"What's done we partly may compute,
But know not what's resisted."
BURNS.
Poor little Grace was sorely distressed over her sister's misconduct and
the consequent displeasure of Mr. Dinsmore.
On being dismissed from the schoolroom she went directly to her mamma's
apartments. She knew she would be alone there, as Violet had gone out
driving, and shutting herself in, she indulged in a hearty cry.
She was aware of the danger that Lulu would be sent away, and could not
bear the thought of separation from her--the only sister she had except
the baby.
Their mutual love was very strong; and Lulu was ever ready to act as
Grace's champion, did anyone show the slightest disposition to impose
upon or ill-treat her; and it was seldom indeed that she herself was
anything but the kindest of the kind to her.
Finding her young step-mother ever ready with sympathy--and help, too,
where that was possible--Grace had long since formed the habit of
carrying to her all her little troubles and vexations, and also all her
joys.
She longed to open her heart now to "mamma," but Mr. Dinsmore's parting
injunction as he dismissed his pupils for the day seemed to forbid it.
Grace felt that even that partial relief was denied her.
But Violet came suddenly upon her, and surprised her in the midst of her
tears.
"Why, my darling, what is the matter?" she asked in a tone full of
concern, taking the little girl in her arms as she spoke.
"Oh, mamma, it's--But I mustn't tell you, 'cause Grandpa Dinsmore said we
were not to mention it unless it was quite necessary."
"But surely you may tell your mamma anything that distresses you so! Is
it that Grandpa Dinsmore is displeased?"
"Not with me, mamma."
"Then with Max or Lulu?"
"Mamma, I think I may tell you a little," Grace replied, with some
hesitation. "It's with Lulu; but I can't say what for. But, oh, mamma, if
Grandpa Dinsmore won't teach Lu any more will she have to go away to
boarding-school?"
"I hope not, dearie; I think not if she will be content to take me for
her teacher," Violet said, with a half-suppressed sigh, for she felt that
she might be pledging herself to a most trying work; Lulu would dare much
more in the way of disregarding her authority than that of her
grandfather.
But she was rewarded by Grace's glad exclamation, "Oh, mamma, how good
you are! I hope Lulu would never be naughty to you. How could she if you
save her from being sent away?"
"I think Lulu wants to be good," Violet said gently; "but she finds her
naturally quick temper very hard to govern."
"But she always grows sorry very soon," Grace remarked in a deprecating
tone.
"Yes, dear, so she does. She is a dear child, as her father says, and one
cannot help loving her in spite of her faults."
"Thank you, darling mamma, for saying that!" Grace exclaimed, throwing
her arms round Violet's neck and kissing her cheek. "May I tell Lulu that
you will teach her if Grandpa Dinsmore will not?"
"No, Gracie," Violet answered, with grave look and tone; "it will do her
good, I think, to fear for a while that she may lose the privileges she
enjoys here by not valuing them enough to make good use of them, or by
indulging in improper behavior toward those whom her father has placed
over her, and who are in every way worthy of her respect and obedience."
"Yes, mamma," Grace responded submissively.
"Where is Lulu?" Violet asked.
"I don't know, mamma. Oh yes, I see her coming up the avenue," she
corrected herself, as she glanced from a window. "She's been taking a
walk, I s'pose."
Presently they heard Lulu enter her own room, shut the door, lock and
bolt it, as if determined to secure herself from intrusion. But Grace
hastened to join her, passing through the door that opened from Violet's
apartments.
Lulu, who was taking off her hat, turned sharply round with an angry
frown on her brow. But it vanished at sight of the intruder.
"Oh, it's only you, is it, Gracie?" she said in a slightly relieved tone.
"But what's the matter? What have you been crying about?"
"You, Lulu; oh, I'm so sorry for you!" Grace answered, with a sob,
running to her sister and putting her arms round her neck.
"Well, you needn't be; I don't care," Lulu said defiantly, and with a
little stamp of her foot. "No, not if all the old tyrants in the world
were angry with me!"
"Oh, Lu, don't talk so!" entreated Grace; "and you do care if papa is
displeased? Our own dear papa who loves us so dearly?"
"Yes," acknowledged Lulu, in a more quiet and subdued tone. "Oh, Gracie,
why wasn't I made good like you?"
"Don't you remember the Bible verse we learned the other day?" queried
Grace. "'There is none good; no, not one.'"
"Then Grandpa Dinsmore isn't good himself, and ought to have more
patience with me," remarked Lulu. "But don't you fret about it, Gracie;
there's no need."
