CHAPTER XIII

Mabel Brewster may live to be a very old woman but she will never like

to look back at that one night in her life. She could not eat anything;

she could not read, although a nice trashy novel invited her. She could

not sleep. And it was well.

Mabel had come to a place where she was forced to balance her books. She

had been _so_ anxious to be a business woman, a professional woman, a

Free Soul, that she had not looked once on the debit side of the page.

And sooner or later we all must do this.

She was very, very unhappy, embarrassed and ashamed; but her mind was

made up. All she longed for was light--the coming of day so that she

could carry out the plans she had formulated.

She sat thinking, thinking until ten o'clock, then with a queer little

smile as she noticed the time, she went to the door with caution and

turned the key, and slowly, very slowly opened the door.

It was true. On the cramped, uncomfortable settee, curled up asleep, was

Frank. Mabel stared. So it was true--her brother--just as they had said!

For one wild moment her resolves vanished. She felt an overpowering

impulse to run away, to disappear so the dear people whom she had

utterly failed would never again see her face. But it vanished as

quickly as it had come.

She stepped to Frank's side and laid her hand gently on his shoulder.

Instantly his arm shot out in a sweeping blow and he leaped to his feet.

The doubled fist missed Mabel by a bare fraction.

"Don't hit me, dear," she said gently. "Come inside and go to bed

properly. You see I know all about you at last. I can't thank you for

being so good to me, but I am going to be a better sister to you,

Frank."

Frank, looking rather sheepish at being caught, followed his sister into

the room. He looked about it curiously. He had never been through the

apartment, wishing to show by his absence that he disapproved of the

whole thing. Now, however, he was embarrassed and needed a subject for

conversation.

"It is not bad here," he said gruffly.

"I think it is _perfectly horrid_!" said Mabel. "If you and mother will

let me, I am coming home tomorrow."

"To stay?" asked Frank incredulously.

"To stay forever and ever!" said Mabel. "It will take me that long to

show you what a goose I have been, and how I mean to be different. Oh,

Frank, there is _no_ such thing as a person living all for herself.

_Never!_ I wonder if there was ever such a silly, conceited, _selfish_

person in the world before."

"Well, my goodness, Mabe, I wouldn't knock myself like that," said

Frank uncomfortably. "If that's the way you feel, why, it's all right. I

know mother will be tickled to death to have you home again. She feels

pretty bad about your being away. She is lonesome as the dickens for

you. But she is so sweet she wouldn't let you know it."

Mabel burst into tears.

"Oh, I have been lonesome too!" she cried. "I have been perfectly

miserable! Oh, Frank, I don't see what ailed me!"

"Why not pick up some of your things and go home tonight?" suggested

Frank hopefully.

"No," she said. "If I am going to turn over a new leaf I will have a

good many things to do tomorrow. Oh dear, it is going to be perfectly

awful, but I deserve it. We had better go to bed now, Frank. There is a

bed all made up in the little room next to mine. Oh, how scared I used

to be here all alone!"

"I wouldn't bother to think about it," said Frank. "I bet we will have a

good time after this, Sissy. We will understand each other better. And I

have learned a lesson myself; and that is to stick by my mother just as

close as ever I can."

"Here, too!" said Mabel. "Oh, I wish it was morning! I wish tomorrow was

all over!"

"Can I help?" asked Frank, as he stooped to unlace his shoes.

"No, thank you," said Mabel grimly. "I started this thing, and I am

going to finish it."

"Well, good-night then," said Frank, giving his sister a hearty hug and

kiss, which Mabel returned joyfully. The days when she had turned a cold

cheek to her brother or had given him a chilly peck were past forever.

Next morning, Mabel, instead of wadding her nice hair up in buns,

braided it neatly in her old fashion, put on her neatest and most

girlish dress, and went down to the _Times-Leader_ office. All the

reporters had received their assignments and had gone out. The City

Editor sat at his desk inside the magic railing that Mabel had planned

to pass. She caught her breath, then walked up and rested her hands on

the rail. When he saw her the Editor rose. He felt as though he wanted

to look as tall as he felt, when he said what he intended to say to this

pert young person.

"Well, young lady," he commenced, but Mabel, nodding her head,

interrupted him.

"Yes, sir, I know just what you are going to say," she said, fixing her

eyes bravely on his. "I never meant to eavesdrop, but I was here in the

cloak-room last evening when you said what you did to Miss Gere. About

me, I mean, and my selfishness, and my bad poetry and all of everything.

And it is all true. I am glad I heard you. It is perfectly true. But I

have been finding out since I came in here that I don't amount to

anything. And I have been so bad to my mother that perhaps she won't

want me to come home at all. I am sorry you have had to bother with me,

and of course I don't deserve any wages. I just wanted you to know that

I am going to go home and beg my mother to forgive me, and if she _will_

let me come back, I am going to try to show her that it did pay to let

me make this experiment after all."

