TESSA.
Katie Robertson remained in the mill that Saturday afternoon, although
her work had long been completed, till the bell rang for five o'clock,
that being the hour for the Saturday dismissal. Then she said to
Tessa:--
"Come and take a walk with me. There's a full hour before tea, and I
don't believe you've ever seen the Fawn's Leap. Have you?"
"No," said her companion, "I have never been anywhere in Squantown. They
would not let us go, in the poor-house, and since I've been in the mill
I've been too tired after work was over."
"Are you very tired now?"
"Not so very; I did not sleep much last night."
"Was it a _very_ interesting story?" said the other, archly.
"Oh, yes," said Tessa, becoming at once very much excited; "she,
Amanda, I mean, married the most elegant count, and he took her to his
castle, and she had pearls and diamonds and silks and satins, and never
had to do a thing all the rest of her life; and only think, Katie, she
was a mill-girl in the beginning, just like us." The sentence finished
with a sigh.
"Would you like a count to come and carry you off to a castle by-and-by,
and give you all those things?"
"Oh, indeed, yes; when the light goes out, and I can't read any more I
lie awake thinking about it, and wondering if such a count will ever
come along. He might, you know, any day."
"Does that make the mill seem any pleasanter in the morning?"
"No! no! I hate the mill. It looks so rough and bare, and the girls all
seem so common. I feel like crying to have to spend so many hours
there."
"And then you can't do your work well. I know just how that feels. Miss
Eunice says it isn't _honest_ to do anything that will unfit us for the
work we are paid for doing."
This was a new definition of dishonesty to Tessa, but she only said:--
"Who's Miss Eunice?"
"Oh, she's the teacher of the Bible-class; the nicest, most splendid
lady in the Sunday-school, except, of course, Miss Etta. She's our
teacher, you know, but she's so young she seems just like one of
ourselves."
"Do you go to Sunday-school?" said Tessa opening her eyes. "I thought
only little children went. Father said it was so in Italy."
"But everybody goes here. There's great big girls, quite young women, in
Miss Eunice's class. Tessa," said Katie, struck with a sudden idea,
"what do you do with yourself on Sundays?"
"I read," said the person addressed; "read all day long. I lie on the
bed in my room, and forget how hot it is and how lonely, and then when
it gets dark I remember beautiful Italy and cry."
"What a lonely life," said Katie, sympathetically. "Why don't you go to
church?"
"We never went to church, my father and I. He said the church had
ruined Italy, and he was not a Catholic any more."
"But we're not Catholics. Oh, I wish you would come to our church and
our Sunday-school! It's just as nice!--there's Miss Etta, and Bertie and
Gretchen and Cora, and two or three more, and on Wednesday Miss Eunice
invites our class and hers to tea, and reads to us, and we have a
society and work for missions and--oh, it's so nice!" said enthusiastic
Katie.
"Do you go to Sunday-school just to have nice times?" and Tessa opened
her black eyes very widely.
"No," said her friend, more soberly; "I think I go there to learn more
about Jesus, and how to love him more and serve him better. Some of us
hope to join the church soon."
Tessa asked some questions that led to a long talk which lasted till
they had reached the Fawn's Leap, which was a beautiful little waterfall
shooting down between two high rocks, from one of which to the other a
fawn was reputed to have sprung. It was a very lovely spot, and the two
girls threw themselves upon the grass to rest, while the Italian drew
long inspirations of delight.
"It makes me think of home," she said; "the old home in Italy. We
lived, my father and I, close to a waterfall just like this, among the
mountains. After my mother died my father did not want to stay there, so
he went to Naples and bought an organ, and we came to America in a big
ship, and wandered about, and then"--her voice broke down then and she
said: "Oh, Katie, I am so lonely! if I only had a home like yours, with
people in it to talk to and to be kind to me, I should not want to read
so many stories. I don't believe they _are_ good for me." This was in
reference to all Miss Eunice's talk about the evils of novel-reading as
repeated by Katie.
A sudden thought struck the latter.
"Tessa," she said, "it must be awfully lonely at your boarding-house in
the evenings and on Sundays. I wish you could come and live with me. I
have no companions but the boys, and to have you would be just
splendid."
