*CHAPTER XX.*
*"KEEP IT UP, IT ANSWERS VERY WELL."*
A few days after Mrs. Franklyn's funeral, Monica Beauchamp, looking veryfresh and dainty in a pretty linen frock and straw hat was walking upthe shady road leading from the town to The Cedars, Mr. Howell'sresidence.
She had never yet paid the visit she had promised on the day shesprained her ankle, so Monica had coaxed her grandmother into droppingher in the town, that afternoon, while she drove on to pay a call at alittle distance in the country. For some time a plan had been formingin the girl's mind, and a visit to Mrs. Howell was necessary before itcould be put into execution.
"I hope Mrs. Howell will be in," she said to herself, as she entered thewhite gates, and walled up the beautifully kept drive, "and I almosthope that Lily will be _out_," she added; for upon the only occasion sheand Lily had met since the unhappy affair at school, the latter hadpassed Monica with no attempt at recognition, beyond an ugly scowl. Atthe time (it was before she went to Sandyshore) Monica had felt verymuch inclined to return the scowl with interest, except that sheconsidered Lily utterly beneath contempt. But lately she had had verydifferent feelings towards her would-be injurer, and it was chiefly onher account that she was so anxious to pay her mother a visit.
Mrs. Howell being at home, Monica was ushered into a huge andmagnificently furnished drawing-room, decorated lavishly with plushhangings, of decidedly gay hues, and was warmly welcomed by her hostess,who was delighted to see her.
A quarter of an hour passed pleasantly in chatting over the sprainedankle, long since well, and the holiday she had enjoyed so much, andthen Monica broached the subject uppermost in her mind.
"Mrs. Howell," she began diffidently, for she was not quite sure how herproposal would be received, "did Lily tell you _all_ about theexamination affair?"
"Well, my dear, by degrees we got to know the rights of it, though shewould not tell us till her pa threatened to punish her, if she didn'tspeak out. He was in a great taking when the notice came that she wasn'tto go back no more, and he packed her off to stay with his step-sister,a very strict woman, and poor Lily has had a very rough time of it. Sheonly came back yesterday, and wouldn't have done then, only for her auntbeing took ill; for it was her pa's intention to let her bide there somemonths. Now he talks of sendin' her to boardin'-school, but where to hehasn't no idea. All our plans for her schoolin' was upset-like, yousee, my dear, by that notice, and her pa was terrible annoyed to thinkit all came about through her trying to do you a bad turn. For, to tellthe truth, my dear," Mrs. Howell rambled on garrulously, "he thinks asight of you, does Bob. He would have wrote to apologise, but hecouldn't get Lily to say she was sorry, nohow. Oh! dear me, whattrouble that girl has caused us, and 'twill be far worse when she comes'ome from boardin'-school." And the poor woman whimpered distressingly.
"Don't cry, dear Mrs. Howell," said Monica gently; "perhaps she won'thave to go away to school at all. Would you like her to go back to theHigh School if she could? Do you think she would go?"
"Oh, my dear, there's no chance!" was the dismal reply, as Mrs. Howellwiped her florid face with a tiny muslin handkerchief; "they wouldn'ttake her back now. I only wish they would. I know Lily would bedelighted really, although she's said times and times that she'd ratherdie than ever go there again."
"Well, don't tell her, please, in case it falls through, but grandmotherthinks I might write to Miss Buckingham, and perhaps she would overlookit this once and let Lily go back." Monica spoke earnestly, and therewas no hint of pride in her tones, neither did she say that it had takena good deal of persuasion to get Mrs. Beauchamp to consent to let herwrite on her school-fellow's behalf.
"Oh, Miss Beauchamp, my dear, if you only would!" ejaculated Mrs.Howell, delight and incredulity struggling for the mastery in both tonesand countenance. "But it does seem strange that you that's been injuredshould be the one to do us a good turn. I can't think why you should!"And she looked searchingly into the flushed face opposite her, as if shewould find the motive written upon it.
Monica was sorely tempted to make just a mere commonplace reply, but shesummoned up all the courage she could, and gave Mrs. Howell the realreason, realising that this was an opportunity afforded her ofwitnessing to her new Master.
"I don't know whether you know Him, dear Mrs. Howell," she said, atrifle nervously, but with intense earnestness, "but while I was away Iaccepted the Lord Jesus Christ as my Saviour, and He has forgiven me somuch, that I can't help forgiving everybody else. And I think He toldme to show Lily how I feel, by trying to do this. Oh, I do hope MissBuckingham will make it right! I almost think she will."
