Helen Grant''s Schooldays
CHAPTER XVII
IN THE DELIGHTFUL CURRENT
Helen Grant came to Aldred House again on Friday afternoon. Miss Daisy,who had been there but an hour, rushed down to welcome her.
"Oh, dear! If something had happened and you had _not_ come," she cried,"I should really have been broken-hearted, and I don't see what goodSamaritan could have bound up the wounds. And most things are going tobe strange and new."
"New girls?" inquiringly.
"Yes, ever so many of them. There were several Mrs. Aldred could nottake last year. She is closeted with two now, and you may as well comeupstairs at once. I have some new pictures--we will give away the oldones. And the sweetest new willow rocker. But what do you think hashappened to Roxy Mays?"
"Marriage," cried Helen laughingly.
"No, but a fortune. And her oldest sister was married to a designer orsomething who goes abroad to illustrate Russia. The old great-aunt diedsuddenly, and left a good deal of money to Mr. Mays, and ten thousanddollars to Roxy. So her mother and the other sister and she sailed thelast week in August. Of course Roxy is in high feather. And Miss Reidand Miss Gertrude Aldred have gone to Rome under the care of a friend ofMrs. Aldred's. Two of the girls have gone to Leipsic. Oh, dear, I wonderif _we_ will ever go abroad?"
"It is a lovely dream. I do hope to compass it some time," and a longinglight filled Helen's eyes.
"And there is so much to see here. We had a cousin of father's visitingus who had spent seven years in Mexico, and knew President Diaz quitewell. He tells such interesting stories about the wonders there, thediscoveries and the traces of people who must have lived a thousand orperhaps more years ago. Then my brother has a friend who is deep inthose marvelous exhumations in Arizona. Presently we shall be a famouscountry, if we haven't castles and cathedrals."
Helen's trunk came up and she began to unpack. There were some newgowns.
"Are you going in long skirts?" inquired Daisy.
"Not this winter. I should like to be 'only a girl' ever so long," andHelen smiled dreamily. "It seems as if I had been only a very littlegirl thirteen years or so, and now I want to be just a big girl.Womanhood looks so strange and mysterious to me. There are so manythings to be decided then, and now you can hover about the edge, justslip into the surf of that river called the future and then draw back.You don't have to cross it. But some day you must, and shoulder itsresponsibilities."
"How queer and solemn that sounds. And I am a whole year older, and Iought to be ever so much ahead of you."
"You are in Latin and French. I studied up some. I met a delightfulwoman,--well I saw her last summer, and oddly enough she remembered mefrom the books I read,--that I never should have known about but forMrs. Van Dorn. She is the librarian. And we have had such a nice time.She is a college graduate, and she has inspired me with a longing to go.But then I want everything. Travel and music and churches and ruins andhistories of nations that have been swept away, and to climb thepyramids, and to ask the Sphinx her mighty question----"
"_Your_ mighty question as to what secret is in her ponderous brain?"
Both girls laughed heartily, merrily.
"Well, I must say, Helen Grant, your wishes comprise enough for alifetime! And you have left out Paris, and that quaint, delightful,clean, watery Holland, and Moscow, and India."
"There is too much for one lifetime. I wonder if we _do_ come back andtake some of the pleasures in the life afterward? But then we don'tremember what has gone before, so where is the benefit?"
"There are ever so many new girls," said Daisy presently.
"I wonder if we haven't a small share of duty towards them," remarkedHelen, considering. "I thought it lovely of you girls to come andwelcome me when I was a stranger."
"Roxy was splendid at that. I am not sure but there was some curiosityin it. She liked to get down to the bottom of a girl's soul and life andknow all that had happened to her. And she was very amusing with herbright comments and comparisons. I was desperately in love with her atfirst," and Daisy colored warmly. "Then she said little things aboutother girls that I didn't like. And you were so upright, so generous inyour criticisms, so ready to make allowance. And after all that mistakeabout Miss Craven she was very unwilling to own she had been wrong.Wasn't I fearfully jealous? Didn't I act like a fiend?"
There were tears in Daisy's eyes.
Helen gave a vague smile.
