THE LITTLE BIRD THAT CARRIED THE MATTER.
FLORA LESTER and Emma Hausen went to the same school—the primary, or,
as it was called, the Kindergarten, department of "Hausen Institute."
This was a large, flourishing, and richly endowed girls' school, in
the pretty village of Round Springs. Hausen School, as it was usually
called, was a very nice place. It was not a grand "institution," with
long halls and little rooms, and numberless rules and regulations, and
a wonderful "system," which required so much time to develop it, that
there was no time left to take care of the girls.
The school building had originally been a substantial square brick
mansion, such as one sees in our pretty country villages; but a room
had been added here and another there, a large, airy gymnasium on one
side, and some equally airy and spacious class-rooms on the other.
You were always coming on little snug bedrooms and study-rooms in
unexpected corners, with "engaged" cards hung on the doors, to denote
that the inmates were busy, and must not be intruded on. There was
a very fine library, containing not only what are usually called
"standard works," but a great many curious, interesting, and readable
books besides. Behind the house were large grounds, at present somewhat
rough and neglected, but none the worse for that in the eyes of the
little girls, who found beautiful places for play-houses among the
rocks, and nice seats on the roots of the old trees. The health of the
young ladies was carefully looked after, and their comfort promoted in
every possible way.
But we have nothing to do at present with any part of the school except
the primary department, or Kindergarten, presided over by Miss Van Ness
and Miss Garland. In this department, Florry Lester and Emma Hausen
were the oldest girls; and they were already beginning to feel tall,
and out of place, in the midst of the children. Promotion in Hausen
School depended not on age, but on scholarship and good conduct, and
both Florry and Emma hoped to be advanced to the "fourth class," which
was the first step in the upper school, at the coming term-day. Florry
felt pretty sure about herself; but she was not so confident about
Emma, who was, it must be confessed, a little apt to be idle and giddy.
She had thought the matter over, and had secretly made up her mind
that, if Emma should be put back for a term, she would ask leave to
wait for her, that they might be promoted together.
Emma's grandfather had founded the school, and her uncle was its
president; and some of the girls said Miss Van Ness favoured Emma on
that account; but Florry insisted that this was not the case.
"Miss Van Ness is too impartial," she said, one day. "She stands up so
straight that she leans over. She notices things in Emma that she would
not see at all in anybody else; and that is one reason why Emma gets so
many more marks than I do."
It may be that, in this matter, Florry was misled by her affection
for her friend. But certain it was, that Emma was very unlucky in the
matter of getting marks. She was apt to forget herself during the "hour
of silence," and begin studying aloud, or whispering to her neighbour.
Then she was always getting into trouble because she never could say
"No" when asked to lend her pencils or her books; for it was one of the
very few strict rules of the school, that there should be no borrowing
without express permission, but that every girl must have what was
necessary for her school-work. This was a very good rule, and, if it
had been kept, would have saved a deal of trouble; but Emma always had
plenty of spare pens and pencils; and, as she said, she hated to be
disobliging. I suspect the real truth was that she disliked the trouble
of saying "No;" and thus she was always getting "marks," and being
obliged to answer "Yes" when asked if she had broken any rules of the
school.
"But why will you keep on lending, Emma, when you know that it is
against the rules?" asked Florry, one night, when Emma was crying and
saying, "It is too bad! I never have half a chance!"
"If you only lent to the girls you like, and that like you, I wouldn't
mind so much; though even then I don't think you ought to break rules:
but you lend to Lavinia Stephens, and get into trouble for her, when
you know you don't like her, and that she just lives by sponging on the
other girls."
"Well, I know she will think I am mean, if I don't."
"And suppose she does; what harm will that do you?" asked Florry, very
sensibly. "I should think you would care more for what your father and
mother and Miss Van Ness think, than you do for Lavinia Stephens."
Emma didn't know, only that it was not very pleasant to refuse; and
nobody liked to do disagreeable things. In fact, Emma was one of
those people with whom a little present inconvenience outweighs any
amount of discomfort in the future. If promotion had depended only on
answers given at an examination, Emma would soon have "caught up" and
passed Florry; for she was very quick to learn when she gave her mind
thereto. But this was not the case in Hausen School. It was the record
throughout the term which decided whether any girl should be promoted
at the end; and for this reason, Florry's chances were much better than
Emma's.
"Now, Emma," said Florry, as they were riding down to school that
morning, "you don't mean to get any marks this week, do you? You know
this is the last of the term, and half a dozen marks may make all the
difference."
