The Girls at Mount Morris, Amanda Minnie Douglas [motivational novels for students .TXT] 📗

rather shaky, but having the use of all her limbs. There was the dress hanging on her chair. She wondered what would be done. Should she go on?

There was another pocket in the side of her skirt and she felt for that. There was the remainder of her trip ticket and some money. She had only put a small amount in her satchel and that was safe as well. Rescuers had been honest. Was it a token that she should go on?

The official was in that afternoon and made her a general allowance, she thought, for her losses. There would be a through train at nine the next morning if she was able to go.

"Could I see the--the other lady. How was the baby hurt?"

"Oh, it was all crushed. The mother was killed. One of the passengers recognized her and the lady, and though you were stunned for a long while you came partly to, and called for your baby. So we brought it, and although you were not quite rational you were so happy with it and improved rapidly. You've been fortunate, ma'am."

"Yes," with a queer, frightened sound.

"She's a beautiful woman and belongs to the quality, but her hip is broken and her back twisted, and there's something hurt in her head. She can't live--we thought her dead in the night. It's a blessing the poor baby has gone."

She lay like marble. A beautiful woman, truly. The eyelids with their long lashes looked as if they were carven. There was only an infrequent sign of respiration.

"We hope we are on the track of some one belonging to her. The doctors want her moved to the hospital."

The next morning Emma Boyd journeyed out to her brother's. A coarse, common, loud voiced farmer, rough and unkempt and five unruly children. She was appalled, and a dreary stretch of prairie land with hardly a neighbor in sight. Why she had been crazy to come! and she found farm work quite too hard for her. She had better be housemaid at Laconia, or go in the mills again. And when her brother found she had a little money he was eager to get hold of it. Yes, she had better return to her native town, especially as her brother was meaning to marry again.

So she came back to Laconia which was a manufacturing town with iron mines at its elbow. There were varying fortunes as there often is with the poor. Mill work when she had to leave the child alone, then a boarding house which really prospered, but was sold with some other property for a big factory. Then housekeeping for a nervous invalid wife, and here she had met Mrs. Searing who had proved a true friend. After that sewing, making skirts for a dressmaker and working at childrens' clothes. When it was dull times they drew on the little fund. The girl was ambitious and had mapped out her own life, different from what her mother had planned. They loved each other but it was as if two foreign natures were trying to assimilate and there was no conformable ground for perfect harmony. Yes, she would take this last step for the girl's sake; she owed it to her.


CHAPTER II

A NEW OUTLOOK

Lilian Boyd glanced around the station at Mount Morris with a kind of joyous surprise and wonder. The beautiful town with its straight streets, some of them with a narrow park in the centre, houses that were palatial to her inexperienced eyes, with terraced lawns, wide porches, graceful shrubbery and a profusion of flowers. True, the station was quite at one side and a little farther down the road crossed the river that went meandering along, too winding and shallow for business purposes. Opposite there was a succession of wooded hills with here and there a stately residence.

"How beautiful, mother!" Lilian cried, moved in every pulse of her being, her eyes lustrous with tears, her lips quivering.

The beauty did not so move the mother. She was embarrassed and shrank when the coachman with an authoritative air approached them.

"Mrs. Boyd?" tentatively. There had been but few passengers and they had gone their way.

She glanced timidly at Lilian who answered for her.

"Give me your checks, please, and I will order the trunks sent up."

"There is only one," in a deprecating tone.

Lilian was glad she had insisted on a nice new trunk.

"This way please," and he took the girl's satchel. Mrs. Boyd followed rather than led, but her daughter stood aside so that she should be assisted in first.

"What a beautiful town!" she exclaimed involuntarily. She had a feeling that they were recovering from a reverse of fortune and this was their rightful place. Then she smiled at the absurdity.

Mount Morris Seminary was rather at the lower part of the town, and a long level stretched between that and the river, broken by a few clumps of shrubbery. The house was a handsome old style building, colonial in its aspect with its broad piazza and fluted columns going up to the second story.

There was an imposing entrance, but the porte cochere was at the side where the wide screen door showed a sort of reception hall, furnished with willow and splint belongings, a table with magazines and papers and two great jars of ferns.

A tidy maid received them. "Would they please be seated, Mrs. Barrington would be down in a moment."

