enigma to her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, Lily! I never once thought of such a -thing," she replied, in a pained tone.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, what </span><em class="italics">was</em><span> it for, then?" persisted Lily.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't think you would understand if I told -you," was the reply.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why not, pray? Ma said it was because you -had turned religious lately. Is that why?" And -Lily's light blue eyes scanned the other's face -inquisitively.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I have not turned 'religious' as you call it, Lily," -said Monica gently, although a flush rose to her -cheek; "I have only given myself to Jesus Christ, -and I am trying to follow Him. I </span><em class="italics">do</em><span> wish you -would, too, Lily," she added earnestly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My gracious goodness!" ejaculated Lily, -inelegantly, for she was completely taken aback. "I -guess I'll just watch </span><em class="italics">you</em><span> a bit, and see the effect -before I go in for it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Monica had to bite her lip hard to keep back -the tears that would spring to her eyes, for she was -tremendously in earnest, and Lily's mocking words -jarred cruelly. "I am afraid you will see more -failures than anything else," she said, in a low tone; -"but you must not judge of Jesus Christ by me. -He is the One to copy, He never fails or makes -mistakes."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Pa always says Christian people are far more -often 'libels' than 'Bibles,' and that's why he -doesn't believe in them," said Lily, to herself, as -Monica and she separated; "but if I'm not mistaken, -Miss Monica will prove an exception to that rule. -All I know is, </span><em class="italics">I</em><span> wouldn't have done for </span><em class="italics">her</em><span>, what -she did for </span><em class="italics">me</em><span>! So there must be something in it!"</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="i-cannot-spare-you-monica"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XXII.</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">"I CANNOT SPARE YOU, MONICA."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Tuesday, September 27th, dawned bright and -fair, as all birthdays should, and Monica, -girl-like, was full of curiosity as to what presents she -would have, beyond the one already promised.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Several inviting-looking packages were laid beside -her plate on the breakfast table, and also some letters. -Monica made a dash at them, hoping, not without -a good deal of misgiving, that there would be one -from her father.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There is!" she exclaimed aloud, in her delight, -just as Mrs. Beauchamp entered the dining-room, and -greeted her with the old-time wish of "many happy -returns," and bestowed upon her one of her rare -kisses.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What is there?" she queried, as she slipped a -sealed envelope among the other presents, and took -her seat at the head of the table.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why, actually a letter from dad, grannie, come -on the very day," she explained, in glee, as she held -it up. "And here is one from Miss Herschel, too, -but she does not know when my birthday is, so -that has only come by chance. Isn't that odd?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Very," agreed Mrs. Beauchamp, as she began to -pour out the coffee. "Now eat your breakfast, and -then you can look at your packages."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Either Monica's usually keen appetite was very -small, or her digestion very good, on that particular -morning, for in a very few minutes she expressed -herself as "quite finished," and then began undoing -strings and paper with eager fingers.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A dear little pocket Bible "with love from -Amethyst and her mother"; a crudely drawn, but -wonderfully life-like portrait of Jack, nicely framed, -from Olive; a beautifully-worked nightdress-case -from Elsa: both inexpensive gifts, for the twins had -very little pocket-money. Then there was a very -handsome collar for Jack, the united gift of the -servants.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I can't think who this is from," said Monica, -taking up the last parcel and hastily cutting the -string. "Oh, grannie, do look!" she cried, holding -up a plain leather frame containing the photograph -of Robina Herschel and her brother, taken together. -In the frame was slipped a scrap of paper, bearing -the words: "In memory of happy days at Sandyshore."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, I </span><em class="italics">am</em><span> glad to have that!" said Monica, as she -gazed upon the pictured features of the two she -admired so much, the fair, fragile girl presenting -such a contrast to her firm, resolute brother. "I -suppose it is in return for the snapshot which Marcus -took, that I gave them. But how could they--I mean -who could have told them when my birthday was?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Probably the letter will explain," suggested -Mrs. Beauchamp, who was not quite sure that she approved -of a </span><em class="italics">double</em><span> photograph. But a hasty glance at -Monica's innocent face disarmed all suspicion.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It soon transpired that Elsa had been the little -bird who had been only too ready to tell Miss -Herschel when Monica's birthday was; and thus the -mystery was quickly cleared up. Robina only wrote -a short letter, as they were all very busy getting her -brother's things ready for his voyage to Africa. He -was to be dismissed, among other missionaries, at a -public meeting in London in the course of a few -days, and would start for the Soudan almost -immediately after. "He sends you his best wishes, not only -for your birthday, but for always," the letter concluded, -"and says that you will find his good-bye message -in Colossians i. 9, 10. We shall miss him terribly, -mother and I, but we are quite, quite willing. -Perhaps Mrs. Beauchamp would spare you to pay us a -little visit after Christmas, while your holidays were -on. Tell her, mother says we would take the greatest -care of you!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Monica read the last two sentences aloud, before -she folded up the letter and put it in its envelope.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It would be nice, grannie, wouldn't it? I hardly -remember going away on a visit to any one."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We must see," remarked Mrs. Beauchamp, in not -very gushing tones. Strangely enough, the mere -thought of parting with this granddaughter of hers, -even for a week or two, filled her with dismay; she -had grown to be dependent upon her for company, -and the bright, cheery, girlish presence would be -sadly missed at Carson Rise now.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And yet, Monica must go out into the world, and -make friends and see many phases of life, of which -she was utterly ignorant now. So she stifled a sigh, -and added: "It is very kind of Mrs. Herschel to -invite you, and it would make a nice little change for -you, during the winter."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Monica, whose face had fallen somewhat at her -grandmother's first remark, brightened up visibly. -She </span><em class="italics">would</em><span> so like to go and stay with the Herschels, -and she had been afraid Mrs. Beauchamp meant to -refuse her consent, but now the prospect looked more -hopeful.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Two more letters and then I've done," she said -gaily, opening the envelope bearing the old lady's -handwriting first. Inside it was a crisp, new -five-pound note, wrapped in a half-sheet of notepaper.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, thank you so much, grannie dear!" she said, -as she fingered the rustling bit of paper which meant -so much for the cause she had at heart: her imagination -already pictured all sorts of nice things for -China which that sum would procure.