IV.
_SUNLIGHT._
Things were no better the next morning.
Mrs. Walton did not come down to breakfast, but Mabel chose to go withher uncle and cousin. She was in a better humor than she had been thenight before, and would willingly have made friends with Belle if thelatter would have allowed her to do so. She was less unruly and wilfulat the table also; for after the way in which her uncle had compelledher to obey last night, she was a little afraid of him, and had an ideathat he would not allow her to have her own way in the manner her papaand mamma did. She did not like him the less for that though, and whenshe asked for one or two things which he did not think proper for her,submitted quietly to his refusal, and took what he offered instead.As for Belle, she not only would not speak to her cousin beyond theunwilling "good-morning" which she uttered by her father's orders, butshe would not appear to be conscious of her presence at all; neverlifting her eyes to her, and if she was forced to turn her face thatway, making a pretence of looking over Mabel's head or beyond her. Andwhen they returned to their own parlor, where Mrs. Walton now sat,Belle gathered every toy, book, or other trifle that belonged to her,put them in a closet given for her use, and with some difficulty turnedthe key and took it out; then planted herself with her back againstthe door, as if she thought the lock not enough to keep Mabel's handsfrom her treasures, standing there with a look of the most determinedobstinacy and sullenness.
Such behavior was not at all like Belle, and her papa scarcely knewwhat to make of it. Even in her most wilful days she had never shownherself selfish or sulky; and knowing that she now felt herselfaggrieved and injured by Mabel's presence, and fearing to excite freshjealousy, he did not know how to deal with her.
As for the little girl herself,--no matter how much of all this hadbeen caused by old Daphne,--Belle knew well that she was very naughty;but she determined to persist in that naughtiness so long as Mabelshould be there.
To describe Daphne's high-mightiness, not only with Mabel and theFrench nurse, but also with Mrs. Walton, would be impossible. Shecarried her turban so straight, and moved and spoke so stiffly, thatshe almost awed even her little mistress; and Mabel was quite afraid ofher. Nor would she give any help or information to the French woman,pretending not to understand her English, which, although broken, wasplain enough.
"'Dere ain't no use yer talkin' to me," she said. "I don't unnerstan'yer, nor I ain't goin' to. I'se allus been fetched up 'mong dePeytons,--Miss Belle's mamma she was a Peyton,--an' I'se used tofust-rate English; an' me an' Miss Belle we allus uses it, and nebercan unnerstan' no low talk. 'Sides, I'm deaf as a post dis mornin' andcan't hear no way."
Daphne was troubled with a convenient kind of deafness, which alwayscame on when she did not wish to hear a thing.
So Mr. Powers, knowing that both Belle and Daphne must be brought totheir senses and to better behavior, but not seeing exactly the way todo it without making matters worse, betook himself to his good friendMrs. Bradford to ask advice.
"What am I to do?" he said when he had finished his story: "if I punishBelle or reprove Daphne, they are in such a state of mind that it willgive fresh food for jealousy and bad feeling to both; and yet I cannotlet this go on."
"Certainly not," said Mrs. Bradford; "but before we try punishment orreproof, let us see what a little management and kindness will do.Suppose you send Belle, and, if Mrs. Walton will allow it, Mabel withher, to spend the day with my children."
"My sister will allow any thing the child fancies, I fear," thegentleman answered with a sigh; "but you do not know what you areundertaking. A more ungovernable and ungoverned child than mylittle niece would be hard to find; and I fear that neither you noryour children would pass a pleasant day with Belle and Mabel here,especially if Belle continues in her present mood."
"I do not fear that she will," said Mrs. Bradford. "Maggie and Bessiebeing of her own age, and having a great sympathy for her, may be ableto do more in their simple way to charm the evil spirit than we olderpeople can. As for Mabel, if she will come, she will be under somerestraint here, as we are all strangers to her."
"Ah! you do not know her," said Mr. Powers. "I was a stranger to heruntil yesterday, and yet"--his look and the shrug of his shouldersspoke as strongly as the unfinished sentence could have done.
"Never mind: send her," said the lady. "I will not let her annoy theother children or me _too_ much, and I may do her some good."
