A FRIEND IN NEED.
DURING Elsie's stay with Mrs. Perceval, she contrived to tell her all
about the friendship that had sprung up between herself and Mary, and
that lady was quite glad to hear of it. But she did not know what to
say of the secret walks about the house, which Mary had been indulging
in for some time past.
"I must talk to the doctor about it, and hear what he says, for it was
scarcely a wise thing to do, I am afraid."
"But you will not let Mrs. Murray know about it, will you?" said Elsie,
pleadingly. "If it had been my own secret, I should have told my mother
long ago, or if Mrs. Murray was not frightened about everything for
Mary; I mean, if she was brave and wise, as my mother is, there would
not have been any need for it to be a secret," said Elsie, by way of
explanation.
"I will tell the doctor all about it, and he will manage everything so
as not to shock Mrs. Murray or get Mary into trouble; and I hope no
harm has been done by your rash experiment."
When the doctor heard the story from his wife, he laughed. "This
explains a good deal that had puzzled me about Miss Mary the last few
weeks. But leave it to me, I am going to Fairfield to-morrow, and I
shall find out this secret, you may rely upon it."
So the next morning, he walked into the schoolmaster's house, and to
Mrs. Murray's great astonishment, he said, "Now, Mary, you have been
looking so much better the last week or two, I want to see if you
cannot walk a few steps, at least."
"Oh, doctor but how about the two years she was to lie on her back?
They are not at an end yet," said Mrs. Murray, in a tone of alarm.
"Perhaps not; but she may have improved more rapidly than was thought
possible when the doctors decreed two years for her on the couch;
certainly she has been much better the last few weeks," he said.
"She has slept better, and her appetite has been better," admitted Mrs.
Murray.
"And she has had a little more company, I hear," said Mr. Perceval,
looking quizzically at Mary, who knew then that Elsie had told the
secret, as she said she should.
"I could walk round the garden, if mother would let me," said Mary,
desperately.
"We shall see about that afterwards. Let me see, now, how you can walk
across the room with my help," and the doctor put his hand under her
arm.
"Capital!" he exclaimed, as he led her back to the couch. "Now, Mrs.
Murray, she may go for a little walk every day in the open air, say to
the top of the garden and back, when it is fine; if not, then a walk up
and down the room for a few minutes, and I will see her again in a day
or two."
"Oh, thank you," exclaimed Mary; "and please tell Elsie about it, for
she has helped me to get better," she added.
"I don't doubt it," said the doctor, taking his hat and gloves, and
without waiting to hear all Mrs. Murray had to say against his advice
being followed, he jumped into his gig and drove away.
"That girl has done my invalid at Fairfield a world of good," he said
to Mrs. Perceval, when he got home.
"I am glad their experiment has done Mary no harm," replied the lady,
"and it will be a great relief to Elsie to hear it too, for I was
telling her this morning it would not be wise to go against doctor's
orders in that way, as a general rule."
"Well no, perhaps, it wouldn't, but I believe Mary had so strong an
impulse to walk again, that any doctor would have sanctioned it, if
they had known of it; and certainly her mother would, if she had not
grown so terribly nervous about the girl. Now, I hope when Elsie goes
home, she will help her friend to walk out a little way, every day that
it is fine, and Mary will soon be as well and strong as Elsie herself.
By the way, she is looking a good deal better since she came here,"
added the doctor.
"Yes, she does. She needed a change I felt sure, she is so very anxious
lest her brother should not get this scholarship for the horticultural
college. She says he is very fond of gardening, so that it will be just
the thing for him; and Fairfield will be able to hold up its head,
as the first village in the neighbourhood that has been able to take
advantage of the bequest which was left for these scholarships."
"Oh, I think the lad is pretty sure to get it," said the doctor. "I was
talking to Cotton the other day, and he says the lad has been working
splendidly all the summer, and Murray is going to have him at his house
in the evening from now until November, that he may help him all he
can; so that I think he will pull it off all right. This girl who is
staying here won a scholarship for herself they tell me; it seems a
pity she could not have had it."
"Yes, it does seem a pity," said the lady, "though she might not have
been such a kind, thoughtful girl, if she had had more book learning. I
am sure she has been quite a comfort to me these holidays, and added to
everybody's enjoyment, as well as enjoying herself, I hope."
There was little question but that Elsie was enjoying the change of
air, and scene, and society. And the thought that here a slice of bread
and butter—more or less—would make no perceptible difference in the
larder, gave zest to her appetite, and she enjoyed her food with double
relish.
It was with mingled feelings of regret and relief that she went home,
for she was afraid lest she should find her mother almost worn out with
the extra care and trouble that would fall upon her while she was away;
but she found her looking much the same as when she left her.
"Dear, dear mother, I am glad to come back to you," said Elsie, "though
I have had a splendid holiday, and enjoyed myself so much."
