Claribel or, Rest at last
so in so many words, but she certainly got the idea from what she said;
and then, when Claribel first came, Fanny certainly had said that
Claribel walked with a crutch and had high shoulders."
"And what if I did?" demanded Fanny. "I wasn't making fun of them. The
girls asked me how Claribel looked, and I told them, and that was all."
"Becky's stories are like the prince's mantle in the fairy tale," said
Tilly. "She gets a little bit of foundation, and then she stretches it
and stretches it till it is as large as a bedquilt. Never mind, Fanny;
what is the use of caring?"
But Fanny did care, and in one way the caring did her a great deal of
good. She was bent upon showing that her compositions and exercises
were her own, and she worked harder than ever before in her life, and
read such an amount of sensible books that it was quite alarming.
One day Mr. Hausen found her and Claribel engaged with a volume of
Hallam's "Middle Ages."
"Do you like that book?" he asked.
Fanny looked rather dolefully at Claribel, as if to ask her to reply.
"Well, it is a very big book," said Claribel, "and it isn't so
interesting as some, but Doctor Burton said the other day that Hallam
was one of the best historical authors; and then it tells about the
Crusades."
"And there are some nice stories in it," added Fanny. "I like that
about Charlemagne and his learning to write when he was old."
"Don't you think it is a good book for us?" asked Claribel. "Don't you
think we ought to finish it?"
"Finish it, by all means, if you can, but don't feel obliged to do
so," answered Mr. Hausen. "Hallam is a large undertaking for two such
chickens as you and Fanny."
"It is all Claribel's doing," said Fanny. "She is so very sensible, and
I want to be like her, and Miss Reynolds says I never shall be, so long
as I don't read anything except little story-books. And besides," added
Fanny, "one of the girls said we never should finish it if we began,
and so we are bound to go through with it."
"I am afraid your motives are rather mixed, Fanny," said Mr. Hausen,
laughing. "But never mind. Go on with Hallam, by all means; and if
you finish it, you will certainly show that you have the power of
perseverance."
Contrary to Mr. Hausen's expectations, the girls did finish Hallam,
though I cannot say that the learned author left any very strong
impression on their minds, beyond a general feeling that the Middle
Ages were not nice times and they were glad they did not live in them.
At this time, Claribel and Fanny roomed together; and though
Fanny thought Claribel needlessly particular when she objected to
accumulations of shoes and stockings under the bed, and insisted that
the study-table was not the place for the brushes and combs, and though
Claribel sometimes laughed and sometimes scolded a little, yet the two
friends got on together very comfortably and harmoniously.
One day Claribel received a letter from home at which she uttered an
exclamation of dismay.
"What is the matter?" asked Fanny, looking up from her own budget of
news. "Anything wrong?"
"Well, no—at least I ought not to think so. I suppose I am a sinner not
to be glad, but I can't be, the least in the world."
"Can't be glad of what?"
"That my cousin Priscilla is coming here to school."
"Don't you like her?"
Claribel hesitated a moment before replying to Fanny's question:
"Well, no, to tell you the truth, I don't. We were brought up together
till I came here, but we never agreed very well—in fact, we used to
quarrel every day. I dare say it was as much my fault as hers, though I
do think it wasn't, any more."
"And I suppose you will room together, and I shall have to turn out,"
said Fanny.
"No, indeed, not if I can help it," answered Claribel, with energy. "I
would rather have you, a thousand times. Oh dear! I do hope I sha'n't
have to room with Priscilla."
"Well, we won't borrow trouble," said Fanny; "I dare say Mrs.
Richardson will give her your old room just at first. They almost
always do put the new scholars in there, you know."
It turned out that Fanny was right. There had been some consultation
between Mrs. Richardson and Mrs. Herman, the housekeeper, about what
arrangement was to be made. Mrs. Herman supposed the cousins would
naturally like to be together.
"It is a pity to alter the present arrangement, too," she added. "Fanny
is getting a great deal of good out of it."
"I think we won't make any change—at least for the present," said Mrs.
Richardson. "As you say, Fanny is gaining a great deal, and I think
she does quite as much for her room-mate, though in another way. The
new-comer can just as well have the little room and live alone till we
can observe her a little."
Claribel went down to the boat to meet her cousin, and welcomed her
with all due cordiality. She had schooled herself to do so, and really
succeeded in being glad to see Priscilla. But Priscilla felt and
saw that there was a change in Claribel, and decided at once in her
own mind that Claribel was proud and felt above her, and that she,
Priscilla Westcott, was not going to be put down or patronized, either,
if she wasn't an heiress. She had not been in the house ten minutes
before she succeeded in showing Claribel that she had brought some of
the old home atmosphere with her.
"What a miserable little stuck-up room!" she observed as Claribel
introduced her to "21," which she and Fanny had taken great pains to
make pleasant and attractive looking. "And what a little narrow bed! I
thought you said the rooms were so wonderfully nice?"
"Well, I think they are nice, though they are plain, of course,"
said Claribel, feeling annoyed, but determined not to show it. "The
bed is wide enough for one, I am sure, and here is a nice bureau and
writing-table, you see, and a large closet. I thought this was a dear
little room when I had it."
