A NEW GOAL
Virginia was alone in her room. It looked barren on the side which had
been occupied by Winona’s bright blankets and reed baskets of quaint
design. The Indian maiden had begged Virginia to permit her to leave her
side of the room untouched, knowing how much the girl from the West
enjoyed having about her the things that suggested the desert, but Virg
had insisted that Winona would much more need them in the plain
white-walled room in the hospital school.
As Virginia glanced around she was conscious of being more homesick than
ever. “But four months isn’t an eternity, and I do love it here,” she
had just concluded when there came a tapping on her door.
Betsy Clossen’s merry face peeped in through the crack which she had
opened. “Are visitors wanted or diswanted?” she inquired.
“We’re improvising words tonight,” Megsy, who closely followed, informed
the lonely occupant.
“Yes, indeed, you’re all wanted. Do come right in. I don’t have to study
just this minute, and it isn’t well for me to be alone, for if I am long
I’m liable to do what my roommate did.”
“What, Virg! You wouldn’t pack up and go to a hospital, would you?”
Margaret looked alarmed.
“No, but I might pack up and go to the desert. Not to stay, but just to
peep in and see what brother and Uncle Tex are doing. They’re sitting in
front of the fireplace now, I suppose, and Rusty Pete, perhaps, is there
talking over the work for tomorrow.”
“And my brother, Peyton, may have ridden over to V. M. to spend the
night,” Babs said. “He wrote me that he often does that, when he has
business to attend to in Douglas. It would be too far to make the round
trip in one day, and so he stops with Malcolm.”
While the girls were talking there came a timid knock.
“Come in,” was Virginia’s hospitable invitation. The door opened and
Dicky Taylor stood on the threshold.
“Hello there, Dicky bird. What’s the big idea? Why not walk in?” This
from Betsy.
“I wasn’t sure you wanted me.” The girl entered and closed the door.
“You see, I don’t belong to your little club-group, and I don’t want to
intrude, but ever since I went over to the Burgess place with Micky I’ve
had such an interest in that nice girl and I hoped you would tell me
what happened next.”
There was a little wistful expression in the eyes of the pretty young
girl and Virginia hastened to say: “We haven’t a club, really, Dicky. I
mean not one that shuts anyone out who wants to come in. I’m not at all
sure but that we might have asked you to meet with us Saturday evenings
for our lesson reviews, that being our main object, only we thought that
you belonged to the Cora-Dora Troupe and that its activities and your
lemonade teas took all of your free time.”
“It’s a curious thing.” Dicky had seated herself at Virg’s invitation,
and she spoke with unwonted seriousness. “I can’t understand it myself.
Last year I was perfectly contented with the nonsense and pranks that
the twins are always thinking up, but this year I feel—well, I don’t
know as I can express it. I’ll say sort of dissatisfied, as though I
were mentally hungry. Oh, I don’t know exactly what I do mean, but I
feel it. A restlessness that the Cora-Dora Troupe and the teas do not
seem to satisfy. And it just came to me recently that the something I
want, you girls have. Even Babs is lots different this year. She seems
to have a definite aim.”
Virginia looked up brightly. “That’s it, dear! That is the whole secret
of content, I do believe. Having a definite aim and every day making
some progress, however little, toward it.” Then with a glance about at
all of them: “You want to know just what happened to change Winona’s
plans, so I will tell you.”
When the little tale had been told, Virginia said with a queer little
smile: “Shall I tell you my new goal? Or rather the only one which I
have definitely formed?”
“Oh, yes, please do!” It was little Sally who spoke. She had never even
thought that a goal in life was necessary. She nestled a bit nearer to
the speaker and listened with her baby-blue eyes intently watching.
Then Virginia told of the little deserted schoolhouse, “It must be very
lonely, for it’s many a year since its door was closed and locked for
the last time. I suppose it has stood there through the long sunny days
and the long windy or rainy days, wondering why the eight laughing,
happy little children never came again, and the rickety shed back of it
wonders perhaps why eight little burros are no longer tied in its
shelter.”
“I remember that little drifted-in schoolhouse, Virg,” Margaret said
softly. “I rode by there alone one day, and I dimly recall having
thought that it must be lonesome, though I haven’t the imagination that
you have, and oh! I do think it is just wonderful of you to want to give
some of your free time to teaching those babies. Maybe I will be able to
help. That is, if I am there.”
“If you are there?” Virginia’s tone held a surprised query. “Dear,
adopted sister of mine, where else would you be but with us on V. M.?
Don’t you know that my brother Malcolm is your guardian and that our
home is always to be your home, that is, if you want to go back with me?
Of course, you will soon be free to choose your own way of living.
Perhaps you’d rather stay in the East?”
“Oh, no, indeed. I want more than words can tell to go back home with
you and to live forever with my sister Virginia and my brother
Malcolm—if they want me.” Then with a little laugh she turned eyes in
which there were tears to look at the listening group. “Girls, forgive
me, please! I know I’m depressing everybody. I was just feeling so sort
of useless and all alone.”
“Oh, you’re useful enough, Megsy. Cut out worrying about that,” Barbara
retorted gayly. “Didn’t you sew seven buttons on undergarments for me
just in time to save me from being pounced on by Miss Snoopins? And
didn’t she happen around five minutes after you had put up your needle
to examine my work basket? ‘Mees Barbara,’ she remarked, and her voice
was almost human, ‘this is the first time I have ever found your
undergarments neatly mended.’ Honestly, I thought by her manner that she
was disappointed. So don’t ever say you aren’t useful, Margaret
Selover.”
“What I want to know,” Betsy put in irrelevantly “is, when Eleanor
Burgess is going to honor this seminary with her presence and with whom
she is going to room.”