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

she was in the Latin class and proved herself an excellent scholar.

The evening hour was sometimes rather trying. Some of the girls asked foolish questions just to perplex her. Occasionally she suggested they should ask Miss Davis. The younger ones were quite tractable, though now and then a spirit of fun broke out, set a-foot generally by the larger girls.


CHAPTER III

FOOD FOR CONSIDERATION

Lilian Boyd did not want to cross the line of division that was acutely felt and yet so nicely projected that a faint move on her part would bring about a rebuff. She had the youthful longing for girlish friendships, for little confidences about books they liked, about aims and the future. Some of the pupils were so attractive; and it was because she was the caretaker's daughter; she saw it when they came in to her mother with any errand, when they passed her in the halls with a supercilious nod.

But then, why need she care? They would go their way presently and she might remain. She knew she had won Mrs. Barrington's favor. That lady made it a point of her joining the Sunday evening singing and she found that she had a good, flexible voice.

One lovely October afternoon she thought she would walk down to the river whose banks were now a blaze of color. Some one called and she turned. It was Alice Nevins who _was_ sometimes tiresome. The girls were going down in town and one of them had really asked her if she would not like to join them. A gratified light shone in her eyes for a moment. There was something in the other's face that gave her a quick warning. There was some plot underneath.

"Thank you very much but I cannot go this afternoon. I hope you will all have a nice time."

Then she went to her room. Her mother was folding up some sewing. "There is so little to do," and she smiled vaguely.

"Come out and walk with me."

"No, I don't feel equal to it, I will put a shawl about me and sit on the porch."

"Shall I come and read to you?"

"No, dear, it is an effort to listen. I'll just sit and think."

"Mother, are you satisfied here?"

"Oh, my child, I could not have dreamed of anything so comfortable, and for your sake--you are happy?" with a touch of wistfulness.

"Oh, it is so delightful, and then to think that I shall fit myself for a nice position presently. Then mother dear we will have a few rooms and a real home again."

"Oh, you are so good," in a tremulous tone.

Lilian kissed her. She wondered why her mother's eyes rested on her at times with that unfathomable look and the lips would move, then suddenly compress.

So she walked down past the summer house where the Virginia creeper was flaunting long scarlet branches in the wind.

"Oh, Miss Boyd!"

She turned. Alice Nevins ran out. Her face was red and swollen with weeping.

"Oh, what is the matter?"

"Let me come with you? Oh, I'm so homesick, and I just hate some of the girls. They laugh when I blunder. I don't know things. I just hate school! Papa _would_ send me here. Mamma begged to take me abroad. I'm sure I could have learned a great many things. People say travel is an education. I hate to study books. Do you really love it?"

"Yes, very much, and for all it brings to you. Were you never at school before?"

"Only a little. Then I had a governess. You see, I was growing fast and mamma thought I oughtn't study. She wasn't very well and papa wanted to take her somewhere in Italy, and he sent me here, and some of the girls _do_ make fun of me. Can't you _feel_ it when they are laughing at you?"

Lilian flushed. "I try to think of something else. They are not really worth minding."

"I know I'm not pretty. Oh, I wish I were! And you have such a lovely complexion. How is it made up?"

"Made up? What do you mean?"

"One of the girls said it was, and that sometimes you painted."

Lilian was angry then.

"My paint and powder are soap and water," she returned, indignantly. "It is a shame for a young girl to do such things."

"But you _are_ pretty. Must your mother be the caretaker here? What does she have to do?"

"She looks after the sewing and the mending. Yes, because we are poor, we both have to earn our living. Some day I mean to teach and take care of her."

"Where is your father?"

"Oh, he died when I was a baby."

"Well--I'm awful sorry. Do you like that Phillipa Rosewald?"

"I don't know much about her."

"She makes fun of so many things, and she tells you words that sound wrong when you pronounce them. I said something yesterday and the girls giggled and Miss Davis thought I did it purposely and I was marked down."

"It was a very mean thing," Lilian's cheek glowed with indignation.

"Then Miss Rosewald tells such funny stories. Four or five of the girls just hang together and they think they are everything. But I guess father is as rich as any of their fathers. Only I wish I was real handsome."

"Oh, my dear, I would think of my studies instead. Now let us talk them over. What is it that bothers you most?"

"Oh, everything."

"But you _must_ study. Now, won't you try this evening. I'll help you all I can."

