XIII.
_MABEL'S GENEROSITY._
It would be impossible to tell how troubled and disturbed poor Mrs.Walton was by Miss Ashton's story. So was Mr. Walton when he camehome and heard it. It was hard to think that their own and only childcould be guilty of such a thing; and yet suspicion pointed so stronglytowards her that it was almost impossible to believe otherwise. Theytalked it over between themselves, and with Mr. Powers when he came;and then the children were called, and told to repeat all they knewonce more.
Mabel's story was in no way different from that she had told before,save that it was given with far less hesitation and difficulty, but inno other respect did it vary from the first; and here was ground forhope that it was true.
Belle, too, told her tale with the same straightforwardness andsimplicity that she had done before, but it threw no light on what wasso dark; and, as she had done from the first, she carefully avoidedthrowing any blame on her cousin, and concluded in these words, utteredin a pleading voice:--
"Please, papa, and uncle, and Aunt Fanny, don't believe Mabel took mylocket to keep: I don't believe she did, not one bit; and I don't wantany one else to think she did."
"Why do you think she did not, dear?" asked Mr. Walton.
"First I _tried_ not to think she did," said Belle; "and then when Itold her Jesus knew if she was telling the truf, she was glad, and feltbetter about it, so that made me quite sure. If she had hidden it onpurpose to keep it, she would be afraid if she thought Jesus knew it."
Her words brought great comfort and new hope to the father and mother.
"Let's all think she didn't do it, unless we have to be very, verysure she did; and please kiss her, and make up with her, Aunt Fanny,'cause she feels so bad about it," persisted Belle, drawing her cousinforward, as she stood hanging her head, half-sullen, half-shamefaced,and sorrowful at the suspicion she felt cast upon her. "Aunt Fanny, ifI had my own mamma here with me, I would feel very dreadful to knowshe thought I hid something to steal it, and told ever so many storiesabout it."
Who could resist her?
Not the mother certainly! who, only too glad to believe her childinnocent of more than she had acknowledged, put her arms about her andgave her a kiss of forgiveness; while Mabel laid her head against hermamma's shoulder, and cried there such gentle, penitent tears as shehad seldom shed before. For the sweeter and kinder Belle was to her,the more deeply repentant she felt for the wrong she had really doneher. And not for the matter of the locket alone did she sorrow: sheremembered and felt remorseful for many another selfish, unkind act andspeech, and she could not but contrast with shame her cousin's conductwith her own.
"Dear, little Belle!" said her uncle: "hers is the charity that'thinketh no evil.'"
Mr. Walton said this, knowing nothing of the rules by which Belle hadlately tried to govern her behavior to Mabel as well as to others.
"Yes," said Mr. Powers, drawing his little daughter fondly towards him,and kissing her forehead,--"yes, I believe Belle is really trying forthat charity which may keep us in love and peace with God and man."
"Papa," whispered Belle, with her arms about his neck, "it used to bereal hard not to think Mabel was the spoildest, worst child that everlived, and that would do all kinds of bad things; and now I don't liketo think that about her, or to have other people think so. Is that'cause I tried to have love-charity for her? Bessie said it was when Itold her."
"Yes, darling, I think so."
"And, papa, Maggie said one of her nice, pleasant-sounding things. Shesaid when we were like sunbeams ourselves it made things look brightand good that would look ugly and dark if we were not nice and brightourselves. Maggie makes sunniness and shinyness herself, and so doesBessie; and they try all they can to think people wouldn't do badthings."
After the children had been dismissed for the night, there was somediscussion between their parents whether or no it would be better forMabel to go to school till the mystery was cleared up; but it was atlast decided that there should be no change, and she should go asusual.
"If she will," said Mrs. Walton, to which her husband replied,--
"I think, my dear, it is time that Mabel was learning to do what she_must_, and not what she _will_. I fear we have ourselves to blamefor much of this trouble, which has arisen from the wilfulness andselfishness we have too long overlooked."
But Mabel was so subdued by her trouble, and by her sorrow for her pastmisconduct to Belle, that she offered no resistance to going to schoolthe next day, further than to say she did not want to go.
"Oh, yes, dear!" said her father: "there is no reason why you shouldnot."
"I'm afraid the children won't believe me about Belle's locket," shewhispered; "and they'll look at me."
