Rilla of the Lighthouse

  CHAPTER XXVI. MURIEL RECEIVES A LETTER.

  When Muriel Storm returned from the hike to the woodlands and found uponher desk a letter from Gene Beavers she did indeed rejoice, and withoutstopping to remove her hiking apparel, she curled up on her window seatto read the missive, which, as usual, was couched in the simplest words.

  The two weeks of tutoring which Muriel had received from Faith had helpedher to read with far greater ease. The lad told of his long illness whichhad resulted from the cold, stormy weather, the rough voyage and thedamp, foggy climate of London.

  He had seen nothing of the city since his arrival, but even though theywere living in one of the fashionable outlying districts, he could hearthe distant roar of the traffic, and now he yearned to be back on WindyIsland, where only were to be heard the sounds of nature.

  When Gene wrote that letter he knew nothing of the tragedy of thelighthouse, for although Faith had mentioned it in a letter to Helen, hissister had thought best not to sadden him with news that might be a shockto him, for she well knew how greatly he admired the old man who had beenkeeper of the light.

  However, she had been glad to tell him that Muriel Storm was attendingthe High Cliff Seminary. This did not really surprise him, for often hehad heard Doctor Winslow say that, as soon as he could convert the oldsea captain to his point of view, he, at his own expense, intendedsending the girl, of whom he was fond, to some good boarding school.

  Little did Muriel dream that Gene's proud mother had sent for him thatshe might get him away from the degrading influence of the fisherfolkwith whom he had been staying and about whom she had heard fromMarianne's father, who was a business friend of Mr. Beavers.

  Then for months she positively forbade the boy to write to the "islandgirl," but at length, when his illness lasted so long, the motherconsented to permit Gene to write if he would promise to remain inEngland until he was twenty-one. By that time he would have forgottenthat daughter of the common people, for she, of course, would be unableto travel, and so they would not meet.

  For a long time after the reading of the epistle Muriel sat with theletter lying in her lap as she gazed with unseeing eyes at the busyHudson. If only she knew how to write! As yet she had never answered oneof Gene's letters, nor had he expected a reply. Of course, Faith, Gladysor Catherine Lambert, all dear friends, would gladly pen a letter at herdictation, but that would not be quite the same. She wanted to write thevery first letter all by herself.

  She wondered how long it would be before she could learn.

  It was nearing five o'clock when there came a rap-i-tap upon her door, asignal meaning that Faith awaited without.

  In reply to Rilla's "Come in!" the door opened.

  "Muriel Storm, I do believe that you have been day-dreaming again! Whyhaven't you removed your hiking togs? I came up to tell you that MissWiddemere wishes us to gather in the study hall at five-fifteen for thefirst class of the year in politeness."

  The island girl sprang up and hastily began to change her costume. "Aclass in politeness, is it?" she repeated, in a puzzled tone of voice."What does one have to be learnin' in that kind of a class?"

  Faith sat on the window seat to wait until her friend was ready toaccompany her. "Oh, it's a sort of society stunt, so to speak," sheexplained. "We practice curtsies for grace, make seven differentvarieties of calls, more or less, are taught what to do with our handsand feet, how to be a hostess and how to be a guest. Oh, yes, and what todo and what not to do if we're ever presented to a queen." Faith waspurposely exaggerating. She really believed the class in politenessrather unnecessary, since the young ladies came from homes where theylearned from babyhood all that they would need to know.

  She had forgotten for the moment that Muriel had not had these same homeadvantages.

  "Oh, I wish I didn't have to be goin' to it," the island girl said as sheturned away from the mirror, again dressed in her dark blue schooluniform. "I'll be that awkward, an' I don't know nothin' about manners."Her voice was so truly distressed and the expression on her face sotragic that Faith sprang up from the window seat and, slipping aprotecting arm about her friend, she said: "Dear, I'll ask Miss Widdemereto excuse you today; that is, just let you watch the others, and then,this evening, I'll come up to your room and teach you the curtsy. Itwould hardly be fair to ask you to begin with the others when many ofthem practiced during the whole of last year."

  Faith had suddenly recalled overhearing a conversation when she was onher way to the cupola room. Adelaine Stuart and the French girl had beenjust ahead of her and she had distinctly heard the former say: "If it isyour desire to humiliate that lighthouse person wait until she has totake the part of hostess in politeness class. That will show her upbefore the whole school."