"I can see now that it was somewhat due to Roxy's influence. She keptsaying you were so bewitched about her, and that you were on the lookoutfor new sensations, that you tried on friendships and then cast themoff. I think that was what _she_ did. What a foolishly miserable girl Iwas, but I _did_ love you. And I do, I shall."
Helen kissed her fondly.
"And mamma thought it was very kind in you to take up Miss Craven. Sheis curiously interested in her, wondering how she will develop. Papasays the Craven mines are remarkable, the new one with all that hematiteis a fortune by itself. I hope she comes back."
That evening they made acquaintance with a few of the new girls. And thenext day came a crowd, new and old, Miss Craven among them.
Juliet Craven had changed wonderfully under the influence of a woman whohad always longed for a daughter and had three sons instead. There was abrightness about her, a kind of new interest that shone in her eyes andbrought a tint to her cheeks. A little contrast would have made herquite a pretty girl, for her features were fairly good, but she was toomuch of a nondescript.
For the first time she had known personal interest and affection from awoman who might have been her mother, and who certainly had no ulteriorobject. She had outgrown some of her timidity, she stood up straighter,as if she was more conscious of her own power, and she dared to meet theeyes of the other girls, to answer their smiles. She was to go in mostof the classes this year, though the girls would be much younger, butMrs. Aldred judged that the companionship would prove beneficial.
There were several changes in the teaching corps. A Mrs. Wiley,middle-aged and experienced, who had been employed in a girls' collegein the West, shared with Miss Grace the duties of the senior classes.Her daughter, Miss Esther, taught in the younger day-school classes andwas a pupil in several studies. After a month matters ran alongsmoothly.
Not that the girls fell into the traces without any friction. Some werepert and self-sufficient, others consequential, and several notremarkable for anything, taking mental culture along objective lines,and a few ambitious, intellectual, loving study for the sake of thesweet kernel knowledge when you had cracked the rough outer shell. Therewere the bright and sweet, who had no aims above the average, and whowould get trained into nice, wholesome girls and make good wives andmothers.
Helen enjoyed her studies immensely. The botany rambles were one of hergreat pleasures, and when she went at the wonders of astronomy she wasenraptured.
"Such a student is worth having; she inspires the rest," Mrs. Wiley saidto Mrs. Aldred. "There is a girl who should go to college."
"Yes, she ought," but in her secret soul Mrs. Aldred feared that was notMrs. Van Dorn's design.
She was beginning to understand and love Latin, and doing very well atFrench. She did not display much aptitude for drawing, though she had acertain artistic taste in arrangement.
"But I really do not see any use of hammering away at music," sheprotested. "I never shall make a fine player."
"You will make a fine singer and you want some thorough knowledge forthat," said Madame Meran.
"It was one of the branches Mrs. Van Dorn is very particular about,"Mrs. Aldred added, in a tone that left no room for demur.
There was the usual fun and perhaps a little sly flirting among thenewer students with the young men in the law offices. Autumn was quite alively time, since court was in session. The girls were allowed to visitthe fairs and entertainments of their respective churches, andoccasionally spend Saturday afternoon with an outside acquaintance.
During the holidays Mrs. Dayton wrote that one of the
High-Schoolteachers had resigned and Mr. Warfield had gained the appointment, beingmuch delighted with it, and would board with her. From home she heardthat Jenny had a little son and they were all very joyous. Fan was goingto spend the winter with her. Aurelia had been taken out of school asshe didn't learn anything worth while, and Aunt Jane believed in makingher girls useful.
"I don't wonder teachers get discouraged in a small country place," shethought, "when the parents care so little for education." She was gladMr. Warfield had gone to the High School, where he could have a morecongenial atmosphere.
Helen often wondered in these days what her father had been like, andhow he came to drift to such a dull place as Hope Center. Twenty yearsbefore it had been a center of several things. The Church wasflourishing. In the winter the large boys and girls came to school andthe old-fashioned alligation, mensuration, and surveying were taught andmade useful, the history of the country, parsing out of Milton'sParadise Lost, learning as much about the older English essayists andwriters as was taught in the High School.
Now, the children, before they were fairly grown, went into shops orlearned a trade. There had been a fine debating society in the Center,and people drove in from miles around to listen to the arguments, whichwere generally on stirring questions of the day, psychological fadsbeing unknown, or the highest truth in them called by some other name.
