Marion Berkley: A Story for Girls

  CHAPTER XV.

  MISS CHRISTINE GOES TO A PARTY.

  Thanksgiving day passed off very quietly, but nevertheless verypleasantly, at school. The little dissipation of the night previous hadgiven such perfect satisfaction to all those who participated in it, andthey were the scholars who were generally the ringleaders in everyscheme for fun and frolic, that they were all willing to maintain a mostdiscreet behavior throughout the day. To be sure they entered into allthe lively conversation of the dinner-table, and amused some of theyounger ones afterwards with games and stories; but there was none ofthat general uproar and confusion that one would expect to see in aschool full of all ages, when the whole day was fully understood to beat their disposal and they were released from any apparent restraint.

  The quiet behavior of Marion and her set might have been readilyattributed to the fact of Florence's lameness, had that fact been known;it took the united energies and tact of the six to get her up and downstairs, and in and out of rooms so that her limping would not benoticed, or attention attracted to the sudden growth of one of her feet.She bore the pain like a martyr, and managed to conceal her sufferingsfrom the public, only giving vent to her feelings when she was perfectlysure of not being observed.

  Of course Marion's supper could not remain a secret, and she and thefive whom she had honored with invitations were made to feel the scornof some of the older scholars, who were not of the favored few.Mutterings of discontent, contemptuous shrugs of the shoulders, andglances which were intended to be withering in the extreme, werelevelled at the obnoxious six, who were highly entertained at theremarks and actions of some of the girls, and in various little waysadded fuel to the flame.

  Georgie Graham felt herself especially insulted, and did everything inher power to rouse her companions to a realizing sense of their injureddignity.

  "Why, really, Georgie," said Mattie Denton, "I don't see as there wasanything so very dreadful in Marion's asking the girls into her room.She probably had those she wanted, and I don't blame her. I'm sure youcouldn't expect she would invite _you_!"

  "Expect she'd invite me!" retorted Georgie, with a scornful toss of herhead; "she knew very well I wouldn't have gone if she had."

  "Oh, well," quietly replied Mattie, "I suppose, of course, that was theonly reason she didn't ask you."

  "The idea of her having Rachel Drayton," continued Georgie, ignoringMattie's remark; "she has hardly treated her decently since she's beenhere, and to start out all of a sudden, and be so _dreadfully_ intimateas to invite her into her room with a _select_ party of friends, isreally too absurd--or would be if it wasn't so easy to see what she isafter!"

  "See what she is after! Why, what in the world do you mean?" askedMattie. "I don't imagine she's after anything."

  "Oh, no! I suppose not," scornfully laughed Georgie, tossing her headstill higher. "Of course not! you know the old saying, Mattie, 'None soblind as those that won't see.'"

  "What in the world do you mean, Georgie Graham? I don't believe you knowyourself!"

  "Don't I, though? Well, now, do you suppose that Marion Berkley, whoholds her head so high, and doesn't condescend to take any notice of usgirls, would have whisked round all of a sudden, and been so very sweeton Rachel Drayton, if she hadn't an object in view?"

  "You certainly are the strangest creature I ever saw," indignantlyreplied Mattie. "As if Marion ever had been sweet on Rachel! No one butyou would ever have thought of such a thing! I presume she invited her,because she is a friend of Flo's."

  "No such thing," replied Georgie, leaning across the table and speakingevery word slowly and distinctly. "She invited her because she is anheiress, and Marion intends to toady round her until she gets into hergood graces."

  "I don't believe it," flatly declared Mattie.

  "She told me so herself."

  "What! told you she meant to toady Rachel!--a likely story!"

  "No, told me Rachel was an heiress."

  "Well, suppose she is an heiress, what of that? You know perfectly wellthat Marion Berkley is not a girl to _toady_ any one, and you ought tobe ashamed of yourself for saying so. I'm sure every one could see thatshe has not treated Rachel very cordially, and if she invited her intoher room it was on Flo's account, and I'm glad for one she showed hersome kindness. No one but _you_ would ever have put a bad motive on sucha simple action."

  "Thank you, Mattie, for defending me," quietly remarked Marion herself,as she passed through the library where the two girls were sitting, andwent upstairs.

  "There, Miss Graham, I hope you feel better now!" exclaimed Mattie, whowas now thoroughly roused.

  "Pooh! I don't care; 'listeners never hear any good of themselves;' sheshouldn't have been eaves-dropping."

  "That sounds well, Georgie, I must say, coming from you," repliedMattie. "She was in the school-room, and goodness knows we talked loudenough. Next time you have any such agreeable insinuations to makeagainst one of your school-mates, you'll be kind enough to go to someone else;" and Mattie turned away indignantly, and left Georgie to herown reflections.