"But if you stay away it would seem as if you were really guilty," saidMr. Walton. "I do not think your school-mates will be unkind to you;and if they are, you must bear it as a part of the punishment for yournaughtiness to Belle. Mamma and I think it better you should go. If youare innocent, you need not be afraid."
And Mabel, quite broken-spirited, submitted without any of the loudoutcries with which she usually met any opposition to her wishes.
"I know that they'll all be mad at me, and point at me, and everything," she sobbed, as she started for school with Belle and the twonurses.
"If any of them are so bad to you, I will tell them to have'love-charity;' and if they don't, I won't be friends with them anymore, but be very offended with them indeed," said Belle, forgettingthat her new rule could work more ways than one, and hold good forothers than Mabel. Just now she was so full of forgiving pity andsympathy for her cousin that she thought only of helping her and doingbattle in her behalf.
Mabel's fears were well founded, as it proved. She was met with looksaskance, and cold words; while Belle was greeted with a more thanusual share of affection. And Dora Johnson, who was not very carefulof other people's feelings, and was apt to say rather rude and unkindthings without much thought, said in a whisper, loud enough for Mabelto hear,--
"Before I'd come to school if I was a locket-thief!"
Belle heard this too, and at once fired up in Mabel's defence.
"Before I would too, and before Mabel would!" she said, her bright eyesflashing with indignation as she took her cousin's hand in a protectingmanner; "and because she isn't a thief is the reason she comes; and sheonly took it out of my desk to look at, and didn't mean to steal it abit. But somebody else must have: I don't know who. And if everybodydon't be friends with her, they needn't be friends with me either; andI won't have 'em, but will be awfully mad with 'em."
Belle's speech was not perhaps very coherent; but it was understoodby all, and had its effect. For since _she_ believed that Mabel hadnot the locket, the rest thought that she must have some good reasonfor her faith; and no more was said in words, though poor Mabel couldnot but feel that she was curiously and suspiciously gazed at by everychild in the school, as if they expected to read her guilt or innocencewritten on her face. Still, on the whole, matters were not so badas she had feared they would be. Miss Ashton was as kind and gentleas usual, and, like her own family, seemed to wish to believe herinnocent till she was proved guilty; while Belle was more affectionateand patronizing than she had ever been before, and returned withreproachful or defiant looks every cold or scornful glance that fell toMabel's share. The search of the cloak-room for the missing treasurehad proved quite fruitless. Miss Ashton had taken the trouble to haveevery thing moved from the room, the floor had been thoroughly swept,and even the corners and edges of the carpet turned up; but all invain. There was no trace of the lost locket; and Miss Ashton and hermother had decided that they could only wait and see what time woulddo. Whoever had taken it, such a thing could not remain long hidden: itmust be discovered and brought home to the guilty child.
So Miss Ashton told Mrs. Walton when she called to see her again onthis unhappy matter; and she would not say, though she gave Mabel thebenefit of the doubt, that in her heart s
he believed her to be thatchild; and the mother could only hope and pray that it might not be so.
Still it was a most uncomfortable and unhappy matter. Such a thing hadnever happened before in the little school; and it was sad to believethat there was a thief among that young group.
But good was brought out of all this discomfort and unhappiness. Thechange in Mabel was surprising as well as encouraging. She clung toBelle, and to Belle's faith in her, in a way that was really touching,and which went far to convince her friends and teacher that she wasreally innocent of more than she had confessed. And, contrary to herusual custom, she did not try to excuse herself for what she had done,but was truly penitent, and ready to acknowledge that this trouble hadarisen from her own fault. If Belle would have taken them, she wouldhave thrust upon her all her own possessions; and now whenever she sawa pretty thing, she wanted it, not for herself, but for Belle, andwas constantly begging her papa and mamma to buy this, that, and theother for her little cousin. And as she became more and more unselfishand yielding towards Belle, she became so towards others, and moreobedient and docile to her parents; till the self-willed, outrageous,spoiled elf seemed really changing and quieting down into a tolerablywell-behaved, reasonable little child.
That she was really repentant and desirous to make amends to Belle,she showed in a very decided manner when her birthday came around, asit did about three weeks after the loss of the locket.
At this time her Grandmamma Walton was accustomed to send her two goldhalf-eagles; a large sum for a child like Mabel, and which the old ladyprobably supposed was put away with care, or used to some good purpose.But hitherto it had always been frittered away in toys, candies, and soforth, Mabel claiming such and such portions of it to spend when sometrifle struck her fancy.
