Claribel or, Rest at last

thought of such a thing; did we, girls?" "Of course not," said Tilly, bluntly; "what is there to stare at?" If Tilly had thought for a week, she could not have said anything more to the purpose. Claribel began to feel a little, a very little, ashamed of herself. "Well, perhaps you didn't," said she, in a somewhat more gracious tone, "but I am such an object I always think people want to look at me." "I don't see that you are an object at all," said Tilly; "and if you were, why should we stare at you? It isn't your fault that you are lame, I suppose. If you are only good-natured and nice, nobody will care whether you are lame or not." "Oh yes, it is easy to say that. It is easy to be good-natured when you are well and everything goes just to suit you; wait till your turn comes. As for people liking me, I don't expect them to." "It would be rather unreasonable if you did, I think," thought Emma Hausen, but for a wonder she did not say so. The girls arranged the table neatly, and then, bidding Claribel good evening, went away. When Claribel was left alone with the provisions the girls had brought, she discovered that she was hungry, and made a hearty meal. She could not help feeling a little vexed and ashamed at her conduct. "I wish I hadn't spoken so," she said to herself; "but, after all, I dare say it was true. They just wanted to show themselves off and to make believe they were good, and they contrived to get the first look at me, so as to tell the others." "Well," said Emma Hausen, when the door was shut, "I don't think I shall ever take much pains to be polite to her. Did you ever see anything like her in all your life?" "I don't envy Miss Reynolds and Mrs. Richardson," said Tilly. "Percy, I do think you are just as sweet as an angel to answer her so, when she was rude to you." "I remembered how I felt when I first came here," answered Percy; "I was as frightened as if I had been going into a cage of wild animals." "You didn't behave like that," said Tilly; "you acted as if you were scared half to death if any one spoke to you, but you were always polite. I never saw such a specimen as this in all my days." "Nor I, but I can't help feeling sorry for her," remarked Percy. "Just think if any of us were like her! I dare say we should be as cross as she is." "I am sure dear Miss Baldwin never was so cross," said Emma, alluding to a favourite teacher who had died a short time before. "Just think how unfortunate she was! And nobody could ever be sweeter." "Miss Baldwin never seemed to think about herself at all," observed Percy; "she was always too busy caring for other people. But there come the girls from boating, and there is the first tea-bell. Girls, don't let us say anything about this poor Claribel to the others. Perhaps she will feel differently tomorrow, and we won't give her a bad character beforehand." CHAPTER III. _BAB._ THE next day being Saturday, there were no lessons to do, and Mrs. Richardson advised Claribel to spend the morning in unpacking and arranging her clothes. "I shall not unpack my clothes," said Claribel, sullenly; "I am not going to stay here." "Oh yes," said Mrs. Richardson, soothingly, but apparently not in the least alarmed; "this will be your home for the present. I hope you will find it a pleasant one, but of course that must depend very much on yourself. I shall expect you to put your clothes in order; or if you do not feel able, I will send some one to do it for you. Dress yourself neatly, and be ready for dinner at one. Saturday being a holiday, we dine earlier than on other days." Claribel was a little awed. She had never met any one exactly like Mrs. Richardson. The principal was a small, delicate-looking lady, with fine features and beautiful soft hair, which was quite gray, though she did not look old. She spoke very gently and softly, but there was something in her voice which commanded attention and obedience. Claribel felt that, but she did not like to give up quite yet, so she answered shortly again: "I shall not go down to dinner. I don't want to be stared at by all the girls as if I were a gorilla. If I have got to stay here, I will stay in my own room, whether I have anything to eat or not." "Listen to me, Claribel," said Mrs. Richardson, laying her hand with a light but firm pressure on Claribel's arm; "you have come here to live because it has been thought best by those who have the care of you, and that you may acquire such an education as will make you a useful and happy woman. If you are good and obedient, and take pains to make yourself agreeable, you may be very happy here, as the other girls are; if you are disobedient and sullen, you will make yourself and us a great deal of trouble, and yet you will have to stay all the same. There is no help for that. You need not be afraid that the girls will stare at you or do anything else to annoy you. I don't wonder that you feel sadly about leaving home and coming among strangers, but you will soon feel at home here. Come, now, make up your mind to be pleasant and good, and all will be well. Do you like to read?" "Yes, ma'am," answered Claribel, a little more graciously, for she was won in spite of herself. "I like it very much, but we had hardly any books at home. Priscilla used to buy all sorts of rubbishing novels when she went to Lumber City, but I couldn't bear them." "I am glad to hear you say so," remarked Mrs. Richardson; "we will see if we can't find something you will like. We have a very fine library, and the girls read as much as they please." "Priscilla said you wouldn't have anything but great, heavy, stupid books like Josephus and Rollin," said Claribel; "we had those books at home, but they were in such large volumes and such fine print that I couldn't read them. Once I found part of a