Helen Grant''s Schooldays

  CHAPTER IX

  DIFFERENT STANDPOINTS

  Helen would have been figuratively torn to pieces if she had spentSunday at the Center. Uncle Jason's first resolve was that he would waituntil Sunday afternoon before announcing the conspiracy. The more hethought of the plan the greater the benefit to Helen seemed. She _was_different from the Mulfords, and she had no Cummings blood in her veins.She had changed these few weeks of her sojourn with Mrs. Dayton. Notthat she had grown consequential. Indeed, she had never been more simplysweet than on this afternoon.

  She would hate the shop dreadfully. And after all the three dollars aweek she would earn the first year, would not more than pay for herboard and clothes. Jenny had gone at it with a vim. But she hated books.The only thing that interested her was arithmetic. Uncle Jason could notput it in words, but he could feel it.

  The supper passed off without any squabbles. Sam and Jenny walked downto the house, the children were tired and went to bed, and Aunt Janecame out on the porch to take a turn in her rocking chair and fanherself cool. But the wind blew up, and she did not even have to fan.

  "Did you ask whether Helen would come home next week? Polly Samson comestwo days to make Jen's wedding gown, and she'll be married on thesixteenth. We've got along wonderfully the last fortnight, and I beginto see my way clear. Dear, how I shall miss Jen, but I'm glad she'll beso near by. And she bid 'em good-by at the shop to-day. Reely's gettingto be quite a help. I don't know but it _was_ better for her to haveHelen away in vacation."

  Uncle Jason felt this was the golden opportunity. The lovers would notbe home until about ten. It took some courage. He cleared his throat,listened a moment to the crickets, and then plunged into the subject;blurting it all out before Aunt Jane could recover her breath. In factthere was such an awful silence he wondered.

  Then the storm descended. He smoked his pipe and listened, though heheard the crickets with one ear, he would have said. And when he did notmake an immediate answer, she said angrily:

  "You never consented to any such tomfoolery!"

  "In the first place," he began slowly, "we couldn't keep Helen againsther will. Her father didn't make us guardians. At fourteen she canchoose. She isn't bound to us, and we haven't any real claim on her----"

  "Except common gratitude," Aunt Jane flung out.

  "We've taken care of her a few years. I dare say there'd be people inNorth Hope who would take a smart girl like Helen and pay her threedollars a week. Mrs. Dayton thought she might stay there and go to theHigh School before that other offer come along. And Warfield thinks itwould be dreadful not to give her a chance at school when she could earnit for herself. She doesn't want to go in the shop----"

  "As if a girl of fourteen knew what she wanted!"

  "Jenny did, and you agreed with her. I was awfully took by surprise whenold lady Van Dorn first snapped this onto me, but Helen and Mrs. Daytonwere so much in earnest, and then drivin' home I kept thinking it over.If someone offered to take Sam and teach him store business, and he hadhis heart set upon going, and it was a good chance, I don't believe itwould be right to oppose him. It's just the same with Helen."

  "And have her stick up above us and despise us! She's had pride enough,and I've tried to break her of it. I just wish I hadn't let her go atall. She'll be unthankful and full of conceit, and she never _shall_ gowith my consent."

  Uncle Jason kept silence, which was very irritating. Aunt Jane went overthe ground again, growing more dogmatic at every step. Then the youngpeople returned.

  "Goodness sakes, mother, what are you scolding about?" cried Jenny."They can hear you half a mile away."

  Then the story had to be gone over again.

  "Well, I declare! I don't see that it's anything to get mad about," saidJenny sensibly. "Why, it's--it's just splendid! Pop, don't you think sheought to go? And if she likes teaching better than anything else, forgoodness sake, let her teach! I'd rather go out washing. And a girl whodon't like it in the shop won't get along. Helen hasn't quite the rightway with her. She's on the Grant side of the fence. My! The idea! Thatold lady must have taken a smashin' fancy to her. And she has sights ofmoney, folks say. Maybe she'll leave her something in the end, and she'squite old."

  "I'm fairly stumped!" declared Sam. "Mother, what's the reason you don'twant her to go?"

  "Mother's afraid she'll put on airs, and crow over us. Goodness! Lether, if she wants to. I'm going to have a good home, and a goodhusband," squeezing Joe's hand, "and she may crow over me as much as shelikes. It won't hurt me a bit. And if you undertake to keep her homeshe'll be cranky, and you'll wish you hadn't."

