XI.
_BELLE'S GRIEF._
And meanwhile how was it with little Belle?
Daphne went for her young mistress at the appointed hour, and as soonas the music-lesson was finished took her upstairs to make her ready.
"An' whar's yer locket, honey?" she asked, immediately missing theornament from about the child's neck.
"In my desk: it did come to a danger, Daphne. I broke the chain and hadto put it away. I'm going to bring it, and give it to you to carry homevery carefully, so it won't be lost."
"And how did it come broke, dear?" questioned the old woman.
"The chain caught on Miss Ashton's chair and just came right in two,"said Belle, refraining from blaming her cousin, upon whom she knewDaphne looked with such an unfavorable eye.
And away she ran into the school-room, Daphne following, and opened herdesk.
"Why!" she exclaimed, seeing the locket was not where she had left it;and then hastily fell to turning her books about and looking beneaththem.
"What is it, dear heart? Whar am it gone?" said Daphne, seeing nolocket, and observing the disturbance of her little charge.
"I don't know; I left it here,--right here in this corner. Oh! Daffy, Iknow I did; and I never touched it again. Miss Ashton told me not, nottill I went home; and I did mind her, oh! I did; but it isn't there.Oh! Daffy, you look, quick. Oh! my locket, mamma's own locket!"
Belle Powers. p. 164.]
Daphne turned over each book as hurriedly as Belle had done; then tookthem all out and shook them, peered within the empty desk, and swepther hand around it again and again; looked on the floor beneath: butall in vain. The locket was certainly not there, and Belle's face greweach moment more and more troubled.
"You's forgot, and took it out again, honey," said the old woman atlast.
"Oh! I didn't: how could I forget? And I don't dis'bey Miss Ashton whenshe tells me don't do a thing. I don't, Daphne; and I couldn't forgetabout my mamma's locket;" and the poor little thing burst into tears.Such tears!
If any of you have ever lost something which to you was very dear andsacred, which you looked upon as a treasure past all price, and whichyou would not have exchanged for a hundred pretty things, each one offar more value, you may know how Belle felt at this unlooked-for and,to her, mysterious disappearance of her locket.
"Now, don't yer, honey-pot,--don't yer," said Daphne, vainly trying tosoothe her: "'twill be foun', I reckon; but if you ain't took it out,some one else has, for sartain. It ain't walked out ob yer desk widouthan's, for sartain sure."
"Oh! but, Daffy, who would take it? who would be so bad to me? Theyknew I loved it so. I don't b'lieve anybody could tease me so, whenthey knew it was my own dead mamma's locket," sobbed the little one.
"Um! I spec' it warn't for no teasin' it war done," said Daphne, halfhesitating; then her resentment and anger at the supposed thief gettingthe better of her prudence, she added, "I did allus know Miss Mabel wora bad one; but I _didn't_ tink she so fur trabelled on de broad road asto take to stealin',--and de property ob her own kin too."
The word "stealing" silenced Belle, and checked her tears and cries fora moment or two.
"Stealing!" she repeated; "Mabel wouldn't steal, Daffy. Oh, that wouldbe too dreadful! She must know better than that. She couldn't _steal_my locket."
"Dunno," said Daphne, dryly: "'pears uncommon like it. Who you s'poseis de tief den, Miss Belle?"
"But we don't have thiefs in our school, Daphne," said the little girl:"we wouldn't do such a thing, and Miss Ashton would never 'low it."
"Dey don't ginerally ask no leave 'bout dere comin's an' goin's," saidDaphne: "if dey did, I specs der'd be less of 'em. You 'pend upon it,Miss Belle, dat ar locket's been stealed; an' I can put my finger onwho took it right straight off."
"But," persisted Belle, whose distress was still for the time overcomeby her horror at Daphne's suggestion, "I don't b'lieve any one woulddo such a thing; and, Daphne," raising her small head with a littledignified air, and looking reprovingly at the old woman, "I don'tb'lieve, either, that it is very proper for you to call Mabel a thief.Maybe she took it to show to the jeweller man, but I know she couldn'tsteal it. But, oh dear! oh dear! I wonder if I will ever have it backagain, my own, own mamma's locket;" and the sense of her loss comingover her with new force, she laid her head down upon her desk and criedaloud.