beautiful story about a knight and some ladies who were taken prisoner by robbers and carried to a castle, and the castle was set on fire. Oh, it was lovely," said Claribel, warming up—"not a bit like the rubbish Priscilla is always reading; but I never could find any more of it." Mrs. Richardson smiled: "I know the book you mean, and will find it for you in the library; it will come in nicely, for your history class are just at that point in their English history, and they have all been reading this book. Do you think, my dear, that you can unpack your clothes?" "Oh yes, ma'am." "Then I will leave you to yourself till dinner-time, and then send or come for you. Good-bye for the present." Mrs. Richardson kissed Claribel and departed, leaving her in a curious state of mind. She felt herself entirely conquered, and yet she was not sorry to be conquered. Claribel was not at all deficient in strength of mind. She was capable of respect, and she felt that she had found some one worthy to be respected. She was delighted at the prospect of having plenty of books to read, and not displeased at the thought of acquiring a good education. "I wonder if I could take drawing and painting lessons?" she said to herself. "I am sure I could learn to draw. I don't care so very much about music,—only singing,—but I should like to be a great artist and have my pictures admired all over the world. People would respect me then. I don't think I should dislike living here so much, only for the girls. I know they will laugh at me. But then, if I get on with my studies—and I can, I know—I will make them think I am somebody." I once heard it remarked of a very vain man that he dreamed in the first person singular. Claribel certainly thought in the first person singular. She had got into the "contracting chamber" of Mrs. Charles's pretty allegory, and of course it contracted round her more and more. She considered everything and saw everything only as it affected herself. She was in prison—a very small, dark, and narrow prison, indeed—and it remained to be seen whether she was ever to get out of it. Claribel unpacked her clothes and other possessions, feeling a certain pleasure in their freshness and prettiness, for Mr. Steel had thought it best that she should have an entirely new outfit of everything. She even felt a slight twinge of mortification as she took out her pretty writing-desk and dressing-case, and wished she had been a little more gracious to her guardian. Mrs. Richardson herself came up for Claribel at dinner-time, and gave her a seat next herself. Percy and Tilly sat near her and welcomed her with smiles, for they were not disposed to bear any malice against the poor lame, sickly stranger. After dinner, she went to the library, and Miss Foster, the librarian, found her the volume she wanted. "You can sit down and read here, or anywhere else you like," said Mrs. Richardson, "only you must be sure not to leave your book out of place. Carry it to your own room, and next Saturday bring it back here." "But suppose I haven't finished it?" said Claribel. "Oh, then you can take it again; but we wish to keep a register of all the books, so as to learn where they are." "Don't you want to come out on the upper verandah?" asked Percy, who had also come for a book. "It is nice and shady, and there is such a beautiful view." Claribel consented, and got through the afternoon without giving or taking any new offence. "Isn't she queer?" said Percy to Flora after they had separated. "Do you think you shall be friends with her?" "I never saw anybody like her," answered Flora. "She doesn't seem to think anybody but herself is of any consequence at all. Did you see how she went and took Eva's seat the minute she left it? And though Eva came back directly, Claribel never seemed to think of giving it up to her. If I had been Eva, I would have asked for it." "No, you wouldn't," said Percy; "you would have done just as Eva did. But I suppose Claribel has been sick a good deal, and that does make people selfish sometimes—not always, though. Mamma was sick a great deal, and papa used to say she hadn't any self." "Well, we won't judge in too much of a hurry," said Flora, sagely; "I dare say she will improve. I heard Mr. Hausen say she had had very few advantages." For some days, matters went on with tolerable smoothness. Claribel was examined as to her studies, and to her own surprise was put into the same classes as Percy and Flora. This was rather a stretch on the part of the authorities, and Miss Reynolds warned Claribel that she would have to study hard to keep up. But Mr. Hausen thought it better she should do so than that she should be mortified by being classed with girls much younger than herself. Claribel would have resented the consideration if she had known of it, but she never thought of such a thing. She was allowed to begin drawing lessons directly, and showed a talent which surprised and delighted Mrs. Claxton, the teacher. "You will make an artist if you only have perseverance enough," said she, "but you must make up your mind to work hard." "I don't care how hard I work when the work is what I like," answered Claribel. "I dare say. That is the case with most people," said Mrs. Claxton, smiling. "But if you mean to be an artist, you must learn to work hard at what you don't like." One pleasant morning, Claribel was sitting busily studying her history lesson on the landing-place outside her room door. This same landing was rather a special place of attraction for the younger girls. It was broad and roomy. The stairs turned two different ways from it, and there was a low, shady window with a broad seat which was just over the outside door, which opened into the library. It chanced this morning that the wind blew into Claribel's window; and remembering that the