Wonder, Hope, Love, and Loss

by Gene Stratton-Porter

  As she neared the door her mother reached for the pail. “I forgot to tell you to bring home your scraps for the chickens,” she said.

  Elnora entered. “There weren’t any scraps, and I’m hungry again as I ever was in my life.”

  “I thought likely you would be,” said Mrs. Comstock, “and so I got supper ready. We can eat first, and do the work afterward. What kept you so? I expected you an hour ago.”

  Elnora looked into her mother’s face and smiled. It was a queer sort of a little smile, and would have reached the depths with any normal mother.

  “I see you’ve been bawling,” said Mrs. Comstock. “I thought you’d get your fill in a hurry. That’s why I wouldn’t go to any expense. If we keep out of the poor-house we have to cut the corners close. It’s likely this Brushwood road tax will eat up all we’ve saved in years. Where the land tax is to come from I don’t know. It gets bigger every year. If they are going to dredge the swamp ditch again they’ll just have to take the land to pay for it. I can’t, that’s all! We’ll get up early in the morning and gather and hull the beans for winter, and put in the rest of the day hoeing the turnips.”

  Elnora again smiled that pitiful smile.

  “Do you think I didn’t know that I was funny and would be laughed at?” she asked.

  “Funny?” cried Mrs. Comstock hotly.

  “Yes, funny! A regular caricature,” answered Elnora. “No one else wore calico, not even one other. No one else wore high heavy shoes, not even one. No one else had such a funny little old hat; my hair was not right, my ribbon invisible compared with the others, I did not know where to go, or what to do, and I had no books. What a spectacle I made for them!” Elnora laughed nervously at her own picture. “But there are always two sides! The professor said in the algebra class that he never had a better solution and explanation than mine of the proposition he gave me, which scored one for me in spite of my clothes.”

  “Well, I wouldn’t brag on myself!”

  “That was poor taste,” admitted Elnora. “But, you see, it is a case of whistling to keep up my courage. I honestly could see that I would have looked just as well as the rest of them if I had been dressed as they were. We can’t afford that, so I have to find something else to brace me. It was rather bad, mother!”

  “Well, I’m glad you got enough of it!”

  “Oh, but I haven’t,” hurried in Elnora. “I just got a start. The hardest is over. To-morrow they won’t be surprised. They will know what to expect. I am sorry to hear about the dredge. Is it really going through?”

  “Yes. I got my notification today. The tax will be something enormous. I don’t know as I can spare you, even if you are willing to be a laughing-stock for the town.”

  With every bite Elnora’s courage returned, for she was a healthy young thing.

  “You’ve heard about doing evil that good might come from it,” she said. “Well, mother mine, it’s something like that with me. I’m willing to bear the hard part to pay for what I’ll learn. Already I have selected the ward building in which I shall teach in about four years. I am going to ask for a room with a south exposure so that the flowers and moths I take in from the swamp to show the children will do well.”

  “You little idiot!” said Mrs. Comstock. “How are you going to pay your expenses?”

  “Now that is just what I was going to ask you!” said Elnora. “You see, I have had two startling pieces of news to-day. I did not know I would need any money. I thought the city furnished the books, and there is an out-of-town tuition, also. I need ten dollars in the morning. Will you please let me have it?”

  “Ten dollars!” cried Mrs. Comstock. “Ten dollars! Why don’t you say a hundred and be done with it! I could get one as easy as the other. I told you! I told you I couldn’t raise a cent. Every year expenses grow bigger and bigger. I told you not to ask for money!”

  “I never meant to,” replied Elnora. “I thought clothes were all I needed and I could bear them. I never knew about buying books and tuition.”

  “Well, I did!” said Mrs. Comstock. “I knew what you would run into! But you are so bull-dog stubborn, and so set in your way, I thought I would just let you try the world a little and see how you liked it!”

  Elnora pushed back her chair and looked at her mother.

