Claribel or, Rest at last

If you are good now, I will hear you this afternoon." Madge went away very downcast, but presently came back triumphant. "You needn't hear my lesson, if you don't want to, old Mother Bunch," said she, pertly. "Priscilla has heard it, and she says she will hear me whenever I like." Claribel was very angry and very much perplexed. Here was a new instance of Priscilla's interference, and what was she to do about it? It was clearly impossible for her to manage Madge unless she could have the child to herself. She considered the matter a little, and then went to Priscilla's room. There was no card on the door, and she knocked once and again. There was no answer, but a sort of scuffling within, and presently Priscilla opened the door. Fanny and Rebecca were sitting in the room, each with a lesson-book before her, and Priscilla's desk stood open, with her exercise-book upon it. "Priscilla," Claribel began, "I want to speak to you about Madge. I wish you would not interfere between her and me." "What have I done?" asked Priscilla. "I only heard her her lesson." "That is just the thing," said Claribel. "I told her I should not hear her because she was naughty, and presently she comes and tells me that you have heard her her lesson and will hear it again. I would rather you did not have anything to do with them, if you please." "Oh, Claribel, how you do make mountains out of molehills! Madge asked me to hear her her lesson, and I did, and then she asked me to hear it again, and I said I would if I were not busy. Where was the harm in that?" "The harm was that I did not hear her her lesson because she was naughty," said Claribel; "you must see yourself, Priscilla—" "Well, there I don't say any more," interrupted Priscilla, affecting a soothing tone, as she saw Mrs. Richardson approaching. "I am sure I didn't mean any harm; only when I found Madge crying and feeling so unhappy, I did what I could to comfort her. I am sure I did not mean to hurt your feelings, Claribel. Please don't be angry, and don't punish Madge, for it was all my doing." "Punish Madge!" said Mrs. Richardson. "Who is talking about punishing Madge?" "Oh, it wasn't anything," said Priscilla; "only I found Madge crying because Claribel punished her, and I tried to comfort her, and Claribel thinks I am very much to blame." "What was the story, Claribel?" asked Mrs. Richardson, turning to her. Now, six months before Claribel would have flown into a rage, poured out a furious vindication of herself, and ended by a screaming fit, and this was what Priscilla calculated upon when she drew on her cousin the notice of Mrs. Richardson. But she reckoned without her host. Claribel waited an instant to collect her ideas, and then said, composedly,— "Madge was very naughty all the morning. She would not be dressed, and she ran out in the hot sun; so I told her I should not hear her her spelling-lesson. Then she went away, and presently came back, telling me that Priscilla had heard her lesson and had promised to hear it again, so she did not care for me. Then I came and asked Priscilla not to interfere with Madge, because I didn't see how I was to do anything with her if she did. That was all." "You were quite right," said Mrs. Richardson; "neither Priscilla nor any one else must interfere with Madge's lessons." "I am sure I did not mean any harm," said Priscilla. "I don't say you did," replied Mrs. Richardson, with a keen glance at Priscilla. "I don't pretend to decide whether you meant to annoy and embarrass Claribel or only to help Madge; but whatever might be your motive, don't let the thing happen again. Fanny and Rebecca, why are you here instead of in your own rooms?" Fanny murmured something about studying the lesson with Priscilla. "I think you had better study in your own place, and see whether your lessons will not prosper better than they have done lately," said Mrs. Richardson. "Priscilla's room is none too large for herself. Go to your own rooms: and, Claribel, send Madge to me." The two girls obeyed with anything but a good grace, and Fanny would hardly speak to Claribel all the morning. But for once her lessons were well learned and perfectly recited. "There is something going very much amiss with those girls," said Miss Foster to Mrs. Richardson as they were talking over school matters. "Fanny is going down hill very decidedly. She never cares to take a book from the library now, and she seems to have no interest whatever in her lessons. She used to do remarkably well in Bible class, but now she never has her lessons properly prepared. The very expression of her face is altered." "I am quite certain that something is wrong, and I am pretty sure that I know what that something is," said Mrs. Richardson; "but I am waiting to get the clue into my hands, and I think I shall. But if Fanny has changed in one way, Claribel has altered in another." "Yes, indeed; I never saw such an improvement in so short a time. She is really growing pretty, and her recitations, especially her Bible lessons, are quite remarkable. And how kind she is to Madge!" CHAPTER VIII. _YELLOW COVERS._ MADGE spent the rest of the day in Mrs. Richardson's room, and came back very penitent and humble. When Claribel put her to bed, Madge seemed very full of thought, and at last she said, throwing her arms around her friend's neck and hugging her,— "Claribel, you will love me if I am naughty sometimes, won't you?" "Yes," said Claribel, returning the kiss; "but, Madge, you make me very unhappy when you are naughty, just because I do love you. Besides, if you are not good and don't take pains to improve, Mrs. Richardson will perhaps think it is all my fault, and then she won't let you stay with me." "I don't believe she will," said Madge; "she will know that it is my very own