CHAPTER IX.
MORAL COURAGE.
Annie Lovejoy had not been gone fifteen minutes, when there was a sharpringing of Mrs. Parlin's doorbell, and a little boy gave Norah the redscarf of Susy's, and a note for Mrs. Parlin.
Norah suspected they both came from Mrs. Lovejoy, and she could see thatlady from the opposite window, looking toward the house with a verydefiant expression.
Mrs. Parlin opened the note with some surprise, for she had beenengaged with visitors in the parlor, and did not know what had beengoing on up stairs.
Whatever Mrs. Lovejoy's other accomplishments might be, she could notwrite very elegantly. The ink was hardly dry, and the words were badlyblotted, as well as incorrectly spelled.
"Mrs. Parlin.
"Madam: If my own _doughter_ is a _theif_ and a _lier_, I beg to be informed. She has no _knowlidg_ of the cake, _whitch_ was so _dryed_ up, a _begar woold_ not touch it. Will Miss Susan Parlin come over here, and take back her words?
"SERENA LOVEJOY."
Mrs. Parlin was at a loss to understand this, for she had quiteforgotten the fact, that the children had any cake to use at their playof housekeeping. She supposed that Susy must have accused Annie ofprying into the china-closet, where the cakes and jellies were kept. Shesent for Susy at once.
"My daughter," said she, in her usual quiet tones, "did you ever haveany reason to suppose that Annie Lovejoy went about meddling with ourthings, and peeping into the closets?"
"Why, no, mother," replied Susy, much surprised; "she never saw theclosets, that I know of. Why, mother, what do you mean?"
"Never ate cake, did she, without leave?"
"O, now I know what you mean, mother! Yes'm, she ate some of thatfruit-cake you gave us to play with; and when I told her of it, she gotangry, and said she was going right home, and would tell her mother howI treated my company; but I don't see how you found that out!"
"Never mind yet how I found it out, my dear. I want to know if you aresure that Annie ate the cake?"
"Yes, mother: just as certain sure as I can be! You know Dotty can'treach that high shelf in the nursery-closet, and I can't, withoutgetting into a chair; and Prudy can't walk a step; and Flossy despisescake."
"But," said Mrs. Parlin, smiling, "I don't see that you have provedAnnie to be the guilty one."
"Guilty? O, I don't know as she is _guilty_, mamma; but she ate thecake! She ate it right before my face and eyes; but I told her it wasjust as well, she was perfectly welcome, and tried to be as polite as ifshe was a grown-up lady, mother. But, O, dear, it didn't make a speck ofdifference how much I said; for the more I said, the more angry shegrew, and I couldn't make her believe I didn't think she was a thief anda liar! Only think, a thief and a liar! But I never said those words atall, mother!"
"Very well, my dear; I am sure you did not. It is a great comfort tome, Susy, that I can always rely on your word. You have done nothingwrong, and need not be unhappy; but Mrs. Lovejoy sends for you to goover and tell her just what you mean about the cake; are you willing togo?"
Susy was not willing; indeed, she was very much frightened, and beggedher mother to excuse her in some way to Mrs. Lovejoy, or, if that wouldnot do, to go herself and explain the matter for her.
But, as it was Susy's own affair, Mrs. Parlin wished to have as littleto do with it as possible. Besides, she considered it a good opportunityto teach Susy a lesson in moral courage.
Susy started very reluctantly.
"I'm afraid Mrs. Lovejoy will scold real sharp," said she. "What shall Ido? O, mother, I didn't see Annie eat _all_ the cake; I didn't watch.How do I know but she gave some crumbs to the cat? Can't I--can't I say,I _guess_ the cat ate it?"
"Susy!" said Mrs. Parlin, sternly, "are you more afraid of displeasingMrs. Lovejoy than you are of displeasing God? All that is required ofyou is the simple truth. Merely say to Annie's mother just what you havesaid to me; that you saw Annie eating cake several times, though therewas no harm in it, and you did _not_ call her either a thief or a liar.Speak respectfully, but decidedly; and when you have said all that isnecessary, leave her politely, and come home."
Susy called up all her courage when she entered Mrs. Lovejoy's house,and saw that lady sitting very erect on a sofa, with a bleak face, whichlooked somehow as if a north-east wind had blown over it, and frozen it.
"Well, little girl," said she, without waiting for ceremony, "so youcall my Annie all the bad names you can think of, it seems. Is that theway you are brought up?"
"I didn't call her names, ma'am; she ate the cake, but I was willing,"replied Susy, calmly and respectfully, though she trembled from head tofoot. There was one thought which sustained Susy; she was telling thetruth, and that was just what God wanted her to do.
"Well," said Mrs. Lovejoy, "I must say you're a dignified little piece!Do you know you've done the same thing as to tell me I lie?"
This was just the way _Annie_ had spoken; warping innocent words, andmaking them the occasion of a quarrel.
Susy could think of nothing which seemed exactly right to say to Mrs.Lovejoy in reply; so she wisely held her peace.
"Yes, miss, you've insulted my child, and, as if that were not enough,you come over here, deliberately, and insult _me_, in my own house!"