  “Do you mean to say,” she demanded, “that you knew, when you let me go into a city classroom and reveal the fact before all of them that I expected to have my books handed out to me; do you mean to say that you knew I had to pay for them?”

  Mrs. Comstock evaded the direct question.

  “Anybody but an idiot mooning over a book or wasting time prowling the woods would have known you had to pay. Everybody has to pay for everything. Life is made up of pay, pay, pay! It’s always and forever pay! If you don’t pay one way you do another! Of course, I knew you had to pay. Of course, I knew you would come home blubbering! But you don’t get a penny! I haven’t one cent, and can’t get one! Have your way if you are determined, but I think you will find the road somewhat rocky.”

  “Swampy, you mean, mother,” corrected Elnora. She arose white and trembling. “Perhaps some day God will teach me how to understand you. He knows I do not now. You can’t possibly realize just what you let me go through to-day, or how you let me go, but I’ll tell you this: You understand enough that if you had the money, and would offer it to me, I wouldn’t touch it now. And I’ll tell you this much more. I’ll get it myself. I’ll raise it, and do it some honest way. I am going back to-morrow, the next day, and the next. You need not come out, I’ll do the night work, and hoe the turnips.”

  It was ten o’clock when the chickens, pigs, and cattle were fed, the turnips hoed, and a heap of bean vines was stacked beside the back door.

  Chapter 2

  Wherein Wesley and Margaret Go Shopping, and Elnora’s Wardrobe Is Replenished

  Wesley Sinton walked down the road half a mile and turned at the lane leading to his home. His heart was hot and filled with indignation. He had told Elnora he did not blame her mother, but he did. His wife met him at the door.

  “Did you see anything of Elnora?” she questioned.

  “Most too much, Maggie,” he answered. “What do you say to going to town? There’s a few things has to be got right away.”

  “Where did you see her, Wesley?”

  “Along the old Limberlost trail, my girl, torn to pieces sobbing. Her courage always has been fine, but the thing she met to-day was too much for her. We ought to have known better than to let her go that way. It wasn’t only clothes; there were books, and entrance fees for out-of-town people, that she didn’t know about; while there must have been jeers, whispers, and laughing. Maggie, I feel as if I’d been a traitor to those girls of ours. I ought to have gone in and seen about this school business. Don’t cry, Maggie. Get me some supper, and I’ll hitch up and see what we can do now.”

  “What can we do, Wesley?”

  “I don’t just know. But we’ve got to do something. Kate Comstock will be a handful, while Elnora will be two, but between us we must see that the girl is not too hard pressed about money, and that she is dressed so she is not ridiculous. She’s saved us the wages of a woman many a day, can’t you make her some decent dresses?”

  “Well, I’m not just what you call expert, but I could beat Kate Comstock all to pieces. I know that skirts should be pleated to the band instead of gathered, and full enough to sit in, and short enough to walk in. I could try. There are patterns for sale. Let’s go right away, Wesley.”

  “Set me a bit of supper, while I hitch up.”

  Margaret built a fire, made coffee, and fried ham and eggs. She set out pie and cake and had enough for a hungry man by the time the carriage was at the door, but she had no appetite. She dressed while Wesley ate, put away the food while he dressed, and then they drove toward the city through the beautiful September evening, and as they went they planned for Elnora. The trouble was, not whether they were generous enough to buy wh
at she needed, but whether she would accept their purchases, and what her mother would say.

  They went to a drygoods store and when a clerk asked what they wanted to see neither of them knew, so they stepped aside and held a whispered consultation.

  “What had we better get, Wesley?”

  “Dresses,” said Wesley promptly,

  “But how many dresses, and what kind?”

  “Blest if I know!” exclaimed Wesley. “I thought you would manage that. I know about some things I’m going to get.”

  At that instant several high school girls came into the store and approached them.

  “There!” exclaimed Wesley breathlessly. “There, Maggie! Like them! That’s what she needs! Buy like they have!”

  Margaret stared. What did they wear? They were rapidly passing; they seemed to have so much, and she could not decide so quickly. Before she knew it she was among them.