Mabel choked, but before the dumbfounded Editor could sit down nearer

Mabel's level and feel as small as he _wanted_ to feel, she went on:

"I think mother will let me try again. She is that sort. And you needn't

be afraid; I will truly, _truly_ be a good girl, and I'm so sorry." She

turned and bolted for the door and collided violently with Jesse, who

had entered just behind her with a letter for the Editor. Mabel righted

herself and gave the boy a jerky little nod.

"You heard what I said, didn't you?" she asked. "Well, I mean it! And I

am sorry I was horrid to you. It was just because I was a conceited

little prig, and you needn't speak to me again ever!"

She dodged around the boy and was out of sight.

"_Cummere!_" roared the City Editor all in one word, but Mabel ran

breathlessly down the dusty stairs toward the street. She simply could

not stay up there and wait for Miss Gere. She would write her a letter

or go to her house. Just as she reached the bottom of the last flight

she heard someone pounding down four steps at a time. It was Jesse, and

when he reached her, he laid a desperate clutch on her sleeve.

"Hey, you've got to listen!" he panted. "Gosh, I won't let you go off

without telling you I think you have got more grit than any girl I ever

saw. No matter what you ever did to me, I'm strong for you now all

right. Don't you forget that! And I want to shake hands with you if you

don't mind."

He put out a grimy paw and pumped Mabel's hand vigorously up and down.

Mabel found herself unable to speak. She dragged her hand away and

rushed out of the building, tears blinding her eyes but a strange warm

feeling in her heart. She walked up the street thinking of Jesse; Jesse

who had been so utterly scorned.

How splendid he seemed now! How generous and friendly and loyal! And

when you really looked at him, he was not homely. He had freckles, of

course, and his nose was snub, and his hair seemed to be all cowlicks:

but the teeth that his wide grin disclosed were dazzling white, his blue

eyes simply crackled they were so full of twinkles, and his hand,

despite the grime, was warm and friendly. Mabel felt her heart lift a

little. It looked as though she had one friend after all.

Unfortunately she had not understood the roar sent after her by the

Editor. It was a pity, because that Editor was quite her ideal of

everything great, and it would have comforted her to know that, as she

scurried up Third Street, he was sitting hunched up in his chair,

listening to Jesse's vigorous words as he told of the look on Mabel's

face and her tear-filled eyes as she ran away from him. It would have

comforted Mabel indeed if some kind fairy had whispered to her that she

was one day to be on terms of the greatest friendliness with that same

Editor, with the privilege of entering his magic railing any time she

liked. But no such thought came to comfort her and she rushed on, her

feet trying to keep pace with her eagerness to reach her mother.

What she said to that dear mother, what tears they shed together, and

what plans they made for a new and happy life together, any girl who has

made a mistake and has owned up everything in the safe circle of her

mother's arms will easily guess.

A couple of hours later Mabel and Frank were at the miserable apartment

cleaning up and packing Mabel's things. Mabel was happy. She was going

home. She was going to be just a _real girl_ and a _good Scout_, and she

felt as though she wanted to prance for joy. There was a Scout meeting

that night and it was up to her to attend and make her report And so

greatly had her point of view changed and so high had her courage grown

that she did not mind one bit.

It did seem as though there had never been as good a supper as that

happy family sat down to enjoy. Oh, what a good supper it was! After the

chilly canned meats, and olives and delicatessen cakes that Mabel had

been subsisting on, to have fluffy hot biscuit, flaky potatoes, tender

asparagus, and perfectly broiled beefsteak--Mabel nearly cried with

happiness. They all helped to get it, and Frank sang at the top of his

voice while he set the table.

As soon as supper was over and the dishes stacked in the kitchen, Mrs.

Brewster made Mabel get on her Scout uniform, and Frank walked over to

the Hortons with her.

The girls were all glad to see Mabel, and there was a sort of stir of

excitement as they one and all remembered that on her return to the

Scout meetings Mabel was to tell them all about her experiences in the

big world of labor.

Mabel was so anxious to get her story over with that she could scarcely

wait for the business part of the meeting to be finished. The Captain

was anxious, too. As she had had no chance to see Mabel before the

meeting opened, she could not guess what Mabel intended to say, although

she had an inkling that the experiment had turned out exactly as she had

hoped it would.

When Mabel's chance finally came, when the Captain had given her

permission to speak, and she rose from her chair and faced the roomful

of girls, she found that her heart was beating heavily and her breath

coming fast. But she did not hesitate.

