Monica's Choice

by George Bird Grinnell

  *CHAPTER XXII.*

  *"I CANNOT SPARE YOU, MONICA."*

  Tuesday, September 27th, dawned bright and fair, as all birthdaysshould, and Monica, girl-like, was full of curiosity as to what presentsshe would have, beyond the one already promised.

  Several inviting-looking packages were laid beside her plate on thebreakfast table, and also some letters. Monica made a dash at them,hoping, not without a good deal of misgiving, that there would be onefrom her father.

  "There is!" she exclaimed aloud, in her delight, just as Mrs. Beauchampentered the dining-room, and greeted her with the old-time wish of "manyhappy returns," and bestowed upon her one of her rare kisses.

  "What is there?" she queried, as she slipped a sealed envelope among theother presents, and took her seat at the head of the table.

  "Why, actually a letter from dad, grannie, come on the very day," sheexplained, in glee, as she held it up. "And here is one from MissHerschel, too, but she does not know when my birthday is, so that hasonly come by chance. Isn't that odd?"

  "Very," agreed Mrs. Beauchamp, as she began to pour out the coffee."Now eat your breakfast, and then you can look at your packages."

  Either Monica's usually keen appetite was very small, or her digestionvery good, on that particular morning, for in a very few minutes sheexpressed herself as "quite finished," and then began undoing stringsand paper with eager fingers.

  A dear little pocket Bible "with love from Amethyst and her mother"; acrudely drawn, but wonderfully life-like portrait of Jack, nicelyframed, from Olive; a beautifully-worked nightdress-case from Elsa: bothinexpensive gifts, for the twins had very little pocket-money. Thenthere was a very handsome collar for Jack, the united gift of theservants.

  "I can't think who this is from," said Monica, taking up the last parceland hastily cutting the string. "Oh, grannie, do look!" she cried,holding up a plain leather frame containing the photograph of RobinaHerschel and her brother, taken together. In the frame was slipped ascrap of paper, bearing the words: "In memory of happy days atSandyshore."

  "Oh, I _am_ glad to have that!" said Monica, as she gazed upon thepictured features of the two she admired so much, the fair, fragile girlpresenting such a contrast to her firm, resolute brother. "I suppose itis in return for the snapshot which Marcus took, that I gave them. Buthow could they--I mean who could have told them when my birthday was?"

  "Probably the letter will explain," suggested Mrs. Beauchamp, who wasnot quite sure that she approved of a _double_ photograph. But a hastyglance at Monica's innocent face disarmed all suspicion.

  It soon transpired that Elsa had been the little bird who had been onlytoo ready to tell Miss Herschel when Monica's birthday was; and thus themystery was quickly cleared up. Robina only wrote a short letter, asthey were all very busy getting her brother's things ready for hisvoyage to Africa. He was to be dismissed, among other missionaries, ata public meeting in London in the course of a few days, and would startfor the Soudan almost immediately after. "He sends you his best wishes,not only for your birthday, but for always," the letter concluded, "andsays that you will find his good-bye message in Colossians i. 9, 10. Weshall miss him terribly, mother and I, but we are quite, quite willing.Perhaps Mrs. Beauchamp would spare you to pay us a little visit afterChristmas, while your holidays were on. Tell her, mother says we wouldtake the greatest care of you!"

  Monica read the last two sentences aloud, before she folded up theletter and put it in its envelope.

  "It would be nice, grannie, wouldn't it? I hardly remember going awayon a visit to any one."

  "We must see," remarked Mrs. Beauchamp, in not very gushing tones.Strangely enough, the mere thought of parting with this granddaughter ofhers, even for a week or two, filled her with dismay; she had grown tobe dependent upon her for company, and the bright, cheery, girlishpresence would be sadly missed at Carson Rise now.

  And yet, Monica must go out into the world, and make friends and seemany phases of life, of which she was utterly ignorant now. So shestifled a sigh, and added: "It is very kind of Mrs. Herschel to inviteyou, and it would make a nice little change for you, during the winter."