"Do you think I could? Do you think your mother would let me? Oh, Katie,
you can't really mean it!"
Katie had not taken her mother into consideration. Of course, she could
not be sure of her approbation of such a plan, but she promised to ask,
and went on planning how nice it would be--how the two girls could share
Katie's room and bed; how they could go to the mill together. "And
then," said she, "you could go to Sunday-school with me, Tessa."
But here Tessa drew back. She had no clothes, she said, fit to go to
church in--only her working-dress and the straw hat which she wore every
day to the mill.
"Go in that. Miss Eunice says God doesn't care what we wear when we go
to church."
"But the girls do, and I care more about them."
This rather shocked Katie, but she did not see her way out of the
difficulty, and mentally resolved to "ask mother": that way out of all
difficulties which is first to suggest itself to a young girl's mind.
"There is the sun setting," said Tessa.--"It must be ever so late. I
sha'n't get any supper; they never keep anything for us at our
boarding-house."
"Oh, yes, you will! you are coming home with me; mother will have
something ready for both of us. I told her where we were going, and she
promised she would keep our supper for us, no matter how late it was.
Besides, it will be a good chance to ask her about our plan."
So Tessa consented, nothing loth, and when she saw the fair, white
cloth, with the clear glasses and bright, shining china, the delicate
slices of white bread, the wild strawberries, and fresh brown
gingerbread, and contrasted it with the bare table, the stoneware badly
chipped, and the great piles of coarse provisions, into which the
boarders dipped their own knives, she felt as though she had suddenly
got into paradise.
Katie had told the home party about her Italian companion, and her
apparent friendlessness, and all had taken such an interest in her that
when the boys heard their sister ask and receive permission to bring her
home to tea, and their mother's promise to make some soft gingerbread,
they resolved to contribute their share toward the festival, and the
strawberries, to gathering which they had devoted their afternoon
holiday, were the result.
It was a very happy tea-party. Katie was in high spirits, her mother
gentle and hospitable, the boys courteous and gentlemanly. Tessa had
never been in such society before, and yet there was in her a native
grace and refinement--due, perhaps, to the artistic atmosphere in which
she was born--that prevented her from doing anything rude or awkward, or
seeming at all out of place.
After tea the boys brought out the games, and the visitor showed herself
quick to learn and eager to enjoy. The heavy, half-sorrowful look went
out of her face, which became full of fun as her eyes sparkled and
danced, and she pushed back her long black hair.
When the clock struck nine Mrs. Robertson said:--
"It is time for young folks who have to get up early to go to bed. The
boys will see you home, dear; but perhaps you would like to stay and
have prayers with us first."
"Oh, yes, I am sure she would," said Katie, seeing that her friend
seemed not to know how to answer this proposition. So Eric handed his
mother the books, and she first read a chapter in the Bible, and then
kneeling down, with her little flock around her, read an evening prayer,
commending them all to the love and protection of their heavenly Father.
It all seemed very sweet to the visitor, who had never been present at
such a service before. She could not probably have told how she felt,
but a longing desire came over her to stay where everything seemed so
near the gate of heaven, and she said impulsively:--
"Oh, Mrs. Robertson, if you would only keep me always!"
Then Katie said:--
"Mother, why can't Tessa live with us? There's plenty of room for her
with me; and she has nobody belonging to her--nothing but a horrid room
in the factory boarding-house, where nobody cares for her, and she has
to read novels all the evening and all Sunday, and that makes her sick.
It would be so nice to have her go to the mill with me every day, and to
Sunday-school on Sunday--only she hasn't any clothes that are fit,
and"--
"My dear, do stop to take your breath," said the astonished mother, "and
let me get some idea of what you are talking about. Do I understand
that you want Tessa to come and live here? I should much like to have
her do so, my child, but you know--don't think me unkind, Tessa--that we
are poor people, and find it hard to fill the four mouths that must be
filled."
"Oh, I didn't mean that," said the girl, timidly, and turning crimson.
"Of course, I wouldn't let you and Katie support me; but I could pay you
my board, just as I do at the boarding-house. I suppose it would be
more, but perhaps I could work harder and earn something extra, as some
of the other girls do."
