A Little Country Girl

  CHAPTER VI.

  A TALK ABOUT SHYNESS.

  "CANNIE," said Mrs. Gray, a few days after the sailing-party, "would youlike to study French this summer, with Marian for company?"

  "Y-es," replied Cannie; but she said it more because she saw that a yeswas expected of her, than because of any real pleasure at the idea. Likemost girls who have had scanty or poor teaching, she liked to read agreat deal better than she liked to study.

  "Do you know any French at all?" continued her cousin.

  "No, not any. There wasn't anybody at home who taught it; and if therehad been, I don't believe Aunt Myra would have let me learn. She thinksEnglish is a good enough language for anybody. I did study Latin alittle while, though. Aunt Myra consented to that, because we had papa'sLatin books in the house, and she said they might as well be useful."

  "Well, your Latin won't come amiss to your French," said Mrs. Gray,laughing to herself over this thrifty reason for learning a language."Marian is, of course, far ahead of you in speaking, for she learned itby ear, as they say of music, during the year we spent in France on ourway home; but she knows but little of the rules and grammar. I think youwill do very well together; for her fluency will tempt you on to talk,and your perseverance will keep her up to the exercises andconjugations, which are sad drudgery, but very needful if you are everreally to know anything of the language. You are persevering, are younot, Cannie?"

  "I don't know whether I am or not," replied Candace, inly resolving tojustify Cousin Kate's good opinion.

  "I have confidence in you," said Mrs. Gray, smiling kindly at her. "Andanother thing I wanted to say is, that I think both you and Marian willenjoy the summer a great deal better for having one regular study toprepare for. It gives a sort of backbone to your lives, don't you see?Clear fun is like clear honey,--it cloys and loses its charm; but whenit is mixed with occupation it keeps its flavor, and you don't get tiredof it."

  "I can understand that," said Candace, thoughtfully. "I recollect hownice Saturday afternoons used to seem when Aunt Myra had kept me busydarning stockings all the morning. I think I _would_ like the Frenchlessons, Cousin Kate; only I am afraid the teacher will think me verystupid."

  Candace's fears were not realized. As a beginner, her first steps werenecessarily slow; but she took pains, and had no bad habits or evilaccents to unlearn, and after a while she "got hold" of the language andwent on more rapidly. Marian's fluent chatter stimulated her to try totalk as fast also, though Mademoiselle Bougereau, their teacher, found agreat deal of fault with Marian, and said that many of the phraseswhich came so glibly out of her mouth partook of the nature of slang,and were not finished or elegant French. Still, with all drawbacks, thelittle class of two made fair progress; and Candace realized that whatMrs. Gray had said was true, and that all the bits of amusement andpleasure which came in her way were doubly enjoyed by reason of thelittle "backbone" of real work thus put into her days.

  Another pleasure which she and Marian shared in common was a surf-bathbefore breakfast. Berry Joy had got up an omnibus party of girls, whichshe called "The Early Dip Club," in which all four of Mrs. Gray's youngpeople were included. Punctually at a quarter before seven on every fairmorning the omnibus rattled up the Avenue; and the "Club" set out, underthe care of an old experienced maid of Mrs. Joy's, who had nursed Berry,and could be trusted to see that none of the young ladies did anythingvery imprudent,--such as staying too long in the water or standing aboutin their wet bathing-dresses. At that early hour there were no loungersto stare at the party. The beach, cleanly swept by the tide of the nightbefore, had scarcely a footprint to mar its smooth, firm sands. Therewas something delightful in the perfect freshness of the hour and place.Some of the girls had taken lessons in the "School of Natation" in thelower bay, and could swim very well. Candace could not swim, and made noattempt to learn; but she soon acquired the art of floating, under thetuition of Alice Frewen, who, next to Marian and herself, was theyoungest of the party, and to whom she had taken a great fancy. Thethree "children," as Berenice Joy called them, made common cause, andgenerally kept together, a little apart from the others, holding eachother's hands and splashing up and down in the rollers with greatenjoyment.

  Bathing over, the "Early Dippers" returned home in their omnibus aboutthe time that other people were waking up, bringing with them suchcheeks and such appetites as were a satisfaction to their families, anddid great credit to the powers of the Newport surf.

