A CONSULTATION.
“What have you been doing to-day?” Mr. Richards asked, in cold, stern
tones, after what seemed an interminable pause.
Stella began to feel almost faint. That hard face, in which displeasure
was the chief expression, did not look very promising for her cause; but
she replied:
“I have done all the chamber-work, swept and dusted five rooms, and
waited upon Mrs. Richards.”
“You are not accustomed to such work,” he said, glancing at her delicate
hands.
“Not to any such extent, sir. Mamma used to require me to take care of
the music-room, besides my own, at home, for we could keep only one
servant, and I _know how_ to sweep, and dust, and make beds,” Star
concluded, with a slight smile.
“I should say that you know a good many things for so young a lady,” Mr.
Richards said, kindly, for he saw that she was nervous over what she had
been telling him. Then he added, more gravely: “I will consult with Mrs.
Richards, and I think that we can arrange for you to pursue your
education as you desire.”
Star flushed.
She knew well enough that a mere consultation with Mrs. Richards would
not secure much for her, and that she would be very angry with her for
having appealed to her husband, and she made up her mind on the spot to
make a bold stroke for her freedom.
So meeting his eyes in a frank, fearless way, yet speaking with the
utmost respect, she said:
“I feel confident from the conversation which I had with Mrs. Richards
this morning, that she will be very unwilling to make any change in her
arrangements, so I will be perfectly frank and say to you, that much as
I should dislike to take any radical steps in opposition to her, or my
father’s desire that I should remain with her, yet I _cannot_ consent to
remain here as a common servant, with no privileges or time to myself. I
presume Mrs. Richards will say that, as she has been appointed my
guardian, I shall have to do just as she desires. But I have read
somewhere that when an orphan in this country reaches a certain age, he
has the privilege of choosing a guardian for himself. Rather than be
subjected to the fate of becoming a second Maggie Flynn,” Star
continued, her voice gathering firmness, “I shall exercise that
privilege. Thank you for listening so kindly to my troubles, and I trust
I have not wearied you. Good-night.”
Without waiting for him to reply, she inclined her head in a graceful
bow, and quietly glided from the room.
“By George!” exploded Mr. Richards, staring blankly after her retreating
form, “that is what I call spirit. Make a common servant of such a girl
as that, indeed! My lady and I will talk this matter over, and
see—_what_ we shall see.”
Half an hour later he sought an interview with his wife, and there
followed “a consultation” in earnest.
Mrs. Richards was dumfounded upon being informed of the decided stand
which her spirited little ward had taken, and her indignation in
consequence knew no bounds.
“The impudent little beggar!” she ejaculated, crimson with rage. “Does
she expect to rule me, or balk me like this? She will find herself
greatly mistaken. I will give her a dose in the morning—‘_such_ a dose,’
as Mr. Flintwinch was wont to remark to his beloved Affery.”
“Ellen, you will do no such thing,” her husband returned, firmly. “Have
you forgotten Mr. Gladstone’s letter to you and your reply to him? When
you wrote accepting the guardianship of his daughter, you did so in a
way to lead him to believe that you would do your best for her.”
“And so I am doing my best for her,” interrupted his wife. “You have
talked of nothing but retrenchment for the last six months, and I have
_tried_ to retrench. I knew the coming of this girl would make an extra
mouth to feed, so I made up my mind to make her useful, and save
something if I could.”
“Well, the child says she is willing to be useful, but you are not
fulfilling your agreement by making a drudge of her. Mr. Gladstone
understood that you would give careful attention to her education, which
he evidently has conducted upon the most thorough principles, and he
expected that you would fill as far as possible his place toward her.”
“How do you know what I wrote to him? You did not see my letter,”
demanded Mrs. Richards, angrily.
“I have seen it to-night. The girl has it, and showed it to me; and now
I want you to live up to your promises,” replied her husband, gravely.
“She ought to be thankful that she has a roof to shelter her. Do you
suppose I am going to allow her to interfere with Josephine’s rights?”
