CHAPTER IV.
MARION'S SENTENCE.
Immediately after the close of school Marion betook herself to theprivate study of Miss Stiefbach. This was a small room back of thedrawing-room, fitted up very cosily and comfortably, and which no onebut the sisters ever entered, except on state occasions, or undercircumstances like the present. It must be confessed that Marion did notfeel very comfortable as the door closed behind her, and Miss Stiefbach,who was sitting at her desk, turned round, motioning her to be seated.Marion knew she had done very wrong, and was really sorry for it, for,although none of the scholars could be said to have much affection forMiss Stiefbach, they all held her in the most profound respect, and nosuch direct attack upon her dignity had ever been made within the memoryof any of the present pupils.
Miss Stiefbach cleared her throat, and commenced speaking in her mostimpressive and awful voice. "Miss Berkley" (the fact that she addressedMarion in this very distant manner proved at once that she was veryangry), "your conduct to me this day has been such as I have never seenin any young lady since I became the head of this establishment, and Iconsider it deserves a severe punishment. The remarks which I overheardthis morning, as I entered your room, were enough in themselves to havemerited a stern rebuke, even if they had not been followed by a directinsult to myself. I am surprised indeed, that any young ladies broughtup in refined society should have made use of such expressions as'_swell_' and--and--other words of a like nature." It was evidently sohard for Miss Stiefbach to pronounce the word, even in a tone of intensedisapproval, that Marion, despite her uneasiness, could not help beingamused; but no trace of her feelings could be seen in her face; she satbefore her teacher perfectly quiet,--so quiet, that Miss Stiefbach couldnot tell whether she was deeply repentant or supremely indifferent.
"I have decided," resumed Miss Stiefbach, "that as M. Beranger wasindirectly connected with the affair, you shall apologize to me beforethe whole school, and in his presence, on the next French day, whichwill be Friday. I should not have subjected you to this mortification,if you had shown any willingness to apologize to me here; but as youseem entirely insensible of the impropriety of your conduct, I considerthat the punishment is perfectly just."
Marion rose; for one second her eyes had flashed ominously when hersentence was delivered, but it was the only sign she gave of beingsurprised or otherwise moved. Perceiving that Miss Stiefbach had nothingmore to say, she left the room as quietly as she had entered it. Severalof the girls were standing at the study door waiting for her to comeout, for the whole story had by this time become pretty freelycirculated, and every one was impatient to know the result of theinterview. Marion passed them without a glance, and without speaking,but with the most perfect _sang froid_, and went directly upstairs toher room. But once there her forced composure gave way, and, throwingherself on the bed, she burst into a passion of tears.
Florence, who had been anxiously waiting for Marion to come up, kneltdown beside her, smoothing her hair, calling her by all their fond, petnames, and doing everything she could to soothe and quiet her, but neveronce asking the questions that were uppermost in her own mind, for sheknew that, as soon as this first hysterical fit of weeping was over, herfriend would tell her all. She waited some time, until she became almostfrightened, for Marion's sobs shook her from head to foot, and sheseemed unable to control herself.
Suddenly Marion sprang up, and exclaimed in the most excited, passionatetones, "Florence! Florence! what do you think she is going to make medo? Think of the most humiliating thing you can!"
"Indeed, my darling, I cannot guess," replied Flo, while she had hardwork to restrain her own tears.
"I have got to apologize to her before the whole school, and before M.Beranger next Friday. Oh! I think it is abominable. She wouldn't havemade any other girl do it, but she knows how proud I am, and she thinksnow she'll humble me. Oh, it is too hard, too hard to bear!" and Marionthrew herself back on the pillow, and sobbed aloud.
Poor Florence was completely overpowered. Distressed as she was for herfriend, and furiously indignant with Miss Stiefbach, she hardly dared tocomfort and sympathize with her, except by caresses, for fear ofincreasing her excitement, and she could only throw her arms roundMarion's neck, kissing her repeatedly, and exclaiming again and again,"I wish I could help you!--I wish I could help you!"
But after a while the violence of Marion's grief and anger subsided, butleft its traces in a severe headache; her temples throbbed fearfully,and her face and hands were burning hot.
Florence wet a cloth in cold water, and laid it on her head, and,knowing that Marion would prefer to be alone, she kissed her quietly,and as her eyes were closed was about to leave the room withoutspeaking, when Marion called her back, exclaiming, "Don't tell thegirls anything about it; they'll find it out soon enough."
"No, dear, I won't mention it, if I can help it. You lie still and tryto get to sleep. Don't come downstairs to supper. I will excuse you toMiss Christine, and bring you up a cup of tea."
"No! no! no!" excitedly repeated Marion; "do no such thing. I wouldn'tstay up from supper, if it killed me to go down; it would only prove toold Stiffback how deep she has cut, and I mean she shall find it willtake more than _she_ can do to humble me. Be sure and let me know whenthe bell rings. I don't think there is much danger of my going to sleep;but for fear I should, you come up before tea,--won't you?"
Flo promised, and giving her another kiss, and advising her again to liestill and go to sleep,--a thing which she knew it was impossible forMarion to do,--she left the room.
Left to herself Marion became a prey to her own varying emotions. Pride,anger, and mortification were rankling in her breast. When she thoughtof the coming disgrace which she was to endure, she sobbed and wept asif her heart would break; and then the image of Miss Stiefbach, with hercalm, cool face, and deliberate manner, seeming so much as if sheenjoyed giving such pain, rose before her mind, and she clenched herhands, and shut her teeth together, looking as she felt, willing to doalmost anything to revenge herself.