"I suppose you think you are certain of being promoted?" said Emma.
"No: I don't feel at all sure; and, anyhow, I don't want to go up
unless you do. I should feel so strange and lonely in the fourth grade
all by myself."
"You know all the girls in the fourth grade, don't you?"
"Yes, all the day-scholars; but I don't care much for any of them,
except your cousin Winifred. And, anyhow, I don't want to go up unless
you do. So, please, Emma, do be careful. You have not had any marks
this week yet, have you?"
"Only one," said Emma, rather reluctantly.
"Oh, Emma, how could you?"
"You needn't say anything," said Emma, feeling very much vexed, she
hardly knew why. "Lending isn't as bad as stealing, anyway."
Florry turned her head away and looked out of the window, without
saying a word.
"There, now, I am sorry I said that," exclaimed Emma. "It was real mean
in me. Oh, please, don't cry!" as she peeped round into Florry's face
and saw the tears falling from her eyes. "Please do forgive me, Florry,
won't you? Oh, I am so sorry. Please do forgive me, and I never, never
will say such a word again."
It was not in Florry's nature to be unforgiving; especially where
Emma was concerned. Truth to say, her forgiving nature was called
into exercise pretty often; for Emma was one of those people who
say whatever they happen to think at the moment, without regard to
consequences; which would be all very well, if one were sure always of
thinking what it was right to say.
Florry "made up friends" with Emma, as she had done a hundred times
before; but never had any one of Emma's hasty speeches wounded her like
this. It is comparatively easy to bear unjust faultfinding. It is the
true reproach which stings.
Florry was very grave and silent all day; and in the afternoon she
looked so pale, that Miss Van Ness asked her if she was not well.
"My head aches, Miss Van Ness; and last night I hurt my shoulder
and side with the windlass of the well, and it pains me very much,"
answered Florry. "Please excuse me from writing. My arm is so lame."
"I think it is best to excuse you altogether," said Miss Van Ness,
kindly. "You had better go home and lie down; and, Emma, you may go
with her, if you please, as you have done all your lessons so well
to-day."
The next day, Florry's arm was so stiff that she could not raise it at
all, and her father thought she had better stay quietly at home. Florry
was not at all sorry to do so, for the more she thought about her
fault, the more sorry and ashamed she felt; and it seemed to her that
everybody must know all about it.
It was not till Friday morning that Florry came to school again. This
Friday was a very important day. It was the end of the term, and in the
afternoon all the school would be assembled in the great room to hear
the reports read, which would determine their standing for the next
term.
Emma was feeling very happy and very confident. She had really been
careful for the last two weeks, and she had only been marked twice; and
she had somehow settled it in her own mind that these two weeks were
to out-balance all the rest of the term. Florry would have liked to
think so, too; but she could not bring herself to do so. She had kept
an accurate account of her own standing and Emma's, a thing Emma never
thought of doing; and she felt pretty sure that her friend would be put
back.
"But I won't go up unless she does," decided Florry, as she stopped
at the house of Mrs. Mansfield, where she was to do an errand for her
father. "If I pass and Emma does not, I will just ask father and Mr.
Hausen to let me stay down till the end of next term; and then I can go
over the geography again with Miss Van Ness."
The Mansfields had lately come to Round Springs to live, and had bought
one of the finest houses in the village, which they had furnished at a
great expense. They had only two children: Emmeline, who was a grown-up
young lady, and Matilda or Tilly, who was a year younger than Florry
Lester, and who came to the Kindergarten. Tilly was no great favourite
with the girls, who accused her of "feeling grand" and putting on airs,
because her father was rich and came from New York; and perhaps there
was some truth in the accusation. If so, it was more Tilly's misfortune
than her fault; for she had always been used to hear money talked about
as if it had been the all-important thing, beside which nothing was of
any great consequence.
"Oh, Florry!" said Tilly, meeting her school-mate in the hall. "I am so
glad to see you. Did you come for me to go to school with you?"
"No," said Florry; "I came to do an errand for father; but we can go to
school together, unless I have to go home first."
"Well, come up to my room with me. I want to show you something."
Florry had no objections to see a little of Mr. Mansfield's house,
about which she had heard so much, and she followed Tilly up-stairs to
her own room. The house was indeed furnished "regardless of expense,"
as the saying is; but Florry noticed, as she passed through the
parlours, that there were no books, and very few magazines or papers,
and that, though there were some large pictures, they were more
remarkable for their expensive gilt frames than for anything else.
Besides, the colours of the carpets and curtains did not suit each
other, and the furniture did not seem at all as if it had been made for
comfortable use.