"Oh, I wish I was with mamma. I shall just tell her that I hate school. What's the use of so much education anyhow? Girls get married."

Lilian felt that Mrs. Nevins was a very poor mother not to have taught her daughter a little common sense. Then she asked how old Alice was.

"I was fifteen last May."

"And I will be sixteen in June. I wasn't quite fourteen when I was promoted to the High School, where I spent two years."

"Oh, but I'm not going to teach or anything. Mamma said she would be sure to send for me next vacation, but that is almost nine dreary months away," with a profound sigh.

"And you ought to learn a good deal in that time, so that you will not be classed with the ignorant and conceited girls who think their money will cover everything. There are so many young people going abroad nowadays, college girls who have all the nice points of travel by heart?"

"Oh, dear, I just can't study!" desperately.

"Oh, try. Now this evening I will help you. You see," smiling, "very little knowledge comes natural. It is true some acquire easier than others, but it is the continued effort after all."

"Oh, dear, I wish you had been my sister. Papa is always bemoaning that there are not more of us, but mamma says if there were I would have to go without many things. I've some lovely jewelry but papa would put it in the safe deposit, and he went and bought this cheap little watch for school. My nice one cost one hundred dollars. It's a real beauty, and mamma has lots of diamonds. I have two, they were birthday rings. Don't they have parties here when you dress up? I brought my pretty white silk, and I have a pink one with lots of lace, and my fur coat will be sent to me, it is being altered a little. It's real seal, and mother has such a lovely Russian sable. Oh, I do like pretty clothes, but Mrs. Barrington made out a list that seemed very plain for a high-up finishing school--don't you think so?"

"I have not seen it. Most girls come to study and fit themselves for the station they are to occupy. Unless you are going in society I think there is little need of very fine clothes. Now let us talk a little about your studies. Miss Davis feels quite concerned about you."

Miss Nevins pouted a little. Lilian felt her nice walk was spoiled so she turned her attention to the ignorant girl who "just hated study." What a foolish mother she must have, while it seemed that her father was far more sensible.

Mrs. Barrington stood on the porch as they returned. She detained Lilian with a wave of the hand. When Miss Nevins was out of hearing she said in an approving tone--

"I am glad to see you take an interest in that poor child. Miss Davis thinks her lamentably ignorant. I am really sorry I accepted her, but her father wrote such urgent, sensible letters. Her mother must be a very foolish body and the girl is extremely backward. It is asking a good deal of you to take a little pains with her, but I see that you have an attractive way with you. You will make an excellent teacher, and I hope to keep you a long while."

"Oh, thank you, I will try to do my best," Lilian returned, delighted with the praise.

Miss Arran always came in the study room, generally bringing a bit of embroidery for it was not expected that Miss Boyd should attend to the upper division with some girls older than herself. The other class were quite at the lower end of the room, ranged around the table. Miss Boyd seated herself next to Miss Nevins and patiently explained, but it was very hard to keep the girl's attention to the subject in hand. She thought she had never seen any one so utterly indifferent and with so little ambition. There had been stolid, slow-witted girls among the operatives in Laconia in the grammar school, but they really desired to learn.

Miss Davis paused the next day to say--

"Miss Boyd your good training does begin to take effect. Miss Nevins had such excellent recitations today that I was pleased beyond measure. You are way up in Mrs. Barrington's good graces, I can tell you."

Lilian flushed at the commendation.

For the next hour the girls could have a social time in each others' rooms or the library. There was a crowd of eager talkers with Miss Rosewald.

"Yes," she was saying. "I ran over the housekeeper just as she was coming out of Rinsey's. Zay will be here by the 20th, and she's coming right to school, for the Major and Mrs. Crawford are going to the Mediterranean. The German doctors and the baths did wonders for her and she can walk without crutches. A friend is to take them on his yacht and they'll be home at Christmas, and there will be Vincent's graduation. Dear me! I hope I can go up to West Point. They say the balls are splendid. The Crawford house is to be all done over, and no doubt there will be a big housewarming there."

"Oh, it will be just delightful to have Zay back again. I suppose that's the reason Miss White was put in with Buttons and that room fixed up so nice. Mrs. Barrington has had word, of course. We just need her to round out, I was going to say, the atmosphere. It's too studious. Those Kirkland girls are going to college, dearly loved cousins, quite sufficient for themselves, and there's that granery, yallery, Grosvenor Gallery, one who writes poetry and is too lackadaisical for anything. What we want is