Claribel or, Rest at last
they were vexations for another and took her attention from her own
troubles. While she was fretting over her friend's indifference and
carelessness of reproof, she forgot to look out for affronts and
slights to herself.
But Fanny's good qualities did Claribel more service than her bad ones.
Fanny was so good-natured, so self-sacrificing, so ready to put aside
her own convenience or pleasures for the sake of others, that Claribel
could not, for very shame, keep on expecting everybody to give way to
her as she had done. When Fanny stayed at home from a boat ride to
amuse one of the little girls who was sick, Claribel was ashamed to
select for herself and keep the very best seat,—a thing she would have
done as a matter of course when she first came to school; and so it was
in other things.
And on the other side, when Claribel was so prompt in learning her
lessons, and so careful in keeping her things in order, Fanny did not
like to annoy her friend by carelessness and disorder. So each improved
by association with the other.
One day when Claribel was alone in her room working very hard at her
French, Rebecca Stiney came in. Rebecca was no great favourite with her
schoolmates, though no one could exactly tell the reason, except that
she was always complaining and finding fault with the school. Claribel
looked up in some displeasure as Rebecca entered, for she had put up
her "engaged" card on the door, which should have secured her from any
intrusion.
"Isn't the card on the door?" said she. "I asked Fanny to put it up
when she went out."
"I didn't see any card on the door," said Rebecca. This was true. The
card had blown down from the door and lay on the floor beside it, but
with its face up, and Rebecca knew very well where it belonged. "Of
course I shouldn't have come in, if I had seen it. But, Claribel, I
want you to do me a favour if you will."
"I will, if I can," said Claribel, mindful of her promise to Mr.
Hausen. "What is it?"
Rebecca closed the door after her, and coming close to Claribel as
she sat at the table, said in a half whisper, "I want you to write my
composition for me."
"To write your composition for you!" Claribel paused, amazed at the
audacity of the proposition.
"Yes. It is only for once. I haven't had time to touch it yet, and
I want a good one, because we are to have company this week. Why,
Claribel, you needn't look so wonderfully innocent and astonished.
Everybody knows that, you help Fanny, and why shouldn't you help me?"
"Everybody knows that I help Fanny write her compositions!" repeated
Claribel. "What do you mean?"
"Well, Fanny herself says so, and all the girls believe it. And why
shouldn't you? Dear me! It is a very common thing, and nobody cares, so
long as it is not found out."
"Do you mean to tell me that Fanny says that I write her compositions
for her, and that the girls believe it?" asked Claribel.
"Well, perhaps she didn't exactly say so in so many words," replied
Rebecca, qualifying a little, "but she certainly did let it be
understood; and everybody thinks so, because Fanny's compositions are
so much better than they used to be. And I don't see why you shouldn't
help me as well as Fanny Morey. Come, do, Claribel, just this once.
There won't be any harm in it, and you can write so easily."
"If there is no harm in it, I suppose you would have no objection to
my asking Mrs. Richardson's permission," said Claribel. "If she is
willing, I will do it for you this afternoon."
"What nonsense!" said Rebecca, peevishly. "Of course I can't do that.
I never heard anything so absurd. Just as though one wanted to tell
everything that one does!"
"But, Rebecca, if I write your composition, and then you pretend it is
yours, that will be a lie, and you know what Mr. Hausen said yesterday
about liars. It is in the Bible, too, for Fanny and I found the text
last night."
Rebecca writhed uneasily in her chair:
"Oh, well, of course; a great many things are in the Bible that we
ought to mind more than we do. But then it, is only for once, and
I thought you would be obliging enough. Come, do, Claribel; I will
never tell. And I am sure it is in the Bible that we ought to help one
another. You and Percy and all the girls help little Maud, and why
shouldn't you do as much for me? And all the girls think you write
Fanny's compositions and exercises, and Fanny lets them think so; and
where is the harm? Come, do, Claribel, please."
Claribel paused, hardly knowing what to say or think for a moment.
Then, as she remembered Mr. Hausen's remarks the day before, she
answered, decidedly,—
"No, Rebecca, I can't. I am sure it wouldn't be right for me to write
you a composition and for you to hand it in as your own. It would be
lying. I'll give you a subject if you like, and that is all I can do."
"Oh, well, just as you please," said Rebecca, sulkily. "Only I don't
see why you can't do as much for me as for Fanny Morey. I don't make
fun of your crutch and your high shoulders, and call you old Dame
Crump."
"Neither does Fanny."
"Oh no, of course not. Did I say she did? I only said I didn't. Well,
good-bye; I am sure I am much obliged to you for your kindness."
Never since the scene about Bab had Claribel been nearer to a screaming
fit than she was at that moment. A lump rose in her throat, and it
seemed as if her heart swelled to bursting. Fanny would be up directly,
she knew, and she could not meet her. She snatched her hat; and rushing
down stairs and up the garden walk to a secluded spot among the trees,
she threw herself down on the ground and gave way to a tempest of
mingled grief and indignation:
"So this is what comes of trying to help other people—of putting aside
my own taste and my own convenience! This is what comes of trusting to
a friend! Fanny said that I wrote her composition for her, and made fun
of my crutch and my deformity. There is no use in trying to do anything
or be anybody. People are all unkind and selfish and treacherous alike,
and I dislike them all!"