"You're always sorry when I'm in trouble, and I can't help feeling so
when you are," said Grace.
Violet was dressing for dinner, thinking sadly the while upon what she
had just learned from Grace.
"How it would trouble her father if he should hear it!" she said to
herself. "I hope grandpa will not consider it necessary to report her
conduct to him. Of course, according to his requirements she should tell
him herself, but I presume she will hardly have the courage to refrain
from making her behavior appear less reprehensible than it actually was."
She questioned with herself whether to speak to Lulu on the subject of
her misconduct, but decided not to do so at present, unless something
should occur to lead to it naturally.
Her toilet completed, she went down to the parlor, and there found her
grandfather alone.
He looked up with a welcoming smile; Violet had always been a particular
favorite with him.
"The first down, little cricket," he said, using an old-time pet name,
and pausing in his walk (for he was pacing the floor) to gallantly hand
her to a seat on a sofa; then placing himself by her side, "How extremely
youthful you look, my pet! Who would take you for a matron?"
"To tell you a secret, grandpa," she said, with a merry look, "I feel
quite young still when the children are not by; and not always very old
even when they are with me. By the way, how have they behaved themselves
today?"
A grave, slightly annoyed look came over his face as she asked the
question.
"Max and Gracie as well as any one could desire," he said; "but
Lulu--really, Vi, if she were my own child, I should try the virtue of a
rod with her."
Violet's face reflected the gravity of his, while she gave vent to an
audible sigh.
Mr. Dinsmore went on to describe Lulu's behavior on that and several
other days, then wound up with the question, "What do you think her
father would have me do with her?"
"I suppose he would say send her to a boarding-school; but, grandpa, I am
very loath to see that done. At the same time I cannot bear to have you
annoyed with her ill-conduct, and I am thinking of attempting the task of
teaching her myself."
Mr. Dinsmore shook his head. "I cannot have you annoyed with her, my
little Vi; no more, at least, than you necessarily must be, occupying the
relationship that you do. But we will take the matter into consideration,
getting your grandma and mother to aid us with their advice."
"And we won't tell her father the whole unpleasant truth, will we,
grandpa?" Violet said, half inquiringly, half entreatingly.
"You shall tell him just what you please; I shall not trouble him in
regard to the matter," Mr. Dinsmore answered in his kindliest tone.
The entrance of Mrs. Keith and Annis put an end to the conversation, and
presently dinner was announced.
Lulu went to the dining-room in some trepidation, not knowing what
treatment to expect from Mr. Dinsmore, or others who might have learned
the story of her misconduct.
But there seemed no change in the manner of any of the grown people,
except Mr. Dinsmore, who simply ignored her existence altogether,
apparently was unaware of her presence, never looking at or speaking to
her.
He had privately given instructions beforehand to one of the servants to
attend to Miss Lulu's wants at the table, seeing that her plate was
supplied with whatever viands she desired; and it was done so quietly
that no one noticed anything unusual in the conduct of the meal.
Still Lulu was uncomfortably conscious of being in disgrace, and seized
the first opportunity to slip quietly away to her own room.
She took up the story-book--still unfinished--which had got her into this
trouble, but could not feel the interest she had before; an uneasy
conscience prevented.
Laying it aside, she sat for some moments with her elbow on the
window-sill, her cheek in her hand, her eyes gazing upon vacancy. She was
thinking of what Max had said about the duty of confession to her father.
"I wish I didn't have to," she sighed to herself; "I wish papa hadn't
said I must write out every day what I've been doing and send the diary
to him. I think it's hard; it's bad enough to have to confess my
wrong-doing to him when he's at home. It's just as well he isn't, though,
for I know he'd punish me if he was. Maybe he will when he comes again,
but it's likely to be such a long while first that I think I'm pretty
safe as far as that is concerned. Oh, it does provoke me so that he will
make me obey these people! I'm determined I'll do exactly as I please
when I'm grown up!
"But if I'm sent off to boarding-school I'll have to obey the teachers
there, or have a fight and be expelled--which would be a great disgrace
and 'most break papa's heart, I do believe--and they would very likely be
more disagreeable than even Grandpa Dinsmore; not half so nice and kind
as Grandma Elsie, I'm perfectly certain. Oh dear, if I only _were_ grown
up! But I'm not, and I have to write the story of to-day to papa. I'll
make it short."
Opening her writing-desk, she took therefrom pen, ink, and paper, and,
after a moment's cogitation, began.