  Monica, whose face had fallen somewhat at her grandmother's firstremark, brightened up visibly. She _would_ so like to go and stay withthe Herschels, and she had been afraid Mrs. Beauchamp meant to refuseher consent, but now the prospect looked more hopeful.

  "Two more letters and then I've done," she said gaily, opening theenvelope bearing the old lady's handwriting first. Inside it was acrisp, new five-pound note, wrapped in a half-sheet of notepaper.

  "Oh, thank you so much, grannie dear!" she said, as she fingered therustling bit of paper which meant so much for the cause she had atheart: her imagination already pictured all sorts of nice things forChina which that sum would procure.

  "Are you not sorry now that you did not choose the bicycle?" said hergrandmother drily.

  "No, grannie, indeed I am not," was the bright response, for down inMonica's young heart was a deep sense of satisfaction that that battlewith self had been fought and won the week before; for however muchcommon sense may say to the contrary, the Bible axiom that "it is moreblessed to give than to receive" still holds good.

  "Now for dad's letter." With a hasty glance at the clock, which toldher she had only a few minutes to spare, Monica tore open the thinenvelope, and with eager fingers unfolded the closely written sheet. Fora few seconds no words were spoken, and then she lifted her face, whichwas full of excitement and bubbling over with joy.

  "Oh, grannie, he's coming home!" she cried; "something quite unexpectedhas changed all his plans, and instead of the regiment staying out inSimla, it's been ordered home, and when he gets to England, dad's goingto retire. Oh, isn't it lovely! Just fancy, grannie, he won't go awayfrom home any more, and he says he will then be able to look after histroublesome child himself, and relieve you of all responsibility.Naughty dad!" she added, while a little thrill of pleasure ran throughher at the remembrance of the long letter sent from Sandyshore, whichwould only just be arriving at Simla then. "I don't think I'm quite somuch trouble now, am I, grannie? And I am sure you would miss me just alittle bit, wouldn't you?"

  She looked up roguishly, and was amazed to see her grandmother's eyeswere looking suspiciously wet.

  "I cannot spare you, Monica, I could not give you up now," she saidtremulously; "your father must make his home here, as long as I live."

  A sudden impulse prompted Monica to slip out of her place, and give hergrandmother a caress, and a moment later they were locked in eachother's arms: the first embrace the girl had ever received from theundemonstrative old lady. But it was only the forerunner of many more;the possibility of losing her grandchild had shown Mrs. Beauchamp howintensely she loved her, and the proud reserve of her nature totteredand fell before the flood of love which came rushing in.

  "When does he speak of coming, Monica?" she asked, as she wiped hereyes, and felt if her dainty lace cap was on straight, while Monicareturned to her letter.

  "He doesn't quite know yet, grannie dear," she replied, glancing itquickly through, "but it might be in time for him to spend Christmaswith us. Oh, isn't it almost too splendid, to think of seeing mydarling dad quite two years sooner than I had ever dreamt, and then, notjust for a little while, but for always!"

  And Monica, gathering up all her packages, rushed upstairs to get readyfor school in a perfect maze of delight.

  She was already behind time, so that she could only put all her lettersand presents into a half-empty drawer, to be admired more fully upon herreturn. But she just managed to look out Leslie Herschel's text, andsome of the words, which she never remembered having seen before,fastened themselves upon her memory.

  "We ... do not cease to pray for you, and desire that ye might be filledwith the knowledge of His will ... that ye might walk worthy of the Lordunto all pleasing."

  "What a beautiful 'Good-bye' message," she
murmured, as she closed herBible, and began putting on her hat and coat. "I am sorry to thinkperhaps I shall never see him again, but I will try to become what hewould wish, in case we should ever come across each other in years tocome. Dear old dad would like the Herschels, I am sure."

  The Franklyns and Amethyst were quite excited at Monica's news which shetold them during recreation, until Olive remembered that ColonelBeauchamp's return to England _might_ mean Monica leaving theneighbourhood and school, too; but she soon reassured them, feelingconvinced that her father would fall in with her grandmother's wishes.Then she began talking about their work for China, and told them of thefive pounds which Mrs. Beauchamp had given her, and which was to bespent on materials. She did not think it necessary to mention that itwas in lieu of any other present, and, curiously enough, it did notoccur to the girls to ask what her grandmother's real birthday gift toher, personally, had been.