  “I beg your pardon, but won’t you wait one minute?” she asked.

  The girls stopped with wondering faces.

  “It’s your clothes,” explained Mrs. Sinton. “You look just beautiful to me. You look exactly as I should have wanted to see my girls. They both died of diphtheria when they were little, but they had yellow hair, dark eyes, and pink cheeks, and everybody thought they were lovely. If they had lived, they’d been near your age now, and I’d want them to look like you.”

  There was sympathy on every girl face.

  “Why thank you!” said one of them. “We are very sorry for you.”

  “Of course you are,” said Margaret. “Everybody always has been. And because I can’t ever have the joy of a mother in thinking for my girls and buying pretty things for them, there is nothing left for me, but to do what I can for some one who has no mother to care for her. I know a girl, who would be just as pretty as any of you, if she had the clothes, but her mother does not think about her, so I mother her some myself.”

  “She must be a lucky girl,” said another.

  “Oh, she loves me,” said Margaret, “and I love her. I want her to look just like you do. Please tell me about your clothes. Are these the dresses and hats you wear to school? What kind of goods are they, and where do you buy them?”

  The girls began to laugh and cluster around Margaret. Wesley strode down the store with his head high through pride in her, but his heart was sore over the memory of two little faces under Brushwood sod. He inquired his way to the shoe department.

  “Why, every one of us have on gingham or linen dresses,” they said, “and they are our school clothes.”

  For a few moments there was a babel of laughing voices explaining to the delighted Margaret that school dresses should be bright and pretty, but simple and plain, and until cold weather they should wash.

  “I’ll tell you,” said Ellen Brownlee, “my father owns this store, I know all the clerks. I’ll take you to Miss Hartley. You tell her just how much you want to spend, and what you want to buy, and she will know how to get the most for your money. I’ve heard papa say she was the best clerk in the store for people who didn’t know precisely what they wanted.”

  “That’s the very thing,” agreed Margaret. “But before you go, tell me about your hair. Elnora’s hair is bright and wavy, but yours is silky as hackled flax. How do you do it?”

  “Elnora?” asked four girls in concert.

  “Yes, Elnora is the name of the girl I want these things for.”

  “Did she come to the high school to-day?” questioned one of them.

  “Was she in your classes?” demanded Margaret without reply.

  Four girls stood silent and thought fast. Had there been a strange girl among them, and had she been overlooked and passed by with indifference, because she was so very shabby? If she had appeared as much better than they, as she had looked worse, would her reception have been the same?

  “There was a strange girl from the country in the Freshman class to-day,” said Ellen Brownlee, “and her name was Elnora.”

  “That was the girl,” said Margaret.

  “Are her people so very poor?” questioned Ellen.

  “No, not poor at all, come to think of it,” answered Margaret. “It’s a peculiar case. Mrs. Comstock had a great trouble and she let it change her whole life and make a different woman of her. She used to be lovely; now she is forever saving and scared to death for fear they will go to the poorhouse; but there is a big farm, covered with lots of good timber. The taxes are high for women who can’t manage to clear and work the land. There ought to be enough to keep two of them in good shape all their lives, if they only knew how to do it. But no one ever told Kate Comstock anything, and never will, for she won’t listen. All she does is droop all day, and walk the edge of the swamp half the night, and neglect Elnora. If you girls would make life just a little easier for her it would be the finest thing you ever did.”

  All of them promised they would.

  “Now tell me about your hair,” persisted Margaret Sinton.

  So they took her to a toilet counter, and she bought the proper hair soap, also a nail file, and cold cream, for use after windy days. Then they left her with the experienced clerk, and when at last Wesley found her she was loaded with bundles and the light of other days was in her beautiful eyes. Wesley also carried some packages.

  “Did you get any stockings?” he whispered.

  “No, I didn’t,” she said. “I was so interested in dresses and hair ribbons and a—a hat—” she hesitated and glanced at Wesley. “Of course, a hat!” prompted Wesley. “That I forgot all about those horrible shoes. She’s got to have decent shoes, Wesley.”