"I haven't been a good girl to-day," she wrote; "I was so interested in a
story-book that I neglected to learn my Latin lesson; so I failed in the
recitation, and Grandpa Dinsmore was very cross and disagreeable about
it. He says I answered him disrespectfully and as punishment I sha'n't go
into the schoolroom or recite to him again for a week.
"There," glancing over what she had written, "I hope papa will never
question me closely about it; and I think he won't; it'll be such an old
story by the time we meet again."
The week of her banishment from the schoolroom was an uncomfortable one
to Lulu, though she was given no reason to consider herself a martyr. She
was allowed a share in all the home pleasures, all her wants were as
carefully attended to as usual, she received no harsh words or unkind
looks; yet somehow could never rid herself of the consciousness that she
was in disgrace. Very little notice was taken of her by any of the family
except her brother and sister; she came and went about the house as she
pleased,--never venturing into the schoolroom, however,--but when she
joined the family circle no one seemed to be aware of her presence; they
talked among themselves, but did not address or even look at her.
This treatment was galling to her, and she began to spend almost all of
her time in "the boy's work-room," at her favorite employment of
fret-sawing.
Max was generally at work there also out of school-hours, but during
those hours she had always been alone till one morning Mrs. Leland,
happening to want something from a closet in the work-room, came
unexpectedly upon her.
It was a surprise to both; for Evelyn had kept her friend's counsel, and
no one at Ion had let Elsie or any one else indeed into the secret of
Lulu's ill-conduct and consequent disgrace.
"You here, Lu?" she exclaimed on entering the room. "I heard you saw as I
came up the stairway, and wondered who could be busy here at this hour
when the young folks are all supposed to be in the schoolroom.
"What lovely work you are doing!" she went on, drawing near to examine
it. "I presume you have been extremely good and studious, and so have
been rewarded with leave of absence at this unusual hour; and you are
certainly making good use of your holiday.
"You are wonderfully expert at this for a child of your age. Perhaps one
of these days you will develop into so great a genius as to make us all
proud of your acquaintance."
Lulu's cheeks burned.
"You are very kind to praise my work so, Aunt Elsie," she said. "Do you
really think this basket is handsome--I mean without making allowance for
my age?"
"I certainly do; I think it deserves all I have said of it, if not more.
How pleased your father will be when he hears what a good, industrious,
and painstaking little girl he has for his eldest daughter!"
Lulu did not speak for a moment. She was fighting a battle with herself;
conscience on the one hand and love of approbation on the other were
having a great struggle within her breast. She valued Mrs. Leland's good
opinion and was loath to lose it.
But she was worthy of her father's glad encomium, "However many and
serious her faults may be, she is at least honest and truthful," and
could not accept praise which she knew was wholly undeserved.
"You mistake, Aunt Elsie," she said with an effort, hanging her head in
shame, while her cheek flushed hotly; "I am not here for being good, but
for being naughty--missing my lesson and answering Grandpa Dinsmore
impertinently when he reproved me for it."
"I grieve to hear it, my dear child," Elsie returned in a truly sorrowful
tone. "I had hoped you were getting quite the better of your temper and
inclination to defy lawful authority. But do not be discouraged from
trying again to conquer your faults. Every one of us has an evil nature
and many spiritual foes to fight against; yet if we fight manfully,
looking to Jesus for help and strength, we shall assuredly gain the
victory at last; coming off more than conquerors through Him who loved us
and died to save us from sin and death."
"You can never think well of me again, Aunt Elsie?" Lulu said, half in
assertion, half inquiringly.
"I certainly hope to, Lulu," was the kind reply "Your honest avowal is
greatly to your credit; I see that you are above the meanness of
falsehood and taking undeserved praise; that seems to me a very hopeful
sign, deeply ungrateful as was your conduct toward my dear, good
grandfather, who has been so kind to you and yours. Do you not think it
so yourself, now that your passion has had time to cool?"
"Yes, ma'am," replied Lulu, again hanging her head and blushing. "I don't
mean to behave so any more."
Then after a moment's silence, "Aunt Elsie, I don't believe anybody has
any idea how hard it is for me to be good."
"Don't you think other people find it hard, too, my poor child?" Elsie
asked gently. "They also have evil natures."
"I'm sure," said Lulu, "that Max and Grace don't have half as hard work
to be patient and sweet-tempered as I do. I often wish I'd been made good
like Grace; and I don't see why I wasn't. And there's Rosie; she doesn't
ever seem to want to be wilful, or tempted at all to get into a passion."