"It looks like a hotel," thought Florry, to herself: "I think our
little house is much prettier. It looks as if everything was saying,
'See how much I cost!'"
Tilly's room, however, was more to her taste. Tilly loved story-books,
and she had a great many of them; there were some really pretty
"chromos" on the walls, and on a bracket in one corner stood a lovely
little statuette.
"What a pretty room!" said Florry.
"Yes, I think it is pretty," answered Tilly, very much pleased. "My
aunt Maria picked out the furniture and the pictures for me."
"I think they are lovely," said Florry; "and how many books you have,
Tilly."
"Yes; I buy some every time I go to the city. Pa says it is all
nonsense spending so much money for books, because they don't make any
show, and you never can sell them for half what they cost; but he lets
me spend my money as I like. Don't you want to borrow some of them,
Florry? Take any you please. There is father calling me. Just look over
the shelves, while I see what he wants; will you?"
Florry selected a couple of volumes, and by the time she had done so,
Tilly came back.
"Papa would like to have your father come up and see Emmeline," said
she.
"Then I must run home and tell him before he goes out," said Florry.
"See, Tilly, I have taken these two books; and I will lend you any of
mine that you like."
"But just wait a minute. I want to show you my birthday present," and
Tilly displayed, with some pride, a very pretty little watch and gold
chain, and a handsome enamelled locket. "I mean to wear them to school
this morning."
"I wouldn't," said Florry. "You might lose them or something. And
besides, Miss Van Ness wouldn't like it. Come, walk along with me as
far as the school."
"I can't. I must change my dress first. Do you think you will get
promoted to-day, Florry?"
"I am sure I don't know," answered Florry, rather absently.
"Well, do you think Emma will? She thinks so, I know, because she has
been so good the last two weeks."
"I don't know," answered Florry, again. "It doesn't depend on the last
two weeks, you know. But good-by, Tilly, I must go. Thank you for the
books."
Tilly dressed herself for school, and, after some consideration, put on
her new watch and chain; for she could not resist the desire she felt
to show them off: Mr. Mansfield lived on a back street, parallel to
that on which the school stood. His grounds joined those of the school
at the back, and for Tilly's convenience, he had constructed a path and
a stile, which shortened his daughter's daily journeys very much.
Tilly crossed the stile, and the first thing she saw was Emma Hausen,
seated on a rock, close under the wall, and studying with all her might.
"Why, Emma! What are you doing here?" she asked.
"Studying my history. I forgot to take my book home; and I am so afraid
I shall miss, I don't know what to do. Dear me, how fine you are!" she
exclaimed, seeing Tilly's chain and locket. "But you don't mean to wear
those to school, do you?"
"Why not?" asked Tilly.
"Because all the girls will laugh at you," answered Emma. "They always
do if any one wears anything fine. I wouldn't, Tilly."
"I think I have a right to wear my own watch," said Tilly, pouting.
"Of course you have; but then, you know, you don't want to be laughed
at," said Emma, who spoke from pure good-nature. "I never wear mine;
but mother says I may when I get into the upper school, because I shall
need it then. If I were you, I would carry the watch home again."
"I sha'n't have time, and I don't want to go back home," said Tilly,
who dreaded being laughed at. "I will tell you what I will do. See,
here is a nice dry hollow under this great rock. I will put it in
there, and lay another stone over it; and it will be just as safe as if
it were in my drawer at home. Then I can get it when I come back this
way."
"Just as you like," said Emma, intent upon her lesson. "Only don't
forget where you put it."
"I suppose you will come to school all the same, Emma, whether you are
promoted or not," remarked Tilly, as she secured her watch by laying a
large stone over the hole where she had placed it.
[Illustration: The Red Plant.
"See here is a nice dry hollow; it will just be as safe
as in my drawer at home."]
"Yes, I suppose so," answered Emma, rather impatiently. "Only I shall
not be here for the first few days. We are going to the city this
afternoon, and may not be home till Thursday or Friday. There's the
first bell. Oh, dear, I wish, it was all over! Come, Tilly, we shall be
late."
The school exercises went on as usual in the morning. At noon, Tilly
walked home by the street, discussing with the other girls the chances
of promotion for one and another, and came back the same way. In the
afternoon the whole school, boarders and all, were assembled in the
large room. The trustees, with the president of the school at their
head, took their seats on the raised platform, and the friends of the
pupils had a place by themselves. There was a prayer and some singing;
and then Mr. Richard Hausen, the president, rose to read the reports,
amid a profound silence. The little girls came first, and then the
elder ones. Florry and Emma, seated together, listened breathlessly
till Mr. Hausen came to the "promotions" and read:
"Promoted to the fourth grade: Flora Lester, Eva Church, Anna Talbot.
