CHAPTER XI
SCHOOL IN EARNEST
On Monday the real work of school began. Besides the boarding scholars,was a day-school of the young ladies and larger girls, who were eithersent away or went to Aldred House. There was an excellent school for thelittle ones, and a very good public school, but Westchester did not takecordially to this except for the boys.
Two of the teachers had arrived on Saturday evening. Madame Meran, theFrench teacher, who also gave music lessons to the younger pupils, andMiss Lane, who taught Latin and German to the few who desired it, andhad dreams of college life. Mrs. Aldred made no specialty of this, butsome of the pupils insisted on remaining until that time. There were twodivisions in the senior class, two in the junior. Helen was glad thatDaisy Bell was in the B. division. She was not as gay as Roxy Mays, butthere was a quality of tenderness in her that was very attractive.
She was not quite sure that she would desire to make a warm friend ofMiss Mays though on Friday evening her whole heart had gone out to her.She could turn any subject into ridicule so easily, she could seize onsmall foibles and distort them with such a winsome grace that they wereamusing at the time, but when one thought them over afterward one sawthe little stings that were left behind.
It was so different from anything Helen had dreamed of. At first shethought she would have been happier going to the Hope High School andworking her way through. There was a feeling that she did not truly andhonestly belong in this circle of girls, many of whom had rich fathersand luxurious homes; and she wondered if some day she would come to havethe careworn and unsatisfied look that Miss Lane had. Miss Lane hadtaught ten years, beginning when she was nineteen. So she wastwenty-nine.
"And I do not believe she has ever had a lover," said Miss Mays. "Shelooks so."
"What kind of a look is that?" questioned someone.
"Why that discontented, hungry expression, that curious alertness, as ifyou were looking for something that had never come, and you were afraidnever would. Girls, if I had to live until I was twenty-nineunmarried----"
"Well, what then?" queried three or four voices.
"I'd find some way of finishing it out at twenty-five."
"Oh, you couldn't," cried Daisy, shocked.
"Well, there are sisterhoods in churches and they are very respectable.My great-aunt Roxalana has been married twice, both times to rich men.She's eighty-six now and looks like a fright, though it is said she wasa very pretty young woman. It's safe to say that when your compeers areall dead. Oh, I do hope I will never outlive my beauty."
They all laughed at that.
Days were divided up like clock-work. You were called at six while themornings were light. Breakfast was at seven. At eight there was a studyperiod. Quarter before nine they assembled in the small seated roomcalled the chapel, by courtesy, and at nine went into the schoolroom. Ateleven they had ten minutes' recreation, then study until twelve; anhour for luncheon, and two hours' study and recitation again. Twoafternoons a week music lessons. Dinner from five to six; from seven tonine study period, unless one could get through sooner.
Helen thought this first day that she had never really studied in herlife. She had a quick memory, at least, so it had always seemed, and anabsolute genius for mathematics. History, as far as she had gone, was adelight. But the Latin! Was there any sense in it? Did the old Romanstalk in that tongue? And what was the use of it now, when Rome itselfwas Italian.
"You will understand the use of it by and by," said Miss Lane. "I amafraid, so far, what you have acquired has come too easy, but a yearhence you will be laughing over this when you hear some other girlsmoan."
If the Latin was a trial, the music was still more so. When slim fingersglided over the keys with chords of melody it penetrated her very soul,and she just drew in long breaths of delight. But hers were not slimfingers and running up and down the scale seemed as much beyond her asconversing in Latin.
"You are in too great a hurry. You go too hard, with too much force,"said Madame Meran.
All that she had done thus far in life had been done in a hurry, exceptwaiting on Mrs. Van Dorn, who took everything leisurely. She tried notto run upstairs, as she found only new girls did that, and not to walkheavily on the uncarpeted floor. And she was glad enough of theexperience at Mrs. Dayton's. She was not an awkward girl, and shewatched the others with keen eyes. A fortnight passed before the schoolwas full. One day Mrs. Aldred summoned her.
"You said the first day you came that you liked people," that lady begansmilingly. "As yours is a double room and the other part needed, I amgoing to give you a choice. You can have a small room to yourself orMiss Daisy Bell will share yours, and the new scholar take hers."
"Oh, I should like that," her eyes shining with pleasure. "But ifshe----"
"She is quite willing. This is a first year for both of you, since sheonly came last Easter, and you may be able to help each other. She isalready a fair musician and has had a year's tuition in Latin; inseveral English branches you are much in advance. Then you have a studyhabit, and that she lacks."
"I am glad I have one good quality," and the eager face flushed withgratification.