"Perhaps, Lulu, she is as strongly tempted to some other sin as you are
to wilfulness and passion, and perhaps falls before temptation as often.
We cannot read each other's hearts; one cannot know how much another
resists--can only see the failures and not the struggles to avoid them.
"But how comforting to know that God, our heavenly Father, sees and knows
it all; that He pities our weakness and proneness to sin! How precious
are His promises of help in time of trial, if we look to Him for it, at
the same time using all our own strength in the struggle!"
"I never thought about different people having different temptations,"
remarked Lulu, thoughtfully. "Perhaps it isn't so much harder for me to
do right than for others, after all."
"My grandfather is not unforgiving," Elsie remarked as she turned to go;
"and I think if you show that you are really sorry for your wrong-doing,
he will restore you to your former privileges."
Lulu went on with her work, but her thoughts were busy with that parting
piece of advice, or rather the suggestion thrown out by Mrs. Leland.
Her pride strongly revolted against making any acknowledgment, and
remembering that there was but one more day of her week left, she at
length decided to await events and do the disagreeable duty only when she
could no longer delay it without danger of banishment.
A remark she accidentally overheard from Rosie that afternoon made her
more unwilling to apologize to Mr. Dinsmore; in fact, quite determined
that she would do nothing of the kind.
Rosie was speaking to Zoe, as they entered the work-room together, and
did not notice that Lulu was there reading in a deep window-seat, where
she was partially concealed by a curtain.
"I think if Lulu is wise she will soon make it up with grandpa," she was
saying; "for Christmas is not so very far off, and of course she will get
nothing from him if she continues obstinate and rebellious."
Lulu did not wait to hear what Zoe might say in reply, but starting up in
a fury of indignation, "I would have you to understand, Miss Rosie
Travilla," she said, "that I am not the mercenary creature you appear to
believe me. I would scorn to apologize in order to secure a gift from Mr.
Dinsmore or anybody else; and if he gives me one, I shall not accept it."
"I really do not think you will have the opportunity to reject a gift
from him," replied Rosie, with what seemed to Lulu exasperating coolness.
"However, I sincerely regret having said anything to rouse that fearful
temper of yours. I should not have spoken so had I known you were within
earshot."
"No, I have no doubt that you say many a mean thing of me behind my back
that you would be ashamed, or afraid, to say to my face."
Rosie laughed gleefully. "Do you think I am afraid of _you_?" she asked
in a mirthful tone, putting a strong emphasis upon the last word.
"Come, come, girls," interposed Zoe, "you surely are not going to quarrel
about nothing?"
"No; I have no quarrel with any one," replied Rosie, turning about and
leaving the room with a quick, light step.
Lulu threw her book from her, upon the seat from which she had just
risen.
"She insults me and then walks off saying she has no quarrel with
anybody!" she exclaimed passionately, addressing Zoe, who had remained
behind with the laudable desire to say something to Lulu which should be
as oil upon the troubled water. "It's bad enough to be abused without
being forgiven for it."
"So it is," said Zoe; "but I don't think Rosie meant any harm; I
sincerely believe she wants you to make it up with grandpa for your own
sake--that you may have a good time now and at Christmas."
"If I can't do it from a better motive than that, I won't do it at all,"
said Lulu. "Aunt Zoe, I hope you have a little better opinion of me than
Rosie seems to have?"
"Yes, Lulu, I've always liked you. I think yours would be a splendid
character if only you could learn to rule your own spirit, as the
Bible says. I've heard my father say that those who were naturally
high-tempered and wilful made the noblest men and women if they once
thoroughly learned the lesson of self-control."
"I wish I could," said Lulu, dejectedly. "I'm always sorry for my failure
when my passion is over, and think I will never indulge it again; but
soon somebody does or says something very provoking, and before I have
time to think of my good resolutions I'm in a passion and saying angry
words in return."
"I am sorry for you," said Zoe; "I have temper enough of my own to be
able to sympathize with you. But you will try to make your peace with
grandpa, won't you?"
"No; I was intending to, if Rosie hadn't interfered, but I sha'n't now;
because if I did he would think it was from that mean motive that Rosie
suggested."
"Oh no; grandpa is too noble himself to suspect others of such meanness,"
asserted Zoe, defending him all the more warmly that she had sometimes
talked a trifle hardly of him herself.
But she saw from Lulu's countenance that to undo Rosie's work was quite
impossible, so presently gave up the attempt and left her to solitude and
her book.