For the second time the sounds of distress called Miss Ashton to seewhat the trouble was; and they brought also the older girls from Mrs.Ashton's room, for their recess was not yet quite over. They allcrowded about Belle, asking what was the matter, and trying to sootheher; for Belle was a great favorite and pet in the school, partlybecause she was motherless,--poor little one!--which gave teachers andscholars all a tender feeling toward her, partly because she had manytaking and pretty ways of her own, which made her very attractive toevery one who knew her.
In her uncertainty and distress the child could not make plainthe cause of her trouble; and Daphne took upon herself the task ofexplanation, glad, if the truth were known, of the chance. Nor wasshe backward in expressing her own views of the matter, and in boldlyasserting that the locket had been stolen, and she knew by whom.
But at this, Belle roused herself and interrupted her nurse.
"No, no," she said, shaking her head as she looked up with face alldrowned in tears, and hardly able to speak for sobbing,--"no, no, MissAshton, Daphne _must_ be mistaken. Mabel never would do it,--never!"
Now in spite of all her own declarations to the contrary, the fact wasthat Daphne's repeated accusations, and the recollection of Mabel'sthreats that she would "have the locket _somehow_," had caused a doubtto enter little Belle's mind as to the possibility and probabilityof Mabel being the "thief" Daphne called her; but mindful of the"love-charity" she was determined to feel for her cousin,--the charitywhich "believeth all things, hopeth all things,"--she tried to put thisdoubt from her, and to think that some one else was the guilty person,or that the locket had only been taken to tease her. And she was notwilling that others should join in Daphne's suspicions and believe thatMabel could do such a thing.
But Miss Ashton herself had too much reason to fear that Daphne'sidea was, in part at least, correct. Enough had come to her ears andpassed before her eyes, to make her believe that Mabel, in her extremewilfulness, would not hesitate at any means of gaining her point,especially in the matter of the locket. She did not, it is true, feelsure that Mabel intended to keep the locket; but she thought she hadprobably taken it against her cousin's will, for purposes of her own;and this was hardly less dishonest than if she had, according toDaphne, _stolen_ it outright.
Miss Ashton was very much disturbed. Mabel was proving such a source oftrouble, such a firebrand in her little school, which had until nowgone on in so much peace and harmony, that she had felt for some daysas if it were scarcely best to keep her; still for many reasons she didnot wish to ask her mother to remove her.
She thought it better for Mabel to be thrown more with other childrenthan she had hitherto been; and her hope of doing her some good couldnot be put away readily; and also she shrank from offending andgrieving the child's relatives, especially Mr. Powers, who had been agood friend to her mother and herself.
But if Mabel was a child of so little principle as to do a thing likethis, it was best to send her away at once, she thought; and thereseemed too much reason to fear that it was so.
However, she said nothing of all this to Belle, and when the oldcolored woman began again, gently stopped her, saying,--
"That will do, Daphne: we will not say any more about this. Belle, mydear, open your desk and let us search again."
Of course the desk was searched in vain, and not only the desk, butthe whole school-room; Miss Ashton faintly hoping that Belle mightaccidentally have pulled the locket out and dropped it on the floor.
Meanwhile the bell had rung to call the older girls back to theirclass; and Mrs. Ashton, hearing the story from them, came also to Belleto
make some inquiries. This was a serious matter, the disappearanceof a valuable thing from the desk of one of her little scholars, andneeded to be thoroughly sifted. But as soon as she appeared, Belle wasseized with that unfortunate dread of the elder lady which possessedall the little girls; and she thought what would become of Mabel ifMrs. Ashton, too, believed her to be a "thief." Visions of squads ofpolicemen, prisons and chains, danced before her mind's eye; and herimagination, almost as quick and fertile as Maggie Bradford's, picturedher cousin dragged away by Mrs. Ashton's orders, while the rest of thefamily were plunged in the deepest grief and disgrace.
So it was but little satisfaction that Mrs. Ashton gained from her, inreply to her questions. Not so Daphne, however; finding that her younglady gave such short and low answers as could scarcely be understood,she once more poured forth her opinions till again ordered to stop.
However, there was one opinion in which all were forced to agree;namely, that the locket was certainly gone. Belle's sobs were quietedat last, save when a long, heavy sigh struggled up now and then; buther face wore a piteous, grieved look which it went to Miss Ashton'sheart to see. With her own hands, she put on the child's hat andsacque, petting her tenderly and assuring her that she would leave nomeans untried to discover her lost treasure; and then Belle went homewith her nurse.
