Monica's Choice

by George Bird Grinnell

  *CHAPTER XXI.*

  *"I GUESS I'LL JUST WATCH *_*YOU*_* A BIT."*

  "Monica!"

  "Yes, grannie?"

  "I want to talk to you for a few minutes."

  And Monica, without so much as a frown, although she had just reached amost interesting part of her story, laid her book down, and prepared togive all her attention to her grandmother. She had no idea that Mrs.Beauchamp was covertly watching her, as she frequently did, to seewhether she would exhibit any irritation or temper at the interruption;but if she had been aware of it, she could not have smiled morebrightly, or been more ready to give up her own wishes to please hergrandmother. Truly the Monica Beauchamp of the present was a totallydifferent being from the one of bygone days.

  The old lady noted her expression with an approving smile, and could nothelp acknowledging to herself that this grandchild of hers was fastbecoming very dear to her, and well deserved the pleasure that was instore for her.

  "I wanted to have a little talk about your birthday, Monica; it willsoon be here now."

  "Yes, grannie," replied the girl, with sparkling eyes. "Next Tuesday,the 27th."

  "And you will be sixteen. Dear me, how time flies, to be sure! I wellremember the day your dear father was the same age," Mrs. Beauchamp saidmusingly, and her thoughts went back to past days for a few moments.But they soon returned to the present, and she went on: "I wonder whatyou would choose if I said you might have what you liked for a birthdaypresent, Monica?" And she smiled into the eager, upturned face.

  "Oh, grannie, I don't know, I'm sure, _what_ I should choose; there areso many nice things!" And Monica turned over in her mind various thingsshe had been wishing she possessed. Most people would have thought thatshe already had everything that she could possibly want, but even thebest supplied of mortals can always do with "more." A nicewriting-case, some books, a new brooch--any or all of these would benice, and Monica was about to mention them, when a sudden thoughtflashed through her brain; here was the very opportunity she had beenwanting! If only Mrs. Beauchamp would give her money this birthday tospend as she liked!

  "Well, Monica, how long are you going to be choosing? Remember, I didnot say I would give you what you chose!"

  "Oh, grannie dear, I do hope you will!" coaxed Monica, in persuasivetones. "I would rather have it than anything else."

  "Well, what is it? Perhaps if it is anything in reason, you might haveit, but I warn you not to ask for a bicycle." Mrs. Beauchamp lookedquite stern, as if the mere mention of the article brought the pastvividly before her, but there was a suspicious twinkle in her eyes,which Monica did not notice.

  "No, grannie, I will never ask you for _that_," was Monica's subduedreply, although her active young limbs literally ached sometimes, whenshe saw other girls jumping on their bicycles and spinning off along thecountry roads. But she had long since given up expecting ever to do thesame, for she knew how her grandmother objected to women cyclists. "ButI do wish you would give me money instead of any other present, thisyear, grannie, because I want some very particularly."

  "What for?" asked the old lady curiously. "Surely you haven't exceededyour pocket-money, and got into debt like boys do; have you, Monica?"

  "Oh! dear, no, grannie," and Monica's laugh rang merrily out, "it isn'tanything of that kind! But if I tell you what I want it for, you won'tsay 'no,' will you, grannie dear? It's nothing wrong." And the cleargrey eyes sought the old lady's earnestly.

  "Very well; now, tell me."

  "Oh, you are a dear grannie!" said Monica enthusiastically. "I'll tellyou all about it. You know when we girls all went to the missionarymeeting at Sandyshore, Miss Daverel, the lady who spoke, said there werelots of ways girls could help; and we four made up our minds to see whatwe could do." Monica paused, and looked a trifle diffidently at Mrs.Beauchamp; she was not quite sure what sort of reception her words wouldget, for, as far as she knew, her grandmother had no more interest inforeign missions than old Richards, the coachman, had.

  But the old lady nodded, and seemed in no wise annoyed, so Monica tookcourage, and proceeded with her story. "We want to have a sort ofworking-party, just amongst us girls, with perhaps Mrs. Drury and MissFranklyn to help, and make all sorts of things to send out to China, forthe poor little girls and the women who are so sad and unhappy, MissDaverel says. She has promised to send us patterns and directions, andwe want to begin very soon; but you see, grannie, we must have somemoney to buy dolls and print, and wool, and all sorts of things with.And I _thought_, grannie dear, if you would give me money instead ofanything else, it would help us start, at any rate."