"You are looking better, dear," said her mother, who really was glad
to see Elsie back once more, for she had missed her sadly, both for
the work she took off her shoulders, and the companionship that Elsie
alone could give her now. Tom tried to do what he could, but he was
not Elsie, he could not share his mother's burden; for he, like the
children, must be sheltered from all trouble and anxiety, and provided
for somehow, or he would not be able to give that undivided attention
to his books and lessons, that was an absolute necessity, if he was not
to disappoint everybody's hopes on his behalf.
Mrs. Winn was very grateful to the schoolmaster for asking Tom to
spend his evenings with him now. Whether he guessed that there was not
too much for him at home, she did not know, she hoped he did not. But
that he took Tom home with him to tea two or three times a week was a
relief to her, and that he went away directly after tea, until bedtime,
enabled her and Elsie to practice several little economies, without
Tom's knowledge, that would have troubled him, if he had known of them.
This was likewise a satisfaction to her.
So the summer passed away, and the wet dreary month of November came
in, the month that was to decide Tom's fate, and about which Elsie grew
nervously anxious as the time went on.
She knew now that this examination was a more difficult one than her
own had been, for during her visits to Mary she heard various items of
news that Mary had gleaned from her father, and Tom himself. Elsie did
not venture to tell her mother of this, lest she should make her more
despondent than she was.
But it was a great burden to the girl to think that her brother might
fail after all, and through no fault of his own this time, for Mr.
Murray had told her that Tom had got on wonderfully since he had
made up his mind to try for this scholarship. If he failed it would
be an honourable failure, for which he could not be blamed, as the
examination was very difficult for a mere boy such as Tom was.
Tom, too, had his own private worry just now, and it was one he saw
no way of getting over at present. He did not know until the end
of October that the examination would be held at the horticultural
college, and would occupy the greater part of a week, and during this
time he would be expected to provide his own board and lodging in the
town. How this additional expense was to be met, he did not know.
Mr. Cotton had mentioned the matter one day when he called at the
school, and advised Tom to go over to the neighbourhood of the college
before the day of examination, and look-out for lodgings.
"I think I might do that through a friend," said Tom. And there the
matter had ended, so far as the clergyman was concerned; but to Tom it
was a serious question, as to how he was to pay for the lodgings when
they were found.
At last he thought he would write, and confide his trouble to his old
friend. And, as he hoped, this brought Jack over on the following
Saturday.
"Look here, old fellow," he said, "I have heard that this blessed
examination will last a week, and you'll have to look-out for a
lodging, unless you will put your pride in your pocket, and come
and stay with me. My mother will do the best she can to make you
comfortable, because of that rabbit hutch; but we are working people,
you know, and rough it a bit sometimes."
Mrs. Winn looked anxiously at Tom, for it was the first time she had
heard of the examination lasting a week, and she said, rather sharply,
"Did you know of this, Tom?"
"Not until last week, mother. Mr. Cotton told me then that I should
have to look-out for a lodging, and I thought if Jack should happen to
come over, I would ask him about it."
"Bless you, I don't believe you would get a lodging for love or money
nearer the college than we are. They tell me lots of chaps come for
this, and it'll be a rare honour for Tom and the school, and all the
lot of you, if he gets this scholarship. But he must have a place to
live in while he is there, so why shouldn't you let me have a share in
the honour, as well as the rest of you. We're a bit roughish as I said,
but my father's getting on: he's in business for himself. Got a board
as big as that wall. 'John Bond, Carpenter and Builder,' writ on it,
as large as you please. So you see, Mrs. Winn, you need not mind him
coming to us," concluded Jack.
Mrs. Winn did not know what to think, or what to say. She did not like
being indebted to strangers for Tom's accommodation, and yet what could
she do, she had no means to spare for this, and she seemed almost
bewildered as to what she ought to do.
"We are very much obliged to you for your kind invitation," she said,
"but I am afraid it will be giving your mother a great deal of trouble."
"Not a bit of it," said Jack. "Let me see, the examination begins next
Monday week, I shall come over next Saturday and fetch Tom, so mind he
is all ready, Mrs. Winn, for we shall have to start early, because I
want to show Tom about the town a bit."
Mrs. Winn had no better plan to offer in opposition to this, and so the
matter was settled, and a great weight of anxiety was lifted from Tom's
mind, for now he was able to devote his whole attention to his lessons
during this last week.
Betsy Gunn had heard about this college, and was determined to have
some hand in sending Tom there if she could, and so she came in after
Jack had gone, and gave him some practical lessons in grafting and
pruning, which she said would be sure to come in useful.
Tom had learned to like the gossiping old woman, or he would not have
paid any attention to what she had to show him. But as it was, he
watched how she used her knife, and then tried to imitate her method in
a way that quite delighted the woman.
He little thought, as he went on practising Betsy's lesson, how much
would depend upon his compliant civility to the old woman, and how
large a share Betsy Gunn would have in securing his success.
