[Illustration: School Girls in No. 40.--Frontispiece.
“How am I ever to get all these things into two trunks?” p. 9.]
[Illustration]
THE
SCHOOL-GIRLS IN NUMBER 40;
OR,
PRINCIPLE PUT TO THE TEST.
“Let him that thinketh he standeth take heed lest he fall.”
PHILADELPHIA:
AMERICAN SUNDAY-SCHOOL UNION,
1122 CHESTNUT STREET.
NEW YORK DEPOSITORY: 375 BROADWAY.
_Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1859, by the
AMERICAN SUNDAY-SCHOOL UNION,
in the Clerk’s Office of the District Court of the Eastern District of
Pennsylvania._
-->_No books are published by the_ AMERICAN SUNDAY-SCHOOL UNION
_without the sanction of the Committee of Publication, consisting of
fourteen members, from the following denominations of Christians, viz.:
Baptist, Methodist, Congregational, Episcopal, Presbyterian, Lutheran,
and Reformed Dutch. Not more than three of the members can be of the
same denomination, and no book can be published to which any member of
the Committee shall object._
CONTENTS.
PAGE
CHAP. I.--A REMOVAL 9
II.--GETTING SETTLED 30
III.--OLD FRIENDS AND NEW 33
IV.--THE TABLEAUX PARTY 44
V.--A TRAP SET 62
VI.--CAUGHT 71
VII.--ANOTHER MYSTERY 85
VIII.--THE SECRET OUT 93
THE SCHOOL-GIRLS IN No. 40.
CHAPTER I.
A REMOVAL.
“Dear me! dear me!” sighed Carrie Stanley, as she kneeled beside an
empty trunk and glanced around her room. “How am I ever to get all
these things into two trunks? It’s an impossibility! Where to begin I’m
sure I don’t know.”
It was not surprising that Carrie was puzzled as to the proper mode
of procedure; for that usually neat apartment was in a state nearly
approaching to perfect confusion. The wardrobe stood open, displaying
empty hooks; for the dresses and other articles of apparel which
had hung upon them had been taken away and were piled, without order
or arrangement, on the chairs and bedstead. The four bureau-drawers,
instead of being in their proper places, were all upon the floor,
forming a barricade about the trunk; the book-shelves, too, had been
rifled, and their contents were strewn over the dressing-table, from
which some of them had fallen to find a resting-place upon the pretty
carpet. Indeed, it would have required no little care and skill, in
moving about the chamber, to avoid stepping on books, glove-boxes,
perfumery-bottles, and the like, which were strewed around everywhere
but where they should have been.
Carrie’s glance around the disordered room seemed only to add to her
perplexities; and, tossing back her bright curls, she bent over the
large trunk, looking into its depths with a thoughtful air, as if
studying the best possible arrangement. She did not appear to derive
much satisfaction from her investigations; for, before she had put in a
single article, her mother stopped at the open door and looked on the
scene of confusion. A roguish smile parted her lips, as she stood for a
moment looking on quietly without a word.
“My dear Carrie,” she said, at last, “this is a perfect chaos!”
“I know it, mother,” returned the girl, starting up. “I was just
wondering if I ever could put things in any sort of order again. But I
must have another trunk. All these clothes and books will never go into
two, no matter how large they are. Look for yourself, mother. It is
quite out of the question. What do you think about it?”
“I think that two trunks will be quite sufficient, after we lay aside
all the articles not absolutely necessary.” And, suiting the action
to the word, Mrs. Stanley selected several dresses from the heap of
clothing on the bed, saying, “Just put these in the wardrobe again.”
“What, mother! My pretty pink tarletane to be left behind,--and this
green silk, so becoming to me?” exclaimed Carrie, in a tone of
expostulation.
“Yes,” replied her mother, decidedly, as she proceeded to separate
other articles in the same way.
At first Carrie’s fair brow clouded, as she saw her prettiest dresses,
her nicest linen and her most interesting books consigned to their
resting-places on shelves, in drawers and closets again; but, quickly
recovering her good humour, she followed her mother’s directions, and
ere long the trunks were all packed, locked, strapped and ready, even
the cards marked
+------------------------+
| MISS CAROLINE STANLEY, |
| Manchester, |
| Mass. |
+------------------------+
and nailed on the ends.
The pretty little room was once more in order; but it looked desolate
indeed. Mrs. Stanley could not help sighing deeply, and tears filled
her eyes as she looked around her; while Carrie, all unconscious of her
mother’s sadness, danced about in high glee, declaring that she “was
never so happy in all her life.”
“Oh, mother, can it be possible,” she exclaimed, “that I am actually
going away to school,--to boarding-school, too, where I have wanted to
go so long? Oh, it is too delightful! It seems almost too good to be
true!”
Mrs. Stanley smiled faintly.
“When you have put on your travelling-dress, my dear, come to me, in my
room,” she said. “I want to see you and Susie together once more before
you go. I must see if Susie needs any help now. You can dress for your
journey without any further assistance from me, can’t you?”