  So the days sped on. It was full summer-tide now; yet the weather neverseemed hot, except perhaps for an hour or two at a time. Morning aftermorning the sun would rise in a blaze of yellow, which anywhere elsewould have betokened a scorching day; and just as people had begun tosay, "What a sultry morning!" lo, in one moment the wind would set infrom the sea, strong, salty, fresh, invigorating; and, behold, it wascool! Or if the afternoon seemed for a little while oppressive in thestreets of the old town, it was only necessary to go down to the end ofthe Avenue to find a temperature cool enough to be called chilly. Nobodyever thought of driving without a shawl, and the shawl was almost alwaysneeded. Mrs. Gray was wont to say that Newport had three differentclimates,--a warm one and a cold one and an in-between one,--and it hadthem all three every day, and people could take their choice, which wasmuch more convenient than having only one.

  The large places on the Cliffs were all open and occupied now. Theflower-beds, newly planted when Candace came, made wonderful spaces ofcolor everywhere in the emerald turf. Geraniums seemed as universal asgrass, and their splendid reds and pinks were such as are seldom seenanywhere except in Newport. Foliage plants grew into enormous crimson orgolden mats, which showed not one break in their luxuriant fulness. Inthe more ornate places were beds planted to look like Turkish carpets orIndian shawls, the pattern reproduced by hundreds of small plants ofcarefully adjusted hues, kept closely shaven so as to lie as flat as theobjects they simulated. Roses were everywhere; and the soft driftingmists which now and again blew in from the sea, and the constantunderlying moisture of the climate kept everything in a state of perfectfreshness.

  The Casino balls and lawn-tennis matches had begun. Visitors werepouring into the Ocean House; and every day increased the number ofcarriages, drags, dog-carts, pony phaetons, and village carts, which onall bright afternoons thronged the Avenue from end to end. Dinners andlawn-parties were of frequent occurrence, and during calling-hours thebell seemed always in vibration at the Gray cottage.--"Cottage" I callit; for in Newport everything that is not a "villa" is styled a"cottage," no matter how big or square or uncompromising its appearancemay be.

  Candace was rather too young to be taken into general society, and shesaw much less of these entertainments than Georgie; less even thanGertrude, who, by reason of her intimacy with Georgie's set, was oftenincluded in their parties, though not yet formally "out." Mrs. Gray,however, thought it good for Candace to share a little of what was goingon; and she took pains to have her invited now and then with the othersto lawn-parties, excursions, or afternoon teas. If Mrs. Gray herself waspresent on these occasions, Cannie did pretty well; for she invariablygot behind her cousin or beside her, made no attempt to talk, and justamused herself by watching what went on. But when Mrs. Gray did not go,and she was left to the tender mercies of Georgie and Gertrude, she wasapt to feel lonely and unfriended; for with all the better resolutionsof these pleasure-loving young people, they still found it "easy toforget Cannie."

  "What are you going to do this morning, children?" asked Mrs. Gray, oneday at breakfast. "Is the great tennis-match that we have heard so muchabout to come off, or have I forgotten the date?"

  "No, this is the eventful day," replied Gertrude; "and I am so nervousabout it that I don't feel as if I could play at all."

  "Nonsense! you played beautifully yesterday," said Georgie.

  "There wasn't anything depending on me yesterday. It is queer how peoplenever do their best when it is important that they should. I feel as ifI were going to be all thumbs this morning.
"

  "Oh, you won't. You'll get excited and forget about the thumbs,"remarked Georgie, consolingly. "Mamma, aren't you coming to see us?"

  "Yes, I think I shall; and I will bring Cannie with me. She hasn't seenthe Casino yet."

  Candace had become familiar with the street side of the pretty Casinobuilding, and admired greatly its long facade, with the quaintlyshingled curves and balconies, and the low gables, ornamented with disksand half suns in dull gilding,--all looking, Mrs. Gray said, as old asif it had stood there for a couple of centuries, instead of for three orfour years only. But the street side, picturesque as it is, had by nomeans prepared her for what she saw as she followed her cousin throughthe entrance hall and into the quadrangle beyond.

  What did she see? An open space of greenest turf, broken only by twolong curving beds of foliage plants and a stone basin from which afountain threw up a cool jet to refresh the air. On either hand, and onthe side from which they had entered, was a line of low buildings, withbalconies and _grilles_ of quaintly designed wood-work, windows filledwith oddly tinted glass, and at one point a clock tower of roughmasonry, over which vines were clustering. Connecting the buildings toright and left, was a raised covered gallery, semi-circular in shape,with a second gallery overhead; and on these ladies in fresh morningtoilettes were sitting, some with pieces of embroidery in their hands,others collected in knots for conversation or to listen to the music ofthe band.