  “Sure!” said Wesley. “She’s got decent shoes. But the man said some brown stockings ought to go with them. Take a peep, will you!”

  Wesley opened a box and displayed a pair of thick-soled, beautifully shaped brown walking shoes of low cut. Margaret cried out with pleasure.

  “But do you suppose they are the right size, Wesley? What did you get?”

  “I just said for a girl of sixteen with a slender foot.”

  “Well, that’s about as near as I could come. If they don’t fit when she tries them, we will drive straight in and change them. Come on now, let’s get home.”

  All the way they discussed how they should give Elnora their purchases and what Mrs. Comstock would say.

  “I am afraid she will be awful mad,” said Margaret.

  “She’ll just rip!” replied Wesley graphically. “But if she wants to leave the raising of her girl to the neighbours, she needn’t get fractious if they take some pride in doing a good job. From now on I calculate Elnora shall go to school; and she shall have all the clothes and books she needs, if I go around on the back of Kate Comstock’s land and cut a tree, or drive off a calf to pay for them. Why I know one tree she owns that would put Elnora in heaven for a year. Just think of it, Margaret! It’s not fair. One-third of what is there belongs to Elnora by law, and if Kate Comstock raises a row I’ll tell her so, and see that the girl gets it. You go to see Kate in the morning, and I’ll go with you. Tell her you want Elnora’s pattern, that you are going to make her a dress, for helping us. And sort of hint at a few more things. If Kate balks, I’ll take a hand and settle her. I’ll go to law for Elnora’s share of that land and sell enough to educate her.”

  “Why, Wesley Sinton, you’re perfectly wild.”

  “I’m not! Did you ever stop to think that such cases are so frequent there have been laws made to provide for them? I can bring it up in court and force Kate to educate Elnora, and board and clothe her till she’s of age, and then she can take her share.”

  “Wesley, Kate would go crazy!”

  “She’s crazy now. The idea of any mother living with as sweet a girl as Elnora and letting her suffer till I find her crying like a funeral. It makes me fighting mad. All uncalled for. Not a grain of sense in it. I’ve offered and offered to oversee clearing her land and working her fields. Let her sell a good tree, or a few acres. Something is going
to be done, right now. Elnora’s been fairly happy up to this, but to spoil the school life she’s planned, is to ruin all her life. I won’t have it! If Elnora won’t take these things, so help me, I’ll tell her what she is worth, and loan her the money and she can pay me back when she comes of age. I am going to have it out with Kate Comstock in the morning. Here we are! You open up what you got while I put away the horses, and then I’ll show you.”

  When Wesley came from the barn Margaret had four pieces of crisp gingham, a pale blue, a pink, a gray with green stripes and a rich brown and blue plaid. On each of them lay a yard and a half of wide ribbon to match. There were handkerchiefs and a brown leather belt. In her hands she held a wide-brimmed tan straw hat, having a high crown banded with velvet strips each of which fastened with a tiny gold buckle.

  “It looks kind of bare now,” she explained. “It had three quills on it here.”

  “Did you have them taken off?” asked Wesley.

  “Yes, I did. The price was two and a half for the hat, and those things were a dollar and a half apiece. I couldn’t pay that.”

  “It does seem considerable,” admitted Wesley, “but will it look right without them?”

  “No, it won’t!” said Margaret. “It’s going to have quills on it. Do you remember those beautiful peacock wing feathers that Phoebe Simms gave me? Three of them go on just where those came off, and nobody will ever know the difference. They match the hat to a moral, and they are just a little longer and richer than the ones that I had taken off. I was wondering whether I better sew them on to-night while I remember how they set, or wait till morning.”

  “Don’t risk it!” exclaimed Wesley anxiously. “Don’t you risk it! Sew them on right now!”

  “Open your bundles, while I get the thread,” said Margaret.

  Wesley unwrapped the shoes. Margaret took them up and pinched the leather and stroked them.