  Finding that she had not been able to rouse any ill-will towards Marionin Mattie's breast, and inwardly provoked with herself for havingproclaimed Rachel to be an heiress,--a fact which for reasons of her ownshe would have preferred to have remain a secret,--she left the hall,and entered the drawing-room, where most of the girls were congregated,thinking perhaps that there would be a better field for her operations.

  Poor Marion had been cut to the quick by Georgie's remark; not onaccount of the source from which it came, but because she feared, that,through Georgie's manoeuvring, it would become the general opinion ofthe scholars, and in her inmost heart Marion had hoped that she mightnot leave the school at the end of the year, without leaving behind hera better reputation than she had borne before.

  She said nothing of this hope to any one, not even Florence, but hadtried in many little things, principally in her manner, to be more kindto those of her school-mates who were not in any way attractive to her.

  Forgetful of the feelings of others as she so often appeared, she washerself extremely sensitive, and nothing could have annoyed her morethan to be accused of toadying any one. She could not bear the idea ofhaving such an imputation fastened upon her, and she secretly resolvedthat in the future she would treat Rachel Drayton with the samecoldness and hauteur she had shown in the past. If she had only knownthat that was the very object at which Georgie was aiming!

  She had been thinking all day of Aunt Bettie's happiness, and thethought of it had greatly contributed to her own; but now all her peaceof mind was quite destroyed. She knew the resolution she had made wasunworthy of herself; but every time she tried to reason against it, thethought of how her conduct would be misrepresented if she should treatRachel with kindness and consideration, as she had made up her mind theprevious night she would do, proved too much for her sensitive pride,and she determined to hold firmly to her first resolution.

  She knew it was miserably weak in her, to allow herself to be governedby fear of the misrepresentation of any one whom she held in such uttercontempt as she did Georgie Graham; but she knew that the girl'sinfluence over some of the scholars was great, and though outwardly sheappeared indifferent to whatever they might think of her, at heart shereally longed for their good opinion.

  A still, small voice whispered in her ear, that if she would only followthe dictates of her better nature she would certainly be worthy of theirgood opinion, and in the sight of One who not only sees, butunderstands, everything that passes in our minds, she would be doingright. But she was not in a mood to listen to any such voice; she leftthe room, and running down to the parlor, seated herself at the piano,and for an hour played for the girls to dance, trying in that way to getrid of the unpleasant thoughts that would force themselves upon her.

  "What do you think?" exclaimed Mattie Denton, going up to her almost outof breath, after a furious gallop; "Miss Christine is going to a party."

  "A party!" exc
laimed Marion; "when and where?"

  "To-night, at Mrs. Dickenson's; she has a family dinner-party, and afew friends are invited in the evening; of course I don't suppose it's aregular _party_, but quite an event for our Miss Christine."

  "I should think as much," replied Marion. "I am so glad she's going!Wasn't Miss Stiefbach invited?"

  "Oh, yes, of course; but she declined. I suppose she thought it wouldnever do to leave us alone."

  "No, 'while the cat's away the mice _will_ play,' you know."

  "Yes, I should think the mice played a little last night," laughedMattie.

  "So they did; but then the cat was round. Come, I've played enough forthese girls. I mean to ask Miss Christine to let me do her hair. Youcome with me, and I'll give you some of the good things the mice_didn't_ play with."

  "O Marion!" wailed half-a-dozen girls; "aren't you going to play anymore?"

  "No, I can't. I've most banged my fingers off; ask Fannie."

  "But she doesn't play half as well as you do."

  "Much obliged for your flattery; but it's all wasted this time,"answered Marion, as she and Mattie left the room to hunt up MissChristine.

  "Sallie, do you know where Miss Christine is?" asked Marion, as they metSarah Brown on the stairs.

  "Yes, she's just gone to her room. Do you know she's going to a party!"

  "1 know it; isn't it splendid? I'm going up to ask her to let me do herhair."

  "I don't believe she'll let you."

  "Yes, she will; I'll coax her into it, see if I don't."

  "Where are you going to do it? Do let me see you."

  "In my room, I guess, so that Flo can see me; but not until after tea."

  After depositing Mattie in her room with a plateful of goodies, Marionproceeded to that of Miss Christine, which was directly opposite that ofMiss Stiefbach, and upon knocking was immediately told to "Come in" byMiss Christine, who at that moment was shaking out the folds of a plain,but handsome black silk.

  "O Miss Christine, isn't it splendid?" cried Marion, clasping her hands;"you're going to a party!"

  Miss Christine laughed her dear, little, good-natured laugh. "Why, itseems to be considered a most wonderful event. Sarah has just been uphere, and appears almost as pleased as if she were going herself."

  "Of course she is, and so am I; and I'm going to do your hair."

