Monica's Choice

by George Bird Grinnell

  *CHAPTER II.*

  *"SUCH A *_*DEAR*_* LITTLE MONKEY!"*

  But there were weightier matters in the lawyer's mind than the choice ofa school for incorrigible girls, and he was soon pondering deeply over acompensation case, as he strode along the stretch of almost countrifiedroad which connected the residential district of Mydenham with theparent town of Osmington.

  He was nearing the latter, and had just consulted his watch, in view ofan important appointment, when, turning a corner sharply, he collidedwith a young lady of nineteen or thereabouts, who, with a small brotherand sister, was coming in the opposite direction.

  "I'm _so_ sorry, Mr. Bertram."

  "My dear Miss Franklyn, I beg your pardon," the lawyer ejaculated, as hestraightened his hat and readjusted his spectacles, which had nearlyfallen off in the contretemps. "I hope I didn't hurt you?" and helooked apologetically into the bright smiling eyes of the girl, whofound it difficult to refrain from laughing outright.

  "Not a bit, thank you," was Kathleen Franklyn's reply. "It was quite asmuch my fault as yours. I am afraid I was not looking where I was going;these chicks were drawing my attention to an organ-grinder, with alittle monkey, across the road."

  As she spoke, she looked round, expecting to find the children close athand. But alas! they had seized the opportunity--far too delightful tolose--of sister Kath's attention being distracted for a moment, and withwonderful noiselessness and rapidity had crossed the wide road, on whichthe traffic was somewhat heavy, and were already some little distanceaway, following with a small crowd of children in the wake of thewonderful monkey.

  "Oh! those naughty children," she cried, "they are always up tomischief. You and Mrs. Bertram are saved no end of anxiety by havingnone."

  "At any rate, they would have got past the monkey-admiring age by now,"was Mr. Bertram's reply, albeit there was a gleam of sadness in hiseyes, and a sigh escaped his lips. "But we must go after these youngmiscreants speedily."

  "Oh! please don't trouble," said Kathleen as she walked on quicklybeside him; "I shall soon pick them up, and I know you are in a hurry."

  "Because I tried to knock you down," he replied, with an amused laugh."The mischief I have done to-day is accumulating terribly."

  "If you have done no one any more harm than you have done me, I thinkyou need not begin to clothe yourself in sackcloth and ashes on accountof your sins at present," was Kathleen's saucily given reply, as sheshook hands hastily upon reaching Mr. Bertram's office, and hurriedafter the children, whom she had kept well in view.

  "A charming girl," soliloquised the little lawyer as he entered hisdull-looking office, and felt as if he had left all the brightnessoutside. "Franklyn is to be envied having such a troop of young peopleabout him. But I daresay he looks at it in quite another light:probably that of _L s. d_. Well, well, the best of us are neversatisfied, but I must say life would be very different for Mary and meif we had a bright young thing like Kathleen Franklyn about the house."And then he turned his attention to legal affairs.

  Meanwhile, Kathleen had succeeded in catching up to the little truants,and was giving them a lecture on their misbehaviour, in what wasintended to be a very severe tone.

  "It was really _very_ naughty, Joan, very naughty indeed. You are olderthan Paddy, and should not have taken him into mischief." And shelooked reproachfully into the dark grey eyes of the little girl, whosehand she now held tightly. "You might have been knocked down, and runover, or even lost. All sorts of things might have happened to you," sheadded, piling on the agony, for she thought she might as well do itthoroughly while she was about it.

  "Oh, Kathie, we didn't mean to be naughty, truly we didn't," said littleJoan, somewhat awed by the calamities which her big sister wasenumerating so glibly; "did we, Paddy?"

  "No, didn't mean to be naughty," repeated five-year-old Paddy solemnly,a simply seraphic look on his sweet little face, which was surrounded bya halo of golden curls. "But it was such a _dear_ little monkey!" Andhe half turned his head, with a longing look after the object of hisaffections, now almost out of sight in the distance.