Then the railroad had really cut it off. North Hope had grown at itsexpense.
She thought, too, not a little about her own future. What would happenat the close of the school year. At the first of January she and DaisyBell and a Miss Gardiner went into Senior B. In another year she wouldgraduate.
There was something in Mrs. Van Dorn's letters that appealed to herdeeply at times, an interest that gave her a curious thrill. She wrotemore earnestly herself, she realized what a great thing this had been toher, lifting her out of the common groove and giving her a decidedstanding among Hope people. And, oh! it had afforded her such splendidexperiences with cultured people, some friends who might go a long waythrough life with her and enrich her path with their life.
"If you were going to college, I should want to go too," Daisy Bell saidone day. "Papa would be delighted, I am sure. And though you areyounger, I do not know so very much more," laughingly. "You always studyin such desperate earnest. We should keep step together. Oh, don't youwish we could see into the future?"
Yes, she really did.
Her friendship with Juliet Craven touched another side of her nature.Miss Craven had a vein of peculiar romance. She improvised in music, shecould imitate bird-songs in rare melody, she could go to depths offeeling in a few chords that stirred one's very soul. It was absolutegenius.
"These are the things I used to sing to myself in the old home," shewould say. "Sometimes I would put words to them."
"Why, that would be poetry. Why don't you try to write them down?" Heleninquired with newborn interest.
"There are so many things to study, to learn, to do. I am not prettyenough to attract people, but of course, I know the money would.Sometimes I wish I had only just enough for my own wants. Another year Ishall come into actual possession of a large sum, and three years later,if the mines should be sold, there will be--well, I haven't any idea howmuch more. Mrs. Davis' plan is to take me abroad and find someone with atitle to marry me. What could I do in that kind of life? I wantsomething quiet, far-reaching. I should like to make unfortunate peoplehappy. I wonder if there are any young girls in the world as lonely andas unfortunate as I was! I shudder when I think I might have gone onwith grandfather until all the best years of my life were spent. Mrs.Howard advises me to stay here and get a thorough education, and I thinkthat is best."
Helen was very decided in her opinion that it was by far the best. Howqueer that money should be so unequally divided, Miss Craven having somuch more than she could use, Mrs. Van Dorn having so much, and some ofthe girls with such rich fathers, then others just squeezing through,she really having none at all.
Mrs. Van Dorn was doing just what Miss Craven longed to do. No, not_just_. If Helen had been unpromising she realized keenly that she mighthave gone back to Uncle Jason, or worked her way through the High Schoolas she best might. She knew now, most girls of sixteen do, that anattractive face and manner was an excellent capital. She sometimes gaveherself a little mental hug at the thought of having just the rightshare of good looks, enough to please, and not enough to be vain of,and not the sort of fascination Roxy Mays had possessed. There wereseveral beautiful girls in school. Daisy Bell had many charms, a lovely,subtle, easily-flushing complexion that was like pink and pearl,beautiful even teeth, tender and loving eyes.
"My face is just like me," she comforted herself, looking in the glass."It is strong, earnest, and capable. And I do mean to do something withlife before I die. I hope God will put me in the way of it."
Toward spring there was an episode that now and then happens in a girls'school in spite of the closest supervision. Mrs. Aldred tried to trainthe girls to a high sense of honor, and allowed them a certain liberty,though no one girl ever went out alone. Among the new scholars was apretty, saucy little thing, bright with her lessons and full of fun,seemingly innocent enough. But she had adroitly managed a flirtationwith the brother of one of the day scholars. Letters had passed betweenthem, and she had eluded supervision and taken several strolls with himby climbing over the fence at the back of the grounds, with theassistance of her admirer. The daring went a little too far, and oneevening Miss Wiley saw the return of the culprit, who begged and pleadeda little at first, and then became defiant.
"I don't care," she said angrily. "We are engaged. I knew I wouldn't beallowed to see him alone if he called, and I had a right to his visits."
Mrs. Aldred was surprised and had a rather stormy time with the girl,who was sent home at once.