"Oh, my dear, my dear!" said Mrs. Howell, tremulously, in her eagernessclutching hold of Monica's hands; "you've found some One I've beenwanting for years! My heart's just breaking for want of peace."
And in very simple fashion, for it was all such new and unaccustomedwork to her, Monica tried to feed this hungry, longing soul with theBread of Life. She felt so helpless, but trusting to the Holy Spirit'sguidance, she repeated a great deal of the sermon which she would neverforget; and Mrs. Howell seemed to literally drink it all in.
"God bless you, my dear," she murmured, as Monica at length rose inhaste, having discovered that the time arranged for her to meet thecarriage was already past--"God bless and reward you for all you'vedone. I've been a sinful woman, all my life, but please God this shallbe the beginning of better things."
Monica hurried down the hill, a song of thanksgiving in her heart, and ahappy smile flickering about her lips. How delightful this new lifewas! Not for anything would she go back now to the careless, thoughtlessdays of the past, when she had given others such endless trouble, andbeen so discontented and miserable herself. She felt as if she lovedeverybody, that beautiful September day, and as if it would beimpossible ever to displease any one again.
But, alas! a rude stare, without a trace of recognition in it, from theobject of her solicitude, with whom she came suddenly face to face asshe turned a corner, and upon whom she bestowed a radiant smile, andcordial "How do you do, Lily?" sent her on the rest of her way with asmall cloud in her hitherto cloudless sky, and a nasty little feeling ofwounded pride endeavoured to make itself felt. However, she consoledherself with the thought that Lily would soon have cause to thinkdifferently of her, and hastened to the place where she had promised towait for the carriage.
But, unfortunately, it was just the other way round! The carriage, withMrs. Beauchamp in it, had been waiting some time for Monica, and hergrandmother greeted her with words of displeasure.
"I am very much annoyed, Monica; you are fifteen or twenty minutesbehind time," she said severely. "Richards has been driving up anddown, up and down, all that time, lest the horses should take cold; theywere so very warm. It was very thoughtless indeed of you, to keep mewaiting like this."
"I am very sorry, grannie," was all Monica said, as she seated herselfbeside her grandmother in the landau; and it spoke volumes for her thather voice was gentle, and her look penitent. Monica of old would nothave answered thus, and Mrs. Beauchamp knew it, and thoroughlyappreciated the change, although she said nothing. Indeed, silencereigned during the drive, and it was not until they were in thedrawing-room after dinner that Mrs. Beauchamp enquired the result ofMonica's visit.
"You might as well write to Miss Buckingham this evening, if you arestill anxious to do so," she said, when she had heard what Mrs. Howellsaid; "there is no time to spare, as the letter will have to beforwarded to wherever she is spending her holidays."
And Monica gladly fetched her writing-case, and began to write whatproved to be a very difficult epistle. Her pen had to be nibbledthoughtfully many times before the letter was accomplished, and then theresult was not all that the writer could wish. She was rather afraidthat Mrs. Beauchamp would ask to see it before it went; but,fortunately, just as Monica had signed her name, in school-girlcalligraphy, at the end of perhaps t
he most tidy letter she had everwritten, the old lady roused up from the little doze in which she hadbeen indulging, and bade Monica hasten, or she would lose the post.
"I have just finished, grannie," and as Monica laid down her pen,Harriet came to say that Richards was waiting for the letters.
"Have you any to send to-night, grannie? No? Then there is only thisone, Harriet," and Monica breathed a sigh of relief as she shut up herwriting-case and prepared to read to her grandmother.
Not the most agreeable of tasks was this; for Mrs. Beauchamp consideredthat it was "improving" for her granddaughter to read aloud for at leasthalf an hour every evening. Monica was not a very fluent reader, sothat she was continually being pulled up for leaving out commas, or foremphasising quite the wrong word. The interruptions would have beenvery trying if the book had been even the least bit interesting, but asit really seemed to have been chosen for its dryness and dullness,Monica did not mind. However, she tried her hardest, nowadays, to readcarefully, and with a fair amount of expression, and she was far lessoften interrupted than she used to be. She did want to be what MarcusDrury called a "whatsoever" Christian.