  "H'm." Mrs. Beauchamp said nothing in favour of the proposal, but thenshe did not say anything against it, which was fairly encouraging.Monica tried to read her thoughts by scanning the face which wasslightly turned away from her, but could make nothing of it. "Whyshould this undertaking be started with your money, Monica? Surely itis as much the others' affair as yours?"

  "Oh, yes, we all want to do it; but you see, grannie, none of the othershave much to spend, and I---- Oh, I do want to give something that Ishall miss, if it is only a little!" And Monica's girlish face glowedwith enthusiasm.

  "Well, I had intended giving you something that I believe you would haveliked very much, Monica; but if you would really rather have money tospend as you propose, you may count upon having a five-pound note onyour birthday instead. I was going to give you a bicycle."

  "Oh, grannie!" Amazement, consternation, hesitation, these, andcountless other emotions played upon the young girl's heart. First,utter astonishment that her grandmother should ever have dreamt ofrevoking her decision about cycling; then a great desire for thelong-coveted, and now possible machine took possession of her, andsomething within her said: "Here is the chance, at last, that you havebeen longing for. It is a pity you mentioned 'sacrifice,' but still, itdoes not matter, you have your choice, and your grandmother feels sureyou will choose the bicycle, that is why she urges you to consider."Oh, how subtle was the temptation! Only those similarly constituted canimagine what a battle was being fought in Monica's heart. Thebicycle--or the five-pound note: an endless amount of pleasure forherself--or the means to provide joy for others. How hard it was!Monica felt that no other choice that she might ever be called upon tomake could possibly equal this; for it was just the one thing she didwant, and yet----

  "Don't decide hastily, Monica," said her grandmother, seeing that shehesitated; "think it well over, and tell me to-morrow which you havechosen."

  Monica was glad that it was nearly bedtime, for she longed to get awayto her own room and think. Once there, she determined to fight thematter out, and a very sharp battle it proved, this first real denial ofself. For some time, it seemed as if she _must_ choose the bicycle, andsatisfy her conscience by scraping together all the pocket-money shecould muster (only a few shillings) and giving that to the missionarycause. She had not promised the girls a large amount, they knew nothingof the offer of the five pounds, and never need know. Her grandmotherquite expected her to choose the bicycle, yes--she would decide uponthat, and perhaps her father or some one else would give her a presentof money, and if so, that should be added to the sum in her purse, andwould provide quite a nice start for the working-party.

  Monica began to feel quite self-sacrificing, and having, as she thought,made a final decision, she proceeded to prepare for bed, her mind fullof the joy and pleasure that the possession of (and permission to use) abicycle of her own would afford.

  Her thoughts were still running in the same direction when she openedher little Bible and began to read a few verses, as she had done lately.She did not read according to any plan, she had never heard of such athing as a Union for Bible Reading, so that she was just readingstraight on through the gospels, and finding out many wonderful truths.She had read as far as Matt. xvi. 20 last time, and the little ribbonmarker was laid between the pages. Her brain was still very full of
thebicycle, and soon she found that she had read some few verses withouthaving taken in the sense of them at all! So with an effort she soughtto fix her wandering thoughts on the printed page, and as she did so,the words of the next verse seemed to stand out from it as if theletters were made of fire; at any rate they burnt right into her verysoul.

  "Then said Jesus unto His disciples, If any man will come after Me, lethim deny himself."

  Oh, how that one short sentence, straight from the lips of the Saviour,accused Monica! How guilty she felt! How small must be her love forHim, if she could, even for one short hour, think more of her ownpersonal pleasure and gratification, than the needs of great, dark,heathen China! She fell on her knees beside the pretty white bed, andburying her face in her hands, she sobbed out her sorrow and humiliationinto the ear of Him who never fails to hear His children's cry forpardon. And as she prayed, a deep, sweet peace filled her heart, and sheknew that she was forgiven. Thus Monica Beauchamp was enabled totriumph over self, and the first real sacrifice she had been called uponto make, since becoming a Christian, was willingly, nay, gladly made.