Lilian drew a long breath of rapture. To live in a place like this! To wander in the beautiful garden, to work and study in such inspiring environments. Yes, she had come to work as well. She had been too young to discriminate, but in an instant she seemed to realize how bitter the struggle with poverty and discouragement had been, the hurry with hardly an hour's real enjoyment. No wonder it had made her mother worn and hesitating, fearful, and here everything was so leisurely aspected.

She heard the soft trail of a gown over the stairs and rose in eager expectancy.

Mrs. Barrington was a handsome woman at sixty, tall and straight, with a gracious presence. Her hair was snowy white as the girl had hoped and lay in loose waves about her forehead. Her dark eyes were not easily evaded, but her manner of smiling serenity was in itself a welcome.

"I am afraid it has been a long and tiresome journey in this warm weather, but a few days' rest will restore you I hope. You look very delicate, Mrs. Boyd."

She gave the hand a friendly pressure.

"Mother had so much to do before we started," explained Lilian, "and the change--"

"And the parting with old friends," with her sympathetic smile. "I hope you will soon feel at home and like us all. Mrs. Searing gave you both such an excellent recommendation, and I confess I take a warm interest in girls who are eager for advancement. Now allow me to show you to your room and shall I send you up some tea? That is a rather pleasant English fashion, I am glad you came so promptly for my housekeeper has gone on her vacation and we shall have the better chance to get acquainted."

"Oh, thank you," said Lilian warmly.

They followed her up the stairs where a cross hall led to a wing. The room was large with two single beds, the windows in white drapery, a capacious bureau, a dressing table, a washing stand in a recess, a writing desk and some book shelves. It looked so cozy and inviting.

"I will send up the tea, and I think your mother had better take a rest. If you like to come down you will find me in the hall."

"Thank you," she replied. "I shall be glad to come."

She took her mother's bonnet and wrap and placed her in the rocking chair.

"Oh, isn't this a splendid closet? It's like another room. We are going to be so happy here; I feel it in every pulse. Heaven bless Mrs. Searing for finding us this shelter. Now drink this cup of tea. Thank you," to the maid.

It was reviving.

Lilian brushed out her dress and smoothed her hair. Her coat had left some wrinkles in her shirtwaist, but she stretched and patted them out. Then when she had seen her mother comfortable on the bed, she came down. Even the little freshening made her look bright and rosy and her eyes were vivid with the light of pleasure.

Mrs. Barrington had a bit of fancy work in her hands which were white and shapely. She studied the young girl. It seemed to call up something from the long past years that eluded and yet piqued her. How different she was from the mother.

"Have you always lived in that western town, Laconia, I believe it is, and was it your mother's birthplace?"

"Yes, I am quite sure. I was away once as a baby. Mother went to her brother's after father died but did not like it, and Laconia is an ugly manufacturing town of smoke and grime, but it is said to have a fine High School. Of course there are some rich manufacturers."

"How long were you in it?"

"Two years, and I was fairly broken hearted at the thought of not completing the course, but mother wasn't strong as she had been, and"--yes, she would be bravely honest--"we were poor, mother's little money was almost spent. Boys supported themselves while they are studying, why shouldn't girls?"

Oh, where had she seen just that proud uplifting look! It puzzled the lady.

"I am always pleased to help an ambitious girl along, and you have a dignity which will be a great aid in teaching. Mrs. Searing said that was your desire."

"I love to study. I think I shall love to teach, and sometime I hope to go to college."

"I think you will work your way there. What branches were you in?"

Lilian was very frank. She showed that she was a thorough student. History was one of her delights. Latin was the only language admitted until the third year, and in mathematics she seemed well grounded.

"I want some one to take charge of a few of the younger classes and be of service in the study hour from eight to nine. I think you will fit in admirably, but do you think your mother is quite strong enough?"--and she paused.

"Oh, she is used to sewing of all kinds. She is very tired now and I think she has been worried all the time lest something should go wrong with this nice offer. You see sewing is not very profitable ordinarily unless you can do high up dressmaking or are forewoman in some factory, and I couldn't sew for a living. It is one thing over and over. You are never learning anything new, broadening out, enjoying the wisdom of the master minds, the beautiful poetry, the grand philosophies. Oh, am I a very romantic or conceited girl?" and she paused with a bright flush.

"You are meant for a scholar."

Just that instant the trunk came and Lilian excused herself and went up with it. Her mother was up and looked rested.

"And please put on that black and white lawn, even if it is a little crumpled, and my white batiste always shakes out. It is nice if it isn't very fine."

The bell sounded and they went down. The table was