Daphne stalked with her charge at once to Mrs. Walton's room; and,forgetting her usual good manners, threw open the door withoutknocking, and standing upon the threshold proclaimed,--
"Miss Walton, Miss Belle's locket am clean gone, chain an' all; an' deLord will sure foller wid His judgment on dem what's robbed a moderlesschile."
Her words were addressed to Mrs. Walton; but her eyes were fastenedon Mabel, who shrank from both look and words, knowing full well thatDaphne suspected her of being the guilty one.
Mrs. Walton held out her hand kindly to Belle.
"Come here, darling," she said, "and tell me all about it. Your locketgone? How is that?"
Belle told her story in as few words as possible, avoiding any mentionof Mabel's naughtiness in school that morning, or of the threats shehad used about the locket. She did not even look at Mabel as she spoke,for all the way home the dear little soul had been contriving how shemight act and speak so as not to let Mabel see that she had any doubtof her.
"'Cause maybe she didn't take it," she said to herself: "it isn'ta _very_ maybe, but it's a little maybe; and I would be sorry ifI b'lieved she took it and then knew she didn't; and she might beoffended with me for ever and ever if I thought she was a thief."
But the puzzle had been great in Belle's mind; for she thought, "If shetook it for a pattern for the locket-man and not to keep it, I wonderif it wasn't somehow a little bit like stealing;" and she could nothelp the suspicion that Mabel had really done this.
Mrs. Walton was full of sympathy and pity, and asked more questionsthan Belle felt able or willing to answer; but it never entered hermind to suspect her own child.
And, indeed, with all her sad, naughty ways, she had never known Mabelto tell a wilful falsehood, or to take that which did not belong toher in a deceitful, thievish manner. She would, it is true, insist thatthe thing she desired should be given to her, and often snatch and pullat that which was another's, or boldly help herself in defiance oforders to the contrary; but to do this in a secret way, to be in theleast degree dishonest or false, such a thing would have seemed quiteimpossible to Mrs. Walton.
"Can it be that one of your little class-mates is so very wicked?" shesaid. "Miss Ashton should see to this at once: it is almost impossiblethat she should not discover the thief if she makes proper efforts."
How did the words of her unsuspecting mother sound to the ears of theguilty little daughter who stood in the recess of the window, halfhidden by the curtains, but plainly hearing all that passed as shepretended to be playing with her dolls?
Would Miss Ashton find her out? Would it not be better to go at onceand confess?
And it was not only fear for herself which led Mabel to hesitate thus:she was really full of remorse and sorrow for the trouble which herwicked, selfish conduct had brought upon Belle; and as she saw howher forgiving little cousin avoided blaming her, these feelings grewstronger and stronger, till they almost overcame the selfishness whichruled her. But not quite; and she resolved to make amends to Belle insome other way.
She thought she was doing this, and showing great generosity, when shecame out of her corner, and said to her mother,--
"Mamma, please buy a very nice locket, and let Belle have it 'stead ofme. I'll give it up to her, 'cause hers is gone."
Whatever suspicions Belle might have had were at once put to flight bythis; but the offer had no charms for her. No other locket could takethe place of mamma's; and she shook her head sadly, as she said,--
"No, thank you, Mabel: I don't want any other locket to make up thatone. I couldn't wear it, indeed I couldn't."
The melancholy tone of her voice brought back all Mabel'sself-reproach, and of the two children she was perhaps really the mostunhappy; but still she could not resolve to confess, though Consciencewhispered that if she told what she had done, there might be morechance of finding the locket.
Had she not felt too much ashamed and unworthy of praise, she mighthave been consoled by all that her mother lavished upon her forher offer to Belle. Such unheard-of generosity on Mabel's part wassomething so new and delightful that Mrs. Walton could not sayenough in its praise; and both she and Mr. Walton began to hope thatcompanionship with other children, and Belle's good example, werereally doing her good. Little did they think what was the true cause ofthe proposed self-denial, or of Mabel's evident low spirits.
When Mr. Powers came home, he was almost as much disturbed as Belleto hear of the fate of her locket; and when she had gone to rest thatevening, he went to see Miss Ashton to ask if she could take no stepsfor its recovery.
He was very grave and silent when he came back; and neither thatevening nor the next morning did he have much to say concerning it,save that he comforted his little daughter by telling her that he hadgood hope it would be found.