WHO WINS.
A damper had been thrown upon Lena's satisfaction in the belief that
Gladys Seabrooke would probably be the recipient of the gift of Mr.
Ashton's trust, by the assurance of her brother Percy that Seabrooke
would be high and mighty and oppose the acceptance of it. She did not
reflect that, having a father and mother, it was not at all likely
that her brother's fiat would decide the matter for Gladys either
one way or the other.
Her first thought and wish was to confide this doubt to Maggie and
Bessie when she should next see them; but she presently felt that she
could not well do this without in some measure, at least, betraying
the heedless Percy. She did not dare to speak of his connection with
Seabrooke, lest she should draw suspicion upon him after her
confidences to Bessie. So she must needs keep this little fretting
worry to herself, too.
There was the question about Hannah, also: how the money was to be
returned to her, in the uncertainty as to how much she knew, and how
she had acquired any knowledge of Percy's predicament; for that she
knew something of it Lena was convinced; and yet the child was
equally sure that that letter had never been out of her own keeping.
Percy had at once put into her hand the hundred-dollar note, telling
her that she must find means of conveying it to the old nurse. Oh,
what a puzzle and a tangle it all was!
Poor little Lena! Truly she was having a hard time with all the
perplexities and anxieties which Percy's worse than folly had brought
upon her.
But one source of worry, in fact two, were to be lifted before long.
Colonel Rush, having waited for what he considered a sufficient
length of time for Percy to make a confession had he been disposed to
do so, resolved to bring him to it whether he would or no. That Percy
had been in some serious difficulty, that he was in some way heavily
involved, was very evident; likewise that Hannah knew of this and had
sacrificed her much prized savings to rescue him.
At present he--the colonel--stood in the relation of parent to Percy
and master to Hannah; he therefore felt that it was both his right
and his duty to make inquiries and put matters straight, so far as he
could.
On Saturday morning, therefore, he called the boy into his library
and asked him if there were anything which he would like to tell him,
and receive his counsel and perhaps help. He made no accusation; did
not tell Percy that he knew he had been involved in some trouble
which had brought about the necessity--real or fancied--for him to
free himself by the payment of this--for a boy--large sum. He put his
question and offer kindly and freely, but in a way which showed his
nephew he was not to be trifled with.
And, indeed, his uncle was the last man in the world with whom Percy
would have chosen to trifle. Not his father, not Dr. Leacraft, had
half the influence over him that this hero-uncle had, the brave,
distinguished soldier whose very name was a synonym for all that was
honorable and daring. There was no one in the world whose good
opinion could have influenced him so much; no one whose scorn and
disapprobation he so dreaded, or from whose reproof he would have
shrunk. He had shown this when he had pleaded with Lena not to betray
him to their uncle, of all people. He would really rather have borne
some severe punishment at the hands of his parents or teacher than he
would one contemptuous word or look from him who was regarded by all
his young relations and friends as a chevalier _sans peur et sans
reproche_. No prevarication, no shuffling would do here; if he
said anything, if he answered at all, it must be the truth and
nothing but the truth.
He hesitated for a moment, not from any intention of refusing to give
his uncle his confidence, or denying that he had been in trouble, but
from a desire to frame his confession in the best manner possible;
but nothing came to his aid other than the plain, unvarnished truth;
nothing else, he felt, would serve his turn here with that steady,
searching eye upon him; and in a moment he had taken his resolve, and
the whole shameful tale was poured into Colonel Rush's ears.
Bad as it was, it was not as bad as Colonel Rush had feared.
Rebellion against lawful authority, rank disobedience and deception
were to be laid at Percy's door, not to speak of the pitiable
weakness which had suffered him to be led into this wrong, and the
enormity of his at least passive acquiescence when Flagg had stolen
Seabrooke's letter; still worse his own destruction of it, almost
involuntary though it was. What he had apprehended the colonel would
hardly have confessed even to himself; but the truth was that he had
suspected Percy of nothing less than the appropriation of some sum
which he was compelled to replace or to face open disgrace.
And yet Colonel Rush was not a suspicious man or one ready to believe
evil of others, but circumstances had looked very dark for Percy, and
there had seemed but one interpretation to place upon them.
And now, by Percy's confession, one part of the mystery was solved;
but there still remained that of Hannah's presumed knowledge that he
was in trouble and had been in sore need of money. Assuredly, Hannah,
devoted as she was to the interests of her nurslings, especially
Percy, would never have thought of making this sacrifice had she not
felt that there was some pressing necessity; but how in the world had
the old nurse acquired this knowledge. The nephew was as much puzzled
as the uncle, and denied, with an indignation which seemed rather out
of place in the light of past occurrences, any imputation that he had
asked her to assist him.