But poor Claribel was not long left to her dangerous mood. A new spirit
was stirring in her, and presently began to make itself heard above the
storm. She had been studying the life of her Lord and praying to be
like him, and that prayer is one which never goes unanswered. Suppose
Fanny had laughed at and misrepresented her? Could she not forgive her
and go on helping her just the same? He had done so toward her. She had
treated him with neglect and ingratitude all her life. To what sin had
she ever been tempted that she had not committed? And yet he had never
forsaken her, never tired of doing her good, and he had led her into
this home where she had so many comforts and so much that was pleasant.
Claribel covered her face and hushed her sobs as like a great flood.
It rushed over her soul for the first time—the wonderful love of God
for her, for all mankind. The love of God was shed abroad in her heart
by his Spirit which he had given her, and all tumult and discord
was hushed in its presence. It was hardly any longer a question of
forgiving Fanny. She was ashamed to think of it, after all that had
been done for her.
As Claribel sat quietly looking out through the trees upon the lake,
she heard a step. And before she could rise, Fanny, with her face all
bathed in tears, came running up the path and threw herself down beside
her, hiding her head on her lap. She sobbed so violently that at first
she could not speak, but presently she found her voice, and exclaimed,—
"Oh, Claribel, you didn't say I was a mean, deceitful girl, and that
you never would help me any more as long as you lived, did you? You
never said you wrote all my compositions for me, and I never should
have any lessons only for you?"
"No, of course not," answered Claribel; "I never said such a word. Who
told you so?"
"Rebecca," sobbed Fanny; "she said—"
But Fanny could get no farther, and laid down her head in a fresh burst
of crying.
"There, there I don't cry so. You will make yourself sick," said
Claribel, forgetting her own distress in Fanny's. "Rebecca isn't worth
minding. She told me ever so many things about you, and I dare say they
are just as true as the other. She said you said I helped you with your
lessons and wrote all your compositions for you, and that you laughed
at my crutch and my high shoulders, and made fun of me every way, and I
was just silly enough to believe it."
"It was no such thing!" said Fanny, vehemently. "I did say you helped
me about my lessons, and so you have, because you always will make me
learn them and won't leave me any peace till I do. And I do think I
have written better since I have begun to read books with some sense in
them, and I never should, only to please you."
"I wonder whether the other girls think so?" said Claribel. "There go
Percy and Eva; I mean to ask them."
And Claribel called the two girls and told them the story.
The girls looked at each other.
"Well, Claribel, I shouldn't wonder if some of them did think so,
because Fanny has improved so much," said Eva. "But, dear me! Thee
needn't mind a bit if they do."
"But I do mind," said Claribel; "I mind very much. Mr. Hausen made me
promise to help everybody I could, and I am sure I like to do it, but
there is not much comfort in it if one is to be accused of such things."
"Oh, Claribel," said Percy, "you mustn't think that. Dear me! If you
are going to leave off helping people every time anybody accuses you of
doing wrong! You ought to hear how they talk about my aunt. She just
runs after poor people all day long. She fixed up a room in the widows'
home for old Mrs. Stokes, and fitted her all up with nice clothes, and
the old woman told everybody that my aunt spent all her money for her
ownself, and gave her nothing but old rags. And she hadn't a single
cent of her own, only five dollars that aunt laid out in a shawl which
the old woman wanted."
"And did your aunt do anything for her after that?"
"Oh yes; she said it was only Mrs. Stokes. And people are always saying
that the ladies who work for the asylums and for missionaries, and so
on, do it just to make a figure and have people talk about them. There
is no use in caring."
"Well, anyway, it was mean in Rebecca to tell such stories," said
Fanny. "See if I don't give her a piece of my mind the next time I see
her!"
"Now, Fanny, if thee will be advised, thee will keep thy mind to
thyself," said Eva. "It won't do any good. If thee says ever so much
to Rebecca, she won't care, and she will contrive to get out of it.
She will say that if Claribel didn't say so in words, she gave her that
impression."
"Yes, we all know about Becky's impressions," said Percy. "But it was
rather cool than otherwise to ask Claribel out and out to write her
composition for her."
"Well, anyhow, I think it is mean in the girls to suppose I would do
such a thing as to steal mine," said Fanny.
"So it is, and I don't wonder thee feels it; but I wouldn't let it
make me unhappy," said Eva. "Just keep on doing thy best, and it will
all come out right. And whatever thee does, Claribel, don't leave off
trying to help people. Thee knows," added Eva, in a low voice—"thee
knows who it was that went about doing good and healing all the sick
folks, though his own friends didn't believe on him and his countrymen
said he was helped by the prince of the devils."
"Yes, but we can't be like him," said Fanny.
"It is certainly our duty to try to be like him," answered Claribel.
CHAPTER VI.
_PRISCILLA._
EVA was right about Rebecca. When Fanny attacked her on the subject,
which she did in presence of several of the girls, Rebecca drew back
and qualified, and didn't "exactly mean to say that Fanny really said