"How much do you pay now?"
"Two dollars and a half a week."
"And you have only three dollars! Katie makes five."
"Yes, I know; she works fast. Perhaps I could if there was any
use--anything to do it for. I didn't need any money. They gave me my
clothes at the workhouse, and I bought books with the other
half-dollar."
Both girls looked very beseechingly at Katie's mother, and Eric, who
had taken a great fancy to the dark-haired girl, added his entreaties;
but she said:--
"I can not answer you to-night; I must think about it and pray over it.
I will let you know when I have made up my mind. Now you must go home,
dear; Eric will go with you. Good-night, and God bless you."
Tessa felt the kiss that accompanied these words down to the bottom of
her heart. No one had ever kissed her before, so far as she could
remember, except her father, and she longed most ardently to be taken
into this home.
Katie followed her to the door and whispered: "Tessa, I shall ask God to
make mother decide the way we want her to. You ask him, too. You know it
says in the Bible: 'If any two of you shall agree on earth as touching
any thing that they shall ask, it shall be done for them.'" But Tessa did
not yet understand about "asking God." She only stared and bid her
friend good-night.
The next morning as she sat rather disconsolately on the doorstep of the
boarding-house, not knowing exactly what to do with herself, for in
consequence of last night's visiting she had neglected to provide
herself with a new book, Katie came by and greeted her brightly. She
looked so sweet and fresh in her simple Sunday dress that it was not to
be wondered at that Tessa, in her soiled mill-clothes, again refused to
accompany her friend to Sunday-school.
"You shall have my library book, any way. I don't care to get another
to-day, and mother says you are to come round this afternoon to get her
answer."
The book was a pleasant story, and though it lacked the species of
morbid excitement to which the girl had accustomed herself, it filled up
the time agreeably, and gave her a glimpse of a higher, purer plane of
life than any with which she was as yet familiar. Some precious truths
concerning the love of the Lord Jesus Christ, and the happiness of
serving him, were woven into it, and served as the indestructible seeds
which were yet to ripen in the girl's spiritual life. At about four
o'clock she put on her hat, and full of mingled anxiety and hope, made
her way to the corner house which seemed to her so much like heaven.
Meanwhile, Mrs. Robertson had thought the matter over in every
direction. She did not at first like the idea of increasing the home
party, or of introducing into it any element that might prove
discordant. She dreaded to have Katie or the boys come under any
influence that might counteract the earnest, religious training she was
endeavoring to give her children. But there seemed to be nothing
vicious, or even common, about Tessa; she was sweet and well-mannered,
and so friendless and forlorn that it would be a positive charity to
take her in. Then, too, the girl had evidently had no religious teaching
and was profoundly ignorant about spiritual things. Perhaps this was
missionary work sent to her very hands. She might at least try it for a
while. The board to be paid would make it possible to do so, and if the
plan were not a success, or proved hurtful to her own children, to whom
she owed her first duty, she could but send the girl back to her present
lodgings.
So, when Tessa came she was told, to her great joy, that her request
was granted, and she might commence her new life on Monday. A very
serious motherly talk followed, and among other things the new boarder
was obliged to promise never to introduce sensational literature into
the house.
Mrs. Robertson agreed to take Tessa for two dollars a week, on condition
that she would assist Katie with the housework before and after
mill-hours. The half-dollar a week thus saved would soon procure a
simple Sunday outfit, and enable her to accompany her friend to
Sunday-school and church.
Katie, with some of the remains of her precious fifty dollars, insisted
on advancing this; and on the first Sunday morning the young Italian,
looking very pretty but rather shy, took her place in Miss Etta's class,
and was at once enrolled among its members.
Mrs. Robertson never had cause to regret her kind-hearted decision.
Tessa was devotedly attached to Katie, and followed, rather than led,
her friend. She was shy with the boys at first, but soon came to show
them the same sisterly feeling that their sister did. Her wit,
quickness, and power of story-telling soon made her a valuable addition
to the family circle, while the genial home influences and good fare so
told upon herself that her extreme delicacy soon disappeared, and she
became capable of as much work or endurance as Katie herself.