Highest standing for all things, Flora Lester."
Poor Emma! She had succeeded in persuading herself that she should
certainly pass this time, and it was a terrible disappointment not to
hear her name. And such a mortification, too. She must stay behind—in
the baby-room, as she disdainfully called the Kindergarten, while two
such little things as Eva Church and Anna Talbot mounted over her head.
They would learn their lessons in the great class-room, and go out
sailing and riding with the young ladies, while she would remain, the
only large girl in the room, except Tilly Mansfield.
"It is too bad! It isn't half fair!" Thus, in the short recess given to
the younger girls, Emma loudly complained of the injustice done her.
"I don't believe Miss Van Ness keeps the book right!" she exclaimed. "I
don't believe I have been imperfect as many times as that."
"I am afraid there is no mistake about it," said Florry, sorrowfully.
"Have you kept an account this term, Emma?"
"No. I can never remember to set the things down at the time."
"I didn't believe you would, and so I kept your credit along with my
own," said Florry. "And, Emma, I am afraid Miss Van Ness is right. Her
account is just like mine. You know I told you two or three weeks ago—"
"Oh, yes, you told me," interrupted Emma, scornfully and angrily. "You
are a great hand to preach, to be sure. If I have missed, and got some
marks in school, I haven't done some other things. Have you found the
red plant yet?"
Florry did not say another word. She turned and went away into the
house, without telling Emma, as she had meant to do, of her intention
not to go up without her.
"Oh, what shall I do? What shall I do?" she said to herself. "Oh, my
heart will break! I am sure it will. If I could only die, or go clear
away where nobody knows me. I wish father would let me go away to
Colorado to Uncle John."
To do Emma justice, she had no intention of wounding her friend so
deeply.
She was angry at herself for having failed, and at Florry for having
succeeded, and her anger fell upon the first object that happened to
present itself.
"What did you mean by what you said about the red plant?" asked Tilly
Mansfield, who had heard Emma's words. "I heard your mother tell
Emmeline that she had had a beautiful one, but that somebody stole it.
You don't mean that Florry Lester took it, do you? Why, Emma Hausen!"
"Yes, she did; and I think it is a shame that such a girl should be put
above me!" exclaimed Emma. "I am not a thief, whatever I am. I just
wish Miss Van Ness and the rest knew it, that's all. I guess Miss Flora
Lester would not hold her head so very high among the young ladies
after that."
"I guess she wouldn't," said Tilly, who dearly loved a piece of gossip.
"Why don't you tell them? I would. It would just pay Florry off finely.
I dare say she would be turned out of the school."
"But I don't want to pay her off, that I know of," said Emma, struck by
Tilly's words, and beginning to think when it was too late, as usual.
"It was not her fault, and I am sorry I hurt her feelings. She was
always telling me I would fail, if I didn't take more care; and she was
right. If I had minded her, I should have done well enough. I wish I
had."
"But did she really steal your mother's red plant?"
"Yes: she took it out of the stand and carried it home, and then
somebody stole it from her. But she was very sorry; and she came and
told mother all about it; and gave her that beautiful double fuchsia,
to make amends. And don't you say a word, Tilly, for all the world;
because mother told me not to tell; and, besides, it was real mean in
me to twit Florry with it. You won't tell, will you?"
"Of course not; but, Emma, I don't think you need care so very much for
Florry. It was not half fair for her to go above you so."
"Oh, she couldn't help it! And she did her best to have me second, too."
"She knew all the time that you wouldn't, though. I knew she did,
because she told me so. She said you had been very good the last two
weeks; but it didn't depend on that; and she knew she should pass
anyhow: so she didn't care."
Tilly did not exactly mean to lie; but she was an inveterate gossip,
and, like many other gossips, she never could repeat anything exactly
as she heard it.
"I don't believe she said so. It doesn't sound one bit like her," said
Emma.
"Indeed, she did. She said so up in my room this very morning."
"I guess you stretched it just a little," said Emma. "But there is
mother calling me."
"I think we must go now, my dear," said Mrs. Hausen. "You know we have
several things to do yet. Miss Van Ness will excuse you."
Emma did not seek Florry out to "make up," as she had intended. She
said to herself that she had no time; but that was not the real reason.
Tilly's words, though she did not half believe them, had not been
without their effect on her mind.