Hope and Have; or, Fanny Grant Among the Indians: A Story for Young People

by Oliver Optic

  CHAPTER I.

  THE NAUGHTY GIRL.

  "Now you will be a good girl, Fanny Jane, while I am gone--won't you?"said Fanny Grant, who has several times before appeared in thesestories, to Fanny Jane Grant, her namesake, who has not before beenpresented to our readers.

  "O, yes, Miss Fanny; I will be ever so good; I won't even look wrong,"replied Fanny Jane, whose snapping black eyes even then beamed withmischief.

  "I am afraid you don't mean what you say," added Miss Fanny,suspiciously.

  "Yes, I do; I mean every word of it, and more too."

  "You make large promises; and I find when you promise most, you performleast."

  "But, certain true as I live, I won't do a single thing this time,"protested Fanny Jane. "Won't you believe me?"

  "You have deceived me so often that I do not know when to trust you."

  "I have turned over a new leaf, and I mean to be just as good as ever Ican be."

  "If you are not good, Fanny Jane, I shall feel very bad when I return.I have done a great deal for you, and I hope you will think of it ifyou are tempted to do wrong during my absence. This time, inparticular, I wish you to behave very well, and not do any mischief.You know what father says about you?"

  "He don't like me," pouted Fanny Jane.

  "When you are good he likes you."

  "He scolds me all the time."

  "He never scolds you; he reproves you when you do wrong, and I am sorryto say that is very often indeed. He says, if you do not behave better,he shall send you back to your uncle at the west."

  "I don't want to go there."

  "But you must, if you do not do better. He would have sent you beforeif I had not interceded for you."

  "Hadn't what?"

  "If I hadn't begged him not to do so."

  "I won't be sent back to my uncle's, any how," replied Fanny Jane,sharply; for the intimations of what might be, roused a spirit ofresentment, rather than of penitence, in her mind.

  "We will not talk about that now, Fanny Jane. We are going to Hudson tospend a week. The strongest objection to our visit was, that you wouldnot behave well while we were gone."

  "O, I will behave well!"

  "We intend to trust you once more. If you disappoint me this time, Ishall not be able to say another word in your favor; and I am quitesure father will send you off to Minnesota just as soon as we getback."

  The carriage was waiting at the door; Bertha was already seated, andFanny, having done all she could to insure the good behavior of thetroublesome young miss who had become her peculiar charge, hastened tojoin her sister, and they were driven away towards the railroadstation.

  In the two tall and elegant ladies, seated in the Woodville familycarriage, our readers would hardly recognize Bertha and Fanny Grant,for eight years have elapsed since they were introduced, as children,to our young friends. Bertha maintains her pure and beautifulcharacter, and is still a blessing to the family, and to theneighborhood in which she resides. Fanny is taller and prettier thanher sister; and, having put away her childish follies, she is quite adignified personage.

  Mighty events had transpired since they were children, and the countrywas entering upon the second year of the great civil war, whichdesolated the sunny South, and carried mourning to almost everyhousehold of the free North. Richard Grant had already distinguishedhimself as a captain in a popular New York regiment, of which the Rev.Ogden Newman, whilom Noddy, was the chaplain.

  Mr. Grant had retired from active business, and had been succeeded byMr. Sherwood, his clerk, who, having a high appreciation of theexcellent character of Bertha, was about to enter into more intimaterelations with his employer and predecessor in business. Bertha was tobecome Mrs. Sherwood in June, and, as Mr. Grant had reluctantlyaccepted a financial mission from the government, which compelled himto visit Europe, it had been arranged that the bridal tour should be atrip across the Atlantic, in which Fanny was to accompany them. If thegeneral conduct of Miss Fanny Jane Grant had been sufficientlymeritorious to warrant the extending of the privilege to her, doubtlessshe also would have been one of the party, for she had been for twoyears a member of the family.

  Fanny Jane was a distant relative of the Grants of Woodville. Mr.Grant had two cousins, John and Edward, the latter of whom--the fatherof the wayward girl--had died three years previous to her introductionto the reader. At the time of his decease, he was in the employ of thewealthy broker, as a travelling agent. Just before his death, whichoccurred in a western city, while conscious that his end was near, hehad written a letter to Mr. Grant, begging him to see that his onlychild was properly cared for when he could no longer watch over her.

  Edward Grant's wife had been dead several years. At her decease FannyJane had been committed to the care of her father's brother, thenresiding in Illinois. Mr. Grant, impressed by the solemn duty intrustedto him by his deceased cousin, promptly wrote to the child's uncle, whowas dependent upon his own exertions for his daily bread, offering anyassistance which the orphan might need; but no demand was made uponhim.

  A year after the father's death, Mr. Grant's business affairs requiredhim to visit the west, and he improved the opportunity to satisfyhimself that the charge committed to him by the dying father was wellcared for. On his arrival he was not pleased with the relationssubsisting between Fanny Jane and her aunt. Mrs. Grant declared thatthe child was stubborn, wilful, and disobedient, needing frequent andsevere punishment. On the other hand, Fanny said that her aunt abusedher; worked her "almost to death;" did not give her good things to eat,and whipped her when she "did not do anything."

  Mr. Grant was a prudent and judicious man. He conversed with each partyalone, and, being then in doubt, he consulted the uncle. John Grant'stestimony, in the main, confirmed that of his wife, though he waswilling to confess that the aunt "might have been a little hard on thechild." Mr. Grant was far from satisfied; he thought it more thanprobable that Fanny was wilful, but he could not endure to think of herbeing abused. The sacred duty imposed upon him could not be trifledwith, and, as the only method by which he could meet the demands of hisconscience, he decided to take the orphan to Woodville with him.