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Are you not sorry now that you did not choose -the bicycle?" said her grandmother drily.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, grannie, indeed I am not," was the bright -response, for down in Monica's young heart was a -deep sense of satisfaction that that battle with self -had been fought and won the week before; for -however much common sense may say to the contrary, -the Bible axiom that "it is more blessed to give -than to receive" still holds good.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Now for dad's letter." With a hasty glance at -the clock, which told her she had only a few minutes -to spare, Monica tore open the thin envelope, and -with eager fingers unfolded the closely written sheet. -For a few seconds no words were spoken, and then -she lifted her face, which was full of excitement and -bubbling over with joy.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, grannie, he's coming home!" she cried; -"something quite unexpected has changed all his -plans, and instead of the regiment staying out in -Simla, it's been ordered home, and when he gets to -England, dad's going to retire. Oh, isn't it lovely! -Just fancy, grannie, he won't go away from home -any more, and he says he will then be able to look -after his troublesome child himself, and relieve you -of all responsibility. Naughty dad!" she added, -while a little thrill of pleasure ran through her at -the remembrance of the long letter sent from -Sandyshore, which would only just be arriving at Simla -then. "I don't think I'm quite so much trouble -now, am I, grannie? And I am sure you would miss -me just a little bit, wouldn't you?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She looked up roguishly, and was amazed to see -her grandmother's eyes were looking suspiciously wet.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I cannot spare you, Monica, I could not give -you up now," she said tremulously; "your father -must make his home here, as long as I live."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A sudden impulse prompted Monica to slip out -of her place, and give her grandmother a caress, -and a moment later they were locked in each other's -arms: the first embrace the girl had ever received -from the undemonstrative old lady. But it was -only the forerunner of many more; the possibility -of losing her grandchild had shown Mrs. Beauchamp -how intensely she loved her, and the proud reserve -of her nature tottered and fell before the flood of -love which came rushing in.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"When does he speak of coming, Monica?" she -asked, as she wiped her eyes, and felt if her dainty -lace cap was on straight, while Monica returned to -her letter.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He doesn't quite know yet, grannie dear," she -replied, glancing it quickly through, "but it might -be in time for him to spend Christmas with us. Oh, -isn't it almost too splendid, to think of seeing my -darling dad quite two years sooner than I had -ever dreamt, and then, not just for a little while, but -for always!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And Monica, gathering up all her packages, -rushed upstairs to get ready for school in a perfect -maze of delight.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She was already behind time, so that she could -only put all her letters and presents into a -half-empty drawer, to be admired more fully upon her -return. But she just managed to look out Leslie -Herschel's text, and some of the words, which she -never remembered having seen before, fastened -themselves upon her memory.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We ... do not cease to pray for you, and desire -that ye might be filled with the knowledge of His -will ... that ye might walk worthy of the Lord -unto all pleasing."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What a beautiful 'Good-bye' message," she -murmured, as she closed her Bible, and began -putting on her hat and coat. "I am sorry to think -perhaps I shall never see him again, but I will try -to become what he would wish, in case we should -ever come across each other in years to come. -Dear old dad would like the Herschels, I am sure."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Franklyns and Amethyst were quite excited -at Monica's news which she told them during -recreation, until Olive remembered that Colonel -Beauchamp's return to England </span><em class="italics">might</em><span> mean Monica -leaving the neighbourhood and school, too; but she -soon reassured them, feeling convinced that her -father would fall in with her grandmother's wishes. -Then she began talking about their work for China, -and told them of the five pounds which -Mrs. Beauchamp had given her, and which was to be -spent on materials. She did not think it necessary -to mention that it was in lieu of any other present, -and, curiously enough, it did not occur to the girls to -ask what her grandmother's real birthday gift to her, -personally, had been.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We must have a committee meeting," said Olive -importantly. She had made up her mind to enter -heart and soul into the project, but her reason for -doing so was very different from the others; she -thought, poor child, that by working hard she would -be able to drown the voice of conscience, which never -rested, and was always accusing her. "I suppose -we four will be the committee."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, if you like," Monica agreed, laughingly; all -this was new ground to her. "Where shall we -meet?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Mother says we can have my old playroom to -use just as we like," piped Amethyst, "and we can -have the working parties there, too."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Lovely! Splendid! Just the place."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>These, and other similar explanations greeted the -proposal, which was unanimously accepted, and -arrangements were quickly made for a committee -on the following Saturday afternoon, to be followed -by an expedition into the town to buy sufficient -things to start the work with. Miss Daverel's -instructions were expected to arrive at any time, -Monica having written to her some days previously.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The bell rang before they had finished planning -everything; but enough had been arranged for the -time being, and the quartette went into school with -very light hearts, and the lessons went well that day. -Indeed, Miss Churchill had a model class that -term, the greater number of her pupils being intent -on doing both their teacher and themselves credit. -Her only regret was that the girls would probably -all do so well in the examinations that there would -be a wholesale removal, and she would lose them all -next term! Of Monica she had grown particularly -fond. The story of her intercession on Lily Howell's -behalf had, of course, become known to the teachers, -though it had not been allowed to reach the ears of -the girls, and Mary Churchill admired the spirit -which had prompted such an action. There was a -subtle change in Monica Beauchamp, too, an -indefinable something which was rounding off the sharp -corners of her disposition, and the teacher could not -think what it was. Good and upright as Mary -Churchill was, she was, as yet, a stranger to Him -Who can make all the crooked places in the lives of -His children straight, and the rough places smooth, -or she would have recognised His handiwork.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>However, she looked on and wondered, as day -succeeded day, and the alteration not only lasted, -but actually became intensified. Not that Monica -became the least bit "goody-goody," even Olive -could never say she was that; she was just as bright -and laughter-loving as ever, and fond of every kind -of fun that did no one any harm. But her -companions soon found that it was useless to get her -to join in a joke, or laugh, carried out at some one -else's expense, and nothing would persuade her to -do behind a teacher's back what she would not -do before her face!