"Yes," said he, gratefully: "I know that you and yours never shrinkfrom doing good to others because the task may not be an agreeable one.But do you mean to keep a house of correction, or, I should say, ofgood influences, for all incorrigibly spoiled children?"
"Not exactly," said Mrs. Bradford, returning his smile; "and I believeI have our little Belle more than Mabel in my mind just now; but letthem both come, and we will see if we cannot send them back to you thisevening in better and happier moods."
Repeating his thanks, Mr. Powers bade her good-by and went home; wherehe found that Belle had quitted her stand at the closet-door, Mabelhaving gone out. For when the latter found that she was not to beallowed to have her cousin's toys, she raised such an uproar as soon asher uncle was out of the way, that her mother promised her every thingand any thing she chose, and had sent her out with the maid to purchaseall manner of playthings.
Belle was glad to hear that she was to go to the Bradfords'; andeven when she learned that Mabel was to accompany her, she stillfelt a satisfaction in it, because she was sure that the childrenwould sympathize with her, and be as "offended" with Mabel as she washerself. She was wild to go at once, without waiting for her cousin;and her papa consented that she should do so, hoping that Mrs. Bradfordand the children would bring her to a better state of feeling beforeMabel made her appearance.
Somewhat to Belle's surprise she found Bessie rather more ready thanMaggie to resent her supposed injuries. Bessie did not, it is true,encourage her in her naughty feelings, or in returning evil for evil;but she had been so shocked by Mabel's behavior on the day before, thatshe could not wonder at Belle's dislike. Moreover, Bessie was a littleinclined to jealousy herself; and although she struggled hard with thisfeeling, and showed it but seldom, she was now ready to excuse it, andfind just cause for it, in Belle.
But Maggie was disposed to look at things in a more reasonable light,and to make the best of them.
"Why, Belle," she said, cheerily, "I should think you'd be glad, 'causenow you can be a sunbeam to your cousin, and try to do her good."
"I guess I shan't be a sunbeam to her," said Belle. "I'd be nothing butan ugly, old black cloud, what blows a great deal and has thunder andlightning out of it; and it's just good enough for her."
And at that moment, indeed, little Belle looked much more like athunder-cloud than like a sunbeam.
"I just can't bear her. I b'lieve I just hate her, and I'm going to doit too," she continued.
"But that is naughty," said Bessie.
"I don't care: it is truf," said Belle. "I can say the truf, can't I?"
"Well, yes," answered Bessie, "when it's the good truth; but if it's anaughty truth, it's better to keep it in."
"What did Mabel do to you to make you so mad?" asked Maggie.
"Why, she--she"--and Belle hesitated a little, rather ashamed ofherself now, as she found how small cause of complaint she reallyhad--"why, she took my things when I didn't say she might. She wantedmy carved animals too, what Uncle Ruthven gave me; but papa didn't lether have them, and I wouldn't either. I put them away, and wouldn't lether look at them,--no, not one tiny little peek."
"But, Belle, dear, you don't be selfish with your things gen'ally,"said Bessie. "Why won't you even let Mabel see them?"
"'Cause she's too spoiled;" said Belle; "and I b'lieve she'd just goand break them all up. I don't _know_ she would, but I b'lieve shewould."
"But we oughtn't to b'lieve bad things about people if we don't know'em," persisted Bessie.
"I shan't let her have my things,
anyhow," replied Belle; "and I'mgoing to try and have her put out of the country too."
"How can you?" said Maggie. "They have a right to stay here if theywant to."
"I'll coax papa to write a letter to the President and ask him toturn out Mabel and her mamma," said Belle; "and I'm going to be veryexcitable and nervous, so he'll do any thing I want him to."
Maggie had her doubts as to the President's power in such a matter;but she did not make them known, thinking it better to try and sootheBelle's angry feelings, like the wise little peacemaker that she was.
"But I think that we ought to be sorry for your aunt and Mabel, and tohave very excusable feelings towards them," she said. "You know theyhave not had so many advantages as we have, because they have livedabroad for a good many years; and probably they have been corrupted bythe fashionable world of Paris."