  They were all on Helen's side. Mrs. Mulford could not make any headwayand went off to bed in high dudgeon. All day Sunday she carried about aninjured look, and said she had reached the time of life when heropinions were of no account, after all she had done, and where wouldanyone have been without her thrift and judgment?

  On Monday Jenny helped wash and iron, and sang about the house. She toldher mother the matter wasn't worth minding. Tuesday, Polly Samson camewith three new patterns of wedding gowns, and fairly alive with thewonderful news that a rich old woman boarding at Mrs. Dayton's was goingto adopt Helen, and send her away to school.

  The next afternoon the carriage came over with Mrs. Van Dorn, Mrs.Dayton, and Helen, and the agreement. Certainly Mrs. Van Dorn's partsounded very generous. For the next two years she would provide whollyfor Helen, and keep her at school, but she would be free in the summervacation. After that Helen must decide her course. Mr. Castles, thelawyer, vouched for Mrs. Van Dorn. The Mulfords were to visit herwhenever they chose.

  "I don't agree to any of this," said Mrs. Mulford, in her most severetone. "I don't believe in girls being brought up above their station.We're just plain farmer people, and Helen's our kin, though if she wason the Cummings' side, I'd have some voice in the matter. Mr. Mulford'swilling, and if it turns out bad, and she grows up proud and lazy, andashamed of honest labor, 'taint my fault. I wash my hands of it all,"and she fairly wrung them out.

  Helen's face was scarlet.

  Mrs. Van Dorn said in a very dignified manner, "Will you sign this, Mr.Mulford? You will see the money is in Mr. Castles' hands, and must beused for that alone. You can compel me to keep my word," smiling.

  "I don't doubt you at all," said Mr. Mulford. "I'd trust you without thescratch of a pen."

  "But that wouldn't be business."

  Jenny brought in some cake, and some very nice root beer. If the ladieschose they could have a cup of tea.

  Mrs. Van Dorn thought she would.

  Then they talked about Jenny's wedding. Helen was to go to New York onSaturday, and on Friday of next week was due at Aldred House.

  "I'm awful sorry you can't come to the wedding," said Jenny. "We'regoing away for a week, then we shall have a house-warming at my house.I'm going to be married at noon, so the relatives can get home beforenight. And I'm sure I wish you loads of good luck. It is just wonderful.Mother'll get over it, and be just as proud as anybody. Father thinks itjust right, and Joe says it's like something out of a story book. He'sfond of stories, and used to read them to his mother. I shan't mind hisreading to me, for I'll sew and crochet."

  "And I know you'll be happy, Jenny. I wish you all the good things. AndI could--stay all night," hesitatingly.

  "No, I wouldn't. Come over and spend Friday, then mother'll be in abetter humor," laughing. "But father'll miss you dreadfully. He'd lottedon your taking my place. Well, we'll all miss you, but it's such asplendid chance. You'll let her come over on Friday?" to Mrs. Van Dorn."Then my wedding gown will be done. It's white lansdowne. I thought Iwouldn't splurge in silk or satin. Lansdowne will dye when it's soiled."

  Mrs. Van Dorn promised for Friday, and they said their good-bys. Helenran out to the kitchen porch, and kissed Uncle Jason.

  "There were two votes against it," said Mrs. Van Dorn dryly. "I think Ican understand your aunt, but I don't see the force of Mr. Warfield'sreasoning. Your cousin seems a
nice, sensible girl."

  How the days flew! One of the neighbors took her over Friday morning.Joe and Jenny would bring her back. And she had a really happy time.Jenny took her down to the house, and it was attractively nice andcomfortable, even if Jenny had tacked up some advertising pictures inher chamber, and the dining-room. There was an old-time door-yard withits long rows of flowers. Joe was a master hand for flowers. Thevegetable garden was in excellent order, and did not look ragged, asgardens were wont to do in early autumn. There had been a second crop ofseveral things, which betokened thrift on Joe's part. Yes; Jenny wouldbe very happy. People _were_ different, and the same pursuits andpleasures could not satisfy all alike.