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Lily Howell, watching keenly, noted all these -things, and being a quick-witted girl drew her own -conclusions. Monica had not proved to be a "libel," -and she felt constrained to admire the girl whom -she used almost to hate.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Sometimes the remembrance that Lily was judging -Christianity by its effect upon her daily life -prevented Monica from doing, or saying something, in -a moment's thoughtlessness, that would have brought -discredit on her Master's cause. But far more often -it was the realisation of His presence, unseen, but -very real, which kept her from doing that which -would grieve Him, for she had taken as her motto -Leslie Herschel's text, "Walk worthy of the Lord, -unto all pleasing."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Elsa Franklyn, who had been learning very hard -lessons lately in the school of sorrow, was a great -help to Monica. Indeed, when things went wrong -Monica got into the way of telling Elsa all about -it, and the quiet, gentle girl, who was so diffident -of any attempt at advising the elder one, yet seemed, -somehow, to straighten out the tangles in a -wonderful way.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Olive, whose unrest made her captious and pettish -at times, was sometimes inclined to be jealous of her -twin-sister, and angry with Monica for "taking up" -with Elsa, instead of being content with her alone, -as used to be the case. But when she expostulated -with Monica, as she did occasionally, the answer she -invariably received, was, "I am just as fond of you -as ever, Ollie, you know that quite well; but you see -Elsa </span><em class="italics">understands</em><span>, and you don't </span><em class="italics">yet</em><span>; that's why I -must have a talk with her sometimes."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And Olive, angry with herself for falling short of -her friend's expectations, but not willing to take the -same step as Monica and Elsa had done, felt that the -explanation was even worse than the offence!</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="it-s-all-surprises-nowadays"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XXIII.</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">"IT'S ALL SURPRISES, NOWADAYS!"</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"Now, let's get to business."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And the quartette, </span><em class="italics">alias</em><span> the "China Committee," -as Amethyst had playfully nicknamed them, -gathered round the large table in the vicarage -playroom and began to consider ways and means.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I've got a box full of patterns, and a long letter -from Miss Daverel," began Monica, who had been -elected president by virtue of her munificent gift -towards the Expenses Fund, and who in consequence, -occupied the "chair" at the head of the table. "Let -us look at each thing, and I'll read to you how it's -made, and then we'll decide whether we can -undertake to make some like it, or not."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Half an hour was spent in admiring and examining -the eighteen or twenty pretty and useful little "gifts," -any, or all, of which, Miss Daverel said would be so -acceptable to Chinese girls. Simply made children's -clothing, a gaily dressed doll, bright knitted cuffs, a -bookmarker, a woollen ball, a gay cretonne bag -(containing a thimble, cotton, tiny pair of scissors and a -pincushion), a knitted comforter, small Scripture -pictures mounted on card--these were some of the -articles the box contained.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Most of them are quite easy to make," said -Amethyst, who was keenly interested; "I should -like to make a work-bag best, I think."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I like dressing dolls," said Elsa, who was carefully -examining the clothes of the sample she held in her -hand.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, doll's clothes are awfully finicking to make!" -was Olive's opinion; "but I think I could paste -pictures on cards, like that. What shall you make, -Monica?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't know, I'm sure. I am not much good at -needlework. Perhaps I could knit a scarf, or some -cuffs. But we must think about going to market -first. Who will make a list of what we want?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I will." And Olive produced a pencil and paper -with alacrity, and by dint of many references to -Miss Daverel's directions, for quantities, a list of -requisites sufficient to start with was eventually drawn up.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Now about a working-party, Monica. When shall -we begin, and whom shall we ask to join?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was unanimously decided that they would meet -on Saturday afternoons, for a couple of hours, once -a month to begin with, and every fortnight -afterwards, if they got on well, and Mrs. Drury and -Lois Franklyn were to be asked to take it in turns -to superintend things. Several girls' names were -proposed, and seconded, as suitable for invitation, -and then Monica said she would like to ask Lily -Howell.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, no!" cried Amethyst, in dismay; "we don't -want her."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And Olive said: "I should think not, indeed!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But Monica, who read approval in Elsa's glance, -insisted that there was no reason why she should -not join them, and realising that Monica was really -the prime mover in the whole concern, the other two -were reluctantly compelled to acquiesce; Amethyst -comforting Olive and herself by remarking: "It's -not the least bit likely that she will come, that's one -good thing."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But contrary to Amethyst's expectations and -wishes, she did. And thus it came to pass, on -the following Saturday when the quartette, with very -varying feelings, were waiting the arrival of the -half-dozen or so of their companions who had promised -to come and help them, that Lily Howell was shown -into the playroom, the first of any to put in an -appearance.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Monica, suddenly overwhelmed with a terrible fit -of shyness, shook hands stiffly, and could not think -of a single thing to say. But Elsa came to the rescue, -and soon interested Lily in the work they were going -to do, showing and explaining one thing after another, -until the newcomer caught the infection, and was -very ready to do her share.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Indeed, that was the general opinion expressed -Mrs. Drury, who, at the girls' earnest request, acted -as spokeswoman, explained more fully the object -of the little working-party, and with happy tact soon -set everybody at their ease, having provided each -one with exactly the piece of work which she had -a fancy for doing.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For at least half an hour the tongues wagged -busily, and many were the questions asked, for the -work in most cases was quite novel; but eventually -all were settled, and then Mrs. Drury read part of -a book which Miss Daverel had suggested they -should start with--"Children in Blue, and What They -Do," one of the most delightful and fascinating books -ever written with a view to interesting English girls -in their Chinese sisters.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>By the end of the afternoon every one of the -girls had become quite as enthusiastic as even -Monica could wish, and when the new missionary -box had been handed round, it began to feel quite -heavy.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What are you going to do with all the things -when we have made them?" asked one of the visitors, -and Monica replied that they wanted to collect a -nice number, and let Miss Daverel have them to -take back with her when she returned to China, -in about a year; and if they had more than were -wanted for her, the missionary had sent the address -of a depôt in London, where some ladies would -gladly forward any gifts sent to them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Are you going to have a working party every -Saturday?" Gipsy Monroe enquired, as they folded -up their work. She was making a queer little cotton -jacket, and was eager to go on with it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Only once a month, we thought," replied Monica; -"we didn't suppose you would want to come oftener."