“Oh, yes, indeed, mother,” returned Caroline; and Mrs. Stanley walked
away, crossed the wide hall and entered another apartment.
A young girl about the same age as Carrie was the only occupant of this
room. She was dressed in deep mourning, and was sitting by the open
window, looking out over the spacious and pleasant garden.
“What! all ready, Susie?--trunk packed, travelling-dress on and all?”
said Mrs. Stanley.
“Yes, aunt,” replied Susan.
“I meant to have come to you before; but I see you did not need me. You
are quite an expert little body. I was detained longer than I expected
to be in assisting Carrie to pack her trunk. She was quite helpless in
the midst of her wardrobe.”
“I do not wonder,” replied Susie. “I remember what a formidable task it
was to me when I first had it to do; but it is no new business to me
now.” And her voice faltered.
“You have been crying, Susie,” said her aunt. “Are you unwilling to go
to Manchester? You know, my dear, that I am very sorry to part with
both my children at once; but I think it best for you to go. It will
make it harder still for me if you are unhappy about going.”
“I am not, dear aunt. I know you would not send me if you did not think
it best; but I have had a home for so short a time, and found it so
sweet, that I dread to lose it,--even for a little while. But I don’t
mean to be home-sick: so don’t feel badly about it, dear aunt.”
Just then Carrie came dancing along.
“I’m all armed and equipped as the law directs,” she said; “and now,
mother, I’ve a proposition to make. Instead of adjourning to your room,
let us go to the arbour. It is too lovely a day to stay in the house;
and, besides, it will be a long time before we sit together in the
garden again.”
“Very well,” said her mother; and away she went, followed by her mother
and Susie, while Carrie scampered on ahead to the arbour.
It was a very pleasant spot. The large trellis of lattice-work was
completely covered with climbing roses of different colours; and the
interior was equally charming. It was furnished with garden-chairs, and
a little table, where it was often Mrs. Stanley’s custom to have tea
served in the summer evening. Carrie had already reached the arbour,
and was busily engaged in arranging the seats near the entrance, from
which a small pond or lake was to be seen gleaming through the trees
that surrounded it, and the garden, with its terraces and winding paths
that led through a grove down to the water’s edge.
“There’s your favourite seat, mother,” she said, pointing to a low
chair. “Susie may sit by your side. I shall take this stool at your
feet.”
After all were seated and Mrs. Stanley had given the girls some
directions about their journey, she said, “One thing more, my children.
It is only six months since you both made a profession of religion and
united with the Church; and now for the first time you are about to be
placed in circumstances which will test the strength and sincerity of
your Christian principle. You will have many trials, many temptations.
I confess I almost shrink from the thought of applying such tests to
your piety.”
“Why, mother!” exclaimed Carrie, much pained. “Do you doubt our
sincerity?”
“No, my child,--not your sincerity, but your strength.”
“You need not fear for that, dear mother. I rather hope we shall have
some trials,--though I can’t imagine exactly what they will be.”
“You will discover them soon enough, my daughter. Never forget that
you are Christians,” Mrs. Stanley continued. “I do not mean, by that,
that you are to have grave faces continually and be always talking of
religious matters; but be guided by religious principle. Read your
Bibles regularly, and do not forget to pray.”
“Forget to pray!” repeated Carrie. “I should as soon forget my regular
meals.”
Mrs. Stanley kissed her child’s upturned face.
“Go into the library, my dear,” she said, “and bring me a small
package which you will find on the table.”
Carrie ran off, and soon returned with the parcel. Mrs. Stanley opened
it and displayed two beautiful little Bibles. The girls were loud in
their admiration of the elegant crimson morocco bindings, fine type and
heavy gilding; but the clasps--of real silver, and on which their names
were engraved--were pronounced “perfect.”
Both declared that they had never seen such beautiful Bibles before;
and they kissed and thanked the dear giver repeatedly.
“Put them in your baskets now,” said Mrs. Stanley. “I see Hannah coming
with our lunch. I told her we would have it here to-day.”
Hannah entered, bringing a basket, which contained a table-cloth,
napkins, dishes and all that was necessary to spread the table. The
girls showed her their presents; and, after she had admired them
sufficiently, they proceeded to set the table, while she went back to
the house and soon returned with the eatables.
“Just the very things I love best,” said Carrie,--“even coffee for your
especial benefit, Susie. They begin to treat us as if we were of some
consequence, now that we are going away: don’t they? Here’s that quince
marmalade that I teased for in vain the other night at supper, and the
almond sponge-cake you like so well. I don’t know whether to take it as
a compliment or not, Sue. It seems a little like a feast of rejoicing
at getting rid of us.”
So Carrie rattled on, till a servant announced that the carriage was
in readiness to take them to the depôt, where Mrs. Stanley accompanied
them and left them in charge of the gentleman who was to go with them
to Manchester.