  "I'm glad you are going to that school, Helen. You would never haveliked working in the shop. It's suited me well enough, because I've beenthinking of the money. I have two hundred dollars in the bank in my ownname, and Joe is going to let me have the butter and egg money. But Idon't know how I'll keep busy all the time, though I can help motherwith the sewing. She'd counted so much on you. And she thinks now----"Jenny looked at Helen, and laughed merrily, "that if Mrs. Van Dorn wouldput the money out at interest that she's going to spend on you the nexttwo years, it would be ever so much better for you."

  "No, it wouldn't," returned Helen decisively. "Beside, what good reasonwould she have for doing such a thing? She knows I am just wild for aneducation. There are so many splendid knowledges in the world," and thegirl's face was brilliant with eagerness.

  "You've changed some way, Helen. I guess you always were a littledifferent, though." Jenny seemed studying her from head to foot. "You'retaller. My, if you had on long skirts, you'd be a young lady."

  "I just want to be a girl for ever so long. Mrs. Van Dorn doesn't wantme grown up."

  "And I went in the shop when I was only half-past fourteen," laughing."I made mother let me wear long skirts, and when I was fifteen Joe beganto come round and bring me home from cottage meeting and singing school,but his mother didn't like it a bit. She wouldn't have let him marry ifshe had lived, but I was willing to wait and that maddened her. Now ifshe'd been nice, I'd a' been real glad to have her round. And I say tomother, don't you be getting cranky and snappy so as no one will want tolive with you when you get old. Isn't that Mrs. Van Dorn rather queer?"

  "She is so bright and intelligent, and has traveled about so much andread almost everything. Why I've learned about countries and theirgovernment, and what they do at Washington, and about Congress and ourown capital, and the cities and towns that have mayors, and boroughs,and villages."

  "Oh dear, all that would set me crazy!" interrupted Jenny, holding upher hand in entreaty. "I guess you _do_ take after your father. Well mylife suits me best. Just imagine me marrying a man like Mr. Warfield!Why I shouldn't know what to do--I'd rather work in the shop and havefun with the girls. But if all these things suit you, you ought to havethem, when they are offered out and out to you."

  "I am glad _you_ think so;" and she gave Jenny's arm a caressing littlesqueeze.

  "And I do hope you won't get so big feeling that you will be too grandto notice us. I'd like you to come next summer in vacation and make me anice long visit. I think I'll be able to stand book learning for awhile;" with her rather boisterous laugh. "And oh, you won't forget towrite to father."

  "No indeed," with tender warmth. "I never loved Uncle Jason so much asthis last summer, though he's always been good to me."

  "And he thinks a mighty sight of you, I can tell you," returned Jenny.

  Then they walked homeward. There was a great ado bidding Helen good-by.Aunt Jane gave her some severely good advice, which was quitesuperfluous, seeing that she would not recognize the change in thegirl's life.

  Uncle Jason put both arms around her and kissed her tenderly.

  "Be a good, honest, truthful girl," he said in a rather broken voice,"and then all the learning in the world won't hurt you."

  The next morning there were some more good-bys. Joanna's was reallytouching.

  "There's a good deal of knowledge it's nice to have," she said, "but Ithink your pretty ways must have come natural. And you do beat all atdrying dishes."

  Mrs. Dayton felt almost as if she was giving up a child. Would it havebeen better for her to have remained at Hope?

  She was really astonished at the commotion the event created. Wasn't ita great risk to have Helen Grant go off with a strange woman? Just as ifschools in Hope were not good enough!

  "I never saw anything wonderful in Helen Grant," said Mrs. Graham. "Mr.Warfield pushed her ahead when he should have been taking pains withothers, and I'll venture to say he helped her out with that examination.She couldn't have gone to the High School anyhow. And Jason Mulford isas stuck up as a telegraph post over her luck. We'd all laugh if it fellthrough in a year!"

  As for Helen there were several days of living in absolute fairyland.The Hotel was a veritable palace to her, the ladies, queens andprincesses. As for the stores they were beyond any description, only shethought they had been rehearsed in "Walks about Paris," but she wassometime to see the difference.

  Mrs. Van Dorn displayed excellent taste in selecting Helen's wardrobe.It was simply pretty, fit for a girl in the ordinary walks of life. Hermeasurements were left with madame, who, from time to time would sendher what was suitable and necessary.