  Beyond this gallery lay another and much larger quadrangle, with linesof trees and shrubs to veil its boundaries, on which lawn-tennis wasbeing played in five or six courts at once. At the back of thisquadrangle was another long low building, in the same picturesque styleas the rest, which, Mrs. Gray explained, contained on one side acharming little theatre which could also be used as a ball-room, and onthe other an admirable bowling-alley and racket-court for the use of themembers. The band was playing gay music; a hum of conversation filledthe air; pretty girls in white or blue or rose color were moving about;the wind drew with delicious coolness through the galleries; altogetherit would have been hard to find on a summer morning a prettier place ora livelier scene.

  Mrs. Gray was too much of a favorite not to be at once sought out. Shewas soon the centre of a little group of friends; and Candace sat besideher, silent as usual, but gazing with enchanted eyes at the animatedfigures on the tennis ground, at the gables and loggias of therestaurant building, at the curious clock-tower, with the heavy ironrings depending above the base, and its top like a bellflower. It wasall like a fairy tale to her. Her imagination was actively at work, butno one would have guessed it from her quiet little face; and when Mrs.Gray introduced her to one person and another, she shrank into herself,and after her shy little bow and "How do you do?" relapsed again intostillness, and made no attempt to keep up a conversation. People werekind; but it is always easy to secure solitude in a crowd, and Canniesoon found herself let alone to her heart's content.

  Gertrude was playing her best. Her nervousness had disappeared in theexcitement of the game, as Georgie had predicted that it would, and someof her strokes were so clever as to win a little volley of applause fromthe by-standers. Candace did not know the game well enough to appreciatefine points of play, but she could perfectly appreciate the fun ofwinning; and when Gertrude, flushed and radiant, came to show her motherthe prize she had won, a lace pin of gold filigree in the form of aracket, Cannie's face lighted up with a bright sympathy which waspleasant to see. A lady who had been watching her whispered to Mrs.Gray, "What a sweet face that little niece of yours has!"

  "So she has," replied Mrs. Gray; "only she is so very timid. She neverdoes herself justice."

  "Is it timidity? I had a fancy that she had an unhappy temper, or wastroubled about something. Her face has always seemed so sad andovercast till just now, when it lit up at Gertrude's good fortune, andthen I caught the true expression."

  Mrs. Gray recollected this remark as she drove home with Candace, who,perfectly at ease now that she was alone with her cousin Kate, chatteredand laughed like any other girl, and showed herself the happy youngthing that she was. At home, even when with Georgie and Gertrude, shewas no longer shy; but the moment a stranger came in, all was changed.It was like an evil spell cast by some enchanter. The pleasant smile andsimple childish manner vanished, and Cannie became stiff, cold, awkwardeven; for her discomfort made her feel constrained in every limb andmuscle. Her manner grew frigid, because she was frightened and wanted tohide it. If she had to shake hands, she did it without smiling and withdowncast eyes; she was too ill at ease to be cordial. People thoughtthat she was out of humor or troubled about something, and set her downas dull and unattractive; and with a natural reaction, Cannie felt thatthey did not like her, and that made her more uncomfortable than ever.

  Mrs. Gray pitied Cannie very much, and had tried various methods toshake her out of her shyness and teach her confidence in herself. Noneof them so far had done any good. She now began to wonder if heranalysis of the case was not wrong; if shyness was not a fault ratherthan a misfortune, and needed to be disciplined accordingly. She watchedCandace for a day or two, and then she made up her mind. "It will bekill or cure," she thought, as she ordered the coupe and proposed toCannie to take the ocean drive. Marian wanted to go too, and protestedthat there was plenty of room on the little let-down seat, and that shewouldn't crowd them a bit; but her mother was quite firm, and despatchedher on an errand in the other direction without any compunctions.

  "I must have Cannie all to myself," she thought.

  It was not till they were out of the Avenue and rolling along the smoothroad beyond Bailey's Beach, with the fresh-water ponds on one hand andon the other the points and indentations of the coast, that Mrs. Grayled to the subject which was on her mind. The sea was intensely bluethat afternoon, with shoots of creamy foam over every rock and ledge,and for a while they talked of nothing but the beauty of the day and theview. Finally Mrs. Gray began,--

  "How did you like Mrs. Endicott?"