  The next day, Mrs. Beauchamp, not without some misgiving (for she didnot want Monica to fall short of her expectations, though she wouldhardly confess so much, even to herself), asked for her decision.

  "I would like the five pounds best, please, grannie dear," was thebright reply, while a little flush rose to the young girl's face.

  The old lady's heart thrilled with pleasure, but she evinced no sign ofit.

  "Very well, Monica," was all she said; and if her granddaughter hadexpected to be asked for her reasons, she would have been disappointed;but Monica was glad that no more was said. The experience of the nightbefore was too real, too solemn, for her to talk it over, and she wastoo honest to have given any but her real reason.

  With a glad heart, and a bright song often upon her lips, she preparedfor school next day, and Mrs. Beauchamp, catching snatches of therefrain every now and then, marvelled at the total change that had takenplace in her grandchild. "It is simply wonderful," she murmured,"wonderful! She used to be _such_ an anxiety, and now she is just thereverse. I am glad for Conrad's sake; he will find a treasure when hereturns, if this condition of things lasts." And the old lady sighed awee bit doubtfully; but then she had no experimental knowledge of theSaviour who is "able to keep from falling," as well as "able to save."

  The little governess cart was brought round from the stables punctuallyat nine o'clock the next morning, and Monica jumped into it, closelyfollowed by Jack.

  "No, no, poor Jack, you can't go with me to-day," she said, as she triedin vain to get him out of the trap; "I'm going to school, my doggie, andyou can't go there."

  Tom, the little stable-boy, who had been holding Caesar's head, andgrinning with delight at Jack's persistence, volunteered to carry himback and fasten him up in the yard.

  "Poor old fellow," said his mistress, as Richards gathered up the reins,and the pony trotted briskly down the drive, for Jack's whines andshort, yapping barks of disappointment could be heard for some distance.

  "Pony's a bit fresh this morning, miss," remarked the old coachman, whohad all his work cut out to hold him in, for the road to Osmington was adownhill one. "Steady there, steady," he said, as Caesar tossed hisdark-brown mane, resentful of some little flicks of the whip.

  "A nasty-tempered h'animal 'e is sometimes; look how he bit your 'and,miss."

  "Oh, that was all my own fault, Richards," replied Monica; "I deservedthat."

  "Well, he didn't ought to have snapped out at you like that," continuedthe old man. "Belle and Beauty wouldn't have done such a thing, never,"and he shook his grey head decisively, for "the pair" constituted thejoy and pride of his heart, and he had never forgiven the introductionof the pony.

  "They are always so quiet and gentle," agreed Monica, and the oldcoachman, having subdued Caesar into going at a steady trot, rambled onabout the merits of "the pair" until the short drive was over.

  "I do _wonder_ if Lily Howell will turn up," thought Monica to herself,as she entered the school door, greeting one and another as she passedthem on her way to the cloak-room. There she found Amethyst Drury, whoinformed her that several of the girls had been moved up, but thequartette was still intact.

  "And oh, Monica," she added, in an excited whisper, "Lily Howell musthave come back! There is that pink and green hat of hers; no other girlwould have one exactly like it, would she?"

  Monica, glancing at the pegs, and seeing what was unmistakably one ofLily's well-known, gaudy hats, was not as astonished or disconcerted asAmethyst could have wished.

  "I think there is no doubt about it, Thistle," she said quietly. "Ishall be glad to find Lily has come back."

  "Whatever for?" enquired the younger girl, in a puzzled tone. Monicahad been incomprehensible to her lately.

  But Monica was entering the hall by the swing-door, and only smiled heranswer, for talking was forbidden. With one swift glance she saw thatLily, looking certainly less defiant than usual, was in her old place,and with a glad feeling in her heart, Monica slipped into her usualposition at Olive's side, persistently ignoring the telegraphic messagesthat Olive's dark eyes were continually dispatching, until thehead-mistress's bell announced the commencement of prayers.

  Every one of the girls was more or less excited that first morning atschool after the long holidays, but the air of the Fourth Form seemedcharged with electricity. No one, except Monica and Lily, knew how ithad come about that the latter was again amongst them; and even thosetwo were wondering just what would happen, when Miss Buckingham appearedin the doorway.