  She had been such a charming companion that Mrs. Van Dorn really hatedto give her up. If she were only two or three years older! Herenthusiasms were so fresh and infectious, her health was so perfect, herreadiness, her pleasant temper, the pretty manner in which she took anycheck or counsel, appealed curiously to the worn old heart stillhankering after something all its own, that should exhilarate and bringher back to some of the freshness of youth. Two years. Well, there werewomen who lived to ninety-six, or even a hundred. She would take goodcare of herself and have this enjoyment in her later years.

  Miss Gage took Helen to Westchester. It was a beautiful town with oldtrees and old substantially-built houses. It was the county town also,and twice a year presented quite a stirring aspect. The inhabitants wererefined and intelligent. Four different denominations had churches. Alovely winding river ran on one side, full of suggestive nooks, dividingit from a neighboring State. A smaller one ran nearly through thecenter, crossed by several rustic bridges. Toward the east there was arather high bluff going up, a woody sort of crest, and on this stoodAldred House, though it fronted on Elm Avenue. There were two terraces,and two short flights of steps to reach it, and a great wide verandawhere a Virginia creeper and honeysuckle were burnishing their leaves inthe sun.

  "Oh," sighed Helen with a long indrawn breath and luminous eyes, "tellMrs. Van Dorn that I shall be perfectly happy here, I know I shall."

  And Mrs. Van Dorn wondered when the message was repeated. Youth waseasily caught by newness. What if Helen should be weaned away by otherfriends? And there were girls born students who could not be satisfiedunless with some profession or business. What if she should be one ofthese? The jealous old heart wanted all of her, all of the Babylon shemeant to build with its pleasant gardens and fascinating nooks ofvariety. Well, Helen had cared for her old uncle, and she, Mrs. Van Dornwould be a hundred times better to her.

  The reception room was cozy, with one open bookcase, some pictures, agreat oriental jar full of trailing clematis and blazing sumac branches.Mrs. Aldred came in, a rather tall, sweet-faced woman with a voice thatwon at once, and a manner that had a welcome in it.

  "I am very glad to have you come, and glad that I could oblige Mrs. VanDorn in any way. I hope you will soon feel at home," she exclaimed.

  "Oh, it is so lovely everywhere! And the journey for the last mile ortwo where you caught glimpses of the river, and in one place a greatpile of rocks big enough to shelter some of the old Norse gods wasenchanting. We have only one poor little river at home and there is butone really beautiful place in it. And I am sure I shall like to livehere."

  An enthusiastic girl, thought Mrs. Aldred. A fine, intelli
gent facealso, perhaps too romantic.

  Miss Gage gave her few charges and said good-by, as she was to catch areturn train. It was early afternoon. Several of the scholars hadarrived and were settling their rooms. Then Helen's trunk came up. Mrs.Aldred had been taking her through the long parlor on the opposite sideof the hall, and the dining room, where instead of one long table,several small ones were cozily arranged. Back of this, toward the bluff,was the schoolroom, and the study room, with several small ones forrecitations.

  "I wonder if you would like best to be alone in a room or have acompanion?" questioned Mrs. Aldred. "I sometimes give girls a choice."

  "I like folks," returned Helen, frankly. "That is----" pausing ratherconfusedly.

  "If they are agreeable?"

  "Yes," said Helen, smiling.

  "I will give you a room where you _may_ have a companion if you like.Some girls get homesick at first if they are alone."

  "Oh, I shall not be homesick," she exclaimed with gay assurance.

  Up the broad staircase they trooped, though there were two smaller onesconvenient to many of the rooms. There was a long corridor with smallrooms opening on the one side, and a cross hall leading to those infront. In the double rooms were screens arranged to insure as muchprivacy as one cared for. A white bed, a sort of closet withbook-shelves above, a bureau and dressing table, a wardrobe built inthe wall, a wicker arm chair and a rocking chair, with a large hassockand a small one.

  "Now," said Mrs. Aldred, "when your trunk comes you will empty it andput your clothes away, and the servant will take it to the trunk room."

  It came up in a few moments. Then Mrs. Aldred left her with some kindlywishes.

  Helen went to the window. It overlooked the southwest. There were topsof trees, then a depression that was the river, and over beyond fieldsgolden in the sunshine,--that was the stubble of grain, others a dullbrown with here and there a bit of green weed pushing up sturdily sincethe hay had been cut, young winter wheat over beyond, houses, farms,rising ground again and woodlands. Far over to the westward were thegrand hills of another State. It was so much more beautiful than all theHopes with their levels.