Tears sprang to Susy's eyes, but she resolutely crushed them back.There was, in her childish mind, a certain sense of self-respect, whichmade her unwilling to cry in the presence of such a person as Mrs.Lovejoy. She felt instinctively that the woman was not a lady. Susy wastoo young to reason about the matter; but she was quite sure her ownmother was a model of good manners; and never, never had she known hermother to raise her voice to such a high key, or speak such angry words!
Mrs. Lovejoy said a great many things which were both severe and unjust;but Susy managed to keep up a respectful manner, as her mother haddirected. Mrs. Lovejoy was disappointed. She had expected Susy wouldquail before her presence and make the most humble confessions.
"I always knew," cried Mrs. Lovejoy, becoming more and moreexasperated,--"I always knew Mrs. Parlin held her head pretty high! Sheis a proud, stuck-up woman, your mother is; she has taught you to lookdown on my little girl! O, yes, I understand the whole story! You're abeautiful family for neighbors!"
Poor Susy was fairly bewildered.
"Now you may go home as straight as you can go! But remember one thing:never, while we live in this city, shall my daughter Annie darken yourdoors again!"
Susy walked home with downcast head and overflowing eyes. Her heart wasvery heavy, for she felt she had been disgraced for life, and couldnever be respected any more. Here was a trial so terrible that it causedthe death of little Dandy to seem almost a trifle by comparison.
It was strange, Susy thought, how people could live through such severetroubles as had fallen to her lot to-day. She was a little girl of quickand sensitive feelings, and a sharp word always wounded her more than ablow. How that angry woman had talked about her mother!
Susy decided, upon the whole, that this was the sting--this was the "pinin the lash," which had hurt her more than the lash. How _dared_ Mrs.Lovejoy say a word about her own mother, who was certainly the bestwoman that ever lived, always excepting the good people in the Bible!
By the time she entered the house, her indignation had risen like ablaze, and burned away all her tears. But should she tell her motherwhat Mrs. Lovejoy had said about her ownself, about her being "stuckup," and holding her head pretty high? Susy could not decide whether sheought to tell her, and risk the danger of almost breaking her heart! Butbefore she had time to decide, she had poured out the whole story in atorrent.
Strange to say, Mrs. Parlin listened with perfect calmness, and evensaid, when Susy had finished,--
"Very well, my dear; now you may go and hang up your hood and cloak."
"But, mother," said Susy, rushing up stairs again, quite out of breath,"now I've taken care of my things; but did you understand what I said,mother? Annie will never come
into this house, never again! Her motherforbids it!"
"That is quite fortunate for me, Susy, as it saves me the trouble offorbidding it myself!"
"Why, mother, you wouldn't do such a thing as that! Why, mother, I neverheard of your doing such a thing in my life!"
"I should regret the necessity very much, my child; but wouldn't it bebetter, on the whole, to have a little moral courage, and put an end toall intercourse between the two families, than to live in a constantbroil?"
"Why, yes, mother, I suppose so."
Susy was beginning to feel more composed. She saw that her motherunderstood the whole story, yet her heart was far from being broken!
"What is moral courage, mother?"
"The courage to do right."
"Did I have moral courage when I told Mrs. Lovejoy the truth?"
"Yes, dear. It was hard for you, wasn't it? If it had been easy, therewould have been no moral courage about it."
"I am glad I had moral courage!" said Susy with animation. "I knew I didsomething _right_, but I didn't know what you called it."
"Now," continued Mrs. Parlin, "I have this very day been talking with alady, who once lived next door to Mrs. Lovejoy; and she tells me enoughabout her to convince me that she is not a person I wish for a neighbor.And I have heard enough about Annie, too, to feel very sure she is not asafe companion for my little daughter."
"But, mother," said Susy, "you are not--you don't feel 'stuck up' aboveMrs. Lovejoy?"
Mrs. Parlin smiled.
"That is not a very proper expression, Susy; but I think I do not feel_stuck-up_ above her in the least. I am only anxious that my littledaughter may not be injured by bad examples. I don't know what sort of alittle girl Annie might be with proper influences, but--"
"Now, mamma, I don't want to say anything improper," said Susy,earnestly; "but wouldn't it be the _piousest_ for me to play with Annie,and try to make her go to Sabbath school, and be better?"
Mrs. Parlin did not answer at once. She was thinking of what she hadsaid to Susy about people who are "home missionaries," and do a greatdeal of good by a beautiful example.
"If you were older, dear, it would be quite different. But, instead ofimproving Annie, who is a self-willed child, I fear you would only growworse yourself. She is bold, and you are rather timid. She wants tolead, and not to follow. I fear she will set you bad examples."
"I didn't know, mamma; but I thought I was almost old enough to set my_own_ examples! I'm the oldest of the family."
Susy said no more about becoming a home-missionary to Annie; for,although she could not quite see the force of her mother's reasoning,she believed her mother was always right.
"But what does she mean by calling me _timid_? She has blamed me a greatdeal for being _bold_."
Yes, bold Susy certainly was, when there was a fence to climb, a pony toride, or a storm to be faced; but she was, nevertheless, a littlefaint-hearted when people laughed at her. But Susy was learning everyday, and this time it had been a lesson in moral courage. She did notfully understand her mother, however, as you will see by and by.