"You really begin to read quite nicely, Monica," her grandmother saidapprovingly, as she finished a chapter, and was told that would do forthat evening. "Your father would be greatly pleased with theimprovement there has been in you lately."
Tears of joy sprang to Monica's eyes, as she put the book away, and thenstooped and gave the old lady a "good-night" kiss.
"What has made the difference in you, Monica?"
And for the second time that day the young girl answered radiantly, buthumbly, "The Lord Jesus Christ."
"Little Elsa said that was what it was," muttered Mrs. Beauchamp underher breath, as she toyed nervously with her eye-glasses. "Well, child,keep it up, it answers very well," she added, in a louder tone.
"It would be no use for me to try to keep myself, grannie dear," was thestammering reply, "for I should do something wrong directly, but when Ilet Jesus hold me tight, then it is all right."
Mrs. Beauchamp made no answer, and, after waiting a moment or two,Monica slipped off, fearful lest she had offended her grandmother.
But the old lady sat thinking deeply for a long, long time--thinking ofthe past when she was a girl of Monica's age, and with as headstrong anature as hers--thinking of her married life, when her whole time andthought had been given to the things of this world--thinking of theunrestful, unsatisfying present, and of the dark, dark future stretchingout beyond.
"Little Elsa told me, once, that she prayed God every day to bless me,"she murmured, while a tear trickled slowly down her cheek. "God blessthe child ... and me, too!"
A week elapsed before any reply came to Monica's letter, and she beganto be afraid that Miss Buckingham would not make known her decisionbefore it was too late, for the school reopened in another few days.However, one morning, the long-looked-for letter arrived, and the girl'sheart was overjoyed when she found that her request had been granted,and that Lily Howell would be allowed to re-attend the school if shewrote an apology for her past conduct, and sent it to the head-mistresswithout delay. Miss Buckingham added that it had been a matter ofregret with her, that one of her scholars should have had to leave theschool under such circumstances, so that if Lily were really penitent,the past should be overlooked; more especially as the girl she hadendeavoured to injure had taken upon herself the task of interceding forher.
"I wish she hadn't put that last bit in," mused Monica, "because thatwill very likely offend Lily more than ever, because she will hate tothink she owes anything to me. However, I can't help that; I have donewhat seemed right, and I must just leave the result, and I am dreadfullyafraid she won't apologise. Well, I'll do as grannie suggests--justsend Miss Buckingham's letter to Mrs. Howell, and then wait to see whathappens."
A little note, badly expressed and ill-spelt, but breathing gratitude inevery line, from Mrs. Howell, was all that Monica received, and in itthere was only a hope expressed that Lily would send the apology, but nocertainty. So she had to be patient, and wait a little longer.
Meanwhile, she kept the matter quite secret, not even breathing a wordof it to Olive, for she thought, and very wisely, that if the wholeaffair fell through, it would be much better for no one to have knownanything of it. But Monica was not very clever at keeping a secret, andif she had seen much of the Franklyns the probability is, that in amoment of forgetfulness she would have divulged it. However, the girlsmet but seldom during the days that elapsed between Mrs. Franklyn'sfuneral and the school reopening.
Once, when Monica was in Osmington, she ran up against Amethyst Drury,and, as they were talking, Mr. Howell's motor car passed them, remindingthe younger girl of his daughter.
"I saw Lily the other day, Monica, and she wouldn't look at me. Shewalked by just as proud as Lucifer. The idea! As if we were all toblame, and she was innocent! I'm awfully glad she won't be at schoolany more."
"I daresay we should feel pretty much as she does, Thistle, if we werein her place," was Monica's reply; "she can't enjoy herself much."
"Quite as much as she deserves," said Amethyst, with decision; "horridcheat!"
"Oh, Thistle!" Monica's tone was reproachful.
"Well, I ought not to have said that, I know," said Amethyst penitently,"but I _don't_ like her; do you, Monica?"
"I am afraid I can't say I really like her," Monica confessed honestly;"but still she may be sorry inside, you know, and, perhaps, if we hadbeen kinder to her at first, she would have been nicer to us now. I meanshe would feel that we did not think the very worst of her," addedMonica, a trifle lamely. She knew what she meant herself, but haddifficulty in expressing it.
"I am afraid the worst is about right," was Amethyst's sententiousanswer, as they parted. And Monica could not help wondering just _what_the girls, as a whole, would say, if Lily should reappear at the HighSchool again.
Monica's Choice Page 20