At the time the locket was first lost, her mother had told her that itwould be a good thing if she should spend the money which would come onher next birthday on a new one for Belle; and Mabel had readily agreed.But Mr. Walton, knowing nothing of her good intentions, had bought ahandsome locket, and given it to Belle to take the place, as far asmight be, of the one which was gone. Belle had thanked him prettily,and admired the gift; then gave it to Daphne to put away.
"Where I can't see it, Daffy, 'cause it makes me feel like crying whenI think it was not a bit my own mamma's like that other one I lost."
It was in vain that Daphne tried to persuade her to wear it: the childseemed to have a half romantic, but touching sensitiveness on thesubject, which could not be overcome.
But Belle now having her uncle's gift, Mrs. Walton told Mabel thatshe could spend the money in some other way to gratify her cousin;and Mabel thought of first one thing, then another, which she couldpurchase for Belle.
But she had not yet decided upon any thing when her birthday came,and with it the usual gift from her grandmother. Running into Belle'snursery on that morning, she found her little cousin standing by theside of old Daphne, who, with her hands over her face, was rockingherself to and fro, moaning and crying, while Belle seemed to betrying to comfort her. Near by stood another colored woman, lookingtroubled also, though not in the deep distress which Daphne showed.In Daphne's lap laid the contents of Belle's little purse andmoney-box,--pennies, five and ten cent pieces, and so forth.
Mabel stood a moment in wonder at this unusual state of affairs; andthen, full of the business which had brought her, broke forth with,--
"Belle! Belle! Make Daphne dress you very quick. Papa is going to takeus out to buy something very nice for you with a whole lot of moneygrandmamma sent me; and then he is going to take us for a nice longdrive in the Park, and let us run about and feed the swans and see theanimals. Make haste! make haste!"
Belle shook her head sorrowfully.
"I can't leave Daphne, Mabel," she said. "She has a great trouble.Somebody went and did something naughty, and the people thought itwas Daphne's boy,"--Daphne's boy was her grandson,--"and they've takenhim to prison; but this woman knew it wasn't him, and they say he cancome out if he can get a whole lot of money; and this woman came totell Daphne; but she hasn't money enough, and I haven't either, andpapa has gone away to Philadelphia, and won't come back till day afterto-morrow; and what can we do?" and Belle's eyes filled, as she toldthe story of her old nurse's trouble.
"And won't you come?" said Mabel.
"No, thank you, Mabel: I couldn't."
"Now go, and take yer pleasure, my honey," said Daphne, ever-mindful ofher little lady's happiness. "I'll make you ready."
"No, no, Daffy: I couldn't leave you. Oh! I do wish papa was home. Hewould fix it all, and get poor Peter out of prison. You are real good,Mabel; but I couldn't care much about the very prettiest present if Ihad to leave Daphne all alone when she is so sorry."
Mabel hesitated, and thought of those two bright golden pieces. Herewas a chance to give Belle a real pleasure, if she chose. She knewBelle well enough to feel sure that she would far rather help her oldnurse out of this trouble than to have the most beautiful gift forherself; and Mabel believed that any thing might be done with that sumof money, which was her own to spend as she pleased.
But, as we know, Mabel and Daphne had never been, and were not yet, thebest of friends; and it was partly Daphne's fault too. She had no faithin Mabel's improvement, and watched with disdainful and unbelievingeyes her little attempts to be less selfish and wilful. And Mabel knewthis, and returned the old woman's dislike with all her little might.So how could she resolve to give up her cherished plan for Daphne'srelief? To be sure, it would give Belle more pleasure, but it wouldgive far less to herself; and, indeed, she was not quite sure that shedid not feel just the least satisfaction in Daphne's trouble.
"It serves her right for being so cross to me all the time," she saidto herself; but then came a feeling of shame at the unkind thought, andshe was glad that Belle did not know of it.
"Belle would give the money if it was hers, to get Peter out of prison,I know," she thought, nothing doubting that the two half-eagles coulddo this; "and maybe it would be the best way to show her I do love her,and am sorry for being so naughty to her about the locket. I'll just doit; but I better do it pretty quick or I'll change my mind about it,'cause I don't want to one bit."
She rushed from the room, leaving Belle to think that she was vexed ather refusal to go out with her; but in two minutes she was back withthe gold pieces, which she thrust into Belle's hand, saying,--
"There, Belle, if you would rather take that black boy out of prisonthan have a pretty present for you and me to play with, you may. I willgive you my money for it; but I don't do it 'cause I love Daphne, notone bit."