This was an uncommonly fine speech, even for Maggie; and Bessie andBelle were struck quite dumb by it, and for a moment could do nothingbut exchange looks and nods of admiration and wonder; while Maggie,conscious that she deserved their approval, not only for the sentiment,but also for the manner in which it had been expressed, sat gazingserenely out of the window as she received the honors which were due toher.
"Yes, I s'pose so," said Bessie, with a long breath, as she recovered alittle.
"I s'pose so too," repeated Belle, in a more amiable tone than she hadyet used.
"You see," continued Maggie, thinking it well to strengthen the goodimpression she had made, and speaking with all the solemn gravity whichbefitted one who had just uttered such sublime words,--"you see weought not to be too hard on Mabel, because she is so very saucy anddisobedient to her mother that I expect she is one of those to whom theravens of the valley shall pick out her eye and the young eagles shalleat it. And, children, it is plainly to be seen that it is partly hermother's fault, which is a sad thing, and I fear she will have to bearthe consequences. So don't you think we ought to be kind to Mabel andtry if we cannot do her some good?"
"Yes," said Bessie, putting her arm about Belle's neck; "and, Belle,maybe when Jesus heard us say we wanted to be sunbeams for Him, He sentthis very disagreeable child to be your trial, so He could see if youwere quite in earnest about saying it."
This was quite a new view of the subject; and somehow, Belle scarcelyknew how, she began to feel more kindly towards her aunt and cousin,and even to have a feeling of pity for them. But the imaginary "sixdirty beggars" had taken such strong hold of her mind that she couldscarcely resolve all at once to take in their place this well-dressed,well-cared-for, but very naughty little cousin. Mabel could be goodand happy if she chose, and Belle did not see why she should be at anytrouble to make her so, since nothing but her own wilful humors stoodin the way. Still Maggie's words and those of Bessie had already hadsome influence upon her, and when she next spoke it was in a stillmilder tone.
"Why, Bessie," she said, "do you really think Jesus had Mabel and hermamma come here just so I could be a sunbeam to them and try to do themgood? I don't believe He did."
"Well, maybe He didn't send them here just for that," answered Bessie;"but when He did send them, I think He'd like you to make a littlesunshine for them."
"And then," said fanciful Maggie, always ready to catch at what shethought a poetical idea,--"and then, you know, when the sunshine comesthe clouds 'most always go away; so if we try to be very patient andkind with Mabel, maybe the clouds of her crossness and _obstinateness_will roll away and be seen no more."
It was impossible to hold out against such words of wisdom as came fromMaggie's lips; and Belle began to feel that here, after all, might bethe very opportunity she had wanted.
"And then that would make your aunt glad," persuaded Bessie; "and weare sorry for her."
"Um--m--m, well, I don't know about that," said Belle: "my aunt said athing about me,--a very disagreeable thing."
"What was it?"
"She said I wanted some kind of management. I forgot what kind. I don'tknow what word she called it, but it meant something horrid I know; andshe oughtn't to say I was spoiled when she spoils her own child."
"No," said Maggie: "people who live in glass houses oughtn't to throwstones; but I fear they generally do, for all."
"What does that mean?" asked Bessie.
"It means when we do a thing a good deal ourselves we oughtn't to speakabout other people who do it; but we are apt to."
"Well, then," said Belle, taking the maxim to herself, though Maggiehad not meant it for her, "I s'pose if I used to be spoiled myself, Ioughtn't to talk so much about my cousin who is."
"But you was never like _that_," said Bessie.
"I used to be pretty spoiled sometimes, and yesterday I was--ugh--I washorrid," answered Belle, a sense of her own past naughtiness comingover her.
"What did you do?" asked Bessie.
"I screamed and hollered--and--and I kicked. I shouldn't be s'prised ifmy aunt thought I was as naughty as Mabel."
"She that repents ought to make haste to show her repentance," saidMaggie. "That is a new proverb I made up on purpose for you, Belle,'cause I thought it suited you."
"Oh! thank you, Maggie," said Belle: "then I'll do it."
And so our three little girls resolved that they would at least meetMabel kindly and politely; and as far as possible put the remembranceof her past ill-behavior from their minds.