BETSY IS FIRST AID TO THE INJURED FEELINGS
As Elizabeth entered the dining-room someone jumped out from behind the
door and pounced upon her. “Why, Betsy,” cried Elizabeth, “when did you
come?”
“Just now,” returned Betsy. “I came with Hal. He is going to take
supper with you all, for he and Kathie are going somewhere afterward. I
asked aunt Em if I couldn’t come too, and she said I might if I would
not stay long afterward. Hal and Kathie promised to take me to our gate
when they go down. I was so worried about you, Elizabeth, when you
didn’t come to school. Bert said you had a headache and I was afraid
you were getting some fatal disease.”
“I did have a headache,” Elizabeth acknowledged, “but it is better now.
I think when I have had some supper I shall feel all right. I thought
supper was ready.”
“I think they are waiting for your father to come in,” Betsy told her.
“Elizabeth, I am so anxious to know what Miss Jewett had to say to you.”
“She didn’t have very much to say,” replied Elizabeth doubtfully. “She
thinks I put the mouse in my desk on purpose to be mischievous, and she
was very much hurt, so was I.”
“Oh, Elizabeth, were you really? You did put the mouse there, you know.”
“But I didn’t do it to make fun; I did it so it would not upset the
school and scare Miss Jewett.”
“Why didn’t you tell her so?”
“I don’t know; somehow I couldn’t. I got sort of rattled, I think; at
first I did, and then I was mad because she thought I did it on purpose
so I just wouldn’t say.”
Betsy was thoughtful for a moment. “I wonder how the mouse got in,” she
said. “I never saw one in the schoolhouse before, did you? Where was it
when you picked it up, Elizabeth?”
“It was running along the top of a--a desk. It must have been cold or
something, for it didn’t run fast and didn’t seem a bit afraid. I put
my handkerchief over it and picked it up quite easily.”
“You are going to school tomorrow, of course,” said Betsy.
“Oh yes.”
“And you will tell Miss Jewett that you didn’t kick up a fuss on
purpose.”
“Maybe so,”--Elizabeth still had a remnant of hurt feelings. “She may
not believe me if I do tell her.”
“Oh, Elizabeth, she must. She wouldn’t be so mean. When you love her so
much I don’t see how you can think she could be so mean.”
“She loved me so much and yet she thought I could be mean,” replied
Elizabeth, still on the defensive. “I was hurt to the very core of my
being, Betsy, and there is no balm for my wounded heart.”
Just here the family appeared and the conversation ceased. Betsy was
quite at home here, and was never treated as company. She now began
taking some things from a chair that she might draw it up to the table.
As she removed some books, Bert’s lunch box clattered to the floor.
Betsy picked it up and saw that there were queer holes in the bottom
and that a cooky, which looked as if a mouse had nibbled it, had fallen
out. Quick as a flash it came over her that Bert was responsible for
the mouse’s appearance in the schoolroom, but she said nothing about
it, although she thought: “That is just like Elizabeth; she wouldn’t
tell for fear Bert would be found out.”
She felt that she had the key to the whole situation and made up her
mind that Miss Jewett should know.
The opportunity for telling was soon afforded her, for when she reached
home there sat Miss Jewett. “Oh,” exclaimed Betsy, “were you here to
supper, Miss Jewett?”
“I feel quite sure of it,” returned her teacher with a smile.
“Why didn’t they tell me you were coming?” said Betsy, aggrieved. “I
wouldn’t have gone out if I had known.”
“Maybe that is why they didn’t tell,” said Miss Jewett with a little
twinkle in her eye.
Betsy did not know quite how to take this, so she said nothing.
“Did you find Elizabeth better?” said Miss Jewett, somewhat formally.
“Yes, she was much better,” Betsy answered. “She will be well enough
to come to school tomorrow.”
Miss Jewett did not answer. She seemed to be thinking deeply. Presently
she said, “Betsy, I wonder if you can throw any light on this matter of
Elizabeth and the mouse. Did she really bring it to school with her?
I know she is full of fun and likes to do unusual things, but I could
scarce believe my ears when she told me that she put it in her desk
herself.”
“Of course she didn’t bring it to school,”--Betsy spoke indignantly.
“She saw it running across a desk and she jumped up and caught it so as
to prevent a disturbance. She told me all about it this evening.”
“Why, Betsy, is that true? Then why in the world didn’t she tell me?”
“I don’t know; she said she was sort of rattled; and then, you won’t be
mad, Miss Jewett, she was proud and didn’t see how you could suspect
her of doing it.”
“Oh, but I am sorry,” returned Miss Jewett. “She didn’t deny that she
had put it in her desk, and I didn’t care to question further, for I
was feeling rather hurt myself. Did you see her catch it, Betsy?”
“I saw her jump up suddenly and then I saw her pop something in her
desk. I heard it running around but I didn’t know at first what it was.”
“Dear me, dear me,” murmured Miss Jewett. “I wish she had told me.”
“Miss Jewett,” said Betsy presently, “if I tell you a secret, will you
promise not to let anyone know? I hate to be a telltale, but I want you
to know just how fine Elizabeth really is. She would rather take the
blame herself than have the real person suffer.”
