Chapter IV: Want of Charity

LITTLE did May realize how soon her schoolmates would have occasion for charity toward one dear to her as her own right hand.

On her way to school, she met two or three of the girls of her own class, who were talking, but who stopped as soon as she came within hearing. She spoke to them in her usual pleasant tone, but perceived that they were embarrassed, and, more annoyed than she liked to show, she passed on alone.

Before she reached the Academy, she heard Lionel talking in a loud tone to a group around the steps, and at last heard the words:

"How mean! I despise a thief."

"They have found out the guilty one," she thought, hastening forward.

But again, she was surprised that, on seeing her emerge from the field, their loud tones ceased altogether.

"What can it mean?" she asked herself, her cheeks burning.

Usually her appearance was greeted with a shout of welcome; but now no one ventured near her except little Annie Ross, one of the youngest girls in school.

Annie caught her hand and pulled her into the recitation room, which was quite deserted.

"It's a shame," she began in great excitement, "I shouldn't think they'd treat you so, and for nothing at all."

"Why, Annie, what are you talking about?"

The little girl stared. "Why, don't you know? Lionel Trask says Frank has the chain Mr. Monks lost; he told teacher he saw Frank pick it up: but teacher wouldn't believe it. Lionel has made the scholars think so; and they say he's a thief, and call him all sorts of names. Oh, it's dreadful!"

"Does Frank know of this?" asked May, her lip quivering.

"I don't know; but, oh, dear! There's the first bell. I think Lionel is the ugliest, meanest boy I ever saw. I dare say he found the chain himself."

"Don't—oh, Annie! I'm afraid it's wrong for you to feel so."

May understood now why Mr. Monks had said, "you and I know that Frank is innocent." He had heard this awful charge. "Oh, it is too cruel!" she exclaimed, laying her head on the seat.

"I shouldn't think the big girls would act so," continued Annie. "Sophy, and Maria, and Sarah Ann said, they shouldn't speak to you. They called you sister to a thief; and Maggie said, like as not you knew all about it. Everybody said you were awful poor now."

"Don't, don't, Annie; I can't bear it."

She sobbed as if her heart would break. "I must go home; I can't stay," she cried, holding her aching head.

The sound of many feet taking their places in their seats prevented her rushing through the school-room, anywhere to get to her mother, away from all these cruel eyes.

"Go, go, Annie. I can't; you must take your seat. There's Mr. Monks' bell for devotion. Oh! I wish I could get out of the window. Where is Frank?"

Annie peeped through the crack of the door, and said:

"He's in his seat, sitting up just like this," holding herself very erect. "He looks real solemn, though. There, I can't go now, Mr. Monks has begun."

Poor May! This was her first school trial. She dearly loved and trusted her schoolmates. What had she done that they should treat her so cruelly!

She tried to check her sobs, and devise some way of reaching home without being seen; but crying had brought on a blinding headache, and she had lost self-control. The room seemed to whirl around, growing darker and darker every minute, until, with a groan, she fell to the floor.

The bell for study to commence was just ringing when, with a shriek, Annie rushed into the school-room exclaiming:

"She's dead! Oh come! Do come!"

Motioning the scholars to retain their seats, the teacher lifted the poor, unconscious girl in his arms, and carried her, looking whiter than a lily, to the window, directing Annie to bring some water in a dipper.

A few drops sprinkled in her face restored consciousness, and she opened her eyes in wonder.

Annie then in a breathless manner, began to relate what had passed.

Mr. Monks grew every moment more stern.

"Poor child!" he murmured, caressingly patting her head.

"Call Frank Jocelyn," he said to Annie.

"Your sister has had a fainting fit, and—"

"Who, May? Is that you, May?" And the brave boy, who would not show how deeply his own heart was wounded, shed tears when told of his sister's affliction.

"We must get her home. Look from the window and see whether Squire Rawson's horse and buggy are still standing at the bank."

"Yes, sir."

"Annie, spread a shawl on the settee. Now, May, I will help you to lie down. You'll feel better, presently."

She shook her head mournfully, and then caught hold of Frank's hand.