  But Kathleen drew him on. "Well, promise me never to run off like thatalone, again," she said, "or poor mother would be dreadfully upset.Just fancy if I had gone home without you, what would she have said?"

  "Spect she'd have said 'good riddance'!" was Master Pat's saucyrejoinder, as he looked roguishly up at his tall sister.

  "Oh! Pat, you are well called 'The Pickle,'" she cried, as she held thelittle chubby hand even more tightly, for this baby brother was the petand plaything of the whole family, albeit he kept them continually onthorns with the endless mischief he managed to get into.

  "Must you tell mother we ran away from you, Kathie?" whispered Joan,beseechingly, as they neared home. She was a very tender-hearted littlemaiden, who would seldom have given any trouble but for Paddy'smischievous suggestions, and the thought of her mother being grievedtroubled her.

  "No, dearie, I don't think we will tell her this time; but you won't doit again, will you?" said kind-hearted Kathleen, as she pushed open theheavy iron gate, and the trio walked up the somewhat weed-covered path,leading to a substantial red brick house, well known in Osmington as Dr.Franklyn's.

  As they entered the door, a girl of fourteen or so, a younger edition ofKathleen, rushed out into the hall.

  "What an age you've been, Kath!" she cried impetuously. "Elsa and Ithought you were never coming. Did you get what we wanted?"

  "Yes, yes, Olive, I have it all right, but give me time to breathe,"said Kathleen, as her younger sister began scrimmaging in her pocket."Mind you don't upset it!"

  "You dear old granny, how can it be upset if it isn't opened yet?" wasthe laughing reply, as Olive succeeded in securing a large tin ofenamel. "But, oh! Kath, what shall we do for a brush?" And her facefell considerably at the thought.

  "Well, I may be a 'granny,' but even they can be useful, for I had thesense to bring not only one, but two brushes!" And Kathleen producedthem with a merry laugh.

  "Well, you are a dear old darling"; and Olive hugged her sisterrapturously. "Now Elsa and I can both paint at the same time. Send thechildren to Nanny, Kath, and then come up quickly to the 'den.' We'veonly half an hour before tea."

  She flew up the shabbily carpeted stairs, two steps at a time, andfinally arrived at the top story, breathless. Bursting into one of theroomy attics, Olive sank down upon the first chair she came to fromsheer want of breath; but she quickly got up again with an exclamationof dismay, for she remembered now it was too late that that was whereshe had hastily stood the saucer of turpentine she had been using whenshe rushed off downstairs to meet Kathleen.

  "What's the matter, couldn't Kath get the paint?" queried a voice fromthe other end of the quaint, odd-shaped room, and her twin-sister cameslowly forward.

  Strangers never knew Olive and Elsa Franklyn apart, so much alike werethey in outward appearance, the dark hair and eyes, full rosy lips andslightly upturned nose of the one being a perfect replica of the other.But the similarity was only external; in habits and character they wereas widely diverse as the poles. Elsa was as quiet and methodical asOlive was noisy and impetuous in her actions; indeed their mothersometimes said she wished they could have been a little less alikeoutwardly, and a little more alike inwardly. It would have been betterin every way, she thought; only it was two Elsas, not two Olives, thatshe would have chosen.

  "Oh, I say, mother will be frantic!" cried Olive, as she vainlyendeavoured to see the extent of the damage done to her light greydress. Fortunately, the saucer did not contain much more than the dregsof the turpentine cook had given them, somewhat gingerly; but alas! theold bookcase and table that Olive had been seized with a desire torejuvenate, had been scarlet during the last phase of their existence,so that the turpentine they had been cleaning them with had becomedecidedly reddish! Consequently the skirt had taken that tone.

  "You _have_ made
yourself in a mess," was all Elsa could say, as shestood helplessly looking at the ugly stain which was growing visiblylarger, for the material had soaked up all the mixture.

  "If that's all you can do to help, you may just as well go on with yourold hammering," blurted out Olive, her vexation at the mishap fastturning into anger, for she knew punishment would inevitably follow upondiscovery. "I never did know such a stupid thing as you are, Elsa."And Olive blinked desperately hard to keep back the tears, which seemedas if they would choke, as well as blind her.