“Certainly not; but this girl is exceedingly bright and pretty; let them
become mates and share alike, and I’ll wager that Star will never abuse
your indulgence,” Mr. Richards said, generously.
“And who may ‘Star’ be?” demanded his wife, scornfully.
“Why, Stella, of course—Star was the name, I suppose, by which she was
known at home. Now, I insist,” he continued, with decision, “that this
child be given a fair chance.”
“How about retrenchment if you have _two_ fine young ladies to support
instead of one?” sneered Mrs. Richards.
“Oh, bother! we’ll make it up in some other way. I’ll sell one of my
horses; you can give up a new gown once in awhile.”
“Not if I know myself, Mr. Richards. I do not intend that this girl
shall interfere with my comfort in the least degree,” interrupted the
lady, with a frown.
“Well, we will manage in some way; but,” he added, beginning to get out
of patience with her selfishness and heartlessness, “I swear, if you
won’t promise to treat her considerately, and she repudiates you as her
guardian, I will get her to choose me in your place, and I’ll treat her
like a young princess—send her to Vassar, or any other first-class
school she may choose, regardless of the cost.”
“George Richards,” cried his wife, with flashing eyes, “if you take up
weapons against me in this way, I never will forgive you.”
“Can’t help it,” he retorted, coolly. “I’ll not have that girl made a
common drudge of in this house while I am master here. How you could
meditate such a thing for a moment is more than I can understand. Where
is the gratitude for the life which her mother saved for you so many
years ago?”
Mrs. Richards started slightly. She had not intended that her husband
should ever know of the debt which she owed Star’s mother.
“I suppose she had to twit you of that in order to gain her point and
make you her champion,” she said, sarcastically.
“No, indeed. I asked her what her father meant by his allusion to the
service rendered you, and to which he referred in his letter, and she
told me of course, though in a very modest way, that her mother once
saved you from drowning. Now, I want you to change your tactics. I want
you to allow her to be one of the family.”
“I _never_ will do that, Mr. Richards, and it is useless for you to
suggest it,” Mrs. Richards interrupted, hotly. “I could never endure the
sight of the girl at my table after this, and Josephine, I know, would
not consent to it. Any one can see by the course she has pursued
to-night with you that she is full of art and intrigue, and would not
hesitate to interfere with Josie’s plans and prospects.”
“Oh, ho! you’re afraid she will outshine Jo, are you?” laughed her
husband, good-naturedly. “I should think one would set the other off,
Star being so light and Jo so dark, and I should really enjoy seeing two
pretty girls flitting about the house.”
“I will never put Stella Gladstone on an equal footing with my daughter,
so you can cease arguing upon that point,” reiterated Mrs. Richards,
with a positiveness that was not to be mistaken.
“If you insist,” she continued, after a minute’s thought, “upon her
being allowed to pursue her education, since she makes such a parade of
being a bookworm, let her; I will not interfere. But _I_ insist, on the
other hand, that she make herself useful. She must work about the house
before and after school, and do something in return for her support—more
than this I will not concede;” and Mr. Richards, having gained this
point, considered that he had won quite a victory for his wife’s pretty
ward.
“Very well,” he said; “I presume she will be satisfied with this
arrangement. She said she was willing to work if she might only be
allowed to study.”
“Satisfied or not, it is all the concession that I shall make; and mark
my words, George, I shall not _love_ her any better for this
interference on your part,” his wife said, hotly.
“Fie, Ellen! I thought you had a warmer heart; and it would not sound
well outside if it should become known that you were making a servant of
a relative. It would make quite a stir, let me tell you, if she should
appeal to the courts to have a new guardian appointed,” Mr. Richards
returned, in a conciliatory tone.
Thus the matter was settled, to Star’s great joy. Mr. Richards made
arrangements at once for her to enter a select school for young ladies,
which was located quite near their residence, and she began her
attendance there the following Monday, having passed a most “creditable
examination,” the principal informed her.