  "My dear," replied Miss Christine, "it will be too much trouble."

  "Trouble! why, I admire to do it. I always do mamma's when I'm home, andshe wants to look _very_ fine."

  "But you see I don't want to look very fine."

  "Oh, yes, you do; or if you don't I want you to; besides, I promise notto do it any _fixy_ way,--braid the back _some_thing as you do, only putit up with a little more style."

  Miss Christine laughed. "Well, as you are so very kind as to offer, I'lllet you; but when will you do it?"

  "Directly after supper, please; that will be time enough. Will you bekind enough to bring your brushes into my room? I think the light isbetter."

  "Very well, it does not make any difference to me. You run out now, andI will be all ready but putting on my dress, before tea."

  Marion ran back to Mattie, and then went down to communicate the successof her errand to Sarah and Florence. Immediately after supper theyhelped Flo upstairs, and had just got her comfortably settled in theonly easy-chair in the room, with her foot on a cricket, and a shawlthrown carelessly over it, as Miss Christine came in, brushes in hand.

  Marion seated her with her back to the glass, saying as she did so, "Idon't want you to see yourself until it is all done."

  "Don't make me look too fine," said Miss Christine.

  "No fear of that," replied Marion, as she rapidly undid the massivebraids, and brushed them until they shone like burnished gold.

  "There is some pleasure in doing such hair as yours," said Marion, withall the enthusiasm of an Auguste; "no need of rats or yarn here."

  For a few moments she worked in silence, as her fingers flew in and out,until two long shining braids were made; these she twisted gracefullyround at the back of Miss Christine's head, exclaiming as she put in thelast hair-pin:--

  "There! who would ever suppose she had as much hair as that? Just lookat it, girls; isn't it lovely?"

  "Perfectly lovely!" cried Florence. "Why, Miss Christine, you don't makeany show of it at all."

  "I braid it up as tight as possible, and don't care for anything but tohave it stay firm and smooth."

  "Now, Miss Christine," said Marion, in a tone which seemed to imply thatshe expected opposition, but meant to conquer it, "I'm going to crimpthe front."

  "My dear child, are you crazy? Why, I should not think of doing such athing!"

  "Of course you wouldn't, because you don't know how; but I'll do it now,and teach you some other time."

  "Yes, yes," put in both Florence and Mattie; "your hair will be lovelycrimped, and _so_ becoming; do let her!"

  "But I am afraid you'll make me look ridiculous, Marion," said MissChristine, in a deprecating tone; "and perhaps you will burn it."

  "Indeed I won't; _your_ hair shan't suffer the way poor Meg's did in'Little Women,' for I'll do it over a hot slate-pencil, and that _never_burnt mine."

  "You don't mean to say you want to friz my hair up the way yours is!"

  "No, indeed; I'll take more hair, and that will do it in large, softwaves. Now you'll see how lovely I'll make it look;" and Marion alreadyhad the pencil in the gas, and in a moment more was twisting over it alock of Miss Christine's hair. "Now for the other side; then I'll combit out, and it will be perfectly stunning!"

  "Marion, what an expression!" said Miss Christine, as she sat inmomentary expectation of having her hair singed off her head, or herforehead blistered. "I wish you would correct yourself of the habit ofusing slang words."

  "_Slang!_ why, that's not slang!"

  "Yes, my dear; I think it is."

  "Well, it is certainly a very mild form."

  "Mild or not, it is extremely unladylike, and I hope you will get overthe habit soon, or it will become fixed upon you."

  "Well, I'll try," said Marion, taking a hair-pin out of her mouth; "butit will almost kill me. Stunning, and scrumptious, and jolly, and lotsof those things, express so much more than any old, prim, stuck-upwords. There! I suppose that's slang too! Well, never mind now, MissChristine; when I come back after Christmas vacation, I'm going to be'Miss Piety promoted;' see if I'm not! Now look at yourself."

  "Why, Marion, haven't you crimped my hair a _little_ too much?"

  "No, indeed!" cried the three girls.

  "You look just as sweet as you can look," said Florence; "it's not a bittoo much, it's only lovely waves."

  "Now I'm to get your dress, and you must put it on in here," saidMarion; and before Miss Christine could utter a word of remonstrance shewas off, and in a moment came back with the dress over her arm, and alace collar in her hand. "I wish the skirt was a trifle longer," saidMarion, as she stooped, and pulled it down behind.

  "It's long enough for such a plain body as myself; you want to make afashionable lady of me."

  "I wouldn't have you a fashionable lady for the world! but I do want youto look your very bestest."

  "You have forgotten my pin, dear; it was on the bureau beside mycollar."