“Oh dear, Betsy, that is asking a good deal. Perhaps I should not make
such a promise, yet if it exonerates Elizabeth I should be glad to
know. Yes, I will keep the secret.”
“I will tell you what I think and why I think it,” began Betsy, and
went on to relate how she had discovered the lunch box with the nibbled
cake and all the rest of it, ending up with: “It would be just like
Bert to do it; he is so full of mischief. Why, last year he brought a
little grass snake to school and almost frightened Miss Dunbar out of
her wits by putting it on the ledge under the black-board. She caught
him, though, and he had to stay in for days and days after school and
learn lines and lines of something or other.”
“He deserves to be well punished now,” declared Miss Jewett, “but as
we have only what is called circumstantial evidence I suppose he must
escape. I am glad you told me, however, for I am pretty sure you are
right, and when I see Elizabeth I shall be able to use more diplomacy.
Poor Elizabeth, to think that she took it so to heart.”
“She said that it wouldn’t have seemed so terrible if you had kissed
her good-bye as you always did before. She seemed to feel worse about
that than anything else. She thought that meant that you had stopped
loving her.”
“The blessed child, of course I haven’t stopped loving her.”
“May I tell her that you send your love to her and good-night? I can
speak to her over the ’phone, you know.”
“Yes, do tell her that and ask her to come to school early so I can
have a word with her before work begins. I must go and put on my things
now, for you know there is an entertainment at the Hall and we are all
going.”
“You mean you grown-ups; we children are not. Hal and Kathie have gone
already.”
As soon as the front door closed after her elders Betsy went to the
telephone, called up Elizabeth and delivered Miss Jewett’s message.
Elizabeth’s answer came back: “Oh, I am so rejoiceful. I shall sleep
a sweet and dreamless slumber tonight, Betsy. You are a friend indeed
to pour the oil of gladness upon my bruised and bleeding heart. I
certainly will start to school early. What? Yes, I have studied them,
for, even if I had no heart to acquire any more knowledge, I felt that
I must do my duty to my parents no matter how I suffered. Good-night,
dearest Phillipa, your Frederica wafts you a kiss.”
True to her promise, Elizabeth started off betimes to school the next
morning. She did not stop for Betsy as usual, believing that she would
not have finished breakfast, and as for Bess it was quite positive
that she would still be at table for she loved to linger till the
last moment. Miss Jewett greeted her with a smile. Elizabeth was the
first arrival, as she hoped she would be. The schoolroom was fresh
and bright, cheery with warmth of sun and blazing fire. Some scarlet
geraniums in the window were beginning to put forth blossoms, while a
great poinsettia, a Christmas gift to Miss Jewett, still showed its
large and brilliant flowers amidst the green of palms and ferns.
“Good-morning, Elizabeth,” said Miss Jewett brightly. “Come up here and
let us straighten out that unfortunate misunderstanding. You foolish
child, why didn’t you tell me yesterday how it happened that you put
the mouse in your desk? I might never have known if it had not been for
Betsy. To be sure, I should have gone deeper into the matter and have
inquired your motive, but I thought the least said the soonest mended,
and after you had acknowledged that you put it there I thought that
settled it. I am sorry, dear.”
“I suppose I should have told you,” answered Elizabeth, “but somehow I
couldn’t. I felt all twisted up and contrary, and the more you talked
about it the worse it was till at last I couldn’t have said anything if
I had tried.”
“I see. And you captured the mouse simply to save me a scare and the
school a disturbance?”
“Yes, Miss Jewett, although--” Elizabeth hesitated; but she was too
honest not to go on, “although I was kind of half glad to have it
happen: it made such a nice excitement.”
“But it was not your intention to start such an excitement,” replied
Miss Jewett with a smile, “and that is the main point. It has not been
such a long time since I was a schoolgirl for me to forget that any
interruption of routine is welcome. We’ll call it square, Elizabeth, if
you like. I think we were both a little wrong. Come and give me a good
hug and kiss before anyone comes.”
Elizabeth did not hesitate to respond to the invitation, receiving as
hearty a hug as she gave. “I think it was because I love you so much
that I felt so badly,” she whispered.
“Dear child,” murmured Miss Jewett. “Hereafter we must speak right out,
dear, and not allow any more misunderstandings.” Then two or three
children came trooping in and Elizabeth went to her seat feeling very
happy.
Believing that Elizabeth’s part in the yesterday’s disturbance might
not be known, Miss Jewett took pains to inform the school of the little
girl’s motives and at the same time she gave a lecture which was
really aimed at Bert who felt most uneasy when he learned how unhappy
he had made his sister. Indeed, Betsy took it upon herself to charge
him with being the guilty one.
“I should think you would be ashamed of yourself, Bert Hollins,” she
began at recess when she could get him out of hearing of the others. “I
know it was you who brought the mouse to school, for I saw the holes
in your lunch box and the cooky that the mouse had nibbled. Don’t you
know that Elizabeth got the whole blame for it, and cried herself sick
about it? She wasn’t such a sneaky coward as to allow the blame to fall
on you where it belonged and she let Miss Jewett believe it was she who
did it just to keep you out of trouble.”