But now, Percy inquired, could the colonel have the hundred-dollar
note exchanged for gold so that it might be restored to faithful
Hannah in the form in which she had always kept it. It was easy
enough to do this, the colonel said; but the trouble would be to make
Hannah confess that she had sent it, still more so why she had sent
it. Colonel Rush would not say so to the children, seeing that no
such idea had occurred to them, but it was his own opinion that
Hannah had in some way obtained unlawful possession of Percy's letter
to Lena, had mastered its contents, and then taken steps for his
relief which she believed could not be discovered.
Of the kindly advice and admonition given to Percy by his uncle there
is no need to speak further; but it resulted in making Percy feel
that he would do anything rather than again run the risk of
forfeiting the good opinion which he now valued more than ever.
Meanwhile, during the time that Percy was closeted with his uncle in
the library, that portion of the members of the "Cheeryble Sisters'
Club" which constituted the choice band of "Inseparables," namely
Maggie and Bessie Bradford, Belle Powers, Lily Norris, and Fanny
Leroy, having joined forces on their way to Miss Ashton's, had called
in to see Lena. This had been done at the suggestion of the ever
considerate Maggie, who, although naturally heedless about the little
everyday business of life, never forgot to do "nice things" for
others. When she was much younger, extreme carelessness had been her
besetting fault, and, as is the manner of this "little fox," had
created much trouble for herself and for others; but having become
convinced that it was her duty to cure herself of this, she had set
to work to do it in such earnest that that which had been a burden
and a care to her was fast becoming a settled habit, and it was but
seldom now that any act or word of heedlessness could be laid to her
charge, while her ever obliging disposition and loving heart prompted
many a deed of kindness which she never failed to carry out if it
were in her power to do so.
"But we have to stop as we come back, to tell her that you have the
prize," said Bessie.
"We will stop again and tell her who has gained it as we come back,"
answered Maggie. "But I think she will like it if we stop now, so
that she will know we are thinking about her and are so sorry that
she cannot be with us. But, Bessie, I think you are quite mistaken in
believing so surely that I will have the prize. I know quite well
that there are two or three who have improved in composition more
than I have."
Bessie made no reply in words, but shook her head as if unconvinced.
With Lena Neville and Gracie Howard out of the lists, she found it
quite impossible to believe that any one but her own Maggie could be
the successful competitor.
But all agreed that it would be well to call in and see Lena for a
moment and let her be sure that she was not forgotten.
"And," said Maggie, "there is the doctor's carriage at the door. We
will wait till he comes downstairs and ask him how soon Lena will be
able to go about and have a little excitement, so that we can arrange
about the fair. It is just a good chance for us. Then we will tell
Lena what he says if he is encouraging."
Maggie and Bessie were almost as much at home in Colonel Rush's house
as they were in their own, and had they chosen to go in and out
twenty times a day, they would always have been welcome; and the
young friends who accompanied them were about as much at their ease,
although not one among the quintette would ever have been obtrusive
or troublesome.
The doctor, who knew each one of them, being, as it happened, family
physician to their respective households, was just about taking leave
and was standing in the hall talking to Mrs. Rush.
"Hallo!" he said, his kindly face beaming upon the smiling flock who
trooped in when Starr opened the door for them. "Hallo! what a bevy
of birdlings! But how comes it that you are not at Miss Ashton's? I
have just left my Laura there, and she is in a state of frantic
expectation over this composition prize the finest authoress among
you is to gain this morning. Are none of you interested?"
"Oh, yes, sir, all of us," answered Lily Norris, always ready to be
spokeswoman; "we are going to Miss Ashton's in a few moments. But we
are not to be there until twelve o'clock, and it is not that yet. And
if the finest authoress is to have the prize, it will be Maggie's."
"So Laura seems to think," said Dr. Middleton, and shy Maggie, not
caring to put forth in his presence any further disclaimer to the
still undecided honors which her sister and friends seemed determined
to put upon her head, smiled doubtfully.
"Doctor," she said, "would you mind telling me how soon you think
Lena will be able to bear a little excitement?"
The doctor looked grave.
"My child," he said, "I fear Lena is under more excitement now than
is good for her." Then turning to Mrs. Rush, he added, "There is
little use in expecting her to make rapid progress while she is
fretting herself, as she is evidently doing, over some real or
imaginary evil. Do you think it possible," an idea occurring to him,
"that she is troubled about losing the chance to win this prize?"