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But every one insisted that they should meet every -fortnight, at least; and so it was arranged.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It </span><em class="italics">has</em><span> been nice, hasn't it?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was Amethyst who actually said the words, -as they put away the work and cleared up the room -after their visitors had gone, preparatory to going -down to the dining-room for tea; but all the others -were thinking the same thing. There were three very -happy girls that evening, at any rate, out of the four.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Amethyst whispered to her mother, in that hour -of confidences, when the light is waning outdoors, -and the gas has not been lighted within, that she -still meant to be a speaker when she grew up, but -she was quite, quite sure now that it would have -to be about missionary work, instead of temperance; -would mumsie mind very much? And Mrs. Drury -imprinted a kiss upon the upturned brow, and -repressed an inclination to smile at the rapidity with -which the alteration in subjects had been made, and -said that she thought perhaps there would be plenty -of opportunities for her to plead on behalf of both -causes, if her little daughter ever became a "platform -woman."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Olive slipped her arm through her twin-sister's, as -they walked home in the dusk, and talked more -frankly than she had done for a long time, and Elsa's -heart grew light about her. She felt there was no -end to what Olive could do, if once she started in the -right direction, for she knew there were immense -capabilities in her sister, such as she herself would -never possess. And Elsa, who, ever since the -meeting at Sandyshore, had had a great desire to -become a missionary like Miss Daverel, when she -grew up, but felt convinced that she would never be -thought suitable, began to hope and pray that God -would choose Olive instead. How splendid it would -be if Olive, as well as Roger, should some day take -the Gospel to the heathen!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Monica being rapidly driven home in the brougham -which had been sent for her, reviewed the afternoon -with girlish satisfaction. It was nice of the girls -to come, nicer of them to be interested, and nicer still -that they should be willing to meet more often than -they had expected. But it was nicest of all to know -(and the knowledge made her very humble) that she, -Monica Beauchamp, was being enabled in a strength -not her own, to walk along the pathway of life, in a -way that was pleasing to her Master and helpful to -others.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Beauchamp was very interested in hearing -all the details of the afternoon's work, and delighted -Monica by offering to knit some comforters and cuffs -during the long winter evenings that were coming. -She would undertake to buy all the wool herself, she -said, so that the "Expenses Fund" might last as long -as possible.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That's very kind, grannie," said Monica, with a -smile, "for I can see our money will soon melt. We -have spent nearly thirty shillings, already!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Out of your five pounds? Did none of the -others contribute anything?" asked the old lady.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, yes, seven or eight shillings between them, -grannie. But they could not do more: Amethyst -has very little pocket-money, I know, and I think -the Franklyns are quite poor." Monica dropped her -voice to a whisper. Not even to her grandmother -could she explain her reasons for thinking so; but -first, the barely furnished rooms at the doctor's, and -then the very, very simple and inexpensive mourning -which was all that could be afforded for the grown-up -daughters, as well as for the younger children, told -their own tale, which Monica, brought up as she -had been in the lap of luxury, thought the essence of -poverty.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The doctor's practice is not so large as his family," -remarked Mrs. Beauchamp, with grim humour. -"When is Elsa's birthday, Monica?" she added, -after a short pause.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The girl, who had been thinking deeply, started -at the sudden and apparently irrelevant question.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why, next Saturday, grannie, the same day as -Olive's, of course." What could have made her -grandmother ask?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Probably she looked her surprise, for the old lady -said: "You need not be afraid I am going to give -them five-pound notes to squander on heathen -Chinese," but her smile belied her words. "I was -wondering how much younger they are than you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Just over a year: they will be fifteen on their -birthday. It will be a very sad day for them; -Olive says Elsa can't bear to think of a birthday -without their mother."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Poor children," said Mrs. Beauchamp, in tones -of pity; then, as if to change the subject, she said: -"I suppose Amethyst Drury is younger again?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, yes, she won't be fifteen until next summer, -only she is so quick and clever that she is quite -as forward at school as those who are older. I -am much the oldest in our form," added Monica, -with a sigh. Her backwardness in many subjects -had been a source of trouble to her lately.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I expect you will know enough by the time you -leave school, my dear, if you make the most of the -next two years," said her grandmother kindly. "I -have no fancy for you to become a blue-stocking."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am afraid there is no fear of that, grannie!" -and Monica laughed merrily. "I am far too big a -dunce. Little Thistle will do the best of us all, I -expect, but Elsa and Olive have to work hard, because -they must earn their living when they leave school. -Olive wants to go in for art, she says; and she is so -clever at drawing I expect she will get on."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"H'm! it's a pity she hasn't a fancy for cooking -or washing," said the old lady bluntly; "either of -those occupations would be more likely to provide -her with food and clothing than dabbling about -with messy paints. I expect my little Elsa is far -more sensible, and means to be a home-bird."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, grannie, she will have to do something; for -Miss Franklyn can manage all the housekeeping. I -</span><em class="italics">think</em><span> Elsa hopes some day that she might be a -nurse in a children's hospital, but she has not said -anything about it lately."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Sensible girl. Now get the book, Monica, and we -will have some reading."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was not until the twins' birthday that Monica -realised what all her grandmother's questions were -aiming at, and then she understood!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What time do the girls come, Monica," asked -Mrs. Beauchamp, as they sat longer than usual over -their breakfast, there being no need to hurry, for -Saturday was a whole holiday.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Monica looked up in surprise, for it had been all -arranged before that the Franklyns should come at -eleven, and remain the whole day at Carson Rise, in -order that their birthday might not be spent among -surroundings which would remind them continually -of their loss. Amethyst Drury had been invited, too.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"At eleven, granny."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, yes, of course. How are you going to amuse -yourselves, Monica?