"I reckon the first thing to tell you about my experiment in living for

myself alone is that it will not work. I don't believe that anyone in

the _world_ can actually live as selfishly as I tried to. A girl needs

her mother every minute, and she needs whatever else she has in the line

of a family.

"Well, to begin at the beginning, I had been reading a lot of silly

novels, and every time I could I went to see a movie about elopements

and girls who were misunderstood by their families. You see I am going

to make this a real honest confession instead of just a report. If I

just said that I failed, why, some of you perhaps would think you could

do better than I did, and try it for yourselves. But you needn't waste

your time. Only I don't believe any other Girl Scout would ever be as

silly as I have been.

"Well, to begin again, I went over to an apartment that a friend of ours

was leaving vacant, and there I stayed all alone. Some of you girls came

to see me, but you didn't act as though you were very crazy over it and

I finally learned why. Of course I know how to cook quite a few things

but it was not much fun trying to fix meals for just one, and I

remembered all the time how I used to grumble at home because I had to

get things for Frank once in awhile. And all the while I was there in

that apartment my dear brother was sleeping on a mean little settee in

the hall because he was afraid I would be scared or sick." Mabel paused,

and her eyes filled with tears. Then she continued:

"Mother arranged for me to take a position under Miss Gere, the Society

Editor of the _Times-Leader_, I thought I was going to do wonders but I

found that Miss Gere had to rewrite almost everything I turned in, and

no one wanted to be interviewed by a school-girl, anyway. There was an

awfully nice boy in the office. I thought I was a great deal better than

he was, and I snubbed him awfully, and come to find out, he is a great

friend of Frank's and I am dreadfully ashamed of the way I treated

_him_. Everything went from bad to worse. I finally got so I didn't have

anything for meals but cooked stuff from the delicatessens, and at that

I spent everything I made. I just bought me one hat. It costs awfully to

live and buy food. I don't see how grown people do it. Oh, well, I will

skip a lot of details. But I was sick as I could be of my experiment,

and wished myself back home a million times a day; but I was too

stubborn to give in. Besides, I still thought I was a little wonder at

writing. But yesterday! I was in the cloak-room, and overheard the

Editor talking to Miss Gere, and oh, girls, he said the most _awful_

things about me and the way I worked, and the wretched stuff I wrote,

and oh, _everything_! What he thought of me for my disloyalty to my

mother, trying to get out and shirk my duty just when she needs me, and

everything! I don't believe he left out anything! And girls, it is all

true. Every bit!

"Well, he and Miss Gere went out, and I went home and sat down and

thought about everything. I never felt so small. And however small I

felt, I knew it was my really true size. The size I belong. About an

inch high.

"And presently I looked into the hall, and there was Frank all crunched

up on the settee. I woke him up and asked him to forgive me, and I felt

a little better.

"Well, this morning I went down to see the Editor, and before he had a

chance to tell me what he thought of me, I hurried up and told him what

I thought of myself. He looked sort of surprised. But before he could

say anything, I dashed out. And when I was almost to the door

downstairs, down came that boy. He had heard everything and he came all

the way down to say he thought I was _brave_, and to shake hands with

me. It made me feel a little better.

"I 'most ran all the way home, and I felt lonelier and littler all the

way, and when I opened the door and saw my mother I just fell on her. I

forgot I was going to say that my experiment had failed and that I

wanted to come home. I forgot everything I had planned. When I saw how

sweet she looked and how _motherly_, I just cried and cried, and all I

said at all was, 'Oh, mother, _am_ I your little girl? _Am_ I your

little girl for always?' And all she said was, 'Always and always and

always, my darling!'"

Mabel's voice trailed off to a husky whisper. Her eyes were downcast as

she twisted a button on her blouse, and she did not see that half the

eyes were wet. But they were friendly eyes. Not a girl there but liked

Mabel a thousand times better for her brave and outright confession.

"That is all," said Mabel after a pause. "Mother says it is wiped out

and all past, like a fever, but I shall not forget it. I don't _want_ to

forget it. And I want you, every one of you, to come right out and tell

me if you ever see me acting conceited or snobbish or silly, because I

will _not_ go back and be the old Mabel."

"Well, Mabel, you are a brick!" said Jane, springing up. "I know we are

going to be the best of friends in the world. I didn't like the old

Mabel a bit either!"

"I don't think there _was_ any old Mabel," said the Captain quietly. "It

was always this Mabel, sensible and true, but mistaken and sadly on the

wrong track. And I am so proud, Mabel, to see how you have profited by

this lesson."

"Thank you very much," said Mabel: then added grimly, "But new Mabel or

old, she deserved it all. And I hope I never have to see that Editor

again."

But she did.

The Girl Scout's Triumph; or, Rosanna's Sacrifice · 第 13 / 15 章