  "Good morning, girls. I am glad to meet you all once again," she saidin the energetic, crisp fashion peculiar to her. "I hope you have allthoroughly enjoyed your holidays, and have now come back prepared towork hard. Some of you may be surprised to see one of your number hereagain, after what occurred last term; but when I tell you that she hasapologised, and I have entirely consented to overlook what took placethen, I am sure I may depend upon you, one and all, to do your share inhelping to blot out the memory of the past, and by your kindness andconsideration, strive to emulate the Spirit of Him who said: 'Whatsoeverye would that men should do to you, do ye even so to them.' I am notafraid that this unaccustomed leniency will be taken a mean advantageof, or I should warn you not to count upon a repetition of it. Insteadof that, I advise you, one and all, to throw all your energies into thisterm's work, particularly those among you who will be candidates for theJunior Cambridge Examination at its close, and I shall look forward toseeing the majority of your names in the 'Honours' List."

  The excitement caused by Miss Buckingham's words soon subsided, andbeyond being the object of a good deal of staring, Lily Howell was notinterfered with; and as the morning wore on, she began to feel lessuncomfortable. It had been a hard tussle to get her to write theapology, and, but for her father threatening to send her to liveindefinitely, with her strict aunt if she did not, she would haveabsolutely refused. But now that it was over, and the head-mistress hadspoken so kindly, as even Lily could not help feeling, the girl began tosee how despicable her conduct had been, and she was seized with asudden desire to prove to the whole form that she could be as nice agirl as any of them, if she liked.

  Fortunately, Maggie Masters, her former ally, was no longer at school,having left the neighbourhood, so that Lily had every opportunity ofmaking a fresh start, and she took advantage of it. As the days passed,the change in her was very noticeable--even those who had always felt anaversion for her could no longer find any complaint to make; she waspainstaking and persevering, and being by no means wanting in ability,she bade fair to rival the most clever in the class. But she kept alooffrom the girls; she felt, instinctively, that in spite of MissBuckingham's expressed wish, they were not willing to let bygones bebygones. They did not twit her, or indeed make any allusion to thepast, but they simply let her alone.

  All but Monica Beauchamp and Elsa Frank
lyn, who from the very first dayof the term had tried their best to be friendly. But she repulsed them,feeling convinced that they were only patronising her; it was animpossibility for a nature like Lily Howell's to realise that both thosegirls were actuated by the same principle, that of "loving one another."

  "I can't think what you did it for," she remarked to Monica, referringto the letter of intercession the latter had written on her behalf,"unless it was to make Miss Buckingham think a lot of you. Weren't youmad when she never even mentioned your name?" And the girl lookedcuriously at Monica, who was a complete enigma to her.

  "Oh, Lily! I never once thought of such a thing," she replied, in apained tone.

  "Well, what _was_ it for, then?" persisted Lily.

  "I don't think you would understand if I told you," was the reply.

  "Why not, pray? Ma said it was because you had turned religious lately.Is that why?" And Lily's light blue eyes scanned the other's faceinquisitively.

  "I have not turned 'religious' as you call it, Lily," said Monicagently, although a flush rose to her cheek; "I have only given myself toJesus Christ, and I am trying to follow Him. I _do_ wish you would,too, Lily," she added earnestly.

  "My gracious goodness!" ejaculated Lily, inelegantly, for she wascompletely taken aback. "I guess I'll just watch _you_ a bit, and seethe effect before I go in for it."

  Monica had to bite her lip hard to keep back the tears that would springto her eyes, for she was tremendously in earnest, and Lily's mockingwords jarred cruelly. "I am afraid you will see more failures thananything else," she said, in a low tone; "but you must not judge ofJesus Christ by me. He is the One to copy, He never fails or makesmistakes."

  "Pa always says Christian people are far more often 'libels' than'Bibles,' and that's why he doesn't believe in them," said Lily, toherself, as Monica and she separated; "but if I'm not mistaken, MissMonica will prove an exception to that rule. All I know is, _I_ wouldn'thave done for _her_, what she did for _me_! So there must be somethingin it!"