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't know, I'm sure, grannie; we might get a -game of croquet-golf, or tennis, if the grass is dry -enough." And Monica looked critically out upon -the beautiful lawn, which was the pride of the -gardener's heart.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I have secured a new 'amusement' for you," said -Mrs. Beauchamp, her eyes twinkling with fun. "I -was going to say 'game,' but it is hardly that."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What can it be? Not badminton?" queried -Monica, all excitement.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, not badminton," repeated her grandmother, -with a smile. "I hardly think you will guess, so -as soon as you have finished breakfast we will go -and see it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I finished ages ago," said Monica, as she pushed -back her chair with alacrity; "I am curious, -grannie." And she slipped her arm through the old -lady's (a favourite habit nowadays), and they went -together to a large summer-house where the croquet -and tennis sets were kept.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Is it a small game, or whatever you call it, -grannie?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Not very small," was the amused reply, "but here -we are, and you can judge for yourself."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She fitted a key in the lock, and opened the door, -and Monica gazed in utter astonishment at what she -saw; for, resting on its own stand in the middle of -the quaint, octagonal summer-house, was a beautiful, -perfectly new bicycle!</span></p> -<div class="align-center auto-scaled figure margin" style="width: 61%" id="figure-50"> -<span id="monica-gazed-in-utter-astonishment"></span><img class="align-center block" style="display: block; width: 100%" alt=""MONICA GAZED IN UTTER ASTONISHMENT."" src="images/img-309.jpg" /> -<div class="caption centerleft figure-caption margin"> -<span class="italics">"MONICA GAZED IN UTTER ASTONISHMENT."</span></div> -</div> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, grannie!" Only an exclamation, but who -can describe all that was contained in those two -words? and Monica almost squeezed the breath out -of the old lady's body with the energy with which -she hugged her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There, there, that will do, Monica; don't quite -strangle me," protested Mrs. Beauchamp; but all the -same, she keenly enjoyed her grandchild's unqualified -delight. "Do you like it?" she added, as Monica -examined and admired the bicycle to her heart's -content.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I can't </span><em class="italics">think</em><span> why you have given it to me, -grannie!" was the answer, if answer it could be -called.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And Mrs. Beauchamp said she would find the -reason inside the little basket fastened to the -handle-bars.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The old lady turned away, and pretended to look -out of one of the little coloured glass windows, while -Monica read the few words on a tiny card which she -found:--</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span>"For an unselfish girl, -<br />from her loving -<br />GRANNIE."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>A lump rose in Monica's throat as she stepped -across the little summer-house and bent down and -kissed the face which only a few short months ago -she had thought so stern and unlovable. </span><em class="italics">How</em><span> -different everything was nowadays!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I didn't do it for a reward, grannie dear," she -whispered. "I never dreamt of such a thing. I </span><em class="italics">quite</em><span> -gave up all thought of the bicycle when I chose the -five pounds."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I know you did, my child," replied the old lady, -while she furtively wiped her eyes, which were -suspiciously moist, although she was smiling now; -"but you see, </span><em class="italics">I</em><span> didn't! And as I knew nothing -about these things, I took Mr. Bertram into my -confidence, and told him to choose just the right kind -and size; and I should think he has done his work -very well. Now you will have something to amuse -your friends with, to-day."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We shall have to take great care not to knock -it about," said Monica.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ah! that reminds me: Mr. Bertram advised your -learning to ride on an old one first, so I have ordered -Brown's to send a man over with one from Osmington -this morning, and if you like to spend a little -time in having a lesson, he can stay. I daresay the -girls would find it amusing."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"To see me tumble off, grannie?" cried Monica -merrily.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, don't hurt your ankle again, or anything -else," cautioned her grandmother; "I should prefer -to hand you over whole to your father when he -comes."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The next hour passed quickly, and then the -Franklyns and Amethyst arrived.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Monica, all excitement, took them straight to the -summer-house, not noticing, in her eagerness, that -her friends seemed quite as excited as herself. But -they no sooner saw the bicycle than Olive, who could -contain herself no longer, exclaimed: "It's </span><em class="italics">exactly</em><span> the -same!" and then it was Monica's turn to look puzzled.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>However, the mystery was soon cleared up, as she -learnt that there had been a great surprise at the -doctor's that morning, too; a bicycle, the exact -counterpart of Monica's, having been delivered there -addressed to, "The Misses Elsa and Olive Franklyn"; -and a little note attached to it stated that it was a -birthday gift to the twins, with love and best wishes -from Mrs. Beauchamp.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"How splendid of grannie!" cried Monica -enthusiastically; "now we shall have some lovely rides -together."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Won't it be jolly?" said Olive, who was beside -herself with pleasure, and Elsa's quietly happy face -was good to see.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Poor Thistle, you are the only one left out! Never -mind, you shall use mine sometimes," Monica said, -suddenly remembering that this new departure would -make Amethyst feel rather out of it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She was delighted when Amethyst replied with -glee: "But I am going to have one of my own very -soon. Father promised me he would get me one this -autumn, and he said the other day he had seen one -which was just what he liked, only a little too big for -me, so he has ordered a smaller-sized one. I meant -to have given you </span><em class="italics">such</em><span> a surprise."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I think it's all surprises nowadays," said Monica; -"how little any of us dreamt last half-term holiday -that we should all be riding our own bicycles before -the next one arrived!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We wanted to bring ours up to show you," put in -Elsa, "but Mrs. Beauchamp, in her note, asked us -not to. We were dreadfully afraid that perhaps she -didn't want you to know, Monica. But that isn't like -her, and it wouldn't have been any pleasure if we -couldn't tell you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I should think not! Dear old grannie, I can -guess why she said that. A man from Osmington is -coming up this morning to give us some lessons on an -old one. Why, there he is, and grannie too!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>All four girls crossed the lawn, and while the twins -were trying in vain to express to Mrs. Beauchamp -the delight that her handsome present had given -them, Monica and Amethyst spoke to the man, and -inspected the bicycle he had brought, and which -Jack was sniffing suspiciously.