"You have more than one," smiling. "You are too impatient aboutlearning. Everything does not come by nature, and there may be manyyears to devote to it."
"I think of only two. I want to crowd in everything I can."
"Do not look so far ahead. It is better to live day by day; better to doto-day's duty."
"But I am falling behind all the time. I spent Saturday trying to catchup, instead of having a good time. And I do so want to walk in thosehaunts over the river, those woods and wilds, before the frost comeson."
"You were brave to give it up. They are beautiful even after frost, andthere will be some time to spare. The first week, the first month,indeed, is generally the hardest. Then I'll send Miss Bell to you? Ithink you will make good comrades."
"Oh, I shall be delighted."
She almost ran into Daisy's arms in the hall.
"I was coming to tell you some news," exclaimed the girl eagerly, hereyes shining with pleasure.
"About----"
"Oh, I know Roxy Mays ferreted that out! I do believe it is as she says,a bird in the air tells her."
"No. Mrs. Aldred spoke to me."
The sweet face lighted up instantly.
"That is all right then. I like to have the telling of something first,don't you? I think we shall get along nicely. I should not like everygirl----"
"Oh, thank you;" laughingly.
"That is true of us all, isn't it, or most of us? I would not like toroom with anyone who was not neat, I'd like someone fond of study tospur me on. I'm dismal at algebra, and I can help you in the Latin. Andthen your room isn't crowded up with everything. I think so much makesyou tired. And this is an awful heresy, but I am tired of Gibson girls,and nearly all having the same pictures and ornaments. It isn't restful.Think of Claudine Marr's room. I wonder if she ever draws a good,unimpeded breath? I'm not surprised that she has headaches."
"When I am tired I look out of the window at the most beautiful pictureI have ever seen. And I think how it will change all the autumn."
"And be dreary in the winter."
"I do not believe I feel about leafless trees as most people do. You seeall the fine little twigs and branches, some days in a gray-purple sortof haze, some days tipped with shimmering gold, then silvered withmoonlight or sparkling with frost, and I am content that the leaves dropoff so that you can see how really wonderful they are. And when the windtosses them all about, nature seems rocking them with a lullaby, youfeel as if they were in some degree human."
"Oh, Helen, you ought to be a poet," Daisy exclaimed enthusiastically.
They had walked to Helen's room. Her clothes were all in the closet, herbooks lay on the table, only her writing-desk was on the chair. She hadadded nothing to the room, but she did want a case of shelves. And oddlyenough she had not encroached on the other side. Daisy wondered
ratherat that.
"Then I may move in at once."
"Oh, yes. I shall be delighted."
"Come and help me empty my closet."
Helen did this with pleasure. They had a gay time settling things andwere all in order when Miss Mays came flying along the hall.
"So you have formed a partnership, have you? I had half a mind tosuggest it last night when we heard that Miss Craven was coming. I'vejust been introduced to her, and she's a positive fright. Lean, long,and lanky, beautiful alliteration, is it not? Helen, she would havegiven you the nightmare."
"I am satisfied," and Helen nodded with a secret feeling of exultationas she met Daisy's eyes.
"What conspiracy are you hatching now?" glancing from one to the other.
The sound of the dinner bell was sufficient excuse for not answering.For once they had the innings.
The new scholar was at the next table to them. She was tall and looked,as Roxy said afterwards, of a very uncertain age. Her hair was a ratherdull light brown, her eyes a sort of hazel with bluish lights, whichmade them dull, and a complexion that would never be fair, with quite ashadow under the eyes. The features were not bad, but something wasneeded to give them life.
After the study period the two girls went upstairs with their armsaround each other.
"Let us run away to-morrow and have a walk and a splendid talk abouttrees," said Daisy. "I was thinking all dinner time that I needed to beintroduced to them. I believe I am only acquainted with Mr. Evergreenand Mr. Horse-chestnut. It bothers me to tell an elm tree from a mapleand a white-skinned beech from a white birch."
"Oh, dear! I've promised to devote the afternoon to scales. I've had alittle Latin hammered into me, but I am almost afraid that,extravagantly as I love music I shall make small headway in the divineart. And Madame Meran was good enough to offer me an extra lesson."
"Then we will take it some other Saturday."
"How delightful it is to be together!"
Then they kissed, girl fashion, for the first time, and uttered a tendergood-night.
Two rooms away Miss Craven was crying softly and wishing she had notcome here. It seemed an out of the way place, it was a small school, andMrs. Aldred's letter had been encouraging. There was all the fortune forher alone. If it had come earlier, while some of the others were aliveto share it! She, too, longed for an education so that she might be moreable to enjoy it.
