Daisy
The introduction was soon made, and Dr. Sandford bid me good-bye. I
felt as if my best friend was leaving me; the only one I had trusted
in since my father and mother had gone away. I said nothing, but
perhaps my face showed my thought, for he stooped and kissed me.
"Good-bye, Daisy. Remember, I shall expect a letter every fortnight."
He had ordered me before to write to him as often as that, and give
him a minute account of myself; how many studies I was pursuing, how
many hours I gave to them each day, what exercise I took, and what
amusement; and how I throve withal. Mme. Ricard had offered to show me
my room, and we were mounting the long stairs while I thought this
over.
"Is Dr. Sandford your cousin, Miss Randolph?" was the question which
came in upon my thoughts.
"No, ma'am," I answered in extreme surprise.
"Is he any relation to you?"
"He is my guardian."
"I think Dr. Sandford told me that your father and mother are abroad?"
"Yes, ma'am; and Dr. Sandford is my guardian."
We had climbed two flights of stairs, and I was panting. As we went
up, I had noticed a little unusual murmur of noises, which told me I
was in a new world. Little indistinguishable noises, the stir and hum
of the busy hive into which I had entered. Now and then a door had
opened, and a head or a figure came out; but as instantly went back
again on seeing Madame, and the door was softly closed. We reached the
third floor. There a young lady appeared at the further end of the
gallery, and curtseyed to my conductress.
"Miss Bentley," said Madame, "this is your new companion, Miss
Randolph. Will you be so good as to show Miss Randolph her room?"
Madame turned and left us, and the young lady led me into the room she
had just quitted. A large room, light and bright, and pleasantly
furnished; but the one thing that struck my unaccustomed eyes was the
evidence of fulness of occupation. One bed stood opposite the
fireplace; another across the head of that, between it and one of the
windows; a third was between the doors on the inner side of the room.
Moreover, the first and the last of these were furnished with two
pillows each. I did not in the moment use my arithmetic; but the
feeling which instantly pressed upon me was that of want of breath.
"This is the bed prepared for you, I believe," said my companion
civilly, pointing to the third one before the window. "There isn't
room for anybody to turn round here now."
I began mechanically to take off my cap and gloves, looking hard at
the little bed, and wondering what other rights of possession were to
be given me in this place. I saw a washstand in one window and a large
mahogany wardrobe on one side of the fireplace; a dressing table or
chest of drawers between the windows. Everything was handsome and
nice; everything was in the neatest order; but--where were my clothes
to go? Before I had made up my mind to ask, there came a rush into the
room; I supposed, of the other inmates. One was a very large, fat,
dull-faced girl; I should have thought her a young woman, only that
she was here in a school. Another, bright and pretty, and very
good-humoured if there was any truth in her smiling black eyes, was
much slighter and somewhat younger; a year or two in advance of
myself. The third was a girl about my own age, shorter and smaller
than I, with also a pretty face, but an eye that I was not so sure of.
She was the last one to come in, and she immediately stopped and
looked at me; I thought, with no pleasure.
"This is Miss Randolph, girls," said Miss Bentley. "Miss Randolph,
Miss Macy."
I curtseyed to the fat girl, who gave me a little nod.
"I am glad she isn't as big as I am," was her comment on the
introduction. I was glad, too.
"Miss Lansing--"
This was bright-eyes, who bowed and smiled--she always smiled--and
said, "How do you do?" Then rushed off to a drawer in search of
something.
"Miss St. Clair, will you come and be introduced to Miss Randolph?"
The St. Clair walked up demurely and took my hand. Her words were in
abrupt contrast. "Where are her things going, Miss Bentley?" I
wondered that pretty lips could be so ungracious. It was not temper
which appeared on them, but cool rudeness.
"Madame said we must make some room for her," Miss Bentley answered.
"I don't know where," remarked Miss Macy. "_I_ have not two inches."
"She can't have a peg nor a drawer of mine," said the St. Clair.
"Don't you put her there, Bentley." And the young lady left us with
that.
"We must manage it somehow," said Miss Bentley. "Lansing, look here,
can't you take your things out of this drawer? Miss Randolph has no
place to lay anything. She _must_ have a little place, you know."
Lansing looked up with a perplexed face, and Miss Macy remarked that
nobody had a bit of room to lay anything.
"I am very sorry," I said.
"It is no use being sorry, child," said Miss Macy; "we have got to fix
it, somehow. I know who _ought_ to be sorry. Here--I can take this
pile of things out of this drawer; that is all _I_ can do. Can't she
manage with this half?"
But Miss Lansing came and made her arrangements, and then it was found
that the smallest of the four drawers was cleared and ready for my
occupation.
"But if we give you a whole drawer," said Miss Macy, "you must be
content with one peg in the wardrobe--will you?"
"Oh, and she can have one or two hooks in the closet," said
bright-eyes. "Come here, Miss Randolph, I will show you."
And there in the closet I found was another place for washing, with
cocks for hot and cold water; and a press and plenty of iron hooks;
with dresses and hats hanging on them. Miss Lansing moved and changed
several of these, till she had cleared a space for me.