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The greater part of the day, first with the teacher, -and afterwards with only each other to hold the -machine up, was spent on the wide, straight drive, -which was a charming place to practise upon. And -if the quartette were </span><em class="italics">all</em><span> quite tired out as they bade -each other "good-bye," they were all agreed that it -was well worth it, to be able to balance themselves -and even go a few yards without assistance!</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="i-think-my-monica-deserves-the-v-c"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XXIV.</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">"I THINK MY MONICA DESERVES THE V.C."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>The autumn term sped swiftly away. In -addition to the school work, which required -a great deal of persevering effort to do as well as -the quartette aimed at doing theirs that term, Elsa -had her music, and Olive attended a school of art -for extra lessons in drawing and sepia.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Amethyst, who, as yet, evinced no great talent -for any accomplishments, so-called, had a little more -spare time than the others, and was therefore able -to go occasionally with her mother to visit some of -her poor old, or invalid, folk. These visits were a -great interest to Amethyst, who had a kind and -pitying little heart for sorrow and suffering, and -Mrs. Drury wisely encouraged her little daughter to sing, -or repeat a few comforting texts to the sad, or lonely, -or suffering, as the case might be. Poor old -Mrs. Robbins had long since gone to the "City bright" -of which Amethyst had sung to her; but in the -crowded and squalid streets of the poorer part of -St. Paul's parish there were many more who needed -temporal as well as spiritual help.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Once, Mrs. Drury took her with her to see -Mrs. Hodges, whose cottage was on the Disbrowe estate, -and as Amethyst entered the little garden gate, the -only occasion on which she had ever been there -before recurred vividly to her mind.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I wonder whether that little old woman is still -here, mumsie," she said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Hardly likely, dear, but you will soon hear."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It transpired that Granny Wood was there, -circumstances having caused her to make her home with -her daughter, and the dear old soul, now quite a -prisoner through rheumatism to her chair by the -fireside, was delighted to see one of the "little missies," -of whom, as her daughter explained, she was never -tired of talking.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"They was angels without wings to me, that day, -ma'am," the old granny asserted; "little missy here, -and her friend. But them other two--well, there, -I won't say all I thinks! My darter says I ain't -no business to bear malice, an' me a Christian body, -but I owes this last illness o' mine to that there -bouncin' h'animal." And the wrinkled old face -looked as nearly cross as it was possible for her -apple-cheeks and faded blue eyes to manage.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Amethyst looked subdued, and Mrs. Drury hastened -to explain that she was sure the girls had not meant -to be really unkind, and that both of them had learnt -since what suffering meant, and she went on to tell -of the death of Olive's mother.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Dear, dear; poor lamb!" ejaculated Granny -Wood, commiseratingly, all her animosity gone; "to -think o' that now, and me a-grumblin' at 'er an' all."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And Monica Beauchamp, the other one, you -know," put in Amethyst, "she is quite different now. -She tries to be kind to everybody, because Jesus was -always kind."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Praise the Lord, missy," cried the old woman, in -quavering tones; "then I'll never say aught agin' -either of 'em again; but I'll just keep on asking the -Almighty to bless every one of you, and make you -all blessings every day of your lives."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Amethyst and her mother walked home rather -silently, until they reached the spot where the bicycle -accident had happened that memorable afternoon.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It must have been just here," said the little girl, -as they passed the place. "I remember Olive saying -the motor was pulled up by that tree. It was a -good thing Mr. Howell went by just then, wasn't it, -mumsie?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, dear," agreed Mrs. Drury.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"</span><em class="italics">Such</em><span> a lot has happened since then," continued -Amethyst, who was in a retrospective mood. -"Everything seemed to begin with that half-term -holiday."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What do you mean, girlie?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why, mumsie, Mrs. Beauchamp used to be so -cross, and now she's the nicest old dear possible; and -Monica was nasty and uppish, you know, at first. I -didn't think I ever </span><em class="italics">could</em><span> like her, and now I think -she's almost too good to live, sometimes! And -Olive is nicer too, although I shall always like my -darling Elsa best." Here Amethyst paused, from -sheer want of breath, for her tongue always ran twice -as quickly as other people's.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Is that all, girlie?" put in Mrs. Drury, who was -much amused at the comparisons, but felt they were -truthfully if somewhat quaintly made.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, no! There's Lily Howell, just </span><em class="italics">think</em><span> how she's -altered. I don't believe any one would know her -nowadays who knew her then; she's so well behaved, -and speaks quietly, and seldom gets into trouble at -school. I'm so glad Mrs. Howell buys plain hats and -things for her now," Amethyst ran on. "I don't -believe she could help being vulgar when she wore -such hideously gaudy hats and dresses."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What has Lily's clothing to do with the bicycle -accident? You have wandered a long way from -that," remarked her mother, with a smile.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, mumsie, I haven't! It's just because Lily -wants to copy everything Monica does now, that -she is so much more lady-like. I think she nearly -worships Monica."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Hush, Amethyst! Don't speak like that, dear," -reproved her mother; "I can quite understand that -Lily feels she owes a good deal to her. I hope that -she will one day be a star in Monica's crown. I am -so glad that they have begun to attend St. Paul's."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Mrs. Howell and Lily were both at church -twice last Sunday, mumsie, and Mr. Howell was -there in the evening. I remember noticing him, -because I did think father must have chosen his text -on purpose for him, only of course he didn't, because -he couldn't possibly have known he would be there."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And Mrs. Drury, who had vivid recollections of -the intense earnestness with which her husband had -preached from Mark viii. 36, on the subject of -Eternal Profit and Loss, said, softly, as they turned -in at the Vicarage gates: "Father always asks God -to give him the right text to preach from, girlie, -and </span><em class="italics">He</em><span> knew just who would be hearing the sermon."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Shrewd little Amethyst had been fairly correct -in her rough-and-ready epitome of the happenings -of the last six months, which had certainly left their -mark on all concerned, and, in every case, for the -better, to a greater or smaller degree.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The missionary working-party prospered and -increased, and, by the time Christmas drew near, -the number of members had risen to fourteen; quite -a large drawer full of "gifts" had been already -neatly and carefully made, and the Expenses Fund -was almost exhausted! The committee began to -consider how it was to be replenished, and hazy -ideas of "collecting" (which they dreaded) or else -having a little sale of work during the Christmas -holidays, formed in their enthusiastic minds.