"Have you written to Mrs. Van Dorn?" asked Mrs. Aldred on Saturdaymorning.
"I intend to this morning. And to my uncle."
Mrs. Aldred nodded approvingly.
Mrs. Van Dorn had said, "In a fortnight you may write me a letter. Thenonce a month."
So it had been a fortnight. She found a good deal to say. She liked theschool very much and described her room-mate, her new studies, thelittle she had seen of the town. And there was an enthusiastic gratitudethat satisfied the waiting and doubtful heart.
There was a good deal to say to Uncle Jason, and yet it was ratherdifficult not to write too rapturously. When she had finished that shebethought herself of Mr. Warfield. He had asked her to write.
She found no trouble here. Indeed the luncheon bell rang before she hadquite finished.
"You can go down to the post-office," Daisy exclaimed. "I want somestamps and some sewing cotton. Roxy borrowed mine."
She hurried her letter in the envelope. Daisy had asked permission. Shesent her letters on their way with a light heart, though as she cameback it was rather heavy. Such a golden day as it was. And several ofthe pupils were going out botanizing with Miss Grace. They all likedMiss Grace very much. A girl less used to giving up would haveconsidered it very hard. But she enjoyed every moment of this brief walkand came home with a great bunch of asters.
"If you only _were_ going! I should take twice the pleasure. HelenGrant, I do believe I have fallen in love with you."
"I am very glad," returned Helen with shining eyes.
To think how she had run around the woods in Hope and never thought ofthe wonderful beauty God had scattered so lavishly everywhere. Thisdelight was knowledge. Jenny never felt it as she walked in and out tothe factory. And Aunt Jane called it nonsense!
Madame Meran had some needlework and sat by her counting time, fingersand thumbs. Helen was so in earnest she could not help being interestedin her.
"Oh, do you suppose I ever shall learn?" she inquired with a discouragedsigh. "And I love music so."
"That is my hope about you. I have seen worse beginnings. You will nevermake a wonderful pianist, but you have a really fine voice, and it isnice to be able to play your own accompaniments."
"And someone I care for very much desires me to learn, someone to whom Iowe a debt of gratitude. So I shall do my best."
Then she went on steadily and did master two or three points.
"Now you may go in the study and practice, as I have to take Miss Cravenin hand, and I can trust you."
"Oh, thank you!" cried Helen delightedly. She was just as honest as ifMadame's eyes were on her. She gave the full hour although her wristached, and her thumb seemed to lose its agility. But she had made aslight advance, she could see that. And there were ten months to begiven to study.
She went out on the back porch presently, and then almost to the edge ofthe flat space. One _could_ go down the hill, even that was schoolgrounds, fenced in at the sides, and up here where there was a gate,kept locked for the most part. The sun was going down behind the nexthill, and across in the other State, almost as if there were two suns.What gorgeous coloring, changing, melting into new and indescribabletints and burnishing here, making scarlet shades there as if thetree-tops were on fire, and the rocks molten silver. How could it takeon or give out so many colors?
She had an impression someone was near and turned. It was the newscholar. There was a wistful expression in her eyes that touched Helen.No one had taken any special notice of her. Helen remembered her ownwarm welcome. Of course, now everyone was busy with lessons and hadsettled upon her friends and chums.
What could she say? To ask her if she felt at home would be a platitude,and Helen knew she did not come any nearer, as if she might beintruding. What a slim figure she had, and her frock was of fine, softmaterial that clung like the draperies in some of the "studies." Shewore a very handsome chain and the watch edge just showed above herbelt. Her hands were long and thin and she had a nervous manner of usingthem. She wore two beautiful rings.
Helen took a step towards her. "I wonder if you had such a battle withmusic as I did," she began, with girlish gayety. "It seemed as if I musthave tried Madame's patience until there was nothing left for you. I ambeginning to wonder how an excellent player who has an ear attuned toharmony can endure such stupidity."
Miss Craven stared with a sort of uncertainty.
"I should not think you were stupid. You look so bright and vivacious."
"I am afraid I wasn't born with the art of music along with the love forit."
"I have studied a little, alone mostly, and find I have some bad habits.And I like it beyond everything."
If she only wouldn't be so stiff and distant!
"I never touched a piano until I came here. And one can't expect to bean expert in four lessons," Helen said in a half-humorous tone.
Miss Craven flushed and it was not a pretty color.
"You like it here? Were you a new scholar this year? You look veryyoung."