"There," she said, "now you'll do, won't you? I don't believe you can
get a scrape of a corner in the wardrobe; Macy and Bentley and St.
Clair take it up so. _I_ haven't but one dress hanging there, but
you've got a whole drawer in the bureau."
I was not very awkward and clumsy in my belongings, but an elephant
could scarcely have been more bewildered if he had been requested to
lay his proboscis up in a glove box. "I cannot put a dress in the
drawer," I remarked.
"Oh, you can hang one up here under your cap; and that is all any of
us do. Our things, all except our everyday things, go down stairs in
our trunks. Have you many trunks?"
I told her no, only one. I did not know why it was a little
disagreeable to me to say that. The feeling came and passed. I hung up
my coat and cap, and brushed my hair; my new companion looking on.
Without any remark, however, she presently rushed off, and I was left
alone. I began to appreciate that. I sat down on the side of my little
bed; to my fancy the very chairs were appropriated; and looked at my
new place in the world.
Five of us in that room! I had always had the comfort of great space
and ample conveniences about me; was it a _luxury_ I had enjoyed? It
had seemed nothing more than a necessity. And now must I dress and
undress myself before so many spectators? could I not lock up anything
that belonged to me? were all my nice and particular habits to be
crushed into one drawer and smothered on one or two clothes-pins? Must
everything I did be seen? And, above all, where could I pray? I looked
round in a sort of fright. There was but one closet in the room, and
that was a washing closet, and held besides a great quantity of other
people's belongings. I could not, even for a moment, shut it against
them. In a kind of terror, I looked to make sure that I was alone, and
fell on my knees. It seemed to me that all I could do was to pray
every minute that I should have to myself. They would surely be none
too many. Then, hearing a footstep somewhere, I rose again and took
from my bag my dear little book. It was so small I could carry it
where I had not room for my Bible. I looked for the page of the day, I
remember now, with my eyes full of tears.
"Be watchful," were the first words that met me. Aye, I was sure I
would need it; but how was a watch to be kept up, if I could never be
alone to take counsel with myself? I did not see it; this was another
matter from Miss Pinshon's unlocked door. After all, that unlocked
door had not greatly troubled me; my room had not been of late often
invaded. Now I had no room. What more would my dear little book say to
me?
"Be sober, be vigilant; because your adversary the devil, as a roaring
lion, walketh about, seeking whom he may devour."
Was the battle to go so hard against me? and what should I do without
that old and well-tried weapon of "all-prayer?" Nothing; I should be
conquered. I must have and keep that, I resolved; if I lay awake and
got up at night to use it. Dr. Sandford would not like such a
proceeding; but there were worse dangers than the danger of lessened
health. I _would_ pray; but what next?
"Take heed to thyself, and keep thy soul diligently."--"What I say
unto you I say unto all, Watch."
I stood by the side of my bed, dashing the tears from my eyes. Then I
heard, as I thought, some one coming, and in haste looked to see what
else might be on the page: what further message or warning. And
something like a sunbeam of healing flashed into my heart with the
next words.
"Fear thou not: for I am with thee: be not dismayed; for I am thy God;
I will strengthen thee; yea, I will help thee; yea, I will uphold thee
with the right hand of my righteousness."
"I, the Lord thy God, will hold thy right hand."
I was healed. I put up my little book in my bag again, feeling whole
and sound. It did not matter that I was crowded and hindered and
watched; for it was written also, "He preserveth the way of his
saints;" and I was safe.
I sat a little while longer alone. Then came a rush and rustle of many
feet upon the stairs, many dresses moving, many voices blending in a
soft little roar; as ominous as the roar of the sea which one hears in
a shell. My four room-mates poured into the room, accompanied by two
others; very busy and eager about their affairs that they were
discussing. Meanwhile they all began to put themselves in order.
"The bell will ring for tea directly," said Miss Macy, addressing
herself to me; "are you ready?"
"'Tisn't much trouble to fix _her_ hair," said my friend with the
black eyes.
Six pair of eyes for a moment were turned upon me.
"You are too old to have your hair so," remarked Miss Bentley. "You
ought to let it grow."
"Why don't you?" said Miss Lansing.
"She is a Roundhead," said the St. Clair, brushing her own curls;
which were beautiful and crinkled all over her head, while my hair was
straight. "I don't suppose she ever saw a Cavalier before."
"St. Clair, you are too bad!" said Miss Macy. "Miss Randolph is a
stranger."
St. Clair made no answer, but finished her hair and ran off; and
presently the others filed off after her; and a loud clanging bell
giving the signal, I thought best to go too. Every room was pouring
forth its inmates; the halls and passages were all alive and astir. In
the train of the moving crowd, I had no difficulty to find my way to
the place of gathering.
This was the school parlour; not the one where I had seen Mme. Ricard.
Parlours, rather; there was a suite of them, three deep; for this part
of the house had a building added in the rear. The rooms were large
and handsome; not like school rooms, I thought; and yet very different
from my home; for they were bare. Carpets and curtains, sofas and
chairs and tables were in them, to be sure; and even pictures; yet
they were bare; for books and matters of art and little social
luxuries were wanting, such as I had all my life been accustomed to,
and such as filled Mme. Ricard's own rooms. However, this first