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But they were still only ideas, when, one Saturday -afternoon, Lily Howell, who, upon one pretext or -another, had waited until all but the quartette had -gone, slipped a sealed envelope into Monica's hand, -and merely whispering: "Pa told me to give it to -you," was gone before the astonished girl could say -a word.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The excitement of the committee when they -found that the envelope contained a cheque for £10, -"To be used for your Chinese folks, and ask for -more when you want it," was tremendous.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"How splendid! Now we sha'n't have either to -beg, borrow, or steal," cried Olive. "It is a good -thing we let Lily come, after all."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And Monica, who remembered the opposition -which she had met with upon proposing Lily's name, -could not refrain from smiling.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Those were happy days for Monica: her school -life was most interesting, and now that she bicycled -into Osmington, instead of being dependent upon the -pony-trap, she enjoyed the ride to and fro immensely, -especially as either one or two of her friends -accompanied her most of the way to Carson Rise, on -the days that she remained at school until the -afternoon, for music or some other extra.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then the missionary work was a source of great -pleasure to her, and her enthusiasm was kept very -keen by long letters from Robina Herschel, and an -occasional one from Miss Daverel.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Sometimes, when Monica was poring over a -missionary magazine, or exercising her ingenuity in -making something fresh for the girls to copy at the -working-party, her grandmother would tease her by -saying she was "missionary mad." But Monica -would only look up and smile, knowing that in her -heart of hearts the old lady was well-content that -her grandchild should seek to help forward, even -in the simplest way, the spread of the "good news," -which had brought light at eventide to her own dark -heart.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And every day was bringing Colonel Beauchamp -nearer. Several letters had come from him, but in -none of them had he been able, definitely, to say -when he would reach England; he hoped, as he had -said at first, to spend Christmas Day at home, but -it was uncertain. Monica was counting the days, in -true school-girl fashion, by marking off on a little -calendar each day at its close; and the number had -steadily decreased until very few remained to be -crossed off now.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She stood before the little calendar on the bedroom -wall one night, pencil in hand, and crossed off the -twenty-first of December. "Only four more days -to Christmas now, and by then, my darling dad will -be here. Oh, how I am longing to see him, and -tell him everything! I have tried to explain in my -letters, but it is so difficult to write just what one -feels, and I </span><em class="italics">do</em><span> want to feel his hand on my head -once more, just as he used to do, and hear his dear -voice saying, 'God bless my darling child.'"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Here Monica's feelings overcame her, and her eyes -brimmed with tears for a moment. But they were -soon chased away, and a happy smile played about -her lips, as she began to undress, and put the various -articles of her attire neatly away. "I do hope he -will think I have improved, and that I am growing -up a little bit like he wanted me to. If I am, it -is all owing to the Herschels," and Monica took up -the frame containing the pictured faces of her seaside -friends, and gazed thoughtfully at them. "Dear -Robina, and--and Leslie, too; what sort of girl -should I have been by now, if God had not sent -you into my life? I can never, never thank Him -enough for all His goodness to me, and so the only -thing I can do is to seek to 'walk worthy of the Lord -unto all pleasing,' as my motto says, and do what -I can to get others to follow Him, too."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Monica never crossed off December the twenty-second -on her little calendar; indeed, she forgot -all about it, for a telegram the next afternoon informed -them that the colonel had already left London, and -in less than a couple of hours Monica was in her -father's arms.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My darling child!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Dearest dad!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>What else they said was unintelligible for the next -few moments, and then Colonel Beauchamp held his -daughter at arm's length, and critically examined her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Shall I pass muster, daddy dear?" she asked, -merrily; but there was more behind the words than -appeared on the surface.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And the proud father, noting the purposeful face, -so full of expression, and reading true nobility of -character therein, held out his arms, and Monica -slipped confidingly into them, while he bent his -soldierly head and pressed a long, long kiss upon -her broad white brow, murmuring, as he did so, -in tones so low as only to reach his daughter's ears: -"I think my Monica deserves the V.C., for it is -evident she has fought successfully against heavy -odds, under fire of the enemy, and won a brilliant -victory."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, dad, I don't think I have," whispered the -happy girl, her head on his shoulder; "but whatever -good there is about me, is all owing to my having -enlisted under the banner of Jesus Christ."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"His arm hath gotten him the victory," repeated -the colonel reverently, and Monica knew that her -father understood.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="the-child-has-chosen-well"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XXV</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">"THE CHILD HAS CHOSEN WELL."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Our story is done. With the retirement of her -son from the army, and his return to -England, and subsequent settling down at Carson -Rise, Mrs. Beauchamp's responsibility over her once -troublesome granddaughter ceased. But to those -readers who have been interested in the quartette, -during a few months of their school life, a glimpse -at them all, seven years after the events recorded, -will not come amiss.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Olive Franklyn, having excelled in various drawing -examinations, was fortunate in securing an exhibition -which admitted her, at a nominal fee, as student -at a much-sought-after School of Art for a couple -of years upon leaving the High School. From -thence, she went over to Paris, in order to perfect -herself in her particular branch of art, and so talented -are her sketches that already there seems a brilliant -future stretching out before her. She has made -many friends among her fellow students, for Olive -Franklyn is not only a clever artist, but a congenial -companion as well. But in her inmost heart, she -feels that no one will ever take Monica's place. -They are friends still, although for several years -they have only met occasionally; but they have -very little in common, for Olive has not yet -surrendered to the King of kings, although Monica -and Elsa have faith enough to believe that she will -do so, sooner or later. She says she never intends -to marry, for she is wedded already to her art, and -that suffices her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Elsa has been able to carry out her girlish ambition, -and for the last two years has been a nurse in the -children's ward of a large London hospital. Her -heart, brimming over with love for the pitiful -specimens of humanity entrusted to her care, has -found an outlet in tending the little ones, for as each -newcomer arrives she seems to hear the Divine -commission, "Take this child, and nurse