"I scarcely think so," said Mrs. Rush. "She was even more than
anxious for it at one time; but the principal object for which she
wanted it is gained now, and she is not the child to fret herself
over a disappointed ambition."
"Well," said the doctor, "find out the trouble if you can. You cure
the mental ill and I will answer for the physical. But what is this
excitement you are speaking of, Maggie?"
"We are going to have a fair, Doctor," answered Maggie. "We wanted to
have it at Easter, but put it off because Lena is so lame and not
strong enough, and we would like to know how soon she will be well
enough."
The doctor thought a moment.
"Perhaps," he said, presently, "if she were interested in this fair
it might do her good and take her mind from whatever is troubling
her. Try it, Maggie; set the time for your fair at no distant date,
and see what it will do for her. Good-morning, Mrs. Rush. Good-by, my
Cheerybles." And the busy physician departed on his rounds.
"I believe it is the prize," said Lily, as the whole flock, bidden to
do so by Mrs. Rush, mounted the stairs to Lena's room. "I know that
Lena was perfectly crazy to have that prize so she could spite her
father and mother--and I would be, too, if I were she--and I am sure
she feels very badly about it."
"Why, Lily!" said Maggie.
"Well," said Lily, "I'm sure it's perfectly natural if she
does--_such_ a father and mother--specially mother. She's the
kind that always think they're right, and she turned up her nose at
Miss Ashton, and then she had to find out what a splendid teacher she
is, and Lena improved so much in composition and everything else
before she was burned that I expect she could have taken the prize
even before Maggie. She just wanted her mother to _know_ that
she couldn't do a better thing than to leave her with Miss Ashton to
the end of her days. And if you mean, Maggie, that I am not
respectful in my speaking of Mrs. Neville, I know I am not, and I
don't mean to be. Such an unmothery mother don't deserve any respect,
and I'm not going to give it to her."
"Hush!" said Maggie, as they reached the door of Lena's room.
Lily's strong impression that Lena was unhappy because of her
inability to compete for the prize was strengthened when she saw her,
and the other children were inclined to agree with her, for Lena
seemed so little disposed to talk upon the subject that they were all
convinced that it was a disagreeable one to her. The only voluntary
allusion she made to it was when Maggie bade her good-by with the
promise of a return after the matter had been decided; then she drew
her down to her and whispered, "I hope you will have it, Maggie, I
hope you will."
Maggie smoothed her cheek, smiled, and said:
"Thank you, dear; but I would rather have you well so that we may
have our fair. The doctor says he thinks you will soon be well enough
to come to it, and we are only waiting for that now."
Then the little party left with a renewed promise to return and let
her know how the day had turned, and took their way to Miss Ashton's.
All the "Cheeryble Sisters," save Lena Neville and Gracie Howard,
were present, each one full of eager expectancy, although there was
scarcely a doubt in any mind who would be the winner.
It had been impossible to induce Gracie to take any part or to show
any interest in the competition, and she had resolutely refused to
come with the rest of her classmates this morning, and there was no
obligation upon her to do so, as it was now holiday time and this was
something outside of the regular school duties.
Mr. Ashton, fond as he was of giving prizes and of stimulating the
emulation of his niece's pupils, was content to bring matters to a
speedy conclusion when the time arrived, and never detained the
little girls long or kept them in suspense by tiresome speeches.
So now in a few words he praised them for their earnest and faithful
efforts; said that he had been treated to a perusal of many of the
compositions written during the last term in order that he might
himself have an opportunity of judging whether Miss Ashton's verdict
were just, and that he had been both surprised and gratified to
observe the improvement made by almost every member of the class.
"But," he said in conclusion, "in comparing the compositions written
at the commencement of the term of trial and those last submitted to
Miss Ashton, I had, from my own unbiassed judgment, and before I had
learned the choice of your teacher, decided that the one best
entitled to the prize and the bestowal of this art education is Miss
Bessie Bradford."
"Excuse me, sir; you mean _Maggie_ Bradford," said Bessie, in
her own quiet, demure little way, still unable to shake off her
conviction that Maggie and no one but Maggie must be the winner, and
believing that Mr. Ashton had merely mistaken the name of the
sisters.
"No," said Mr. Ashton, smiling at her, "while giving all due credit
to your sister Maggie's compositions, which I have read with much
pleasure, I still repeat that no little girl in the class has made
such manifest improvement as yourself, and to you both your teacher
and myself award the prize."