  "I don't see _what_ you can do," said poor Elsa, bravely refraining froman angry retort. There were those among her acquaintances who were wontto declare that she had not sufficient spirit to hold her own with hersomewhat tyrannical twin sister. But Elsa Franklyn had lately learntthat it is "the soft answer that turneth away wrath;" and although shewas often sorely tempted to return evil for evil, she remembered Him whonever answered back, and day by day the quiet, unobtrusive girl wasgrowing more like the Saviour whom she humbly sought to please.

  "Hadn't you better change your dress, Olive," she suggested, as hersister twisted the skirt, first this way, and then that, to get a betteridea of the extent of the damage.

  "Quite a brilliant idea, Miss Elsa," was Olive's sarcastic reply; "justwhat I was going to do." And the girl, who knew she had only her owncarelessness to thank for the catastrophe, gave the unoffending chairsuch a kick with her foot as she was going out of the door, that thesaucer, which was still upon it, slid off the shiny seat, and falling onthe linoleum-covered floor, was smashed into little bits.

  "Oh, Olive!"

  "Horrid, aggravating thing!" cried the hot-tempered girl. "Won't oldCookey be mad, though? She wanted to find an odd one, but she couldn't,so she gave me one of the kitchen set. I _shall_ catch it, when sheknows. But there's no hurry about that, the frock's the worst."

  Meanwhile, Elsa had been carefully collecting all the broken bits ofchina into an old box-lid, and was wiping up the floor with some ragthey had been using to clean their woodwork with. For a minute she wasinclined to let Olive bear the brunt of the cook's wrath, as apunishment for her silly outburst of temper, but the next she saidquietly: "I will take this down to the kitchen, Ollie, and explain tocook, while you go and change your frock. And if I can find Kathleenanywhere, I will send her up to you. She will know what had better bedone to it."

  With an incomprehensive look at Elsa, as if such conduct were beyond herken, Olive burst out, "Well, you are a dear good creature, Elsa; I'msorry now I was cross to you," and she looked affectionately into thequiet face Elsa lifted to hers, as she rose from her stooping posture.They were never at variance for long, this pair of twins, for if Olivewas careless and hot-tempered she was also generous and affectionate.

  "I know you didn't mean it," was all Elsa said, but the smile whichirradiated her face at the words of commendation was good to see.

  Elsa soon put matters right with cook (who had been for many years afaithful servant in the doctor's busy household) and was on her way tofind Kathleen, when she heard her name called.

  "Elsa, dear!"

  Gently pushing open the door of a room that was half bedroom and halfboudoir, she found the object of her search sitting beside a couch onwhich reclined a delicate looking lady, who, from the resemblance herdaughter bore her, was unmistakably their mother.

  "Did you want me, mamma?" she said, as she bent over the invalid.

  "Yes, darling, I heard a noise like something falling upstairs a littlewhile ago, and I was afraid one of you was hurt."

  Elsa had to stoop quite low to hear the whispered words, for it had beenone of the fragile mother's bad days, and she was very weak.

  In a few words Elsa explained the catastrophe, taking care not to makethe worst of Olive's temper; but both the mother and Kathleen readbetween the lines.

  The latter rose hastily, a look of annoyance on her girlish face.

  "Really, Olive is too careless," she said indignantly. "She is alwaysspoiling something; only last week she tore a long zig-zag slit in herblue serge dress, and now this grey one will be ruined, and she willhave nothing fit to go back to school in. I must go and see what can bedone, I suppose, but I shall give her a good scolding."

