Rilla of the Lighthouse
CHAPTER XXV. MURIEL FINDS A FRIEND.
Miss Gordon looked up from her desk, at which she was writing when, ather request, the door of the office opened. "Oh, good afternoon, Faith,dear," she said when she saw the little brown maid who stood there, fornut-brown the girl surely was, hair, eyes and skin being dark.
"Can you spare a moment?" Faith asked, not wishing to interrupt, for sheknew that her mission could be postponed.
"As many as you wish. Come in and sit down. I know by your eagerexpression that you have something to ask or to tell. What is it, dear?"
"It's about Muriel Storm, Miss Gordon, that I wish to speak. I have beenwith her for the last two hours."
The principal looked her pleasure. "Oh, Faith," she said, "I'm so glad ifyou are taking an interest in poor, heart-broken Muriel. There iswonderful material in that girl and you are the one pupil in the wholeschool whom I had thought of asking to befriend her, but I decided towait and see if there were any who would be kind to her without my havingasked it as a favor."
"I, too, think that Muriel is very unusual," the girl declared warmly."When I visited her room today I felt at once that yearning one wouldfeel for any helpless thing that was hurt, but soon I became interestedin her for herself alone. I never before saw a face that registersemotion more wonderfully, as Miss Burns calls it in our drama class."
"You are right," Miss Gordon replied. "I soon found that Muriel lovednature passionately, and what do you suppose we have been doing duringthe evening hour that we have spent together this week? Reading andlistening to the great nature poems! And, dear, one night when the girlcame to me she said, almost shyly: 'Miss Gordon, I _heard_ a little versetoday when I was out with my pine,' and then she told it. Althoughcrudely worded, that little poem promises much. It described the surfbeating on the rocks of her Windy Island home and of a lame pelican whichis unable to compete with the more active birds in its struggle forexistence, and depends largely on Muriel for its sustenance. She had beenthinking of this bird friend, it seemed, and of the nature poems that Ihad read when this little verse came to her thought."
"Miss Gordon, do you think that this untaught island girl is really apoet at heart?"
"I think just that. But, dear, Muriel is not untaught. True it is thatshe cannot speak our language. She knows nothing of science or numbers,but she has been taught high ideals by one of nature's noblemen, hergrandfather. Too, she has been taught the folk-lore of Ireland by anotherwhom she calls Captain Barney, and nature, the winds, sky, storm, birdsand sea have taught her much else. There are few girls at High Cliffs whoare as well grounded in things worth while as is our Muriel Storm. Now,dear, what is it you wish to say?"
Faith hesitated, then said: "I was thinking that it might be pleasant forMuriel to sit in the dining hall with us." Then she added, flushing: "Ofcourse, Miss Gordon, it is pleasant for her to be with you, but----"
The older woman placed a hand upon Faith's as she said: "Dear, Iunderstand, and also I have been waiting for this to happen. I wanted toplace her where she would be happy and not unkindly treated. What is yoursuggestion?"
"I was wondering if Phyllis Dexter, who sits between Gladys Goodsell andme, could not be placed at the long table with her friend AdelaineStuart. Every day she wishes that she were there, and then Muriel couldsit next to me. Gladys will be very kind to her."
There was a glad light in the eyes of the principal. She touched a buttontwice in rapid succession and the head waitress soon appeared. The changewas ordered and then when the maid had departed Miss Gordon arose."Dear," she said, "in fifteen minutes the supper bell will ring. Will youtake Muriel with you to the dining hall?"
"Oh, thank you, Miss Gordon! I am so glad that I have had this talk withyou."
* * * * * * * *
Muriel was just waking from her siesta on the window seat, feelingwonderfully refreshed, when she heard the bell which meant that she hadbut fifteen minutes in which to prepare for the evening meal.
Again there came a tap on her door and this time Muriel called eagerly,"Come in." She was sure that it would be Faith, and impulsively shewhirled about, saying: "Will you be forgivin' me for fallin' asleep whenyou was readin' to me?" Faith caught the outstretched hands as shereplied: "Yes, Muriel, if you will grant me a great privilege."
The island girl did not know that word, and, as usual, her faceregistered her perplexity. Faith laughed. Then, more seriously: "Dear, Iwould not hurt your feelings for worlds, but I was wondering if you wouldlike me to help you to speak as we do?" She looked anxiously into theclear hazel eyes and to her joy she saw a glad light dawning there. "Oh,I'd be thankful if you'd care that much."
"Very well, we'll begin on the sentence you said a moment ago." Murielslowly repeated it correctly after Faith. Then she exclaimed happily:"There's a rift in the clouds for me an' the sun's a-gleamin' through."There were sudden tears, but also a shining smile as she added: "'Twillbe a long while before I can get the speakin' right, but I'll try."
The last bell for supper was pealing through the corridors and Faith,catching the hand of Muriel, hurried her away.