  "We must have a committee meeting," said Olive importantly. She hadmade up her mind to enter heart and soul into the project, but herreason for doing so was very different from the others; she thought,poor child, that by working hard she would be able to drown the voice ofconscience, which never rested, and was always accusing her. "I supposewe four will be the committee."

  "Yes, if you like," Monica agreed, laughingly; all this was new groundto her. "Where shall we meet?"

  "Mother says we can have my old playroom to use just as we like," pipedAmethyst, "and we can have the working parties there, too."

  "Lovely! Splendid! Just the place."

  These, and other similar explanations greeted the proposal, which wasunanimously accepted, and arrangements were quickly made for a committeeon the following Saturday afternoon, to be followed by an expeditioninto the town to buy sufficient things to start the work with. MissDaverel's instructions were expected to arrive at any time, Monicahaving written to her some days previously.

  The bell rang before they had finished planning everything; but enoughhad been arranged for the time being, and the quartette went into schoolwith very light hearts, and the lessons went well that day. Indeed, MissChurchill had a model class that term, the greater number of her pupilsbeing intent on doing both their teacher and themselves credit. Her onlyregret was that the girls would probably all do so well in theexaminations that there would be a wholesale removal, and she would losethem all next term! Of Monica she had grown particularly fond. Thestory of her intercession on Lily Howell's behalf had, of course, becomeknown to the teachers, though it had not been allowed to reach the earsof the girls, and Mary Churchill admired the spirit which had promptedsuch an action. There was a subtle change in Monica Beauchamp, too, anindefinable something which was rounding off the sharp corners of herdisposition, and the teacher could not think what it was. Good andupright as Mary Churchill was, she was, as yet, a stranger to Him Whocan make all the crooked places in the lives of His children straight,and the rough places smooth, or she would have recognised His handiwork.

  However, she looked on and wondered, as day succeeded day, and thealteration not only lasted, but actually became intensified. Not thatMonica became the least bit "goody-goody," even Olive could never sayshe was that; she was just as bright and laughter-loving as ever, andfond of every kind of fun that did no one any harm. But her companionssoon found that it was useless to get her to join in a joke, or laugh,carried out at some one else's expense, and nothing would persuade herto do behind a teacher's back what she would not do before her face!

  Lily Howell, watching keenly, noted all these things, and being aquick-witted girl drew her own conclusions. Monica had not proved to bea "libel," and she felt constrained to admire the girl whom she usedalmost to hate.

  Sometimes the remembrance that Lily was judging Christianity by itseffect upon her daily life prevented Monica from doing, or sayingsomething, in a moment's thoughtlessness, that would have broughtdiscredit on her Master's cause. But far more often it was therealisation of His presence, unseen, but very real, which kept her fromdoing that which would grieve Him, for she had taken as her motto LeslieHerschel's text, "Walk worthy of the Lord, unto all pleasing."

  Elsa Franklyn, who had been learning very hard lessons lately in theschool of sorrow, was a great help to Monica. Indeed, when things wentwrong Monica got into the way of telling Elsa all about it, and thequiet, gentle girl, who was so diffident of any attempt at advising theelder one, yet seemed, somehow, to straighten out the tangles in awonderful way.

  Olive, whose unrest made her captious and pettish at times, wassometimes inclined to be jealous of her twin-sister, and angry withMonica for "taking up" with Elsa, instead of being content with heralone, as used to be the case. But when she expostulated with Monica,as she did occasionally, the answer she invariably received, was, "I amjust as fond of you as ever, Ollie, you know that quite well; but yousee Elsa _understands_, and you don't _yet_; that's why I must have atalk with her sometimes."

  And Olive, angry with herself for falling short of her friend'sexpectations, but not willing to take the same step as Monica and Elsahad done, felt that the explanation was even worse than the offence!