"Now that Roxy Mays will never come back," said Daisy gravely, "I willsay to you that she did go as far as the letters once. It was with theclerk in Adams' drug store. He gave a note to me and said it was aprescription, and she laughed about it, saying she only did it to provehow easily a girl could write letters and get answers, but that she wasnot going to follow it up, and she knew I would not betray her. It wasthe very week before school closed, and though it wasn't just right Ilet it pass. She still corresponds with him, but now her mother mustknow it. It doesn't seem real fun to me to break rules that way. Isometimes wonder what would have happened if she had returned toschool!"
Helen smiled, thinking of her innocent letter to Mr. Warfield. And nowMrs. Dayton quoted him so often she wondered if that was quite right.
But she did enjoy writing to Mrs. Van Dorn. Often there was only a fewlines from her, the rest finished by Miss Gage, who had a verymethodical manner of going over their doings.
In April an announcement was made that surprised and troubled many ofthe scholars. Mrs. Aldred had decided to go to Europe, taking herdaughter Grace and chaperoning several other young ladies. Gertrude, whohad been studying hard in Paris, would join them, and they would spendthe ensuing winter in Rome. Mrs. Wiley and her daughter would take theschool, keeping it on the same lines.
"I wish you could remain another year and graduate," she said to Helen."I shall write to Mrs. Van Dorn about it. Then you would be fitted forwhatever might happen afterward."
"Oh, thank you!" Helen replied earnestly. "I have been troubled aboutit, and thought I ought to inquire. I should be so sorry to have myschooldays end. I have been so happy here."
No one could doubt it to look at her radiant face. Mrs. Aldred was muchgratified.
Yes, she should hate to part with Daisy now that they were growing sodear to each other. And she felt as if she wanted a life interest inMiss Craven, to know the sort of woman she would make and what she woulddo with her fortune.
It was May when the reply came, a reply that so astounded Helen, evenafter reading the letter over two or three times, that she was stillbewildered. She took it to Mrs. Aldred.
 
; "Yes," that lady rejoined, "you may read mine. Mrs. Van Dorn keeps hermind as fresh as a person of half her age, and she is past eighty. Shehas made all the arrangements."
And the arrangements were that Mrs. Aldred should bring Helen to Pariswith the other young ladies. She was going there and would be ready toreceive her. She was very grateful for the care bestowed upon Helen, shehad been very much gratified with the girl's letters, and this mustanswer until she could express the rest in person.
"And you think--I can't make it seem true," faltered Helen,--"that sucha thing should happen to me?"
"It does not altogether surprise me," Mrs. Aldred answered in areassuring tone. "I surmised this from the beginning. Mrs. Van Dorn tookan unusual fancy to you, and knowing you these two years I must give herpenetration great credit. For certain reasons, I regret you cannot go onwith your education. But you will learn a great deal abroad."
"I feel as if all of life is a school, and you are learning right alongto do what comes next. I have worked hard at the French, and now I seethe use of it. I dare say it will be so with other things. I wish I werea better musician."
"Mrs. Van Dorn will care more for your voice. You can take excellentsinging lessons abroad. Helen, I _do_ congratulate you from the bottomof my heart. And whatever happens I shall always want to be consideredyour sincere friend. I have been very much interested in yourdevelopment, and shall continue so to be."
She bent over and kissed Helen, who returned the caress with muchwarmth.
"You will answer your letter to go by noon to-morrow."
Helen bowed, too much moved to speak.
It was still strange to her. One might dream of an event coming in thefuture, but to have it _here_, to put your hand on it, as one might say,dazed her. Daisy was at a music practice, though she did not think shecould talk it over with anyone just now.
Miss Craven stood hesitatingly in the half open doorway, with beseechingeyes.
"If you are not too very busy--I'm in trouble about the Latin. Oh, if Icould be quick to see into things!" in a passion of regret thatemphasized every line of her face where last year it would have beenunmoved.
"I had an awful time about it, too, so we can sympathize," smilingcheerfully. "I just wanted something to start up my energies."
"Oh, what should I do without you? Shall I ever be able to go on alone?"
"Think what you have accomplished in the two years," was the reassuringanswer.
There was a saunter around the grounds afterwards, meeting severalgroups of girls and flinging bright jests at each other. Then dinner,the study period, some conversation and it was bedtime. But Helen couldnot sleep. She smiled to herself as she wondered what Mr. Warfield wouldsay and there was a consciousness that he would think her only halfeducated. Well, could one ever be wholly educated at sixteen?--even atsixty, professors are learning new things. And, oh, what a stir it wouldmake all through the Hopes!