  "No I haven't forgotten it," said Marion, who was opening and shuttingvarious boxes in her upper drawer. "Where in the world is that ribbon?Here it is. Now, Miss Christine, I don't want you to wear the pin; it'sthe same you wear every day, and you ought to have some color about yousomewhere; so I want you to wear this knot of blue satin, and I've got aband to match. Please do, just for my sake!"

  "Why, Marion, you will make me absurd; you forget what an old maid Iam."

  "Old maid! I should think as much," replied Marion, pinning on the bowin spite of all remonstrance,--"old maid indeed! You're nothing of thesort, and what's more you know you never will be;" and Marion gave amischievous glance at her teacher.
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  "Don't be impertinent, Marion," replied Miss Christine; but "old maid"as she called herself, she could not keep a very girlish blush fromglowing on her cheeks at her pupil's words.

  "I think you are just as lovely as you can be!" exclaimed Marion. "Oh! Iforgot; the band for your hair;--there! now you're complete."

  "Why, Miss Christine, you'll hardly know yourself," said Florence; "justlook in the glass. Those crimps make you look five years younger."

  "I'm going down to get Sallie," said Marion. "Don't put your things onyet, please; she wants to see you."

  Marion ran off, returning in a few moments with Sarah Brown, who, themoment she saw her teacher, threw open her arms, and gave her a mostemphatic hug.

  "Now you look just as you ought. I'm perfectly delighted you're going,and your hair is beautiful,--that band is so becoming."

  "That is all Marion's doings; in fact, I owe all my 'fine feathers' toher, and without them I should not be such a 'fine bird' as you seem tothink me;" and Miss Christine laughed her dear, little laugh, that herscholars loved so well, and glanced affectionately at the group ofadmiring girls about her.

  "You are not a 'fine bird' at all," exclaimed Sarah, in her mostenthusiastic way; "you are just a dear, white dove."

  "O Sarah! a white dove in black silk and blue satin--ratherincongruous," said Miss Christine.

  The girls all joined Miss Christine in her laugh; but neverthelessprotested that Sarah's simile was not a bit exaggerated.

  "Well now, Miss Christine," said Marion, "if you are ready, I'll go downand tell Biddy to put her things on."

  "Biddy isn't going with me," replied Miss Christine, who seemed verybusily engaged enveloping her head in a cloud, bringing it so far overher face that not a vestige of her hair was visible.

  "Why, you're not going alone?"

  "No; M. Beranger was invited, and kindly offered to escort me," saidMiss Christine, bending her head to fasten her glove.

  "Oh!" said Marion; but she gave a sly glance at her companions, whichwas not observed by Miss Christine, whose glove-buttons seemed to begiving her a great deal of trouble.

  "Now, good-night, girls. I thank you a thousand times for all you havedone for me, Marion;" then, as she kissed them all, "I don't believethere ever was a teacher had such affectionate scholars."

  "You mean there never were scholars that had such a perfectly lovelyteacher!" cried Sarah Brown, loud enough to be heard in the hall below.

  "'Sh!" said Miss Christine. "Monsieur is down there; he will hear you."

  "I guess it won't be any news to him," whispered Marion, as they hungover the banisters watching the proceedings below. "Do you know, Sallie,I believe she pulled that cloud over her head on purpose so that MissStiefbach wouldn't see she had her hair crimped. I dare say if she had,she'd have given her a lecture, when she got back, on the follies andvanities of this world."

  "I dare say," replied Sarah. "She'd like to make Miss Christine justsuch a stiff old maid as she is herself; but she won't succeed."

  "Not a bit of it," replied Marion.

  When Miss Christine came home from the party, and stood before her glasspreparatory to undressing, if she had been one of her own scholars shewould have said she had a "splendid time." Evening companies, even assmall as the one she had just attended, were something in which sherarely indulged; in fact, she had often remained at home frompreference, sending her sister in her place, thinking she was much morelikely to shine in society than herself. But this night she had reallyenjoyed herself. It certainly was very pleasant to know she lookedbetter than usual; and if the evidence of her own eyes, and theadmiration of her scholars, had not proved that, there had been some oneelse who testified to the fact in a few respectful, but very earnestwords.

  As she unpinned the blue ribbons, she wondered if it had been foolishand undignified in her to wear them; but the recollection of the lovinggirls who had urged her to do so filled her heart with delight, and shewent to bed feeling that the affection of those young hearts was worthmore than all the elegance of manner, and extreme dignity, for which hersister was noticeable, which, however it might inspire the awe andrespect of her pupils, never won their love.

  The next morning the girls noticed that Miss Christine's crimps were notentirely "out." When she brushed her hair that morning, her firstimpulse had been to straighten out the pretty waves with a dash of coldwater; then she thought, to please Marion, she would leave it as it was.I wonder if it occurred to her that the only lesson for the day wasFrench?