Chapter III: The Little Bird That Carried the Matter

FLORA LESTER and Emma Hausen went to the same school—the primary, or, as it was called, the Kindergarten, department of "Hausen Institute." This was a large, flourishing, and richly endowed girls' school, in the pretty village of Round Springs. Hausen School, as it was usually called, was a very nice place. It was not a grand "institution," with long halls and little rooms, and numberless rules and regulations, and a wonderful "system," which required so much time to develop it, that there was no time left to take care of the girls.

The school building had originally been a substantial square brick mansion, such as one sees in our pretty country villages; but a room had been added here and another there, a large, airy gymnasium on one side, and some equally airy and spacious class-rooms on the other. You were always coming on little snug bedrooms and study-rooms in unexpected corners, with "engaged" cards hung on the doors, to denote that the inmates were busy, and must not be intruded on. There was a very fine library, containing not only what are usually called "standard works," but a great many curious, interesting, and readable books besides. Behind the house were large grounds, at present somewhat rough and neglected, but none the worse for that in the eyes of the little girls, who found beautiful places for play-houses among the rocks, and nice seats on the roots of the old trees. The health of the young ladies was carefully looked after, and their comfort promoted in every possible way.

But we have nothing to do at present with any part of the school except the primary department, or Kindergarten, presided over by Miss Van Ness and Miss Garland. In this department, Florry Lester and Emma Hausen were the oldest girls; and they were already beginning to feel tall, and out of place, in the midst of the children. Promotion in Hausen School depended not on age, but on scholarship and good conduct, and both Florry and Emma hoped to be advanced to the "fourth class," which was the first step in the upper school, at the coming term-day. Florry felt pretty sure about herself; but she was not so confident about Emma, who was, it must be confessed, a little apt to be idle and giddy. She had thought the matter over, and had secretly made up her mind that, if Emma should be put back for a term, she would ask leave to wait for her, that they might be promoted together.

Emma's grandfather had founded the school, and her uncle was its president; and some of the girls said Miss Van Ness favoured Emma on that account; but Florry insisted that this was not the case.

"Miss Van Ness is too impartial," she said, one day. "She stands up so straight that she leans over. She notices things in Emma that she would not see at all in anybody else; and that is one reason why Emma gets so many more marks than I do."

It may be that, in this matter, Florry was misled by her affection for her friend. But certain it was, that Emma was very unlucky in the matter of getting marks. She was apt to forget herself during the "hour of silence," and begin studying aloud, or whispering to her neighbour. Then she was always getting into trouble because she never could say "No" when asked to lend her pencils or her books; for it was one of the very few strict rules of the school, that there should be no borrowing without express permission, but that every girl must have what was necessary for her school-work. This was a very good rule, and, if it had been kept, would have saved a deal of trouble; but Emma always had plenty of spare pens and pencils; and, as she said, she hated to be disobliging. I suspect the real truth was that she disliked the trouble of saying "No;" and thus she was always getting "marks," and being obliged to answer "Yes" when asked if she had broken any rules of the school.

"But why will you keep on lending, Emma, when you know that it is against the rules?" asked Florry, one night, when Emma was crying and saying, "It is too bad! I never have half a chance!"

"If you only lent to the girls you like, and that like you, I wouldn't mind so much; though even then I don't think you ought to break rules: but you lend to Lavinia Stephens, and get into trouble for her, when you know you don't like her, and that she just lives by sponging on the other girls."

"Well, I know she will think I am mean, if I don't."

"And suppose she does; what harm will that do you?" asked Florry, very sensibly. "I should think you would care more for what your father and mother and Miss Van Ness think, than you do for Lavinia Stephens."

Emma didn't know, only that it was not very pleasant to refuse; and nobody liked to do disagreeable things. In fact, Emma was one of those people with whom a little present inconvenience outweighs any amount of discomfort in the future. If promotion had depended only on answers given at an examination, Emma would soon have "caught up" and passed Florry; for she was very quick to learn when she gave her mind thereto. But this was not the case in Hausen School. It was the record throughout the term which decided whether any girl should be promoted at the end; and for this reason, Florry's chances were much better than Emma's.

"Now, Emma," said Florry, as they were riding down to school that morning, "you don't mean to get any marks this week, do you? You know this is the last of the term, and half a dozen marks may make all the difference."

"I suppose you think you are certain of being promoted?" said Emma.