naughtiness. But I will try to be good, and I will never call you 'Mother Bunch' again if Priscilla tells me to ever so many times." "I don't think I would, because it isn't like a Christian to call names," said Claribel; "and you know, Madge, I cannot help my looks." "I don't want you to help them," said Madge; "I like you just as you are." She was silent a few minutes, and Claribel thought she was asleep, and was going to leave her, when Madge put out her hand to detain her. "Please don't go away," said she; "I am afraid." "Oh no," said Claribel; "what are you afraid of?" "I am afraid because I have been naughty, and because—Claribel, if Priscilla told me not to tell, ought I to tell?" Claribel hesitated: "Did you promise not to tell, Madge?" "No, I didn't promise exactly: but—Claribel, why do Priscilla and Fanny read books and hide them away when anybody comes?" "They read books to learn lessons and to amuse themselves, I suppose," said Claribel. "Everybody gets books out of the library, you know." "These are not library books," said Madge. "They are thin books with yellow and brown covers, and pictures in them, and Priscilla puts them under the bed when anybody comes. She said some of them were yours." "You must be mistaken, dear," said Claribel; "I haven't any such books. There! Lie down and go to sleep." "I can't," said Madge; "I don't feel well. I wish Fanny would sleep in my bed and let me sleep with you." "I will ask her," said Claribel; "but, Madge, what is the matter, that you don't feel well? Have you been eating anything?" "Only a lemon and some chocolate-drops that Priscilla gave me," said Madge, unwillingly. "Oh, Madge, that was naughty, when you know such things always make you sick," said Claribel. "But never mind now; I will put you in my bed, and perhaps you will go to sleep." But sleep there was none for either Madge or Claribel that night. The poor child was taken very ill about midnight, and continued so for three or four days. She was quite sure she was going to die. "I shouldn't so much mind dying," sobbed Madge—"I always did want to know how the people get out of their graves and go to heaven: but I have been so naughty, I am afraid the angels won't come after me." There really seemed some danger that Madge would die. But after a few days she grew better, and was able to sit up and amuse herself with her dolls and animals. Claribel had been unwearied in her attendance upon the child, who would hardly take either food or medicine from anybody else. Fanny, meantime, slept in the little room, which had a door opening out into the hall. Fanny had been more like her old self since Madge's illness than for a long time before. She learned her lessons in her own room, and was very attentive in waiting upon and amusing Madge and relieving Claribel. Claribel was delighted with the change, and began to hope that the old times were coming back again: but she was disappointed. Once more Fanny began to slip away to Priscilla's room at every opportunity. Her lessons were again neglected, and to Claribel's gentle remonstrances, she answered with either sullen silence or with floods of tears; declaring on one occasion that she was the wickedest and most miserable girl in the world, and she wished she was dead. "But, Fanny dear, if you know you are wicked, why don't you try to be good?" Claribel ventured to ask. "Because I can't," said Fanny, passionately; "I have tried, and it isn't one bit of use." "Perhaps you didn't try in the right way." Fanny knew this very well. She had not tried in the right way and with her whole heart. She knew what she ought to do, but she could not make up her mind to it, and so she went on stealing a guilty pleasure, ashamed and miserable and in constant fear of detection. It was the custom of the school for all the boarders to assemble in one of the large rooms from eight to nine o'clock in the evening, and occupy themselves with some kind of needlework, while one of the teachers read aloud some interesting and amusing book. "Reading-hour" was one of the pleasantest parts of the day at Round Springs. One evening, as they were gathered together, listening with great interest to a new book of travels, Mrs. Richardson entered the room followed by Mr. Hausen. "You may suspend the reading a little while, Miss Foster," said Mr. Hausen. The girls looked at each other, wondering what was coming. "I have found this book lying out under the tree in the grove," said he, holding up a thick, yellow-covered paper book with some tremendous pictures on the cover. "John Warner, the gardener, tells me that he saw one of the young ladies reading it in that place, but he does not know who it was. The book is one unfit to be touched, much less read, by any young lady, but it may have fallen into somebody's hands by accident, or have been left where it was found by one of the servants. I hope, if any of you have had it, you will tell the truth about it." There was a dead silence, but Claribel felt her cheeks burn. She had seen the book before, but not lately. "Remember that suspicion must rest upon everybody unless we can get at the truth," said Mr. Hausen. "The book is my cousin Claribel's," said Priscilla. Every one looked at Claribel, who sat still and looked at the floor. "What do you say, Claribel?" asked Mr. "Is this book yours?" "I believe it is, Mr. Hausen," said Claribel. "I had such a book once. I bought it on the cars one day last spring before I came here, but I never read more than a few pages of it. Then I threw it away in the garret at my aunt's, and I have never seen it since. I don't know how it should have come here." "You are sure you did not bring it with you?" "Quite sure; I never saw it again after I put it away in the garret. I thought it was not a good book, and very silly, besides."