  The rest of the sentence Faith had not heard, as she had passed the twoschemers with her head held high, but when she came to think it over shewondered why Marianne Carnot wished to harm Rilla, whom she barely knew.

  Faith resolved to stay close to Muriel to protect her, if she could, fromwhatever humiliation Adelaine and Marianne might be planning, and it wasindeed lucky for the island girl that she had so staunch a friend.

  Faith was glad to find that the Mistress of the Manners Class was stillin her office, and thither she led Muriel.

  The young teacher glanced up and bade them enter. Then Faith asked: "MissWiddemere, have you met our new pupil, Muriel Storm?"

  There was a brightening expression in the kind grey eyes back of thelarge, dark-rimmed glasses. The teacher advanced, her right handextended.

  "No, indeed, and I am most pleased to meet you. A lucky new pupil you areto have the friendship of our Faith." This with a loving glance at thegirl who stood at Muriel's side.

  "Yes, ma'am. Thanks!"

  Miss Widdemere's glance was puzzled, though not unkindly critical. It wasnot customary for girls from the North to say "ma'am," but perhaps thisnew pupil was a Southerner. The teacher was even more perplexed whenFaith beckoned to Gladys Goodsell, who stood near awaiting her friend,and said: "Will you take Muriel to the classroom? I wish to speak withMiss Widdemere for a moment."

  When the door was closed, in as few words as possible Faith told thetragic story of Muriel's coming to High Cliffs.

  "She has never had an opportunity to learn the ways of social life, MissWiddemere," the girl said earnestly, "but when you know her better youwill think her very unusual, I am sure."

  Then, as she was eager to create a favorable impression, she added:"Muriel has beautiful fancies and our Miss Gordon believes that she is tobe a real poet some day."

  "What a loyal friend your friends have in you, Faith? What is yourrequest?"

  It was granted as soon as heard. "Muriel may listen and watch," theteacher declared, "but we will not ask her to take part until you tell methat you have coached her sufficiently in private."

  Then, as the bell in the corridor was announcing that laggards must makehaste, these two went to the study hall, where the pupils were assembled.Some were seated on the desk tops, others standing in groups chatting,but when Miss Widdemere appeared all arose, and facing her, made deepcurtsies. Muriel alone remained erect, not knowing what to do.

  Marianne, gazing across the room through half-closed lids, smiled andnudged her companion.

  "She's as graceful as a hitching post," Adelaine replied, loud enough tobe heard by several who stood near.

  Muriel felt their gaze and flushed with embarrassment.

  "The young ladies will now arrange their chairs in a large semi-circle,the vacant space in the center to represent a parlor." Miss Widdemerewaited until the confusion was over and the pupils seated beforecontinuing:

  "We will now select a hostess and ten guests to attend an afternoon tea.Whom do you name as hostess, Phyllis?" She had turned toward that younggirl because she had risen. "I name Muriel Storm," said Phyllis, who hadbeen well coached by the girls who sat next to her.

  Miss Widdemere sent a ke
en glance in their direction, and she said,rather coldly: "Young ladies, partly because of Muriel Storm's recentbereavement, we are not expecting her to share in our imaginary socialfunctions for a month at least."

  Marianne Carnot added in an undertone heard only by those about her, "Andthe other 'partly' is that she couldn't if we did expect it."

  Faith eventually was chosen as hostess and Muriel intently watched everymove made by her friend. How graceful she was and how gracious! A slip ofa Japanese girl, who was the daughter of the chef of the school, appeareddressed in an attractive native costume and played the part of maid forthis class. When she was older she, too, would be trained for the spherethat she was to fill.

  That evening Faith found her friend both discouraged and homesick.

  "It's out of place I am among you all," she said. "I'd ruther be backwith my seagulls, I'm thinkin'. I'll never take to bowin' and goin' toteas."

  Faith laughed merrily; then shaking a finger at Rilla, prophesied: "Theday is coming when you may be asked to be hostess for a lord or an earlor someone like that; then won't you be glad that you learned how at HighCliff Seminary?"

  The idea was so absurd that even Muriel laughed.

  "Me hostess at an earl's tea party? You're allays sayin' you have noimagination, but I'm thinkin' you have some and to spare."

  Laughter brought a better humor, as it always does, and for an hour thatevening Muriel permitted her friend to teach her the first positions tobe made in the curtsy.