"No: I don't feel at all sure; and, anyhow, I don't want to go up unless you do. I should feel so strange and lonely in the fourth grade all by myself."

"You know all the girls in the fourth grade, don't you?"

"Yes, all the day-scholars; but I don't care much for any of them, except your cousin Winifred. And, anyhow, I don't want to go up unless you do. So, please, Emma, do be careful. You have not had any marks this week yet, have you?"

"Only one," said Emma, rather reluctantly.

"Oh, Emma, how could you?"

"You needn't say anything," said Emma, feeling very much vexed, she hardly knew why. "Lending isn't as bad as stealing, anyway."

Florry turned her head away and looked out of the window, without saying a word.

"There, now, I am sorry I said that," exclaimed Emma. "It was real mean in me. Oh, please, don't cry!" as she peeped round into Florry's face and saw the tears falling from her eyes. "Please do forgive me, Florry, won't you? Oh, I am so sorry. Please do forgive me, and I never, never will say such a word again."

It was not in Florry's nature to be unforgiving; especially where Emma was concerned. Truth to say, her forgiving nature was called into exercise pretty often; for Emma was one of those people who say whatever they happen to think at the moment, without regard to consequences; which would be all very well, if one were sure always of thinking what it was right to say.

Florry "made up friends" with Emma, as she had done a hundred times before; but never had any one of Emma's hasty speeches wounded her like this. It is comparatively easy to bear unjust faultfinding. It is the true reproach which stings.

Florry was very grave and silent all day; and in the afternoon she looked so pale, that Miss Van Ness asked her if she was not well.

"My head aches, Miss Van Ness; and last night I hurt my shoulder and side with the windlass of the well, and it pains me very much," answered Florry. "Please excuse me from writing. My arm is so lame."

"I think it is best to excuse you altogether," said Miss Van Ness, kindly. "You had better go home and lie down; and, Emma, you may go with her, if you please, as you have done all your lessons so well to-day."

The next day, Florry's arm was so stiff that she could not raise it at all, and her father thought she had better stay quietly at home. Florry was not at all sorry to do so, for the more she thought about her fault, the more sorry and ashamed she felt; and it seemed to her that everybody must know all about it.

It was not till Friday morning that Florry came to school again. This Friday was a very important day. It was the end of the term, and in the afternoon all the school would be assembled in the great room to hear the reports read, which would determine their standing for the next term.

Emma was feeling very happy and very confident. She had really been careful for the last two weeks, and she had only been marked twice; and she had somehow settled it in her own mind that these two weeks were to out-balance all the rest of the term. Florry would have liked to think so, too; but she could not bring herself to do so. She had kept an accurate account of her own standing and Emma's, a thing Emma never thought of doing; and she felt pretty sure that her friend would be put back.

"But I won't go up unless she does," decided Florry, as she stopped at the house of Mrs. Mansfield, where she was to do an errand for her father. "If I pass and Emma does not, I will just ask father and Mr. Hausen to let me stay down till the end of next term; and then I can go over the geography again with Miss Van Ness."

The Mansfields had lately come to Round Springs to live, and had bought one of the finest houses in the village, which they had furnished at a great expense. They had only two children: Emmeline, who was a grown-up young lady, and Matilda or Tilly, who was a year younger than Florry Lester, and who came to the Kindergarten. Tilly was no great favourite with the girls, who accused her of "feeling grand" and putting on airs, because her father was rich and came from New York; and perhaps there was some truth in the accusation. If so, it was more Tilly's misfortune than her fault; for she had always been used to hear money talked about as if it had been the all-important thing, beside which nothing was of any great consequence.

"Oh, Florry!" said Tilly, meeting her school-mate in the hall. "I am so glad to see you. Did you come for me to go to school with you?"

"No," said Florry; "I came to do an errand for father; but we can go to school together, unless I have to go home first."

"Well, come up to my room with me. I want to show you something."

Florry had no objections to see a little of Mr. Mansfield's house, about which she had heard so much, and she followed Tilly up-stairs to her own room. The house was indeed furnished "regardless of expense," as the saying is; but Florry noticed, as she passed through the parlours, that there were no books, and very few magazines or papers, and that, though there were some large pictures, they were more remarkable for their expensive gilt frames than for anything else. Besides, the colours of the carpets and curtains did not suit each other, and the furniture did not seem at all as if it had been made for comfortable use.