Jack fetched him the following Saturday, and he took with him quite
a pile of books, which he studied every spare minute, between one
examination and the other. But each in turn proved so difficult, that
he almost lost heart after the first day, and it was not until the
examination in practical gardening came on, that he began to hope again.
Part of what he had to do was in practical pruning and grafting, and he
remembered Betsy's lesson so well, that for this he was awarded full
marks, and attracted the notice of the examiner, who reported in most
favourable terms on his skill and dexterity in using the pruning knife.
He knew he had done well in this examination, and went home on the
Friday somewhat cheered; but still feeling very far from confident that
he had passed.
Elsie saw him coming, and went out to the gate to meet him, and to
hear the news. But he shook his head sadly, and walked so slowly, as
though he had left all hope behind him, that a chill feeling of despair
crept over the girl, and she shivered as though the cold had struck her
inwardly.
"Oh, Tom, what is it?" she asked, when her brother reached the gate.
"I cannot tell yet, of course; but I am afraid to hope, Elsie. You see
the examination was much stiffer than I expected it would be, and I had
so little time to work up for it. I did all I could of the papers set,
but I know I have not done well in some. The best I did was the one
Betsy Gunn coached me in."
"Oh, Tom," gasped Elsie, holding on to the gate for support.
Tom put his arm round her and led her indoors. But either it was the
cold, or the shock of his depressing news, or both together, added to
the privation she was enduring, that quite overcame her, for she had no
sooner sat down on the chair than she fainted, and would have fallen
upon the floor, if her mother had not caught her in her arms.
"She is overtired, I am afraid, Tom; help me to carry her up to her own
room, and she shall go to bed at once."
Mrs. Winn chafed her hands, while Tom filled a bottle with hot water
to put to her feet; but alas, there was not much in the way of
restoratives they could give her, except a cup of tea, and Tom made
this while his mother helped Elsie to undress.
When she had had her tea, and was somewhat revived, Tom went to tell
Mr. Murray that he feared he had failed, and should not bring the
honour to Fairfield Village School that he had hoped to do.
"Never mind, my lad; you have done your best, and no man can do more.
If you have failed, it is an honourable failure, and you must try again
next year, you will still be eligible as to age."
But Tom shook his head. "If I have failed, sir, I must go to work, and
do something to help mother; I cannot stay at school another year. I am
afraid Elsie is going to be ill now," he added.
"Is Elsie ill? Is that why she has not been to see me the last two
days?" asked Mary, eagerly and anxiously.
"Very likely. I have only just come in, and my news seemed to upset her
so much, that she sat down and fainted when we got into the kitchen."
"Oh, poor Elsie; she will be disappointed if you have failed, Tom,"
said Mary. "Mother, do let me go and see her," she added.
But Mrs. Murray would not hear of it. She would call and ask Mrs. Winn
how she was in the evening; and if it was fine, she should perhaps go
round and see her the next day, but that was all she would concede.
"Stay and have some tea with us," said Mr. Murray. "You look as though
you would be ill yourself, if you did not have something soon. Did you
have comfortable lodgings, my lad?"
"Oh yes; I went to stay with a school-fellow, and he took good care of
me. Everybody has been very kind."
And then they caught sight of Betsy Gunn standing at the gate, waiting
to hear how he had fared.
"Come in a minute, Miss Gunn," said the schoolmaster, politely.
"I'm afraid it's no go Betsy," said Tom. "But if I should be lucky
enough to scrape through at the tail end of the rest, I shall have to
thank you for that place."
Betsy's brow darkened. "Do you mean to say Betsy would push you down to
the last place?" she said.
"No, no; but if he gets a place at all, it will be you he will have to
thank for it," said the schoolmaster, laughing.
Betsy looked from one to the other to see if they were making fun of
her, as most of the village lads did.
But Tom said quickly, "It's true enough, Betsy. They set me to do some
pruning and grafting, and I did it the way you showed me, while some
of the fellows made a dreadful muddle of it. I did that part of the
exam. well, I know, for the examiner told me so; that, you see, I may
scramble through, thanks to your lesson."
Betsy nodded and went away. She had heard enough to satisfy her; the
great gardeners at the college couldn't beat her dad's way of grafting,
and she was content.
"I only hope this part of the examination will prove a help to you,"
said Mr. Murray. "It was wise of you, Tom, to accept her help, and
learn all she could teach you, for I know nothing about pruning and
grafting beyond what the books teach. But now sit down and have some
tea; we cannot let you go until we have heard all about the papers that
were set you."
So, between eating and talking, Tom did not get home until nearly eight
o'clock. The children had gone to bed, but he was surprised to see his
mother sitting up, with scarcely a spark of fire in the grate.
This part of the family economy, he had not been aware of until now,
but he remembered to have seen it before, and he could only say,—
"Oh, mother, has it come to this, that you must sit without a fire?"
"Never mind, dear, let us get to bed now; I am tired, and so are you."
And she kissed and bade him good-night as she drew him upstairs.