“Gee!” exclaimed Bert, “I didn’t know that. I vow I didn’t, Betsy.
Was that why she didn’t eat any dinner and didn’t go to school in the
afternoon?”
“It was exactly that, if you must know, and I should think you would be
ashamed to let a girl be braver than you; I wouldn’t if I were a boy.”
Bert got very red in the face. There was nothing he resented so much
as an attack upon his courage. He stood looking very glum while Betsy
berated him. “What do you expect me to do?” he said at last.
“What any manly and gentlemanly person would do,” returned Betsy with
dignity, and walked away, having had her say.
Bert stood there in a most uncomfortable state of mind. The subject
which he thought at rest had come back upon him like a boomerang. If
Betsy knew he wondered if Miss Jewett did likewise. Of course Betsy had
only guessed at it for he had not actually admitted that she was right.
He wondered if Elizabeth was still under suspicion and he eyed her very
closely when the return to his seat gave him an opportunity. She seemed
as usual. He could see no traces of unhappiness in her face, but she
knew and Betsy knew, so it was up to him to do something. He wouldn’t
let a girl have more courage than he had. It was fine of Elizabeth, of
course, but he almost wished she hadn’t put him in this position, for
now he had two things to answer for instead of one. He had begun the
mischief and had let her take the blame. Well, of course no man could
allow that. All afternoon Bert was most saintly, so much so that Miss
Jewett felt that Betsy was right in her suspicions. He went out with
the rest, for Miss Jewett had no intention of calling him to account.
However, the schoolroom was scarcely emptied before Bert appeared in
the doorway. He stood there twirling his cap and looking most uneasy.
“Well, Bert,” said Miss Jewett encouragingly.
“It was me,” said Bert doggedly, if ungrammatically. “I was the fellow
that let that mouse out. I brought him to school on purpose to have
some fun; it wasn’t Elizabeth at all.”
“I know that,” Miss Jewett said calmly, “and I was pretty sure of the
guilty person, but on Elizabeth’s account I overlooked it. It was
pretty good of her, don’t you think, Bert, to try to shield you?”
“It was, sure,” replied Bert. “She’s the stuff, but I ’most wish she
hadn’t.”
“You think that since she did not succeed in preventing a disturbance
it would have been better all around? Well, I think so too, so far as
that one thing was concerned, but it has done something else which I
think is more worth while. It has proved to you and to me that she is
loyal to her brother and to me, that she has courage, moral courage,
which is the best kind, and so we have learned how absolutely she is
to be depended upon.”
“She’s all right,” repeated Bert.
“It has proved to me another thing that I might not have found out,”
Miss Jewett went on: “it has shown me that you have moral courage, too,
and that you are not willing to let your sister shoulder the blame
which is really yours. That is worth while knowing, too, Bert. I am
mighty glad of that. So, because it would grieve your sister to know
that in spite of her efforts you were punished, and because of one or
two other things, we are going to close the subject right now. But,
listen, Bert, if ever you do such a thing again--” Miss Jewett did not
say what would happen but by the expression of her face Bert knew he
would not be let off easily.
He stood for a minute not knowing exactly what to say. He had had
something of a lecture, to be sure, but he had been commended for
having the courage to own up. He did not feel that he could depart with
flying colors, exactly, yet he was not in disgrace, nor was there any
occasion to show defiance. Probably the best thing was to show neither
the mien of conqueror nor of vanquished, but to take his leave in a
polite but firmly resolute manner. So he bowed and said pleasantly:
“Good-evening, Miss Jewett. I don’t believe I will bother with bringing
any more mice to school.” Then he went without a moment’s delay,
leaving Miss Jewett shaking with laughter.
“They are so ridiculous, those two Hollins children,” she said to
herself. “I wonder if I will get through the year with any dignity
left. Teaching does take it out of one, but I must say that at times
there are compensations. I wish I could tell exactly what was passing
through that youngster’s mind when he went out in that absurd way.”
It did not make the slightest difference to Bert whether she knew
or not; his whole feeling was of relief at having put an unpleasant
interview behind him. There was but one more thing required of him and
that could be made short work of. He put his intention into effect at
the very first moment he could. There was no need of appearing anything
but lordly before his own sister, so with hands in his pockets, he
sauntered into Elizabeth’s presence.
He found her absorbed in studying her lessons for the next day, being
fired with new ambition after the reconciliation. “I say,” said Bert,
breaking in upon the doings of the English kings.
“Oh, what do you want, Bert,” said Elizabeth impatiently. “Can’t you
see I am studying my lessons?”
“I just wanted to say that I am much obliged to you for being so decent
about that mouse business. I told Miss Jewett that it was my doings.”
“Oh, Bert, and what did she do?”
“Oh nothing. I told her I wouldn’t bring any more to school.” Then
Bert sauntered out with the air of having disposed of a very trifling
matter. But Elizabeth understood.