"It looks like a hotel," thought Florry, to herself: "I think our little house is much prettier. It looks as if everything was saying, 'See how much I cost!'"

Tilly's room, however, was more to her taste. Tilly loved story-books, and she had a great many of them; there were some really pretty "chromos" on the walls, and on a bracket in one corner stood a lovely little statuette.

"What a pretty room!" said Florry.

"Yes, I think it is pretty," answered Tilly, very much pleased. "My aunt Maria picked out the furniture and the pictures for me."

"I think they are lovely," said Florry; "and how many books you have, Tilly."

"Yes; I buy some every time I go to the city. Pa says it is all nonsense spending so much money for books, because they don't make any show, and you never can sell them for half what they cost; but he lets me spend my money as I like. Don't you want to borrow some of them, Florry? Take any you please. There is father calling me. Just look over the shelves, while I see what he wants; will you?"

Florry selected a couple of volumes, and by the time she had done so, Tilly came back.

"Papa would like to have your father come up and see Emmeline," said she.

"Then I must run home and tell him before he goes out," said Florry. "See, Tilly, I have taken these two books; and I will lend you any of mine that you like."

"But just wait a minute. I want to show you my birthday present," and Tilly displayed, with some pride, a very pretty little watch and gold chain, and a handsome enamelled locket. "I mean to wear them to school this morning."

"I wouldn't," said Florry. "You might lose them or something. And besides, Miss Van Ness wouldn't like it. Come, walk along with me as far as the school."

"I can't. I must change my dress first. Do you think you will get promoted to-day, Florry?"

"I am sure I don't know," answered Florry, rather absently.

"Well, do you think Emma will? She thinks so, I know, because she has been so good the last two weeks."

"I don't know," answered Florry, again. "It doesn't depend on the last two weeks, you know. But good-by, Tilly, I must go. Thank you for the books."

Tilly dressed herself for school, and, after some consideration, put on her new watch and chain; for she could not resist the desire she felt to show them off: Mr. Mansfield lived on a back street, parallel to that on which the school stood. His grounds joined those of the school at the back, and for Tilly's convenience, he had constructed a path and a stile, which shortened his daughter's daily journeys very much.

Tilly crossed the stile, and the first thing she saw was Emma Hausen, seated on a rock, close under the wall, and studying with all her might.

"Why, Emma! What are you doing here?" she asked.

"Studying my history. I forgot to take my book home; and I am so afraid I shall miss, I don't know what to do. Dear me, how fine you are!" she exclaimed, seeing Tilly's chain and locket. "But you don't mean to wear those to school, do you?"

"Why not?" asked Tilly.

"Because all the girls will laugh at you," answered Emma. "They always do if any one wears anything fine. I wouldn't, Tilly."

"I think I have a right to wear my own watch," said Tilly, pouting.

"Of course you have; but then, you know, you don't want to be laughed at," said Emma, who spoke from pure good-nature. "I never wear mine; but mother says I may when I get into the upper school, because I shall need it then. If I were you, I would carry the watch home again."

"I sha'n't have time, and I don't want to go back home," said Tilly, who dreaded being laughed at. "I will tell you what I will do. See, here is a nice dry hollow under this great rock. I will put it in there, and lay another stone over it; and it will be just as safe as if it were in my drawer at home. Then I can get it when I come back this way."

"Just as you like," said Emma, intent upon her lesson. "Only don't forget where you put it."

"I suppose you will come to school all the same, Emma, whether you are promoted or not," remarked Tilly, as she secured her watch by laying a large stone over the hole where she had placed it.

"Yes, I suppose so," answered Emma, rather impatiently. "Only I shall not be here for the first few days. We are going to the city this afternoon, and may not be home till Thursday or Friday. There's the first bell. Oh, dear, I wish, it was all over! Come, Tilly, we shall be late."

The school exercises went on as usual in the morning. At noon, Tilly walked home by the street, discussing with the other girls the chances of promotion for one and another, and came back the same way. In the afternoon the whole school, boarders and all, were assembled in the large room. The trustees, with the president of the school at their head, took their seats on the raised platform, and the friends of the pupils had a place by themselves. There was a prayer and some singing; and then Mr. Richard Hausen, the president, rose to read the reports, amid a profound silence. The little girls came first, and then the elder ones. Florry and Emma, seated together, listened breathlessly till Mr. Hausen came to the "promotions" and read:

"Promoted to the fourth grade: Flora Lester, Eva Church, Anna Talbot. Highest standing for all things, Flora Lester."