When she was advised of this pleasant change in her life, she thanked
Mrs. Richards in a few well-chosen words for consenting to it; but the
irate woman shut her up instantly by saying:
“You owe me nothing, and I wish the subject never mentioned again in my
presence. You will assist about the chamber-work in the morning before
it is time for you to go to school, and help Mrs. Blunt with the mending
on your return in the afternoon. Miss Baker will attend to the provision
of suitable clothing for you, and you will work with her Saturdays. Now
we will consider this matter disposed of until such time as you may deem
your education finished;” and with this heartless speech, Star was
summarily dismissed from the august matron’s presence.
She was greatly rejoiced with even this ungracious permission to pursue
her studies, and the hours spent in the school-room were a source of
great delight to her; but her position at home was anything but
agreeable.
Mr. Richards treated her kindly whenever he chanced to meet her, but his
wife and daughter ignored her presence when they could do so; when they
could not, they took pains to make her feel her obligations and
dependence in the most uncomfortable manner.
With Mrs. Blunt she was comparatively happy, for the woman, though
brusque and peculiar, was very kind-hearted, seeming to have conceived a
great liking for the lonely orphan; and often she would sit up late at
night to get the piles of mending out of the way, in order that Star—who
was studying very hard to make up for having entered school in the
middle of a term—might have more time to herself.
Miss Baker, the seamstress, too, was very kind to her, and her Saturdays
were often passed very pleasantly in sewing and chatting in the cozy
sewing-room.
She left home at a quarter to nine in the morning, and did not return
until half-past four in the afternoon, taking a luncheon and spending
the nooning in the school-room.
This was not done on account of the distance, but because the dinner
hour at the Richards’ mansion conflicted with the school hours.
By staying at noon thus Star gained an hour’s practice on one of the
pianos, with no one to interrupt her, and this was a season of unalloyed
delight to her. Nothing had been said to her about continuing her
music—Mrs. Richards had vetoed all accomplishments on account of the
extra expense—but she could not give it up, so pursued a course of
faithful practice by herself.
Not a moment was wasted. She arose with the dawn, and every morning for
an hour she might have been seen bending over her small table, busily
engaged in writing or study.
All her duties were faithfully performed; beds had never been so well
made before, rooms were never so carefully swept and dusted, or so
tastefully arranged; and yet one would scarcely have mistrusted her
presence in the house, everything was done so quietly and unobtrusively.
This general exercise, together with her brisk walk before and after her
school, was very beneficial to her health. She grew tall, and round, and
rosy, and in beauty every day.
Saturdays Miss Baker’s weary face would brighten as Star sat and chatted
in a merry, entertaining way, whiling away the long hours, her busy
fingers often lightening her labors when there was no sewing to be done
for herself, until she began to love the sweet young girl with a deep,
warm affection, and to look forward to those weekly diversions almost as
if they had been angels’ visits.
Star was very tasteful also, and often suggested changes in trimming and
the arrangement of drapery, thus making great improvements in her work,
while, in spite of Mrs. Richards’ commands that “everything for Miss
Gladstone be as plain as respectability would allow,” she took pains to
fit the young girl’s figure with great nicety, and added many graceful
touches to her otherwise simple dresses.
All winter long Star pursued this busy life, improving every moment to
the best advantage, making every hour count; and one morning, getting
through her work earlier than usual, she might have been seen stealing
forth from that elegant mansion a half hour before the regular time, her
cheeks flushed with some inward excitement, her eyes gleaming, yet
somewhat anxious, and carrying in her hands a goodly sized package
neatly wrapped in brown paper.
She took an opposite direction from the usual route to school, and
walked hurriedly toward the business portion of the city.
At the end of twenty minutes she stopped before the door of a large and
handsome store, where for a moment she seemed to hesitate as if
uncertain what to do next.
At last, with fluctuating color and trembling hand, she turned the
handle and entered.
A little while passed, and then she came forth again, while now she
appeared pale and agitated.
As the door closed after her, she stood still for a moment upon the
sidewalk, seeming lost in troubled thought; then a tremulous sigh, which
was almost a sob, broke from her lips, and she turned and walked toward
her school.