it </span><em class="italics">for Me</em><span>." She -is beloved by all the staff for her gentle, helpful -ways, and her influence over the little inmates of -the cots in her ward is marvellous. Seldom indeed -does a child remain refractory after Nurse Franklyn -has spoken a few words to it, in her soft girlish -tones; and the Sister persists in saying that even -the tiniest baby knows when it is in her arms, and -leaves off crying instantly! But it was not merely -for the sake of helping to alleviate pain that Elsa -made choice of hospital nursing as a profession. -That is a noble work; but it is a nobler still when -the sad and suffering hearts of even little children -are pointed to the tender Shepherd who said: -"Suffer the little children to come unto Me." And -that was Elsa's aim in all her work, and many were -the young lives won for her Master in that large -children's ward. She is hoping, some day, to become -Sister of her ward if all goes well, and not one of -her fellow-nurses would grudge her the honour; but -the Rev. Marcus Drury, senior curate of Monkrigg, -has other views for her, and, possibly, when he obtains -a living, Nurse Franklyn will be persuaded to say -"good-bye" to her bairnies; and if so, there will -be much wailing and many regrets.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Amethyst Drury has not developed into a "platform -woman" yet; but one cannot tell what the future has -in store for her, as she has only lately celebrated her -twenty-first birthday. She has improved wonderfully -since her school-days, and is her mother's right hand -in the parish, while Miss Drury's Bible Class for girls -just too old for Sunday School, but not yet "young -women," is remarkably well-attended. She has a very -pretty, clear soprano voice, and is much in request at -various choral classes and concerts, and in that way -has commenced platform work. And as Amethyst -long ago, in the words of Miss Havergal's hymn had said,</span></p> -<blockquote> -<div> -<div class="line-block outermost"> -<div class="line"><span>Take my voice, and let me sing</span></div> -<div class="line"><span>Always, only, for my King,</span></div> -</div> -</div> -</blockquote> -<p class="pfirst"><span>her mother and father feel that she is speaking for -Him, in words of sacred song, just as clearly, and -sometimes far more tellingly, than she could ever -hope to do as a lecturer.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Drurys are still at Osmington, and Amethyst -carries on the missionary working party begun so -many years ago in the old playroom. Not one of -the original members is still on the spot except her, -but the younger sisters of some of those girls have -taken their places, Joan Franklyn, who will soon be -leaving school, being the oldest member. A very -special interest is attached to the work this year, for -it is all destined for the mission station in China, -where Lily Howell has been working with an older -missionary (none other than Hope Daverel herself!) -for some few months. Little did any of the quartette -dream, when two of them so reluctantly admitted -her to their working-party, that she would become -their "first-fruits." But it seems that Monica's -disinterested action on Lily's behalf, and subsequent -Christlike life, influenced the girl who was keenly -criticising all her actions, with the result that she -became an earnest Christian, while a great desire -took root in her heart to go to the poor Chinese and -tell them of the Saviour she had found. At first, her -father was unwilling, and Lily felt she would have to -give up her cherished desire; but eventually all -hindrances were removed, and after training she -went out as an honorary missionary to inland China.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But what of Monica? Well, Monica Beauchamp -is Monica Herschel now, and so, at last, she has a -sister of her own in Robina, whom she dearly loves. -Life has not been all unclouded sunshine to Monica, -for, soon after her engagement to Leslie Herschel, -who was home on furlough, he became seriously ill -with African fever, and for days his life hung in the -balance. But God was with her through it all, -and her faith, which never wavered, was eventually -rewarded by the giving back to her of the one whom -she had always enshrined in her heart, as her ideal, -because it was he who had been the means of her -salvation.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Leslie's serious illness put an end to their hopes of -working side by side for Christ in the Soudan, for -the time being, at any rate; but they still look -forward to it, in the future, if God so wills it. -Meanwhile, they are very happy in their work for Him -at West Port, a large seafaring town, where Leslie -is acting as curate-in-charge for an elderly and infirm -vicar. The work is arduous, for the fisher-folk at -West Port are hardly less heathen than the natives -of Africa, but the seed is being faithfully sown there, -and already a harvest of precious souls is being -reaped.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Parson's lady" is a great favourite among the -women, to whom Monica devotes all her energies, -and not a few among them will one day "rise up -and call her blessed," for from her lips and life they -have learnt the way into the Kingdom.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Perhaps the daily teaching, and oftentimes tending, -of these poor ignorant fisherwomen, was not just the -career that Colonel Beauchamp would have chosen -for his handsome daughter; and when he gave his -consent to her marriage with Leslie Herschel such -a future for her was an undreamt-of thing.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But who could resist her pleading tones and soft -caress, when, with cheeks like damask roses, she -whispered, "Oh, dad, I love him! I think I always -have, since the old Sandyshore days. There never -</span><em class="italics">could</em><span> be any one but Leslie for me, and he says just -the same!" So her fond father, remembering the -sadness of his own short married life, confessed that -he was conquered.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"She might have married anybody, with her face -and fortune," demurred Mrs. Beauchamp, who was -very little altered, outwardly, despite her -seventy-six years; "but she always would have her own -way."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, I must say I think the child has chosen -well," said the colonel. "Leslie is a man in a -thousand, and worthy even of our dearest Monica."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Perhaps, as he was the means of my losing the -troublesome part of my granddaughter seven years -ago, he has the best right to have her altogether," -murmured the old lady, more to herself than to -her son, and she fell into a reverie, and lived over -again the days that are no more.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="medium">THE END.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><em class="italics small">Printed by Hazell, Watson & Viney, Ld., London and Aylesbury.</em></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 6em"> -</div> -<!-- -*- encoding: utf-8 -*- --> -<div class="backmatter"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst" id="pg-end-line"><span>*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK </span><span>MONICA'S CHOICE</span><span> ***</span></p> -<div class="cleardoublepage"> -</div> -<div class="language-en level-2 pgfooter section" id="a-word-from-project-gutenberg" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> -<span id="pg-footer"></span><h2 class="level-2 pfirst section-title title"><span>A Word from Project Gutenberg</span></h2> -<p class="pfirst"><span>We will update this book if we find any errors.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This book can be found under: </span><a class="reference external" href="http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/45432"><span>http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/45432</span></a></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no one -owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation (and -you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without -permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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