It was not a very gracious way of bestowing a favor, it was true; butit was such a piece of unwonted self-denial from Mabel that her hearerswere all taken by surprise, and did not know what to say. Belle stoodwith the gold pieces in her open hand, looking from them to Mabel, andthen at Daphne, who was looking amazed and bewildered in her turn.
But now Mrs. Walton appeared.
When Mabel had run back to her mamma's room for her half-eagles, asshe took them from her box she told some incoherent story, which Mrs.Walton had not understood, but which speedily brought her after herlittle girl to see what was to be the fate of the money. There was noknowing what freak might have taken the child.
"I want Belle to take those to bring Daphne's black boy out ofprison, mamma; and she seems as if she didn't want to," said Mabel,half-pouting.
Then Daphne understood; and, rising, courtesied to Mrs. Walton, andtold her story; ending by saying that she had not known what Miss Mabelmeant, and she begged Mrs. Walton's pardon, and she had not thought oftaking the child's money: "Bress her heart! an' I didn't desarve it,cos I did take such a scunner at her."
Mrs. Walton seized Mabel in her arms, and covered her with kisses;while she lavished upon her the most extravagant words of praise andadmiration. Mabel had expected this when her mother should come tohear of her offer to Daphne; and, more than this, she had been fartherhelped to
make it by the belief that her mother would not let her be aloser.
"But you shall not spend your birthday gift for that, my darling," shesaid: "perhaps papa can see to it until Uncle Frederick comes home. Wewill go and ask him, and tell him what a good, generous girl you are."
Far wiser would it have been if Mrs. Walton had let Mabel learn todo good to others by making some sacrifice of her own wishes; but shecould not bear to have her darling deprived of the slightest pleasure,on this day of all others. So bidding Daphne take heart till she shouldsee what Mr. Walton said, she took both children with her to tell himthe story.
Mr. Walton listened, and then kindly said he would go and find out thetruth of the case at once; and if he thought it right, he would givebail for the lad, for that was what was needed.
"But," he said, "if I do this, I should go at once, that Daphne and herboy may not be kept in misery longer than is necessary; and then mylittle girls must lose their promised morning in the Park. The promisewas made to you first: are you both willing to give up this pleasurefor Daphne's sake?"
There was no doubt about Belle; but, as Mr. Walton added, "it wasMabel's birthday, and she must decide."
Now indeed Mabel's generosity and self denial were put to the proof,certainly far more than Belle's. The latter loved her faithful oldnurse too dearly to hesitate for one instant; and, even had it not beenso, the sacrifice was by no means so great for her as for Mabel. ThePark with all its attractions was no new thing to Belle: many a driveand ramble had she had there; but to Mabel, who was a stranger in thecity, it was not so familiar, and had not yet lost its first charm forher. And she had been so delighted with the thought of passing themorning there! How could she give it up for Daphne?
Her father waited for her answer, and would not let his wife speakwhen she would have proposed some other plan; Belle watched her withwistful eyes; and she could not make up her mind to the sacrifice. Shehesitated, pouted, frowned; and there were all the signs of a comingstorm.
"Very well," said her father, gravely. "I had hoped that my Mabel wasreally learning to care a little for others, but I fear it is notso. It must be as she decides. We will go for our pleasure, leavingDaphne's boy to stay another day in prison, for I have other businessto attend to later in the day; or we will give up this little treat tosave her and him much suffering. Which shall it be, Mabel?"
"I said she could have my birthday money," whimpered Mabel; "and mammasaid I was as generous as any thing."
"Ah! it did not cost you much to give up the money, my child," said herfather. "You and Belle have more toys and pretty things now than youknow what to do with; but you are not generous enough to give up thaton which you have really set your heart."
Mabel looked over at Belle once more, and as she met the beseechinglook in her eyes remembered that here was really the chance to show hercousin that she wished to make up for her past unkindness.
She dropped the pocket-handkerchief which she was pettishly twistinginto a string, lowered her raised shoulders, and running to Bellethrew her arms about her neck, and said,--
"We'll give up the Park, and let papa go to let out Peter, Belle,--sowe will. I'll be generous, even if I don't want to."
So it was settled, and Mr. Walton went on his errand of mercy; of whichI need say no more than that it was successful, and Peter set free, tothe joy of Belle and Daphne.