"Where do you room now?" asked Priscilla.
"Over there where you see that window open and the cat sitting in it,"
answered Claribel, pointing to her own window, where Bab was dozing
in the sun, for he had always remained constant to his allegiance to
Claribel. "Fanny and I wanted to live together, so Mrs. Richardson gave
us that room, though new-comers are usually put in this one. There is
another inside of it where little Madge sleeps, now that Miss Emerson
is away. Generally, we have it for a closet."
"And how do you get on in school?" asked Priscilla, presently. "I
suppose the rules are very strict?"
"Oh no; there are not many rules. We can't go out in the street without
asking, and we have to go to bed and get up at just such times, and to
observe the hour of silence, and keep our clothes mended and our rooms
nice. Those are all the rules I can think of—only, of course, we have
to learn our lessons and do as we are told."
"And do the girls dress much? I have got ten new dresses," said
Priscilla, in a tone of exultation. "I told ma she must let me have
everything new, for I wasn't going to be looked down on or despised by
anybody."
"You needn't have minded about that," said Claribel. "The girls dress
very plainly, and so do the teachers."
"Well, I sha'n't; I have got my new things, and I am going to wear
them. They were all made at Miss Smith's, and I picked out the patterns
in the fashion-book myself."
And Priscilla dived into her trunk and produced one suit after another,
all in the extreme of fashion, as fashion was understood in Smithopolis.
"But haven't you any school-dress?" asked Claribel, rather alarmed.
"You won't wear these dresses in school, will you?"
"Of course I shall. Why not?"
Claribel thought Priscilla would probably find out the why not for
herself in a little while, and she changed the conversation by
inquiring after one and another of her old acquaintances. Priscilla
answered carelessly enough, and again recurred to her dresses, showing
them off and expatiating on their elegance and their cost.
"And what do you study?" she asked, presently.
"History and higher arithmetic and French, besides my drawing."
"I am going to take all the extras," said Priscilla—"music and drawing
and French and German, and everything. Mother said I ought to learn
arithmetic and grammar, but I guess I didn't come to boarding-school
all the way out here to study common school-books."
"But you can't, Priscilla," said Claribel. "Nobody is allowed to have
more than three studies besides music or drawing. And you will have to
study grammar, because all the classes do, except the senior. If you
have music and drawing, you can only have two studies besides."
"I guess I can have what I am able to pay for," said Priscilla;
"besides, I don't mean to take drawing, but oil-painting. I want some
pictures to take home with me."
"But how can you paint without knowing how to draw?" asked Claribel,
bewildered.
"Just as every one else does. Sarah Annie Willcox painted some splendid
pictures at Galesville seminary, and she never touched a pencil nor
paint, till she went there."
Claribel concluded that she might as well change the subject:
"Don't you mean to change your dress and brush your hair before tea? I
should think you would want to after coming so far."
"Oh, I only came from The Bridge to-day. However, I suppose I might as
well. What are you going to wear?"
"Just what I have on, only I must go and get an apron. I will call for
you when tea is ready." And Claribel went away, feeling uncomfortable
and vexed, though she hardly knew why, and leaving Priscilla more than
ever convinced that Claribel looked down upon her.
The girls stared and glanced at each other when Priscilla made her
appearance at the tea-table in a furiously gay plaid, flounced and
stuck out and tucked up in every direction, with a gold bracelet on
each wrist and a gold chain round her neck.
Claribel felt uncomfortable and a little ashamed, but she courageously
made the best of the matter, thinking that Priscilla would soon learn
better.
"Well, I never saw such a mean school as this is," said Priscilla one
day after she had been at the school for about a week, and throwing
herself down on Claribel's bed. "If I had known it was such a pokey
kind of place, I am sure I never would have come."
"What's the matter?" asked Fanny Morey. "Please, Priscilla, don't lie
on the bed. It is against rules unless we are sick."
"Who cares?" said Priscilla. "There is nobody here to tell of me."
"I care," said Fanny, decidedly and somewhat angrily. "I don't choose
to break rules, whether I am found out or not. Besides, you had no
business to come in when the card is on the door. I am busy, and I
don't want to be hindered."
"Where's Claribel?"
"Down in the library looking out something in the encyclopædia."
"I suppose you and she are great friends?"
"Yes, we are," answered Fanny, in a tone, which said plainly enough,
"Is that any business of yours?"
"Well, you needn't bite my head off," said Priscilla. "I am sure I am
glad if the poor thing has found anybody to like her. Claribel and I
never could get on together. I suppose I might have given up to her,
and let her patronize me and order me about, just as you do, but it
isn't any use to do that for people, if they are ever so rich. But I
am glad you don't mind, because it is hard for her not to have any
friends."
"Claribel has plenty of friends," said Fanny, flushing a little. "All
the girls like her, and she doesn't order me about or patronize me. I
don't see why you should say so."
At that moment, Claribel entered.
"I can't find anything about it, Fanny," said she; "we shall have to