"I was fourteen in the summer. Yes, I am a new scholar. But I have grownvery much at home."
Then there was a pause. Helen bethought herself of the other question.
"Yes, I like it extremely. It is such a beautiful place. I've beenstudying the sunset and wishing I could paint a picture of it. I've cometo wish so many things of late," laughing at herself. "And I like theteachers. I don't know many of the seniors, and I am in junior B."
"I am taking some private lessons," hesitatingly.
Poor girl! She could not even have passed a junior B examination.
&
nbsp; "There's such a pretty girl at your table. Her hair is the color onesometimes gets in a sunset, a bright gold, and yet it isn't the color somuch as the curious waviness and stir all about it. It seems alive. Andher complexion is beautiful, her eyes fairly laugh."
"That is Miss Mays. She isn't really in our class. She's an 'A' scholar.Every month someone new is elected for hostess. You are at the head ofthe table. You see that everything is served, that no one is--well, notexactly rude or awkward, but not up to the mark. And you keep a certainorder."
"I spilled my coffee this morning. My spoon was in my cup and I justtouched it with my cuff. I wish I could have gone through the floor orrun away. But one has to learn all these nice things if one meansto--to be anybody."
"I learned some of them in the summer. I was with a friend," and Helenflushed without quite knowing why. "I was a regular country girl--on afarm."
"I was too. I begin to think I ought not have come here, but I did notwant to go where there were one or two hundred girls, and I did want tolearn nice ways," hesitatingly.
"Then this is the very place to come."
"Only I did not imagine they were all rich girls; that is, societypeople," awkwardly.
"Oh, they are not. Two of the seniors mean to teach next year, so theycannot be rich. And one girl is going to an art school and means to workher way through. Of course most of them have fathers to care for them."
"I have never had anyone to care in that way. And it is curious, but onmy father's side I have not a single near relative, perhaps none at all.And my mother was an only child."
"I have neither father or mother," returned Helen. "But I have some verykind relatives on my mother's side."
"It is dreadful to be all alone, and to think----"
Miss Craven paused and compressed her lips, looked indeed as if shewould cry, but winked very hard. And then Helen noticed that she hadlovely long lashes, much darker than her hair and that her upper eyelidswere thin, almost transparent. It was queer how she was beginning to seethese little points of comeliness.
"Oh, there are the girls!" she said.
They were winding round into Elm Avenue, with great bunches of wildflowers and bright leaves, and one girl with an armful of golden-rod.
"I am much obliged for the talk," and with a sudden abruptness MissCraven disappeared.
Helen looked after her a moment. She was lonely and unhappy. She wouldlike very much to know her story. The girls speculated upon her anddecided that she was a nobody come into a fortune. Private lessons, ofnecessity, cost more, so she must have money. Then her clothes, thoughnot showy, were expensive and had a true _modiste_ air. There wasevidently something she did not want the world to know; she had not beenused to society, and she was hopelessly plain. Miss Mays made rhymesabout her on the Lear nonsense pattern. You really couldn't helplaughing at a great deal of bright criticism she indulged in if hercomments were rather sarcastic.
Helen ran down the steps out to the sidewalk, looking happy and merry.
"You poor child, you are not yet resolved into a demi-semi-quaver or anyother shaky thing. But you should have been with us! I was awfullyafraid of snakes, and one had to sit down and help to pick out thebeggar ticks, though I long to give them the old-fashioned, appropriatecountry name. Why such things were allowed to grow I can't see. Wediscovered a new rivulet meandering down the mountain side, and a royalbed of ferns, and one of two new specimens of bloom. As for you--Iobserve the jabberwock has not slain you, so I suppose you conqueredhim!"
Helen laughed as she took Roxy's outstretched hand, which she could notvery well help, and said, "I have the answer of a good conscience."
"And we have the answer of sights and sounds and a wonderful sunset."
"Yes, I saw that."
The girls were talking across each other and showing flowers. Becky,the general factotum, brought a jardiniere and put in all but thegolden-rod, which was reserved for a tall Japanese vase, and they wereset on each side of the hall door. Then the crowd went to fix up alittle for dinner.
Helen stole a furtive glance over at Miss Craven. She was simply stolid,indifferent, and went to her room while the others paced up and down thepiazza in twos and threes, exchanging confidences, or someone sang asong in the long parlor. Miss Lane, down in one corner of the veranda,was telling Greek legends to half a dozen girls. It was a picture offriendly content and enjoyment.
"I wonder if Miss Craven is crying in her room?" and Helen really longedto go to her. She was so overflowing with happiness.