  "Don't be too harsh with her, Kathie," pleaded her mother. "It was verythoughtless of her, I know, but she will soon grow older now and be morecareful. Girls will be girls." And she looked at her tall, handsomedaughter, who had never given her a quarter of the trouble that Olivehad, with admiring and yet wistful eyes. How she wished for the sake ofher eight robust sons and daughters that she had not been compelled,since Paddy's babyhood, to spend the greater part of her life in her ownroom. But yet she could not regret the imprisonment, for it was onlysince she had been forced to give up her busy active life in the largehousehold, where the doctor's income never seemed sufficient to meet thehuge demands made upon it, that she had learnt that bringing up her boysand girls to be healthy and happy was not all that was necessary. Godhad taken the busy mother aside, and had shown her that her childrenwere only lent to her, to be trained for Him. And she had heard Hisloving voice, and was seeking now to do what she could to make amendsfor the years of lost opportunities. Her eldest daughter Lois (who, asfar as she could, had taken her mother's place in the household) andElsa had already chosen "that good part which shall never be takenaway." But the mother-heart yearned over her two big sons, Roger andDick, winsome Kathleen and careless Olive.

  She held Elsa's warm young hand in her nerveless grasp, as Kathleenclosed the door behind her, and drew the girlish face, aglow withhealth, down to hers, until their lips met in a long, lingering caress;this quiet, thoughtful little daughter was a great comfort to hermother.

  "I am afraid poor Olive was in a temper again, Elsa, for I do not seehow the saucer could have fallen by itself. But do not tell me, dear; Iwill speak to her myself when she comes in to see me later on."

  "She doesn't get into a temper _quite_ so often as she used to, mamma,"said Elsa, eager to defend the absentee. "At least, we don't have somany quarrels now."

  "I can guess why that is," whispered Mrs. Franklyn, tenderly, as shestroked the dark hair with her soft white fingers; "it takes two to makea quarrel, I used to be told in my childhood, and my Elsa tries veryhard nowadays not to be one of the two, doesn't she?"

  "Yes, mamma, generally, but I don't always succeed," and the girlishhead was half hidden in the rug which covered her mother's slight form,so that her words were only just audible. "Sometimes I fail; I didyesterday when we were having a game, but oh! mamma, I was so sorryafterwards." And she raised her tear-dimmed eyes to her mother's face.

  "Did you tell Jesus, darling?"

  "Oh! yes, mamma. I always do, directly, and----"

  "He has forgiven you, then, Elsa?"

  "Yes, mamma, I know He has; but oh! I do wish I could remember quicker,so as not to let the hasty words slip out. It must grieve Him so!"

  "So it does, my childie, but I am sure He is pleased, too, when He seeshow hard you fight against this enemy of yours, and He is only too readyto help you. Keep looking to Him for strength, Elsa, and go onpersevering, and pray for Olive, dear; her enemy is stronger far thanyours, and she does not try to conquer it."

  "I do, mamma, I do," murmured her little daughter.

  And then the tea-bell sounded through the house, summoning all the youngfolk to the large, plainly furnished dining-room where Lois Franklynpresided over the tea-tray. "Just her mother over again," was Dr.Franklyn's description of his eldest daughter, but there seemed littleresemblance, nowadays, between the fragile invalid and this tall,capable young woman of three-and-twenty. Lois was not so handsome asKathleen, but there was a certain indescribable charm about her, anameless something which was wont to retain the admiration thatKathleen's more youthful beauty at first sight attracted.

  From furtive glances at Kathleen and Olive, Elsa gathered that noserious trouble had arisen between the sisters; indeed,
Olive seemed onher best behaviour. So Elsa breathed freely, and concluded that theturpentine incident had blown over, as no mention was made of it. Themeal passed merrily enough; Kathleen's racy account of her contretempswith Mr. Bertram amusing them very much. Paddy and Joan were just beingreprimanded by Lois for running away, when Dr. Franklyn appeared on thescene, tired out after a long round of visits, and his children viedwith each other in making him comfortable.

  "How is your mother, Lois?" was his first query, as she poured out a cupof tea, and begged him to drink it at once, assuring him that theinvalid had rested a little, and felt a trifle better.

  He drank it hastily, and then set the cup down, saying: "I will havesome more when I come back: only one of you girls need wait for me."

  And Lois, seeing that he was physically worn out, despatched the youngerones in various directions, as soon as they had finished their tea, andthus secured a quiet room for her father in which to have hislong-waited-for meal in peace.