"Thank you, sir," said Bessie, simply, but with a sparkle in her eye
and a flush of pleased surprise rising to her cheek, "thank you very
much. But, Miss Ashton"--turning to her teacher, "do you not think
that if Lena had been able to try with the rest of us all the time,
she would have been the one to gain this prize?"
Miss Ashton smiled kindly at her.
"Well, yes, Bessie," she said, with some seeming reluctance; "since
you ask me so plainly, I must say that had Lena been able to continue
in competition with the rest, I think she would have distanced every
one. I never saw such rapid improvement as she was making; her whole
heart seemed to be in it. My uncle was astonished at her progress in
that short time."
"Then," said Bessie, rising, "I think she ought to have the prize.
Please excuse me, sir,"--quaintly--"for saying _ought_ to you
and Miss Ashton, but it was not Lena's fault that she could not go on
trying with the rest of us, but only because she was so very brave
and unselfish in the fire. And if she improved so much in that time,
she would have improved a great deal more; and I think the prize
ought to be given to her. I am very glad you liked my compositions,
sir, but it would be a great deal more prize for me if Lena had it.
Please let her, Mr. Ashton. She has a very good and excellent reason,
too, for wanting it so much; it is so that her father and mother will
think Miss Ashton the best teacher that ever was, and let her stay
with her a very long time."
In her earnestness to carry her point she had forgotten that she was
saying so much; and she now stood looking from Mr. Ashton to his
niece, quite unembarrassed, but evidently set in this purpose.
Mr. Ashton looked at her, then turned to his niece; there was a
moment's whispered conversation between them, and then the gentleman
addressed himself to the class.
"What do you all say?" he asked. "Do you all agree that since Lena
Neville has been providentially prevented from continuing her
efforts, and since she made so much improvement while she was able to
enter the lists, that Bessie shall be permitted to resign this reward
to her, and that she shall be the one to name the candidate for my
trust?"
"Yes, sir; yes, sir," came without one dissenting voice from the
young group.
"Then you shall have the pleasure of telling this to Lena, Bessie,"
said Mr. Ashton. "You have certainly fairly earned that right."
"And," said Bessie, looking round upon her classmates, "if everybody
will be so kind as not to tell Lena that she was not chosen first. It
would be quite true, would it not, to say that she had done so well
at the first that we all thought it fair for her to have it?"
"It shall be as you say," said Mr. Ashton; then continued, "we all
bind ourselves, do we not, to do as Bessie wishes and to keep this
little transaction a secret among ourselves, making no mention to
Lena Neville that the prize was not awarded to her in the first
instance?"
"Unless she asks any questions; but I do not think she will," said
conscientious Bessie.
Miss Ashton came over to her with her eyes very suspiciously shining,
and stooping down kissed Bessie, saying, "You blessed child!" while
Maggie, always readily moved to tears or smiles, as befitted the
occasion, put her arms about Bessie's neck, and grasping her
teacher's skirts with the other hand and laying her head against her,
began to cry softly.
But sentiment and Lily Norris could not long exist in the same
atmosphere, and she now exclaimed:
"How I wish we were all boys just for ten minutes, so we could give
three cheers and a tiger for Bessie and three more for Lena. I
suppose it wouldn't do, would it, Miss Ashton?"
"Hardly for little girls," said Miss Ashton, although she herself
looked very much as if she were ready to lead a round of applause.
"Well, we can clap, anyway," said Lily, "that's girly enough," and
she forthwith set the example, which was speedily followed by the
rest, Mr. Ashton himself joining in from his post at his niece's
desk.
"I'd like to give thirty-three groans for Mrs. Neville," said Lily,
in an undertone, "but I suppose we couldn't."
There was little doubt that the whole class were even better pleased
to have the decision given in favor of Lena than they had been for
Bessie, favorite though she was, so strongly had their sympathies
been aroused for the former.
Imagine the surprise and delight of Lena when the news was brought to
her by her jubilant little friends. She could hardly believe it,
hardly believe that in spite of her enforced absence from school, in
spite of her inability to hand in her compositions for so many weeks,
she had been the one to receive this much coveted opportunity, and
that she was not only free to bestow it upon her own little
country-woman, but that her own credit would redound to that of Miss
Ashton.
Of how Gladys received the gift--for her parents set aside all
Harley's objections to her doing so--of how she became warm friends
with nearly all of our "Cheeryble Sisters," and of what came of that
may be read later on in "Maggie Bradford's Fair."
End of Project Gutenberg's Bessie Bradford's Prize, by Joanna H. Mathews