  This wonderful thing had happened to her. Hardly a year, indeed it wasat the beginning of the present year that Mr. Warfield had gone at herrather fiercely, she thought, and told her there was no use of dawdlingand that she must pass for the High School.

  "But I can't go to the High School," she had protested. That lookedimpossible.

  "No matter, you can pass," he had said so sternly that she wondered whypeople must be cross when they were so much nicer in a pleasant mood.

  Then Aunt Jane began to talk of next year when she should be throughschool. She roused suddenly, she "took hold" as people say and foundthat life meant something. Perhaps it was the growth out of childhood,the development of mind; country children were not analytical. She beganto wonder about things, to ask questions that pleased Mr. Warfield andtormented Aunt Jane, and all these events, more than had come in thethirteen and a half years before, had happened in this little space oftime. Eight months only.

  "Oh dear, I wonder if things, incidents, come this way to all girls. Iwonder if there is a time when you wake up," and she looked steadily atthe sky with its drifts of gray white clouds as if it could answer.

  "Well, I do suppose Jenny woke up, too. She wanted to go in the shop andearn money. Sam doesn't seem very wide awake, though he means to learn atrade. Yes, I think there must be diverse gifts. Oh, it's just glorioushere! I wish Mrs. Van Dorn could know."

  She did know one day before she sailed and her heart thrilled with awarmth it had not known in a long while. Clara was serene, useful,patient, but she _did_ lack enthusiasm.

  There were steps and voices, gay laughs, some new girls had come, someold ones rushed out to welcome them. Helen turned and saw her trunks andbegan to devote herself to unpacking. There was a best hat in acompartment. She opened the wardrobe door and on the shelf were two hatboxes. That was settled. The small articles she laid on the rug, andlifted out the tray. Then came the gowns and skirts, the shirtwaists andall the paraphernalia. She found places for them. But here were two veryprecious belongings, the Madonna she had once coveted, and a tall vaseof roses with a few fallen leaves so natural that one felt inclined tobrush them off. There was also an extremely fine photograph of Mrs. VanDorn. Of course the artist had done his best and turned back the hand oftime; she was not over fifty that day.

  Helen was much interested in "settling." There were hooks for herpictures, so she stood up on a chair and hung them. There were severalpretty table ornaments, her writing desk with its outfit.

  Some one tapped at the partly-opened door. She found a brightrosy-cheeked girl with a fluff of golden red hair, and a laughing face.

  "You are one of the new girls," exclaimed a merry voice. "I'm Roxy Mays,not half as hard as my name sounds. In full its Roxalana. I've triedseveral other ways of shortening it, but they are delusions and snares.I was named after a rich old great-aunt, she was my sponsor andconsented to promise I should renounce everything desirable. Why is itthat rich people have such ugly names and are always wanting toperpetuate them, or do you get rich on an ugly name? There ought to besome compensation. Now--have you any objection to stating yours beforesupper time?"

  "Mine is Helen Grant."

  "Oh, that is splendid and strong and easy to call. There was Helen Mar,and Helen of Troy, and several other famous Helens. Well, I like yourname to begin with. Are you going to be a doctor?"

  "A doctor!" Helen gave a little shudder.

  "Oh, that settles it. You haven't the courage for all you look so brave.Two of our last year's graduates have chosen that walk in life. One goesto New York bound to work her way through, the other to Wellesley. Sevenyears of study, think of it and weep!"

  "But if she loves to study?"

  "Depravity of taste. Spider, ask in this timid fly hovering about yourgates," and as Helen stepped back with a gesture of the hand Miss Maysentered and glanced around, though she kept on talking. "Do you likegetting settled, and are you not bothered about the right places?--oh,"with almost a shriek--"you have that lovely Bodenhausen Madonna! I havethe Sichel and I never can decide which I like best. And then GabrielMarx, and Dangerfield! We're not hopelessly modern, for I have theSistine. Nearly every girl has it. And oh, who is this handsome woman? ADuchess at the very least!"

  "That is--a dear friend," Helen flushed. "That must have been taken whenshe was younger. She is quite old now."