She was up early the next morning. Daisy was asleep in her little whitebed with a smile on her face. Yes, she would hate to leave her and MissCraven, and several others. She slipped on her lovely Japanese silkmorning gown, she reveled in pretty garments nowadays, though they wereall befitting a girl of sixteen, and picking up her portfolio she glidedsoftly down to the study room.
Oh, what a morning it was! The sun was throwing out long shining rays inthe east and they glistened on the tree-tops, on the distant hills, onthe wide slopes, leaving the nooks and haunts in suggestive darkness.Just a dainty little mist fit for dryad robes lingered about. And hereat the back, down to the small stream, dogwoods and late red maples andhorse-chestnuts were in bloom. Could there be a lovelier picture? HadEurope anything better? And the fragrance might have come from Araby theblest. It was all youth and freshness, and it took her back to thesummer of two years ago when everything wonderful had just dawned uponher.
In this mood she wrote her letter. All her life long she was glad shehad not come to second thoughts, about the matter, but kept the firstthoughts of joyous youth and gladness and gratefulness. The rising bellrang and she hurried along, wrote her last word at the next summons andsealed her letter.
"Where have you been?" cried Daisy at the apparition in trailing gown,as she opened her eyes.
"Writing a letter in the study." Then she hurried into skirt and waistand joined the group going downstairs, giving bright good-mornings toone and another.
"I can't think what ails you," cried Daisy in astonishment. "Youlook--enchanted and--frightened."
"I will tell you--the first of anybody. It is so strange I hardlybelieve it myself."
They were all striving their utmost, this group of girls. Examinationswere so near, pictures were to be finished, little gifts made to beexchanged, remembrances of one's handiwork. An excursion across theriver to add pages to their lore on wild flowers which were to bepressed and put in books. A lecture on Browning that evening down at thetown-hall, and Mrs. Wiley was to take a host of girls.
"If he only would read 'Herve Riel'!" said Helen. And to think she mightsee the very place where the ships came in safely. It would be worthmuch to her.
There is always a reaction from an exalted state, and this came to HelenGrant. By degrees she remembered what she might be giving up, what shemight be called upon to do. If Miss Gage was coming home, she would takeher place, and be companion, have the whims, the impatience, and therestlessness to contend with. She had experienced some of it already.Past eighty--why, that was old age, decrepitude presently, loss ofmemory--some old people had to be told things over and over again. Shehad never thought of real old age in connection with Mrs. Van Dorn. Andshe would spend all her bright young years--there would be no furtherdelightful school, no graduation, no college, and she _did_ love studyso.
Mrs. Van Dorn had given her these two splendid years, but if she askedback ten, and she was so confident of living to ninety--oh, could shegrant it cheerfully? There would have to be some greater grace than herown. And if God gave her this to do--if the friends of girlhood weredenied her, if Mrs. Van Dorn claimed _all_, would she have to submit?
It was a hard question for sixteen who had only enjoyed two years offreedom about the things she loved best, the thing she wanted most,education.
She told Daisy Bell, who didn't know whether to rejoice or not. It wassplendid, of course, but if she should be away for years and all theirlovely friendship come to an end!
"For I am sure I shall never find a girl I love so thoroughly, that Idepend on, that is a strong tower to me. Mamma said my letters had beenher treasures this year, I was taking so much more serious and sacredviews of life. And they will be dismal enough next winter."
"Then I am afraid I haven't done you much good," Helen smiled throughtears.
"Yes, you have. And I will try to remember all the nice talks we havehad and keep strong on them. We will appoint one hour in the day when weshall always think of each other."
"And pray that God may give us grace to remember for years if there isneed," Helen returned solemnly.
Miss Craven was glad for her. "It must be wonderful to have a personcare that much for you," she said, "to want to keep you near her. Why,it is almost as mothers feel, I suppose. I couldn't bear the thought ofyou being away alone--if you _were_ alone I should ask you to come andbe a sister to me. I don't know how I can get along without you, but Imust try and comfort myself with the thought of what you have been tome. And, oh, if you should be absent years, I will come over. Why, Ishould like to see the dear old lady who loves you so."
Helen felt almost convicted of ingratitude.