There were groups of girls in twos and threes going down the circlingstairway, and although many of them greeted Faith, none even smiled ather companion, but there were three who swept past with their heads heldhigh. These snobbish girls were Marianne Carnot, Adelaine Stuart andPhyllis Dexter.
But a second later skipping feet were heard back of them and plump,good-natured Gladys Goodsell caught Faith by the arm. "Belovedestfriend," she said, after nodding at Muriel, "where hast thou been thisafternoon? Didst forget that we were to play tennis at four?"
Faith turned, truly contrite. "I'll have to confess that I did forget,Gladys. I am so sorry. Are you very hurt with me?"
A jolly laugh rang out at this reply. "Getting angry would take moreenergy than I have to expend." Then, more seriously: "I know my friendFaith too well to think that she would neglect an engagement if sherecalled it, and, as it happened, Catherine Lambert was pining to havesomeone play singles, and so I made her happy."
They had reached the large, pleasant dining hall and saw many girls whowere already there standing behind their chairs. Purposely, Faith delayedher companion near a window overlooking the garden of asters. The islandgirl's eyes were aglow as she looked out.
"It's pretty they are," she said; "the like of 'em I've not seen. We hadthe wild ones but no planted flowers."
Gladys, who did not in the least understand what was happening, glancedover at Faith, who, in a moment when she could not be observed by Muriel,placed her finger on her lips and nodded, as much as to say, "Do as I doand I'll explain later."
Gladys had chummed with Faith and Helen Beavers during the three yearsthey had been at High Cliffs and understood the sign language of herfriend almost as well as she did the spoken word. So she knew thatsomething unexpected was about to happen, and that she was to take hercue from Faith.
Although Muriel occupied the seat formerly that of Phyllis Dexter, thechange had not pleased that proud girl, who had so wished to be placednext to her particular friend, Adelaine Stuart. Instead she found herselfplaced between two seniors in whom she was not remotely interested. Thetruth of the matter was that Miss Gordon had long been observing thethree girls, Marianne, Phyllis and Adelaine, and thought it wise to keepthem apart whenever it was possible.
When Muriel, looking almost happy for the first time since her arrival atHigh Cliffs, was seated, she felt a compelling gaze and glanced acrossthe room. There she saw Marianne watching her through half-closed lids.There seemed to be in the French girl's expression a threat thatendangered her new-found joy and peace. But Faith, who also had seen,reached under the table and, finding Muriel's hand, she held it in aclose, protecting clasp, and the island girl knew that come what mightshe would not have to stand alone.
Saturday dawned gloriously bright, for it was Indian summer on theHudson. The air was so
ft and balmy, the sunshine hazy and a dreamy littlebreeze rustled the few yellowing leaves that were still clinging to thetrees.
"Just the day for a hike," Faith announced at breakfast.
Catherine Lambert, who sat across the table, looked up eagerly and inanswer to the speaker's question, "Who wants to go?" she at once replied,"I do."
"Muriel is to be the guest of honor." Faith smiled lovingly at the girlnext to her. "Gladys, how about you?"
"I thought we were to practice for the tennis tournament today. There isonly a month left, you know."
"That's right. So we were. But, Gladys, if you will go hiking with ustoday I'll promise to practice tennis every afternoon next week from fourto five, my free time, on one condition."
Her friend looked at her inquiringly. "Name it," she said.
"That fifteen minutes each day may be devoted to teaching Muriel ourfavorite game."
"Agreed. Who knows but that she may be just the champion player for whomwe are looking," Gladys good naturedly declared with sincere fervor.
And Catherine chimed in with: "Oh, wouldn't it be great if we could makea player out of Muriel? We haven't anyone on our side as light on herfeet or as quick as Marianne Carnot. Just because of that I've actuallybeen afraid that we might lose out on the great day." Then, to thewide-eyed listener, Faith explained: "On Thanksgiving every year we havea tennis tournament. Marianne and her friends are the opponents of Gladysand her chums. Of course, naturally we are eager to win. Now, Muriel, ifyou are willing, we will train you. Not that we expect you really tobring victory to our side; that would be asking too much, since MarianneCarnot was the champion tennis player in the English boarding school thatshe attended before she came to America. She has three medals to proveher frequently made boast, and, moreover, we have seen her play." Then,as the surveillant of the dining hall gave the signal, the pupils roseand left.
In the lower corridor, near the office of the principal, Faith paused."Wait a minute," she said softly. "I am going to ask Miss Gordon if wemay take our lunch. I do not have to return to the school until threeo'clock, just in time for my violin lesson."
The permission was readily granted and then the four girls went to theirrooms to dress for the hike.
Muriel was happier than she had supposed she would be ever again, and sheactually smiled at her reflection as she donned her sport skirt, sweaterand tam.
When she was dressed, Muriel stood gazing idly from her window.