  Mrs. Endicott was one of various visitors who had called that morning.Candace had been sent for, and had been more than usually awkward andunresponsive.

  "I liked her pretty well," said Candace. "She didn't talk to me but alittle while."

  "I know she didn't. It was on her account specially that I sent for youto come down," continued Mrs. Gray. "Did she tell you that she was atschool with your mother when they were quite little girls?"

  "No!" said Candace, surprised.

  "Yes; they were great friends, and she wrote to me before she came upthat she was looking forward to seeing you. Shall I tell you why she sosoon stopped talking to you? She told me afterward. She said: 'I wantedto talk to your niece about her mother, and to ask her to come to me fora visit; but she looked so frightened and seemed so stiff and shy andhard to get at, that I thought the kindest thing I could do would be tolet her alone for the moment, till she was a little more used to me, andto talk to some one else. Next time I come, we shall get on better, Ihope.'"

  Candace looked much mortified.

  "Was I stiff?" she asked. "I didn't know it. I didn't mean to be."

  "You are almost always stiff with strangers," said her cousin. "I knowyou do not mean it, and you are not conscious of the effect of your ownmanner; but all the same it is stiff. Now, Cannie, will you promise menot to be hurt at what I am going to say?"

  "Why, of course I won't," said Cannie, looking at her with trustfuleyes.

  "Well then, listen! If I didn't know you,--if you were not my own dearlittle Cannie, whose warm heart I am sure of, and whose good intentionsI know all about,--if I met you for the first time and judged of youmerely from your manner, as all strangers must judge,--do you know whatI should think?"

  "What?"

  "I should think you rather a cold-hearted girl, who didn't like peopleand didn't mind letting them know it."

  "Oh, Cousin Kate!"

  "Or else, if I were more charitably inclined, I should think you a dullgirl who did not take muc
h interest in what went on about her."

  "Oh, Cousin Kate!"

  "Or," continued her cousin, relentlessly, "if I were a real angel, anddisposed to make the very best of everybody, I should say to myself,'The poor thing is so shy that she can't show what she really is.'Unluckily, there are few perfect angels in this world, and a great manyof the other sort. And even as a perfect angel, my dear Cannie, I don'tthink I should consider you exactly agreeable."

  "But what can I do?" demanded Candace, looking very unhappy. "I can'tmake myself not shy."

  "No; but you can mend matters by forcing yourself to hide your shyness.I have been meditating on the subject, Cannie, and I have made up mymind that shyness is one form of selfishness."

  "Cousin Kate, how can you say that? I thought selfishness was doing whatyou liked and what is pleasant. I'm sure I don't _like_ to be shy."

  "Oh, it's not that kind of selfishness," said Mrs. Gray, smiling. "Thereis nothing pleasant about shyness; that I am quite ready to admit. Butcan't you see that it is self-occupation, the being absorbed with yourown sensations and feelings, and with trying to imagine what people arethinking about you, that makes you so miserable? If you could forgetand occupy yourself with others, this shyness would go. Now, thismorning, had you been full of Mrs. Endicott, and what she was like, andwhat she wanted to talk about, instead of little Candace Arden, and whatMrs. Endicott considered her like, it would all have been different, andmuch pleasanter for both of you."

  "Oh, if I only could," said Candace, with a catch in her voice, "I wouldgive anything I have in the world! I hate to seem so awkward and dull.But you've no idea how uncomfortable I feel, Cousin Kate. The moment Icome downstairs and see that roomful of company, my face twitches and mycheeks burn, and I can't think of anything to say, and I keep wishing Icould run upstairs again and hide somewhere."

  "Yes, because, as I said, your mind is full of yourself. If instead ofcoming in with this miserable self-consciousness full upon you, youcould look upon the roomful as just so many people to whom you owe thelittle duties of politeness and cordiality, for whom you have thechance to do something kind or pleasant, you would forget your face andyour cheeks and the desire to run away. You would be thinking of them,and in thinking of them you would forget to be shy."

  Candace did not reply.

  "You are a conscientious child," her cousin went on. "I think that yousincerely wish to do what is right, and to make God's rule the rule ofyour life. And, Candace, in my opinion you should consider it a part ofreligious duty to try to get rid of this false shame, this bondage tothe idea of self, and to learn to live for others instead."

  Candace looked up, with the dawn of a new idea in her face.

  "How do you mean?" she asked.