In her inmost heart she had been truly sorry for having spoken soimpertinently to her teacher, and she had gone to the study fullyprepared to acknowledge that she had done wrong, and to ask pardon forher fault. But Miss Stiefbach, by presupposing that she felt no regretfor her conduct, or any desire to apologize, had frozen all suchfeelings, and roused all the rebellious part of the girl's nature.
For some time Marion tossed restlessly from side to side; but at last,finding it impossible to quiet herself, much less to sleep, she got up,bathed her face, and prepared to arrange her disordered hair.
To her excited imagination, it seemed almost as if she could hear thegirls downstairs discussing the whole matter. Every laugh she heard shebelieved to be at her expense, and she dreaded meeting her companions,knowing full well that her looks and actions would be the subject ofgeneral comment.
Throughout the school Marion was not a general favorite; almost all thegirls admired her, but there were few who felt that they really knewher.
She was acknowledged by almost all her companions to be the brightestand prettiest girl in the school, and was apparently on good terms withall of them; but that was all. Many who would have liked to know herbetter, and who would have been glad to make advances of intimatefriendship, felt themselves held back from doing so, by a certainhaughty, reserved manner, which she at times assumed, and by her ownevident disinclination for anything more than an amicable school-girlacquaintance.
Marion was quick to perceive the petty weaknesses and follies of thesearound her, and her keen sense of the ludicrous, combined with a habitof saying sharp, sarcastic things, often led her to draw out thesefoibles, and show them up in their most absurd light.
No one knew her faults better than Marion herself, and she wasconstantly struggling to overcome them; but her pride and strong willled her to conceal her real feelings, and often when she was at heartangry with herself, and ashamed of her wilful, perhaps unkind, behavior,she
would assume an aspect of supreme indifference, effectuallydeceiving every one as to what was really passing in her mind.
She kept her struggles to herself. No one but her friend Florence andMiss Christine knew how sincerely she longed to conquer her faults, andhow severe these struggles were.
The knowledge of them had come to Miss Christine by accident. One dayMarion had said something unusually sharp and cutting to one of hercompanions, but had appeared perfectly unconscious of having doneanything unkind, and had gone to her own room humming a tune, with themost perfect nonchalance.
Miss Christine shortly after followed her, wishing to talk with her, andshow her the folly and wickedness of persisting in such conduct. She hadfound her door closed, and, knocking softly and receiving no answer, shegently opened it, when what was her astonishment to find Marionstretched upon the floor, weeping violently. She went to her, and,kneeling down beside her, called her by name. Marion, thus surprised,could not conceal her grief, or summon her cold, indifferent manner,and, leaning her head on Miss Christine's shoulder, she sobbed out hersorrow, shame, and repentance.
Never since had Miss Christine in any way alluded to the event, or byany means tried to force herself into Marion's confidence; but thisglimpse into her heart had showed her what she might otherwise neverhave known, that Marion saw and regretted her own faults and failings,and was resolved to conquer them. From that time a secret bond ofsympathy was established between pupil and scholar, and though no wordwas spoken, a mild, reproachful glance from Miss Christine, or her handlaid gently on Marion's shoulder, had often checked a risingexclamation, or cutting sarcasm, which, no matter how sharply it mighthave struck its victim, would have rebounded with greater and deeperpain to the very heart of Marion.
At home Marion had little or nothing to call forth the disagreeablequalities of her disposition. Surrounded by love and admiration on everyside, the darling of her mother, and the pride and glory of her father,to whom she appeared almost faultless, it was no wonder that she foundit hard to get on smoothly when thrown among a number of girls her ownage, many of whom, jealous of her superior beauty and intelligence,would have been glad of any opportunity of getting her into trouble.
Then it was that the worst side of her nature showed itself; and she wasshocked when she discovered how many faults she had which she had neverthought of before.
Her sharp, sarcastic speeches gave her father infinite amusement whenshe was at home; but there her remarks rarely wounded any one; but atschool she made her words tell, and she knew that her tongue was hergreatest enemy.
But towards the younger girls Marion was always kind and good-natured.No one ever told such delightful stories, or made such prettypaper-dolls, or drew them such lovely pictures as Marion Berkley, and itwas always a mystery to them why the "big girls" did not all love her.
* * * * *
Downstairs poor Florence had been having a hard time. When she firstmade her appearance in the library there had been a general rush towardsher, and she was greeted with a perfect volley of questions, which itneeded her utmost ingenuity to parry.
She knew Julia Thayer had a right to know all, for she had beenpersonally concerned in the matter, besides being, next to Flo, Marion'sdearest friend; but she saw that she could not tell her without furtherexciting the curiosity of the other girls, and she was forced to takeher book, and appear to be deeply interested in her studies. But,although her lips monotonously whispered page after page of history, sheknew no more about her lesson than if she had been reading Hindoostanee.
What was her astonishment when she heard close beside her Marion'svoice, asking, in a perfectly natural tone, "Did Miss Christine say sixpages of English History, or seven?"
Florence gave a quick glance at Marion's face, and saw that, althoughshe was a little pale, she showed no signs of the storm that had solately disturbed her. Neither did she throughout the evening appearother than bright and cheerful, effectually silencing by her ownapparent ease any surmises or questions in which her companions mighthave indulged, and they all supposed that she had received a severereprimand, and that there the matter would end.
But all agreed with Sarah Brown, who exclaimed, "How Miss Stiefbach hadever swallowed that pill so easily was a perfect mystery!"