"I wonder if I could trust you children to go out alone this morning,"
said Mrs. Ferrars. "I don't want to deprive nurse of her holiday, and I
must see Cousin Lily: she is not so well to-day."
"Oh! yes, mother," cried Dolly and Ralph together. "May we go on the
ice?"
"Well, it is just because I said you might, that I feel a little
anxious," said Mrs. Ferrars, stroking Dolly's fair hair. "My Dolly
sometimes forgets mother's wishes for her own; still, as it is the last
day at home, I feel inclined to trust you."
"Of course, mother," said Ralph confidently, "I'll take care of Dolly;
all the boys will be there, and heaps of people we know."
"You won't skate beyond the point?" said mother; "never mind if the
others do or not; remember you are both on your honor."
Full of delight, the children bounded off, skates in hand, and soon
arrived at the gay scene by the frozen lake. The ice was already crowded
with skaters, big and little, and Ralph and Dolly espied two or three of
their friends as busy as themselves fastening on skates.
The band played, the sun shone, and merry voices and laughter echoed
through the frosty air.
"Let's have races!" cried Frank, one of Ralph's schoolfellows. "You take
your sister, I'll take mine."
They all four flew across the ice, backwards and forwards again and
again, Frank and his sister winning at every turn.
"Now change partners," said Frank, pairing off with Dolly, "perhaps that
will be fairer."
"I'm rather tired of going over the same road," said Dolly presently, as
she and Frank stood resting, while the other two ran a short race by
themselves. "It looks so lovely out there. A broad sheet of ice without
any one on it, and all the trees at the foot of the terrace bending over
the lake. See, Frank, icicles are hanging from every twig; wouldn't you
like to go close to them?"
[Illustration: Ring Happy Bells Across the Snow]
"Perhaps it isn't safe," replied Frank. "No one seems to venture so far;
I shouldn't wonder if the ice were thin."
"But our weight would be nothing on such a great space," urged Dolly. "I
don't mean far off, only just beyond the point."
Mother's words came back to her, but mother did not know. She was not
there to see how beautiful it all was, and of course Dolly did not mean
to run into danger.
They began skating near the point. Again Dolly turned towards the
terrace.
"Oh, Frank! I must," she said. "I see a long icicle like a sword with a
hilt; it's on a low branch--you can reach it for me." She sped away, and
Frank followed. In a moment they were side by side, and close to the
coveted icicle. As Frank raised himself to grasp it, he saw a thin
stream of water welling up from beneath the ice on to the bank. He
seized Dolly's hand. "Back, back!" he cried wildly. "The ice is giving,
we shall go in." Away they fled. The ice creaked, but their weight was
light, and once more the point was gained in safety.
"Dolly," said Ralph, hurrying up to his sister, "have you forgotten what
mother said?"
"No," replied Dolly, trying to laugh, though really ready to cry after
the fright she had undergone; "but mother isn't here to see the icicles.
I wanted one for her, and--"
"We are on our honor," said Ralph, "and I trusted you too, when you went
off with Frank."
Dolly's tears began to fall. "I won't tell tales of you," said Ralph.
"Perhaps I am partly to blame, I ought not to have left you. Come and
skate with me, now."
"I don't want to. I'll go home," said Dolly.
Mother did not come back to lunch. She sent round a note to say she was
staying with Lily; and by and by when she returned, her heart was so
full of sorrow for the suffering child that she forgot to ask about the
morning's pleasure. If Dolly was silent, mother thought it was from
sympathy with herself.
The next day school began. All thoughts of skating were banished; there
was a prize to be fought for, and Dolly had set her heart on winning it.
Somehow the spirit that had hitherto animated her now failed. The world
seemed all out of tune. Again and again she was on the point of
confessing her wrong-doing, as mother bent above her for a good-night
kiss. But weeks passed, and still the words remained unspoken. Ralph
never mentioned the ice; yet Dolly fancied he had loved her less since
that morning.
"You musn't be too anxious about the prize, Dolly, darling," said her
mother, noticing the tired face, "or I am afraid you will fall ill from
worry. I am quite glad to think the breaking-up party is to-morrow.
Mind, dear, I shall not be disappointed if you fail. I can trust my
child, and I know she has done her best."
Dolly flushed crimson. Her mother trusted her, and imagined she knew
every thought of her childish heart. How little mother knew the misery
Dolly was enduring!
All was excitement at the school. The prize-giving only took place once
a year, and many and great were the hopes and fears on that eventful
day. Some girls were of opinion that Dolly would carry off the coveted
prize, others that she had lost ground of late, and failed utterly.
Dolly, quite aware of her shortcomings, was yet vaguely longing for
success. Her rival in the class was older and cleverer than herself, but
without the perseverance that characterized Dolly, therefore Dolly hoped
on until the prize-giving began.
Everything passed as in a dream, until Dolly's class was mentioned, when
Miss Danvers, the head mistress, in a short speech declared that the
prize had been won, after a severe struggle, by Lucy Trevor. At the same
time she was giving a special prize, because of the good conduct and
perfect uprightness and truth of the unsuccessful competitor. This prize
she awarded to Dolly Ferrars. She held up a beautiful Bible, bound in
white vellum.
"This is the prize of honor," she said.
Dolly's heart stood still. She had forgotten her disappointment about
the class prize in an overwhelming sense of shame.
"Go up, Dolly," said mother proudly.
"I can't," said Dolly. "I--I--"
"Go on, darling," said mother, gently pushing her. And Dolly went.
In silence she accepted the Bible, and laid it on her mother's knee.
"I am so tired," she said.
"We will go now," whispered mother. "The excitement has been too much
for you."
They slipped quietly away and returned home.
"Mother!" cried Dolly, as they were alone. "Oh, mother dear, I can't
take that prize, I don't deserve it. I have failed in truth and honor. I
am so miserable!"
Mrs. Ferrars, bewildered at Dolly's words, soothed her while she poured
out the story of her conduct on the ice.
"And I have no right to the prize," she said. "What shall I do?"
"We will return it to Miss Danvers," said mother, gently; "at least for
a time." She looked very pale and sad. "But, darling," she added, as she
folded Dolly in her arms, "if you are really sorry and have through
repentance learned to conquer in the fight between right and wrong, you
are still a winner of the true prize of honor!"
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The WAVES.
A pert little wave by the sea-shore one day,
Came dashing along in its impudent way;
A wee little maiden was straying too near.
Said the wavelet--I'll catch you my child, never fear,
"I will carry you home to a bed in the sea,
"I will rock you as snug as on Mother's own knee."
But the child answered merrily, Mother is near,
"So dash away, splash away, I do not fear
"Dash away, splash away, back to the sea,
"Mother is keeping her watch over me."
A cruel wave rolled o'er the night clouded sea,
And the sailors were fearful as e're they could be,
The vessel lay tossing, the north wind blew drear,
Said the wave, "I will rock you to sleep, never fear,"
But a brave tar looked up, with a light in his eye,
And a swift prayer was sent thro the threatening sky
To his heart came the answer, in voice, sweet and clear,
"Ye shall weather the tempest true heart, never fear."
Splash away, dash away, danger is past,
The vessel is anchored, in harbour at last.