  "You cannot always run away," continued her cousin. "Big as it is, theworld is not big enough to furnish hiding-places for all the people whoare afraid to face their fellow-men. And since you cannot run away, yourplain duty is to be brave and make the best of it. Now, Cannie, thereare two things which may help you to do this, two thoughts which you cankeep in mind; and I wish you would try to remember them when you feel afit of fright or of stiffness coming on."

  "What are they?"

  "One is, that you are but one little insignificant atom among thousands.People are not thinking about you or noticing you very particularly. Youare not of much consequence except to yourself and the few friends wholove you. This would be a mortifying fact, if vanity were your trouble;but as it is not, it is a comfortable one. And just as nobody noticesyou specially, so all the world is not engaged afterward in recollectingall your little mistakes and the stupid things you have said. Unless youhave done something _very_ queer, they forget about you as soon as theylose sight of you. I know what miseries sensitive girls undergo inthinking over their foolish speeches and actions, and imagining thatevery one remembers them as distinctly as they themselves do."

  Cannie couldn't help smiling. "Cousin Kate, how can you know about allthose things?" she asked.

  "Because I was a girl myself once, and as foolish as any of the rest ofyou; and I have not forgotten how it feels to be a girl," said hercousin, gayly. "That is the use of growing old, Cannie. You can show theway to younger people, and make the road you have walked over a littleeasier for them.--But to go back to what we were talking about, our owninsignificance is one helpful thought, as I said; the other is, thatkindliness is one of the Christian virtues, and it is just as much aduty to practise it as it is to be honest and temperate."

  Candace drew a long breath.

  "It would be perfectly delightful to keep thinking like that always,"she said; "the only thing is that I am afraid I should forget when thetime came. I wish you could give me an exact rule, Cousin Kate, justwhat to say and how to act. I would try ever so hard to follow it."

  "I know you would," said Mrs. Gray; "but there is no exact rule that Ican give, except the Golden one, to do to others just as you would likethem to do to you. If you feel stiff, be sure to look cordial. Smile,and shake hands as if you meant it. Try to look interested in whatpeople are saying to you. A good listener helps on conversation as wellas a good talker. If you are friendly and warm in your manner, otherpeople will warm to you instinctively. Try it, Cannie, and see if I amnot right. And now we will not talk any more about ourselves or ourshyness, but drive into the Fort and listen to the music. I caught astrain from the Band just then, and I recollect that this is a 'FortDay.'"

  So in they drove, clattered between walls and embankments, and over asteep paved incline beneath a great arch, and found themselves in anopen square, with buildings of solid masonry on all sides, in the midstof which the band was stationed. Other carriages were drawn up to listento the music, and officers in uniform were coming and going, andtalking to the ladies in the carriages. One of these officers, a niceold Major, with a bald spot under his gold-banded cap, knew Mrs. Gray,and came to welcome her. His "girls" were gone over to Newport to alawn-party, he said; but he insisted on taking Mrs. Gray and Cannie into see their quarters, which were in a casemate, in close neighborhoodto one of the great guns. Here he brewed them a delicious cup of tea;and afterward, at Mrs. Gray's request, he took Candace to see themagazines, and some of the curious underground passages which connectone side of the Fort with the other. Cannie thought these extremelyinteresting, and like all the caves on desert islands which she had everread about; for they were narrow, dark, and mysterious, they smelt veryclose, and all sorts of odd funguses and formations were growing on theroofs overhead.

  These adventures chased the worry from her mind and the anxious puckersfrom her forehead; and she went home quite happily, without recurringagain to the subject of their late conversation. But she did not forgetit, and it bore fruit. Mrs. Gray noted, without seeming to be on thewatch, the efforts which Candace thenceforward made to overcome hershyness. She saw her force herself to come forward, force herself tosmile, to speak, when all the time she was quaking inwardly; and shefelt that there was real power of character required for such an effort.Quiet Candace would always be; modest and retiring it was her nature tobe: but gradually she learned not to seem cold and stiff; and when hercousin saw her, as she sometimes did, forgetting herself in talking tosome one, and lighting up into her easy, natural, bright manner, shefelt that the rather hard lesson administered that afternoon on theocean drive had not been in vain. Rome was not built in a day, and easeof manner is not acquired in a moment; but Candace had at last got holdof a right idea, and there was hope that with time people lesscharitable even than "perfect angels" might pronounce her "agreeable."