  "Elderly. There may be old men and old peasant women in pictures, butthe living women are simply elderly. Well, one wouldn't mind growingold if one could look like that. Have you ever been away at schoolbefore?"

  "No," returned Helen.

  "North, South, East or West? Brevity is the soul of wit. I sometimes setup for a wit when I can do it on a small capital."

  "Rather southerly from here," laughed Helen. "A little country placecalled Hope Center."

  "Hope Center. Helen Grant. Well that has a sound! You will do. What elseare you going to put up?"

  "I haven't anything else."

  "That's delightful. Most girls bring so much from home, to cry over. Youdon't really look like the crying kind. And school girl treasuresaccumulate fearfully. It's nice to have a place to put the new ones."

  She had a small photograph of Mrs. Dayton in her writing desk. There hadnot been any keepsakes to bring.

  "Won't you come and be introduced to some of the girls? They are inDaisy Bell's room."

  "Wouldn't I----" she hesitated.

  "Be an intruder? Oh dear no. The sooner you get over these things thebetter. Come!"

  She took Helen's hand and led her to a room two or three doors down. Thescreens had been pushed aside. On one bed sat two girls, two others werehanging pictures and spreading bric-a-brac on brackets and shelves. Oneof the girls was still in short skirts, and Helen felt secretly glad.This was Daisy Bell.

  "Oh, thank goodness you're not grown up," cri
ed Daisy, eyeing her fromhead to toe. "I wept, I prayed, I entreated for long skirts, and Icouldn't move my mother, any more than the rock of Gibraltar."

  "Well, you're not a senior. Why should you care?"

  "How old are you, Miss Grant?"

  "Past fourteen the last of June."

  "Oh, how tall for that! I'm fifteen. But I have two older sisters, andthey are always saying 'That child, Daisy,' as if I was about seven. Howmany sisters have you?"

  "None. And no father or mother."

  "You poor wretched orphan!"

  Helen's first day at Aldred House.--_Page 192._]

  "She doesn't look a bit wretched, Roxy Mays," said a girl who had beensurveying her. "The juniors are all down there," nodding toward thelower end of the hall, "so you might have known she wasn't 'sweet andtwenty.'"

  "At what age do you begin to grow sweet so as to get ready for thetwenty?"

  "Oh, girls, don't let's hurry into the twenty. I'd like to stay sixteenthree years, and seventeen four years."

  "I wish they'd made the years longer. There could have been anothermonth or two put in vacation time."

  "What is Hope Center like?" asked one of the girls. "It doesn't soundlike a city."

  "It's the country, farms mostly. North Hope is the real town part, andquite pretty, with stores, and churches, and a library, and a small butnice park."

  "There's a lovely old park here. Everything is old. There are the oldestwomen you ever saw. One of them shook hands with Lafayette."

  "And I've shaken hands with ever so many people and not a Lafayette or aWashington among them," declared Roxy most lugubriously.

  "Now look, girls, would you hang this picture here?"

  "I think it's rather dark. Bring it over here."

  "Yes, that's better. No one asks Miss Grant to sit down."

  "'No stars were shining in the sky-- There were no stars to shine.' No chairs were idly standing round, In schools they never do abound,"

  laughed Daisy Bell. "Miss Grant, sit on the bed. It won't break down."

  "Oh, I don't mind," returned Helen.

  "What I am to do with all these things!" moaned Daisy, glancinghelplessly about.

  "Miss Grant has begun sensibly. She did not cart a lot of truck awayfrom home."

  Helen had a mind to say humorously "There was no truck to cart," but twoothers began to talk at once, and she wondered how they could say suchbright merry things. It seemed as if she had never seen real girlsbefore.

  Then Daisy finished up and they went down on the big back porch wherechairs were plenty and hammocks were swung. Helen was introduced toanother bevy of girls, some quite young ladies it seemed. They all wentin to supper presently, and Helen found herself next to Daisy Bell. Thesix girls at this table were all young. Afterwards they went out ofdoors again and Miss Aldred joined them, welcoming several of the newarrivals personally. She had a very sweet face without being reallypretty. She came over to Helen after a few moments and said in a lowtone. "You are Mrs. Van Dorn's _protegee_. I hope you will be very happyamong us."

  "Oh, I am sure I shall," returned Helen.

  At nine there was a hymn sung and a brief prayer. Then the girlsdispersed, and at ten everybody was in bed.