Poor Emma! She had succeeded in persuading herself that she should certainly pass this time, and it was a terrible disappointment not to hear her name. And such a mortification, too. She must stay behind—in the baby-room, as she disdainfully called the Kindergarten, while two such little things as Eva Church and Anna Talbot mounted over her head. They would learn their lessons in the great class-room, and go out sailing and riding with the young ladies, while she would remain, the only large girl in the room, except Tilly Mansfield.

"It is too bad! It isn't half fair!" Thus, in the short recess given to the younger girls, Emma loudly complained of the injustice done her.

"I don't believe Miss Van Ness keeps the book right!" she exclaimed. "I don't believe I have been imperfect as many times as that."

"I am afraid there is no mistake about it," said Florry, sorrowfully. "Have you kept an account this term, Emma?"

"No. I can never remember to set the things down at the time."

"I didn't believe you would, and so I kept your credit along with my own," said Florry. "And, Emma, I am afraid Miss Van Ness is right. Her account is just like mine. You know I told you two or three weeks ago—"

"Oh, yes, you told me," interrupted Emma, scornfully and angrily. "You are a great hand to preach, to be sure. If I have missed, and got some marks in school, I haven't done some other things. Have you found the red plant yet?"

Florry did not say another word. She turned and went away into the house, without telling Emma, as she had meant to do, of her intention not to go up without her.

"Oh, what shall I do? What shall I do?" she said to herself. "Oh, my heart will break! I am sure it will. If I could only die, or go clear away where nobody knows me. I wish father would let me go away to Colorado to Uncle John."

To do Emma justice, she had no intention of wounding her friend so deeply.

She was angry at herself for having failed, and at Florry for having succeeded, and her anger fell upon the first object that happened to present itself.

"What did you mean by what you said about the red plant?" asked Tilly Mansfield, who had heard Emma's words. "I heard your mother tell Emmeline that she had had a beautiful one, but that somebody stole it. You don't mean that Florry Lester took it, do you? Why, Emma Hausen!"

"Yes, she did; and I think it is a shame that such a girl should be put above me!" exclaimed Emma. "I am not a thief, whatever I am. I just wish Miss Van Ness and the rest knew it, that's all. I guess Miss Flora Lester would not hold her head so very high among the young ladies after that."

"I guess she wouldn't," said Tilly, who dearly loved a piece of gossip. "Why don't you tell them? I would. It would just pay Florry off finely. I dare say she would be turned out of the school."

"But I don't want to pay her off, that I know of," said Emma, struck by Tilly's words, and beginning to think when it was too late, as usual. "It was not her fault, and I am sorry I hurt her feelings. She was always telling me I would fail, if I didn't take more care; and she was right. If I had minded her, I should have done well enough. I wish I had."

"But did she really steal your mother's red plant?"

"Yes: she took it out of the stand and carried it home, and then somebody stole it from her. But she was very sorry; and she came and told mother all about it; and gave her that beautiful double fuchsia, to make amends. And don't you say a word, Tilly, for all the world; because mother told me not to tell; and, besides, it was real mean in me to twit Florry with it. You won't tell, will you?"

"Of course not; but, Emma, I don't think you need care so very much for Florry. It was not half fair for her to go above you so."

"Oh, she couldn't help it! And she did her best to have me second, too."

"She knew all the time that you wouldn't, though. I knew she did, because she told me so. She said you had been very good the last two weeks; but it didn't depend on that; and she knew she should pass anyhow: so she didn't care."

Tilly did not exactly mean to lie; but she was an inveterate gossip, and, like many other gossips, she never could repeat anything exactly as she heard it.

"I don't believe she said so. It doesn't sound one bit like her," said Emma.

"Indeed, she did. She said so up in my room this very morning."

"I guess you stretched it just a little," said Emma. "But there is mother calling me."

"I think we must go now, my dear," said Mrs. Hausen. "You know we have several things to do yet. Miss Van Ness will excuse you."

Emma did not seek Florry out to "make up," as she had intended. She said to herself that she had no time; but that was not the real reason. Tilly's words, though she did not half believe them, had not been without their effect on her mind.