  The uncle and the aunt, who had no children of their own, objected tothis procedure, both because they did not wish to part with the child,and because her withdrawal from their care implied a condemnation oftheir former treatment of the orphan. Mr. Grant, however, succeeded inovercoming both of these objections, and they consented that Fannyshould remain at Woodville for two years; Mrs. Grant assuring thebenevolent broker that he would be glad to get rid of her in less thansix months.

  Fanny had behaved so well during the stay of Mr. Grant at her uncle'shouse, that he was completely deceived in regard to her real character.The presence of so important a person as the wealthy broker, who hadbeen represented to her as a person hardly less dignified than thePresident of the United States, had overawed her, and put her on herbest behavior. Her kind friend, therefore, was unable to realize thatthe orphan girl was half so bad as she was described to be by her aunt.

  Edward Grant, while in the employ of the broker, had often visitedWoodville, and being especially pleased with the person and the mannersof Miss Fanny, had named his own daughter after her. On the arrival ofthe orphan at her new home, it was deemed fitting that Miss Fannyshould have the especial care of her namesake, then only ten years ofage. Fanny Jane, amid the novelties of the great house, and thebeautiful grounds, was so much occupied for a few weeks that shebehaved very well; but when she grew weary of horses and boats, houseand grounds, she astonished her young mistress by conduct so outrageousthat Miss Fanny wept in despair over the miserable failure she made ingoverning her charge.

  Miss Bertha was called in to assist in taming the refractory subject;but it was soon found that Fanny Jane had none of the chivalrousreverence which had rendered the wild Noddy Newman tolerably tractable,and her failure was as complete and ignominious as that of her sister.Mr. Grant was finally appealed to; and the sternness and s
everity towhich he was compelled to resort were, for a time, effectual. But eventhese measures began to be impotent, and the broker realized that theuncle and aunt had understood the case better than himself.

  As a last resort, he threatened to send the wayward girl back to heruncle, who had now removed to Minnesota; for it would be better forsuch a child to put her down to hard work, and to keep her constantlyunder the eye of her guardians. This threat was more efficient than allthe other means which had been used to keep the child within the boundsof common decency; but even this had grown stale upon her.

  Miss Fanny, finding that her failure involved no disgrace, renewed herexertions to reform her pupil and charge. With the utmost diligence sheinstructed her in her moral and religious duties, and endeavored bylove and gentleness to win her from the error of her ways. Sometimesshe felt that there was much to encourage her, at other times shedespaired of ever making any impression upon her pupil. Her fatherinduced her to persevere, for he had hope. He remembered what EdwardGrant, her father, had been when a child; that he was accounted theworst and most hopeless boy in the town where he resided; but in spiteof this unpromising beginning, he had become a very worthy andrespectable man. Such a change might in due time come over thedaughter, and Mr. Grant frequently impressed upon Fanny the necessityof perseverance, and of remitting no effort to reach her pupil's moraland spiritual nature.

  If Miss Fanny did not improve her pupil, she did improve herself, forthe more of love and truth we impart to others, the more we have forourselves; making the very pretty moral paradox, that the more of loveand truth we subtract from our store, the more we have left in our ownheart.

  Fanny Jane was undoubtedly a very naughty girl. We do not mean to saythat she was merely rude and unlady-like in her manners; that she wasoccasionally angry without a just cause; that she had a few bad habits,and a few venial faults: she was impudent to her benefactors; she wasuntruthful, and even dishonest. Not only to Fanny and Bertha, but alsoto Mr. Grant, she was openly defiant. She used bad language, toldfalsehoods by wholesale, and had several times been detected instealing valuable articles from the house.

  Yet with all her faults and failings, there were some good traits inFanny Jane, though they seemed like the two grains of wheat in thebushel of chaff. What these redeeming features of her character were,we shall let our story disclose. One meeting the wayward girl on thelawn for a moment, or spending a few hours in the house with her, wouldhave been deceived, as Mr. Grant had been, for her black eyes were fullof animation; her manner was spirited, and her answers were quick andsharp. She was light and rather graceful in form; she did not appear towalk; she flashed about like a meteor. She was bold and daring in herflights, and as strong as most boys of her years. She would not runaway from a rude boy; she laughed in the thunder storm, and did notfear to go through the glen at midnight.

  Bertha and Fanny had gone up to Hudson to spend a few days with thefamily of Mr. Sherwood's father, previous to their departure forEurope. This visit had been talked about for a fortnight, and thewayward girl knew that it was to take place. Contrary to her usualcustom, she made the fairest of promises to her kind mistress, who,from this very readiness, suspected her sincerity; and her fears weremore than realized.

  Fanny Jane stood at the open door gazing at the carriage until itdisappeared beyond the hill. Her black eyes snapped under the stimulusof certain exciting thoughts which agitated her mind. When the carriagecould no longer be seen, she slammed the front door, and bounded like agazelle across the entry to the library of Mr. Grant, which sheentered, closing the door behind her.

  "O, yes! I'll be good!" laughed she; "I'm always good! Send me to myuncle's? I should like to see them do it! I won't go! There are not menand women enough at Woodville to make me go!"

  Then she bounded to the windows in the library, one after another, andlooked out at each. She closed the inner blinds of one, before whichthe gardener was at work on the lawn.

  "I can do as Miss Berty did, if worse comes to worst," said she,throwing herself into a great armchair. "She went to live out, and hadher own way, and I can do the same; but I won't be as poor as she was.Ha, ha, ha! I know their secrets," she continued, as she crawled underthe desk, in the middle of the room, and pushing the middle drawer out,took from a nail behind it a key. "They needn't think to cheat me."

  She sprang to her feet again with the key in her hand, laughing withdelight at her own cunning.